Bravo Ch. 2

     He said there ain’t no rest for the wicked,

    Money don’t grow on trees.

    We got bills to pay, we got mouths to feed.

    There ain’t nothing in this world for free.

    Oh no we can’t slow down, we can’t hold back,

    Though you know we wish we could.

    Oh no there ain’t no rest for the wicked,

    Until we close our eyes for good.

    “Hey, turn that radio off! That ain’t fightin’ music!”

    “Sorry, Sir!”

    “Dumb bastard,” Ralph muttered under his breath, almost too low for Drakko to hear over the chinook’s rotors.

    “At least he listens,” Suzie remarked to him. Ralph only snorted back.

    Drakko leaned back in his seat of an old chinook heli, far in northern, North Dakota. He was strapped in tight, his Barrett .50 caliber sniper rifle a comforting weight in his lap. With him was his squad. A squad that didn’t exist, in a branch of the military nobody knew of.

    The red dragon smiled nevertheless at his squamates’ bickering. A common thing at all times, truth be told, and sad would be the day he couldn’t listen to it. He had already heard his fair share for the trip, and so allowed the helicopter’s rotors to drown them out.

    Their mission? To assault an old Hierarchy base hidden within an old abandoned coal mine. Lots of these kinds of outposts riddled the middle east of the U.S. This will be Drakko’s first, and while he wasn't nervous, there was a sense of apprehension. Not of the knowledge of the coming fight, for Drakko was no stranger to combat. No, this would be his first fight with this squad. Even after multiple months of training together, they didn’t have that connection Drakko once had with his squad.

    Besides, this squad was much more varied than his last squad. It even had humans in it.

    Sitting across from his was probably the largest anthro dragon Drakko had ever seen. A hulking brute with red scaled shoulders twice as wide as Drakko, a pair of chipped ivory horns, and was near eleven feet tall. So tall in fact that he had to bend over to sit properly. His massive paws made the M429 he was packing seem small, and he held the gun away from him like it burned his scales to touch it. Ralph would rather have his Haywire grenade launcher, but was forced to forsake it for the light machine gun. The entirety of the coal mine was suspected as volatile, and that doesn’t bode well to bring explosives. Or dragons for that matter.

    Next to him was the dragoness that had first recruited Drakko. A teal scaled, bone white maned, and beautiful techie who would rather give you a sarcastic answer instead of the real one. Make no mistake though, Suzie knew what she was doing, and then some. Not to mention that she was the leader of their six man fireteam.

    “Those two really like each other!” Wheezy joked, leaning over to whisper into Drakko’s ear fin. Drakko only chuckled.

    “I wouldn’t be surprised if they started kissing!” he replied, making Wheezy laugh.

    Wheezy, Drakko couldn’t tell if he was a fool, or a brilliant one. Man always seems to survive the worst situation, and then laughs about it afterward. His sixth sense was second to none, not even Drakko’s. The surprisingly human tutor of all things unorthodox liked picking fun at people, and a constantly smiling and boyish image, complete with black hair and scrawny build made him quite likable. He also reminded Drakko of when he was human.

    Looking past Wheezy, Drakko saw Ron, the red headed medic, readjusting his belt. Sensing someone was looking at him, he looked up, and gave Drakko a thumbs up. Drakko responded in kind.

    The last member of the squad sat away by himself, arms folded across his V-plated chest and eyes closed. Thrukear Cayosin, or Night Blade, as translated, was an enigma to the squad. Nobody knew anything of his background. They just knew his nickname came from the extremely sharp blades on his arms and legs. He rarely spoke, and when he did, it was best to listen. Drakko tried to keep his distance from him.

    “We’ll be at the LZ in five!” The pilot shouted over the chinook’s speakers.

    A timer appeared on Drakko’s mask, counting down the times until the drop. Courtesy of Suzie, as if any of them needed it. All of them wore a mask. Each fitted perfectly despite differences in size and species. Six sets of visors glowed a disconcerting green.

    Drakko took a deep breath, trying to relieve the his tension, and felt a niggling sensation of amusement coming from the back of his mind.

    Nervous? Chill asked.

    You wish, Drakko retorted.

    You mean ‘we’ wish?

    Whatever, just remember to watch my back.

