Chương 50: Go Time

Today was the first day of war. I had prepared for it the best I could, reviewing the raid documents over and over. I barely ate. I barely slept. Just had to keep reviewing everything until I could keep the full shape of the building in my head. Didn't even leave my room the entire time. Sam had to deliver the shield to me directly since I had forgotten to get it myself, alongside the electrode she'd be using for monitoring my brain, and an earplug to accompany my earpiece.

The electrode itself was simple, I could just slot it into my mask so that when I wore it, she could get a clean read of how everything was flaring up. That wasn't as interesting to me as the shield was, however. It had a surprisingly efficient form; I was worried it'd be more garish. Standing it up, the shield came up to about halfway along my bicep. There were multiple handles, with labels. Two long handles on either side, labeled with the same dull print you see on prescription bottles with the words BRACE BARS.

Two thinner handles on the top and bottom, labeled CROWD BARS. The center of the shield had this tube-like tumorous growth from it, parallel to the shape of the shield. The hole in the top of it fit my arm perfectly, and allowed the shield to sit along my forearm. There was no heft to it I could feel, which didn't surprise me. The texture was bumpy and coarse, like all the time making it was dedicated to function over form.

The only decoration it had the honor of receiving was the bright orange coloration, and the words THE NEW SENTINELS printed along the front in bright blue. This thing wasn't designed for my public image. Just the basics for identification, and otherwise was meant wholly as a tool. That was all I needed, frankly, and that offered me more excitement than anything else. That excitement was what convinced me to even put my mask on and suit up for this raid.

We were taken through the exit tunnel that led to the Charlottesville police station, where we were escorted into a black van. Inside it already were six other men. All of them dressed like they were supposed to be in the office, with cheap deep black suit jackets and tablecloth-white shirts. The only difference was office-wear normally didn't include bulletproof vests and rifles. When we entered, I spoke immediately.

"Any of you have powers?" I asked, trying to see if any further modifications to our approach would be needed. May climbed in behind me, quickly taking a seat. One of them, with bleach blonde and very curly hair, spoke casually as he began strapping on some black mask that obscured most of his face.

"We're all regular humans," he explained through a muffled tone.

"But we're equipped." Pulling the magazine out from his rifle, he tipped the top of it towards me. The bullets looked a little abnormal, having prominent silver tips with a more angular shape.

"Depleted uranium. Should pop the wood the tree men got and burn 'em." I nodded, not admitting I wasn't sure what that all meant.

"How much of it do you have?" I inquired as I took my seat. He held up three fingers.

"Three thirty-round magazines total. That's ninety shots from each of us that'll work on the tree freaks. Four of us are using M4s, that's a total of three hundred and sixty rounds that we expect to work on Wyrdwood. We also have three magazines of normal hollow points, which should be more than enough for regular unarmored targets. We shouldn't even need a sixth of all this." Another nod from me.

"Ma- Spectroma and I will make sure of that." Looking towards May, I saw her playing with her hands. Resting my hands on top of my shield, I spoke.

"How are you holding up?" She snapped towards me like I caught her hand in the cookie jar.

"Oh- Sorry. Just trying to psyche myself up still." Another agent from the commission, head shaved bald, spoke up.

"I've got Adderall if you need to keep your head on a swivel." May shook her head.

"No! God, no. I don't think starting a meth addiction's going to be the right way to get used to a raid where I could get shot at..." she explained, trailing off.

"Could, not will," was what I had to say to that.

"You stay behind me. Nothing's getting past me. If you stick to my back, you'll be the safest person in that house." My gaze returned to the group. My mind tried to process their appearances; it was quicker than names. Blonde man who first spoke. He had pretty confident body language. Only one who was wearing that black mask. Must have been team leader. Or at least, the kind of person who defaulted to a leading position due to being able to speak for the others. Bald man. Was hair-thin.

Given his reference to having stimulants, he was likely on them. I couldn't see his eyes past his thick sunglasses. They were a different style to Tancred's, wrapping around his head and glistening like an oil slick. Same kind of rifle as the blonde man. One man with a military sort of buzz cut, I recalled those being known as high-and-tights. Same rifle as the other two. Dark skin, wearing another pair of those sunglasses. He was just staring at the van's wall. Likely focused on the task at hand.

Good to know at least one could do that. A man with hair similar to mine, short and dark. But his was better kept. He similarly wore one of those masks like the blonde man did, and had the same rifle as the other three. Distinctly had a pair of blue latex gloves, the kind you usually expect on a doctor. Wasn't sure why. Two other men were there. One had dirty blonde, long hair and a normal pair of glasses that couldn't hide his green eyes. He carried a longer rifle with a scope on it.

Next to him was a man with another high-and-tight, wielding a similar rifle, though the scope on it was different.

"Are all of you coming in with us? All it said was I'm leading the breach," I asked. The blonde spoke, broadly gesturing to the group.

"Four of us are directly going to be with you. I'm their team leader, due to the discreet nature of this mission, you may not have our names. Refer to us by number of priority. I'm 1. Shaved head is 2, and pointman — AKA he will be the first following you in. Jarhead there is 3, and is your secondary breacher. Blue gloves, 4, is rear security and medic." Nodding along, I tipped the top of my shield towards the two long-rifle-wielding men.

"And them?"

