Going Feet First Ch. 06

Haru nodded. "It will be interesting to fight with Dark Elves for once."

With a snap of her fingers, the Sun-Kissed were the first to step free of the magic. Despite their verbal grumblings, they backed off from the Witch and stayed their weapons as they split to their two teams. Next was Devon, Aius and the two youngest of the Royal family, all of whom moved to the First Commandant's side with more than a few questions to ask. Especially in regards to the Princess.

"What twisted world did you get wrapped in?" Farok grumbled as he was set loose from Haru's curse, smoothly shaking the tension out of his limbs.

"One with too many magic-users," Petra replied. "I swear Galen and I will have to have a chat about who he gets us involved with."

Hearing this had Farok's eyes narrowing on the Assassin, and then on the human holding her leash. He had explained to her what happened to bring him here, he knew of Galen's plight with his Elf, but there was still the discussion to be had of what was going to happen after this nightmare had ceased. And Farok was unsure if he wanted to hear what his old friend had in mind.

"You're coming with me, right, Petra?" Galen asked, approaching the two Nekos. A smile appeared on his face when she didn't even hesitate to nod her head.

"Oh yes, I am not missing out," she said, flashing her claws in emphasis.

"And where she goes, I go," Farok declared. "This is not negotiable."

"Every blade counts," Galen responded.

For a second time, Flak was let loose from the magic holding him. Just trying to take in everything going on around him he slowly returned his pistol to his pocket and looked around the room. Dreek's squad was getting ready to move, Galen was reuniting with his furry friends, and some of the "Sun-Kissed" happily embracing Zax'va's as they brought her to the table in the middle of the room to get some food into her tortured body. All while the young Prince and those loyal to him remained frozen by whatever trick that Witch performed.

"And who are you?"

Flak turned, finding Haru standing right up in his face.

"Back the fuck off," the Sergeant growled, palming his pistol.

She frowned and took a step back. "You are one of Galen's people, aren't you? From another world?"

"Yes, and I'm already getting sick of yours."

"Oh well, you will have to get used to it because you probably can't go back. Now are you going to help your comrade, or are we going to leave you in this castle with neither friend nor ally to help you escape again?"

He gritted his teeth, the devil woman staring at him expectantly before he sighed. "I'll help. But somebody better catch me up on what the fuck is going on."

After checking over her shoulder to make sure Galen wasn't paying her any attention, Haru lit her hand up in a dull white glow and slapped it against the wound in Flak's shoulder. The sergeant swore a slew of curses and grabbed her wrist, but then something poured into him. Something soothing.

That hole in his body stopped hurting just as he could have sworn he felt his skin... shifting. A sudden stabbing pain pierced his body once more and he winced in spite of it, but then she moved her hand away. Still gritting his teeth he pulled back his shirt to see what she did.

The bullet wound was gone.

"Something I borrowed from Galen, for now," she giggled. "Welcome to Raska."

"Are we ready?" Dreek interrupted.

Haru turned and found the new team gathering by the door to the hall sorting out their equipment to be ready for travel. One by one they gave the affirmative. Galen, carrying the most of any, gave his equipment a quick pat down top to bottom before he could finally show thumbs up.

"Alright, squad, next phase begins," the Third Commandant declared.

"What's your plan, Commandant?" Haru questioned.

"Get to the west wall of the castle grounds and rope down to the ground. Wagons are waiting on the other side. Why don't you clear the way for us? Your demon is here somewhere, isn't it?"

"He is. He has been silencing the alarm bells around the castle. And killing anyone who's tried to respond to the ones that did ring. Pretty much the reason we've been left alone after SOMEONE-" She looked to Galen, who perked up like a deer in the headlights glancing between her and Dreek. "-stopped cracking thunder INSIDE a STONE building. Now, I'm sure if we ask nicely, he can get our group over up over the wall without having to worry about somebody falling."

............

Cool night air breezed over Galen's face as he drove his prison wagon, loaded with Farok and five of the Sun-Kissed, through Redding's streets. Riding shotgun at his side was Petra, the Neko helping him to easily navigate the empty streets even on the moonless night.