    Hey, it’s your sense I’m using. All I’m here to do is to remind you of them. A feminine chuckle rebounded inside his skull.

    Lucky me, Drakko thought back. He felt her retreat with another chuckle, and snorted to himself.

    “Kids,” he muttered.

    Chill was another entity within his head. A side-effect with getting hit three too many times by dragonstones. Stones that has turned thousands of humans into their scaly cousins, and implanted ‘feral minds’ as they were known, into their hosts. Drakko was hit with four of these, and in turn, received four feral minds. Chill was one that he kept, and the rest were done away with after many trials. She had slowly developed from his timid and shy side to a spunky dragoness, in his head. She was great for getting him out of jams when he is knocked unconscious, and covering his ass.

    “One minute!” The pilot yelled.

    “Alright everyone!” Suzie shouted, standing up. “Lock and Load! We got a base of ferals that are just begging to be filled with hot, burning lead.” She began speaking in a joking tone. “No breath weapons, that is unless you want barbecue.” Drakko knew she was dead serious. “Retreat, Hell!”

    “Ohh-Rawr!” Came the enthusiastic reply.

    Drakko checked over his gun one last time. A 2x scope for the close quarters of the mine, and a clip of hollow-point rounds. The matted finish fitted snugly against his shoulder, and he had painted a simple icon on the side of his mask with his two oddly colored horns behind it. It was his. He made a show of cocking it, and grinned at the infectious sense of anticipation radiating from Chill.

    “Ready Drakko?” Suzie asked across the metal deck, noticing his smile.

    “Just glad to be back in the fight, sir.”

    She smiled wanly. “That sounds like Chill talking, but whatever. You’ll do fine. I doubt the OP will end up FUBAR. This is routine stuff.”

    “Of course, sir,” Drakko replied.

    The cargo ramp lowered, allowing dirt kicked up by the heli’s downwash to spray inside.

    “Everyone out! Go, go, go!” Suzie shouted, thundering out of the cargo hold to the hard-packed dirt. Wind swept, rolling hills extended out in all directions. The rest of the squad lumbered out after her, the bright sun shining off their guns from a clear sky.

    Wheezy took one glance at their surrounding. “Welcome to bum fucked Egypt!” The comment earned a chuckle.

    “Okay, we’re one klick from the entrance,” Suzie growled as a waypoint appeared on their HUDs. “Move out!”

    The squad collected their gear and started walking as the chinook, now free of its load, lifted off in a cloud of dust back to the nearest air base. As Drakko went, sparse grasses and tough weeds crunched underfoot, reminding him of his home in Idaho. Some were large enough to come up to his raised ankle. Looking over, Drakko noticed that the humans were slow going, and had to keep their guns out of the clinging shrubs. Ron particularly was whining about the sticklers stuck to his pants.

    They hoofed across a decent amount of trackless wasteland, but they had strict orders to do so. In the sky they were too exposed. The Hierarchy scouts would spot them and their element of surprise would be lost. So, they were stuck marching.

    Fifteen minutes found them within what should be 100 meters from the mine entrance.

    “Anything?” Ralph asked, scanning the emptiness.

    “Nothing,” Wheezy replied.

    “I swore that if they got the coordinates wrong one more time, there’d be hell to pay.” Drakko had to agree with the giant. There would be hell to pay, but he wasn’t so sure nothing was out there. The flat desolation extended out around them.

    “They’re out there all right,” Suzie muttered. “But where would they be hiding?” She switched to thermal, but the heat bleeding off the ground made that impossible to be of use. She switched it back off with a growl of frustration.

    “They’re there,” Night Blade said.

    “How can you be sure?” Wheezy asked.

    “Up the contrast.”

    Drakko did just that, maxing it out until the world became black and white. He saw the others do the same. Together they scanned the area with their newfound perspective. Chill was the first to call it out.

    There! Ten degrees left, sixty meters.

    Drakko looked where he was told, and saw a thin blade of black amidst the white. An old and rotten wooden board pointed skyward. A marker for the entrance of the mine.

    “I see it,” he told the others, and started making his way forwards.

    “Hold it,” Suzie ordered. He stopped dead in his tracks. “Approach cautiously. They don’t know we’re here, and we want to keep it that way. Night Blade, you’re in front. Then, Ralph, Drakko, the humans, and me, in that order. Hand gestures only.”