Having raided the extra stash of weapons hidden in the cart, Flak stood on the roof of the prisoner compartment with the Private's Ithaca-37 in hand. Hanging off his side was the satchel of shells that went with the shotgun and even a proper holster for his sidearm that the Sun-Kissed had rigged up in the event of an emergency.

Haru was just behind Galen, sitting cross-legged on the wagon's roof with a raven-shaped Xerivan on her shoulder. Holding the left and right flanks of the transport were Dreek and Ssz'Vasbryn on a pair of horses acquired from the city cavalry. Both the Drow had their hoods pulled up and kept their heads low as they passed the street lamps. Surprisingly enough, none of the archers on the rooftops seemed to care and there were nearly no men on the ground. It kept the ride through the city quiet.

"I don't understand you," Galen announced, glancing back at the witch behind him.

"I don't understand why the sky's blue, but go on."

The Private frowned, his mouth quirking off to the side. "Bein' serious, you came into the tunnel alongside those other men and cut down two dozen Drow without even hesitatin'. You almost killed me and could have several times over. And yet, now you just flop over and join us on a dime?"

Haru shrugged. "I don't tend to hold grudges. Everything is just another job and once it's done, I'm on a clean slate."

"Even if someone comes close to killin' you, even killin' someone who fought for you, it's all just another job?"

"Sure. Why should I think otherwise?" She asked, looking to the Private with a questioning look.

His brow furrowing, he muttered, "Don't figure any others you hurt would agree it's a 'clean slate.'"

She chuckled. "They know the Game when they join it. You could live, you could die, you could be stuck with one eye, one arm, and no nuts for the rest of your life. That's why I don't care about people involved in my business. Soldiers, informants, targets. They know the risks of the Game."

"You're a real cold-hearted bitch, ain't ya?" Flak asked.

"Oh, yes. Granted there are lines that are not to be crossed. Like not kidnapping someone if they're gonna be killed after the ransom is met. No business involving children or ending blood-lines. No bringing somebody into the Game who doesn't belong... I hold discretion over my contracts, and I never get involved in slaving."

"The fuck do you care?" the Sergeant questioned again. "You're getting paid, so why does a bad-bitch merc give a fuck about her objective?"

"Reasons," she answered. "We're coming up on Fretheim's manor."

"I was about to say that," Petra chimed in, her voice low. "Five blocks down, it's the only building with its lights still lit."

With his dark vision active, Galen could barely see more than three blocks ahead. He could only take the Assassin's word for it as he asked aloud, "Everyone ready?"

Flak racked his shotgun. "Ready as I can be."

Petra nodded, and Haru looked to the demon bird perched on her shoulder before it dissolved into a dark wisp and flew off into the night sky.

"We're ready," the witch responded.

"Ready in here," Keetle called out from inside the cart.

The Private looked to Dreek and gave her a nod. With this confirmation, the Commandant gave a hand signal. Almost on que, a harsh breeze blew through the street to extinguish every lamp and cast the group into darkness. Both the back doors to the cart swung open, two Drow piling out and dashing to either side of the street. Keetle leaned out of the cart and swiped her arm upward, her magic grasping and throwing one of her sisters to the roof of the building while Xerivan swooped in to carry the other up without a sound. One by one, the archers Galen sensed on the rooftops met swift and silent ends as the Drow swept through. Moments later, Dreek snapped her fingers twice, and the rest of the Elves jumped out of the wagon.

"That's the cue. We go in on foot from here," Galen announced, pulling the reins to stop the horses.

Everyone dismounted and split into two groups, running down the two opposite sides of the street. Dreek led her Sun-Kissed ahead on one side, while Galen headed the non-Elven group up the other. Being the only one lacking any sort of night-vision, Flak had to trail behind the others going only by the sounds of their footsteps and the glow of lights ahead to guide him.

The first floor of the manor was lit up as usual, but so were the streets encircling the estate. And the lit streets were filled with a level of security higher than what any report suggested before.

Just outside the privacy wall of Fretheim's home was what could be guessed as the entirety of the security force for the whole city district. Knights, guardsmen, cavalry, at least thirty men in all. Together they encompassed the grounds with weapons drawn and ready.

Galen could sense Dreek pause, just as he did himself when they all came into range of his vision. The Commandant signalled for everyone to halt, and the two groups did.

"They were never this numerous," Petra muttered.