    Drakko nodded, and waited for the other dragons to pass him before following. The rest of the squad formed up behind him. They made as little noise as possible as they came up on the board. Dragons, even the largest ones, can make a surprisingly small amount of noise for their sizes. Drakko’s squad more so.

    Dead plants crunched quietly underfoot. Drakko saw that just behind the marker was the mine entrance. All it really was, was an unassuming black hole in the ground, eight feet tall and ten abreast. No larger dragons could fit, so Drakko assumed this was for scouts only. He looked and signaled her.

    What next? She was quick to reply, and ordered Night Blade in.

    The Black crept down into darkness, and allowed it to swallow him whole. Drakko could barely see him if he squinted, until he disappeared around a corner. Behind, Ralph stood guard, scanning the skies with the barrel of his LMG.

    A message appeared on Drakko’s HUD, and he opened it. It was from Wheezy.

    Not much to look at, is it? Drakko didn’t feel the need to reply.

    A short while later Night Blade returned. He was covered head to tail in black dust from the slate buried underneath the ground, almost covering his dark hide. It made him blend in all the more. If Drakko hadn’t switched to thermal he might never have seen him, which was precisely the point.

    Status? Suzie signaled. Night Blade revealed that which he was named after. Flesh still clung to his arms, painting the blades red.

    Three dead, Night Blade replied.

    Suzie nodded, then looked to her sides where the squad waited. We’re going in! She blink-clicked a message to Ralph who confirmed the order, and stepped over to follow the squad in. A menacing growl issued from his muzzle as he crouched down to fit in the tunnel. They passed by three bodies not far from the entrance, all with torn out throats. Night Blade made it a point to wipe his blades clean on one’s corpse.

    Drakko had to duck slightly to fit, but Night Blade and Suze merely had to lower their heads and widen their stances. He clutched his Barrett tighter to his chest, feeling Chill scan their surroundings with his senses. She used his hearing more than eyesight, for which Drakko was grateful. Being originally a human, he was still largely eyesight oriented. Chill did not have that disadvantage.

    As they near scuttled their way forwards, storms of black dust would rain down on them from the ceiling. It got in every nook and cranny, making skin itch fervently beneath scales. Drakko had little problems with it, but if Night Blade was anything like Drakko’s old squadmate, Torkos, his V-plates would soon become a huge bother.

    Periodically along the walls and across the ceiling were wooden beams. The last remnants from the old mine. Every once in a while an old lightbulb could be seen hanging overhead. Night Blade had to continually remove those for they were in the way of the squad. He ripped them down with no small amount of contempt.

    Their surrounding quickly began to change. The wooden beams and tight tunnels soon gave way to open halls and working lights strung up on the ceiling. They were reaching the more inhabited areas. Places Drakko had seen far too many times.

    This was the most crucial part of the mission from what Suzie had said. Just before they’ve found the leaders of the outpost, when they were most likely to be caught and swarmed by hundreds of dragons. They would have very little to do at that point except retreat. The squad was not equipped to handle a large amount of enemies, especially inside the Hierarchy tunnel complex. That job was reserved for the massive amount of explosives in a backpack on Suzie’s back. Drakko thought most of it was C-4 to bring down the weaker portion of the tunnels, but with her you can never be sure.

    Night Blade held up a fist, stopping the squad. He  gestured multiple times which proceded down the line. Enemies. Unknown numbers. Engage?

    Instead of motioning a reply, Suzie blink-clicked a message over. Neutralize.

    Drakko poked his head out from behind Ralph to see Night Blade cling to the wall and scale it. At the roof he turned upside down and crawled around the corner. Zero sound was made. He’d gripped with claws only, holding himself up with sheer strength.

    We need to learn how to do that! Chill said.

    That we do. I think that’ll give me an edge over our purple friend. Drakko replied.

    And the rest of Bravo?

    And the rest of Bravo.

    There was a thump from where Night Blade had ghosted. Another thump, followed by a gurgle. Something screeched against metal, making Drakko’s hackles rise. Yet, the fireteam waited patiently in the poorly lit and dusty tunnel for Night Blade’s return. He didn’t look all too pretty.

    “Neutralised,” he told them, obviously at ease with the killing he reaped. Thick, musty smelling dragon blood had soaked in with the dust on his scales. Jagged lines marked one of his blades where something had scratched across it. Drakko assumed that was what had made the noise.

    “Keep movin,’” Ralph growled, brushing past a blank faced Night Blade.

    The hall beyond had been sprayed by blood. It coated the walls and stuck to the pads of the dragons’ feet and human combat boots alike. The dragons themselves were dead on the floor or slumped against the wall. The bodies were torn clear open by the Black’s sharp blades.

    Drakko’s stomach lurched somewhat at the sight of exposed innards. Even after everything, gruesome mutilations such as these still bothered him. Chill brushed against his mind in something akin to support. It did little against the five corpses.

    “Now what?” Wheezy asked, looking slightly green.

    “Night Blade gets to go have more fun,” Suzie replied.

    The assassin didn’t reply, but once again scaled the wall and disappeared into the tunnels and hallways, invisible against the slate. The way he did it seemed unnatural to Drakko, who was used to the open and simple run-and-gun battles he was used too. He thought he could settle into this type of stuff though.

    Ralph led the now five man fireteam into the outer ring of the outpost. Empty, spartan living spaces could be seen as they trooped past. All of them empty. Some corridors were still of the old mine. Those were smaller than most of the hallways, and still had wooden struts holding them up. The same ones that had been found near the entrance.

    At this point, Drakko was surprised they hadn’t seen more Hierarchy dragons yet. Suzie had explained earlier that Night Blade was tasked with diverting most of the Hierarchy’s manpower away from the fireteam. Distract and destroy, as she had called it. Drakko understood that, and was glad for it. But if she thought they were going to find the leader of this place without getting into one hell of a fight, then she’s lost her mind. He was just glad most dragons were too egocentric to flee.

    A low growl echoed down the tunnel, depthless in its menace. The fireteam turned, and stopped in their tracks.

    A massive quadruped dragon waited thirty meters down the tunnel. A best of extremely thick scales, it's coloring the darkest of blues. The heavy maw dripped drool, and fire glinted within. It's features were blocky, a testament to its single minded intent. The thing licked its chops. A barbed tongue rasped over scales. A battle dragon.

    At its side was a much smaller, bipedal dragon with brown scales. It's handler.

    Battle dragons were a notorious byproduct of Hierarchy experimenting. Some would say something went wrong while they crafted the dragon stones, but for the Hierarchy's purposes, everything went right.

    A normal dragon could be converted into a battle dragon by a crystal of unknown origin. The crystals cause the affected to blimp in size, changed into a tank of muscle, fire, and most importantly, rage. These dragon were always massive, the average being thirty to forty feet long. They could only get larger. Only when applied to the skin would these crystals work, eating into a dragons chest to change from the inside out. Drakko knew battle dragons were stupid, but to say they couldn't think would be a lie. They possessed an animal cunning that was terrifying to behold, as Drakko and Torkos had done on multiple occasions.

    The worst part was that the dull witted, living freight trains were teachable. Often they were found with a handler and followed its commands. Deprived of the ability to think for itself, a battle dragon’s only purpose was to serve until the end of its miserable existence. And that was precisely what the fireteam was up against. The entire outposts worth.

    The battle dragons roared its delight as the handler set it off to steamroll towards the fireteam. Each of its heavy footfalls were followed by a rain of slate dust.

    “Drakko, the legs!” Suzie shouted, all need for stealth gone. The fireteam raised their assortment of weapons, but none contained the sheer firepower of a Barrett .50.

    Drakko pulled the trigger twice, feeling the recoil rock against his shoulder. Two fist sized holes exploded open in the battle dragon’s kneecaps. It dropped onto its chest with a howl, sliding with the momentum of its charge. Parallel trails of blood followed. Snarling, it tried to get to its feet, but its front legs could not support the weight of its heavy body. Drakko paused a moment, long enough to reveal his question. Suzie nodded slowly.

    The boom rebounded down the hall, drowning out a crash as the battle dragon slumped to the floor. Its skull had imploded, showering bone chips and brain matter around its corpse.

    He lowered the smoking barrel of his rifle, frowning. He knew they had made a mistake. The handler had bolted, leaving its charge to be killed in order to warn the others. They needed to move before the place was swarming with scales.