"Were they tipped off?" Flak queried.

"Couldn't have been. Only the Drow knew about our plans tonight," Galen responded.

He looked to Dreek, who knelt down and silently observed the area ahead with a contemplative look. After only a few seconds, she looked to Galen, then to Haru. The Witch and Commandant stared at one another for only a moment before the former grinned.

"Just ask nicely," she whispered.

...

The two men standing watch over the gate of Fretheim's estate stared with glazed eyes to the streets ahead. A breeze had once again whipped through the street to extinguish the lamps and chill them both through their armor. It was the third time this eve this had happened, and the lack of moon left the city in the dark.

"I'm getting tired of this crap," one grumbled.

"Better than going to the front below ground," the other retorted.

"Point... but at least you're not standing in one spot all night in the cold for no damn reason. At least the lamps outside the wall are still going otherwise-"

Something blew by, and together every lamp around Fretheim's home went out. Through the darkness the men could hear each other shift in their steel armor. In either direction they could hear the other men on watch openly wonder about this new occurrence before something else spoke. It came to each guard at once as a mere whisper in their ear. Louder than a thought, though not by much.

"Drop your sword and sit. Or die."

The men raised their weapons and took a battle stance, squinting as they stared out into the black.

"Who's there?!" one challenged.

"I shan't ask twice. Weapon aside, ass to grass."

The two men who guarded the gate glanced in the direction of the other. Both gave a steadfast grunt and prepared for a fight. And from out of the darkness came a blade that stabbed clean through the gaps in their armor. One after another, the men who protected the front of Fretheim's home clattered to the ground, the Drow who had slain them unseen in the darkness as they continued around the edge of the grounds.

...

From the top floor of the mansion, Cael Fretheim stared out his bedroom window and out into the abyss that had become the perimeter of his home. Deep in his chest he could feel his heart sink as he heard the tell-tale sounds of armored bodies hitting the ground. His head hanging low, he let out a sigh.

"They're here, aren't they?" Pretayus asked at his back.

Frowning, Fretheim nodded. "Everything that is to come with us is loaded and packed. It is time to leave. If they manage to get past what awaits downstairs, I want to have as much distance between us and here that we can manage. They won't find us once we enter the mountains."

"Then go," the Slavemaster ordered. "I'll buy you what time I can."

Fretheim spun on his heels immediately face his business partner. "What? What of our deal?!"

Pretayus stepped forward to the window, spotting the front gate of the grounds swinging open to permit who-knows-what onto the estate. "Val knows my tricks of my trade. She can do near anything I can and I already handed off most my talismans to her. If the worst comes, I will use my last charm to send my personal pendant to her."

A pause hung in the air, Fretheim pursing his lips as he stared at the placid look of the Slaver. "I don't ask you for your life. The men below have their duties and know what they signed up for. They're expendable. You. Are. Not."

The Slaver's quaking hand with only two fingers came up to slick back his long, black hair. Only he frowned when his hair again flopped down on to the right side of his face, as his right ear was not there to hold it.

"That Galen took all my friends from me along with two fingers, an ear, and my thumb... All I have is my Val and... what? Gold? Armor?" Pretayus looked down to his left, to his hand that clutched Galen's uniform jacket. "A prize off that damned... whatever he is?"

The Slavemaster dropped the garment to the floor and looked up to face his reflection in the glass. "I'm getting older. I'm getting tired. Sixteen years growing up as I did, twenty-two years living this life of a nomad. Killing, capturing, breaking, selling... I think..."

He sighed and rested his forehead against the glass. "I think it's time I planted my feet in the dirt for the final time to face my demons and accept my fate."

Silence hung in the air, interrupted only by the sound of another guard outside dropping dead. With a stiff lower lip and a deep frown, Cael let out his lungs and then he presented his hand. "I will never forget you, my new friend."

Pretayus turned, his gaze meeting Fretheim's as the two shook. "Take care of Val for me."

The Slavemaster turned back to the window while the lord went to the door of the bedroom, making a quiet exit as the other continued to stare out into the night.

...