    “We need to go,” Ron said, holding his CM901 assault rifle close.

    “Agreed. Let’s get out of here,” Suzie ordered, and Ralph took the lead once more.

    Wheezy crept to Drakko’s side. “Nice shots,” he said. The Red grunted back. He waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming.

    “A messy business,” Wheezy said, prying at Drakko. No reply.

    In his head, Drakko was conversing with Chill.

    Brings back memories, right Bryce?

    More than you know.

    I was there. You know that right?

    How could I forget. She went silent.

    Growls rose from the throats of hundreds. Drakko's ear fins were filled with the noise. Chill replied with a growl of her own, issued from Drakko's lips.

    They know, Chill said.

    There were voices from deeper in the mines. Heavy treads rained slate dust from the ceiling. Battle dragons hissed as they sought out the fireteam, handlers by their sides. Drakko's team had changed from the hunters to the hunted.

    With weapons to their shoulders, the fireteam picked up the pace. Long corridors became filled with Hierarchy dragons. Those with the best noses started on the trail left behind by the two humans, snuffling with muzzles to the floor. The fireteam was slowly being boxed in the maze of tunnels.

    Ralph stopped at a junction, holding up a fist to bring the team to a halt. Drakko poked his head out of line to watch as the massive dragon looked around the corner. He pulled back quickly. Drakko heard gravelly voices from the right, spitting orders that he could not make out. Ralph blink-clicked a message over the squad frequency.

    Multiple contacts. Need to get across this gap. Engage?

    How many? Suzie replied.

    Unknown. Lots coming and going. High twenties, lower thirties.

    Too many. Don't engage. Make the gap. A click registered his affirmative.

    Ralph checked down the corridor after smearing his muzzle with slate dust. His face became near black, and with this precaution he could watch the dragons and decide the best time to blt. Chill had a different idea for clearing the thirty foot gap. Without the chance of being seen.

    Bryce, I think we can get past this without having to wait half an hour for them to find us, she said with smug confidence.

    And that would be?

    Night Blade.

    ...Fine then.

    Drakko relinquished control over his body, feeling Chill come to the forefront of his brain. She experimented a moment, flexing his claws, flaring his nostrils, and slinging his rifle before she thought she was ready. She turned and sank his claws into the slate, crushing rock to form handholds.

    "Drakko, what are you doing?" Wheezy whispered. Chill was not one for talking. Her actions spoke louder than words.

    She pulled herself up using the wall for leverage. Slowly and silently she scaled the wall, using claws and talons to cut more places for her to grip. With sharpened claws, she easily worked her way to the ceiling. The rest of the fireteam, bar Ralph, watched in amazement.

    Near thirty feet up, she reached the roof. This was the tricky part, and she had to act cautiously else they would be discovered and bring the entire base on their heads. Angling herself oddly, she dug another handhold into the roof, and held on as she released the wall with her feet. It left her dangling from her makeshift handhold, muscles tight. Bending over and grunting with exertion, she brought her talons up to hang from just the ceiling on her belly.

    Below, Ron said something, but Suzie silenced him with  growl. Shifting into a more comfortable position on her belly, Chill started to make her way across the hallway. Her wings were folded tight against her back, covered in slate dust, her tail stuck straight out and flat against the ceiling.

    As she made her way over the junction, Ralph went across it. He must’ve seen a lull and took it, bolting with long strides. Chill watched with an upside-down perspective above him. It took less than ten seconds for him to clear it, in which time Chill had only gone a foot.

    Wheezy took Ralph’s place in line, and camouflaged his face in much the same way to a less than perfect result. He continued to wait as Chill made her agonisingly tiring way on the ceiling. Her arms burned and muscles twitched. Her face was a constant snarl. Arm over arm, she pulled herself forward.

    As her claw closed over another piece of the ceiling, her weight pulled it loose, and she fell.

    Chill! Drakko mentally shouted. He resumed control over his body, shoving Chill’s mental self out of sync to punch a claw upwards into the slate. Gripping tighter with his talons, and winding his thick tail around an outcropping, he halted the fall. It left him dangling with one arm swinging under him, hanging on by clawtips. Panting with tension, he suddenly felt the burning in his arms as his brain reasserted itself. All the exertion made itself known at once, the sudden shock of it almost making him lose his grip.