He couldn't feel him, but he could see him. The silhouette standing on the third floor in the window. It was everything Galen had to not just up and shoot Pretayus right there. But he couldn't predict whether or not the bullet would pierce his mithril armor. So instead Galen sat in the shadows just outside the open gate of Fretheim's estate. On his left, the Drow had gathered against the wall. To his right, Flak stood ready with his shotgun with Petra and Farok right behind him.

From a cloud of black smoke Haru appeared at his side, wiping her blade off on her cloak as she muttered, "We gave them the chance to live... but they always got to be heroes."

"Hey, Greenhorn," Flak called, drawing Galen's attention away from the Witch. "You learn to breech a building before? Room clearing?"

Blinking, Galen shook his head. "No..."

The Marine rolled his eyes. "Fucking great... Well, you're lucky we're the only ones packing guns..."

He looked to the mansion, taking in what details he could before looking back at the Private. "You get it easy because a big house usually means spacious rooms. Rules are simple, when a door is boot-fucked open, you haul ass and get in there and don't fucking stop until you own the goddamn room. Understood?"

Galen nodded. "Yes, Sergeant."

"Good. I'll be on point for the approach. Everyone, single file behind me."

"Are you taking over, now?" Dreek asked incredulously as Flak rounded the corner of Fretheim's wall.

Glass shattered as a volley of arrows launched forward from the second floor. Flak leapt backwards, though not quick enough to dodge the volume of projectiles. A white light flashed in his eyes, his arm reeling back to try and stop the arrows from turning his head into a pin-cushion.

He waited for the pain, for some discomfort, any sign that he was still alive. Bit by bit his vision returned, and looking around, he found himself standing amongst the Drow. Dreek held a firm grip on the back of his collar to ensure he stayed upright. Looking back to where he had been standing, he saw Haru holding one hand forward with a shield of light appearing before her while Galen had taken cover behind the wall.

"You are lucky I'm that quick," she said, dispelling her ward and taking cover behind the wall as another volley of arrows launched in her direction.

"We're on their turf, of course they'd have a defense ready," Flak grumbled. Fucking sloppy, Marine. Never underestimate a foe.

"You expected less?" Dreek questioned, releasing his shirt.

"Something I shouldn't have done... Alright, new plan. Haru, can you do that shield trick again?"

She nodded, "I can, but it is taxing. Pretayus has a pendant that blocks magic. Spells get weak at a distance and useless up-close."

A frown arched down on the Sergeant's brow. "Ten seconds is all we need, just enough to cross the yard."

He turned to Dreek and the other Drow stacked up on the wall. "What other magic tricks you girls got? Spill 'em if you have 'em because every second we waste is another they have to prepare themselves..."

...

Rifle at the ready, Galen looked across the open gap of the gate from Flak, who had started counting down with his fingers. Three fingers. Drow stepped forward, their hands lighting up into balls of fire. Two fingers, Keetle hunched low beside Flak's feet. One finger, Haru's hands burst with a bright white light.

The two Drow with burning hands cast two streams of fire magic into the yard, Keetle's magic creating an invisible barrier that spread them out to block the yard from the view of the archers above. Whatever arrows didn't get seared by the flames were stopped by Haru's shield as it covered the group now running for the front door of the manor.

Without slowing, Flak aimed his shotgun at the handle of the doors and blew out the shined brass to send the doors swinging inward. One guard who had been waiting on the other side collapsed with the combination of wood splinters and buckshot piercing his midsection. Another four were waiting in the hall behind him, their faces in shock of what they had just witnessed.

There was not a moment's hesitation when Flak racked his weapon and took a new aim. He pulled the pump and fired until each of the men fell to the floor and the group behind him charged inside and out of the line of fire of the archers above.

"Stack up!" Flak then ordered, fishing fresh shotgun shells from his satchel to load his weapon. He stopped just short of a set of double doors on the left side of the entry hall and looked back to the Paratrooper behind him. "Galen plus three, stack right! Three on me! Haru, cover stairs! Farok, guard the door!"

Despite the handful of annoyed glares that went the Sergeant's way, Dreek, Keetle, and one more of the Sun-Kissed lined up behind Galen beside the door on the opposite side of the hallway from the Marine. Petra, Ssz'Vasbryn, and the other Sun-Kissed sister lined up behind Flak. When both the soldiers had their guns loaded and ready, the Sergeant let out his lungs and looked right over at Galen.