    A second wave of nauseousness washed over him, twice as powerful than before. Chill was not happy at being shoved away without a moment’s thought. Yet, seeing the precariousness of the situation, she remained silent. Drakko felt her seething at the back of his mind.

    Hearing voices, Drakko glanced to his left. His eyes widened and he desperately pulled himself flat against the ceiling with both arms. Slate dust rained down on his muzzle.

    He had seen something out of his own nightmares down the corridor. Dozens of Hierarchy dragons were milling about as a large quadruped Gray ordered them around. What looked like four or five battle dragons were stomping back and forth as their handlers received their orders. Some would prowl off as a search party, and others arrived to be formed into groups. Drakko took this in and more in a split second glance. They would be heading their way soon.

    Staring at the rock of the roof, he thought quickly.

    The Gray has to be a Lieutenant of sorts.

    Naturally, Chill said coldly, still miffed.

    Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

    I'm in your head. I HAVE too.

    Snorting his amusement, Drakko continued crawling, blink-clicking a message to Suzie at the same time.

    When he reached the other side three minutes and twenty six seconds later, Wheezy and Ron had crossed the gap, leaving Suzie last, but not last. In fact, she was getting ready to do something else entirely.

    Drakko’s sudden spark of inspiration suddenly put the team on a temporary offensive. A place where they belonged. Night Blade was out there wreaking havoc in the mines. It was time for them to do the same.

    Suzie had unslung her pack of explosives and was rifling through it. From a pocket she procured a small figurine of wood with a metal interior. The thing was elegantly carved into the likeliness of a tiny dragon blowing fire. Where the flame would spew was instead a small, hollow metal rod. On the dragon’s sides were microgaps in the wood that led to the metal interior. These gaps were geometrically placed to create an extremely high pitched whistle that became higher and higher the more air is blown down the figurines throat.

    Suzie closed her small ear fins on either side of her head. Drakko did the same, and Ralph covered his with two thick paws.

    Multiple times before, Drakko had the misfortune of suffering the sound of a dragonwhistle. Back when he used to train with Torkos two years ago, it was not an uncommon occurrence for their Sergeant to wake them up at six in the morning, dragonwhistle in hand and earplugs blocking out the noise. A dragonwhistle, if loud enough, can effectively neutralise most dragons as a threat. Size of the dragon and distance form the whistle itself were all factors to consider. In the tight confines of the cave system, its effects can be devastating.

    Putting the dragonwhistle to her lips, Suzie blew for all she was worth.

    The result could only be described as claws raking a chalk board, only one hundred times worse. Dragons all throughout the nearby tunnels were reduced to writhing bodies on the floor, clawing at their ears to spill blood. Battle dragons, while less affected, went on rampages. They roared and stampeded, trying to drown out the sound with their own as they unthinkingly crushed comrades underfoot.

    One barged its way into the junction, roaring and shaking its head to try and ward off the screeching in its ears. Ralph, Wheezy, and Ron had their guns up in seconds and pulled the triggers. Bullets spranged off the dragon’s thick hide. The beast looked up with bloodshot eyes and roared a battle cry. Ralph replied with a roar of his own, chugging away at the dragon even as the whistle tore at his eardrums.

    A lucky bullet penetrated scale and lodged itself into the thing’s skull. It dropped to the floor and didn’t get back up.

    The whistle continued to shriek its death toll.

    Drakko crouched at the entrance of the junction, rifle scope to his eye as he drew a bead on the Gray bellowing orders. Controlling the situation was impossible.

    As if sensing someone was staring at it, the Gray quit its yelling for order and looked at Drakko with narrowed eyes. Even at one hundred meters, Drakko’s scope made him feel as if he was right in front of the Gray. He could see the unrestrained, murderous intent in its eyes.

    He pulled the trigger.

    The Gray’s head blew apart in a showering welter of gore. The ground was soon awash in fountained blood. Slowly, almost gracefully, the heavy body slumped to the floor. Nobody heard a thing as Suzie’s lungs began to give out.

    She stopped, taking deep, relieving breaths as she tossed the figurine back into her pack and ran after her receding team.

    With the noise gone, dragons tried to restore order. They found the Gray’s body missing a head, pumping blood from its throat, and the battle dragon drowned in a pool of its own blood.