"Blondie's 5, the other jarhead is 6. They're our marksmen on the Northeast and Southwest. They'll be observing direct perimeter to deal with individual presences and to report larger groups to SWAT." Another nod from me, as I looked over all of the men. I then squinted, before realizing that wasn't visible through my mask.

"If you all have different roles, why are you all dressed the same and using the same equipment?" If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. 1 shook his head.

"We're using loaner equipment from the SIT that we keep in our jackets."

"SIT's involved?" I asked.

"Partially. We have them on contact in case we need Regulators, but we did get an agreement for basic equipment — confiscated super equipment. I can assure you, we're all set for this encounter, Hercules." Another nod from me as my hands rested on top of the shield.

"Alright." May spoke up again, audibly quelling the anxiety in her voice this time.

"Is there any news of like... hostage risks or anything like that? Kidnappings?"

"Nothing that would be known. If you see a hostage or anyone that seems to be there against their will, call it out and tell us. Then you just need to get them somewhere safe, worst case have them sit in a closet and make them count to three hundred. If they can get out, report it on the earpiece so that they're not shot by 5 and 6." Didn't hear anything from her, so I assumed she just nodded and accepted that. At least, I thought she did until she decided to did bring up another question.

"What about anyone who decides to give up? Maybe early recruits who haven't been fully convinced yet."

"We've got zip-ties for detaining anyone who surrenders peacefully. If we run our supply dry, tell them to just lay on the floor with their hands out, because if they try to escape they'll be shot, and we're permitted to use lethal force." Those were the stakes at play here. People were likely going to die. But they're terrorists. They're trying to kill others. And we're not the ones doing the killing, just the agents. So I can't dwell on it too hard. They all signed on for this.

I was kind of forced into it, but nothing I wouldn't have to confront if I was doing this as a vigilante. The rest of the ride was quiet, until chatter started playing on my earpiece. First was Sam's voice.

"Hey, Hercules, just checking call clarity. Everything's clear?" her voice echoed in my head. That bone vibrating stuff was still very odd feeling to me. It wasn't an actual vibration, just felt like sound echoing in my head. Didn't even feel it in my ears.

"Yeah, I've got you. How's my head looking?" I asked the air after pressing my finger to the earpiece. Still wasn't used to the idea of talking to nothing.

"Everything's sitting pretty neutral. No distinct flare-ups. I'll send a large packet to really rattle your skull if you seem to be zoning out, okay? I've got recordings of Antal Dorati's performance of the 1812 Overture that'll work for that."

"Why's that?"

"Because he used real cannons. You won't be able to ignore it." She almost laughed as she said that. Could hear the breaking in her voice.

"Appreciated." Another voice echoed through my head.

"Agents, Sentinels." Tancred.

"We're presently in observation. SWAT is en route to surround the house just out of visual range. Your driver has been given documentation for how he's going to be delivering you all. You're going right at the front door. He's going to be turning so that Hercules can pop right out of the back and start the raid. Anticipate being shot at." 1 spoke, touching his own earpiece.

"Any new information?"

"None. We tried using Lidar to detect any sort of outposts, hiding spots, there was nothing. We did see something interesting, though. Surrounding the house, in a wide area, the ground composition is distinctly different. It's all soft fertilizer when it should be beaten down dirt."

"What's that mean, Tancred?" I asked.

"Nothing verified, but likely a lot's been dug up. Could be for deploy spots for tree men. To protect the driver, he will be evacuating the second you've all left the van."

"What about the marksmen? Won't they be at risk?" 5, the one with the long hair, spoke up.

"Oh, we're getting out before you."

"What?"

"Give it... two minutes." That was met with silence, until almost exactly two minutes had passed. Turbulence. Thudding beneath the wheels. We weren't on road anymore. The two marksmen reached into their jackets, acquiring thin fabrics that they unwound into wide-spanning blankets that they wrapped around themselves as they approached the back door.

"Good luck, all of you," 5 said. He then shoved the back doors open as he and 6 fell out of the back door, rolling along the soil. 4 reached out to yank the van doors shut.

"What did they just do!?" May asked, as 1 was quick to answer.

"They're doing an early roll-out to get into position. Those sheets are ballistic weave, they'll be fine." Looking towards her, I could see the confusion on her face. The domino mask didn't really do much hiding of her expressions.

"Is that normal?" she asked. 1 shrugged.

"They've done it falling out of helicopters before. They'll be fine." May took a deep breath before leaning back against the wall. Earpieces came on. Thick Southern accent.

"Driver speaking. We're on direct approach now. Big straight line. You better thank Jesus we're armored, becau-" PAN TA-TING PAN PAN PAN TING"-Because we've got a pack of hippies blasting away already! Hold onto your seats, I'm gonna be doing a swerve so you can boot right out! Hercules, you're first out!" PANPANPAN TING TING PANPAN I grabbed my shield, shoving my arm into the opening for holding it normally as I walked towards the back doors of the van. Reaching out, my other hand grabbed the top of the van.

My fingers dug through the metal to maintain my grip. Should be fine. Then, I felt it. Inertia. The van had swung around harshly. May yelped from the sudden motion, but then I could hear her taking a deep breath. She'd be fine. The inertia stopped. My earpiece yelled out "Go time!" from both the driver and Tancred. I can do this. I have to do this. There was no time for fine movements. I just rushed forward, shield up, and broke through the van doors. I could hear the agents yelling "Go, go!"

as light crossed my path. The house was even more dilapidated in person. Immediately I could see men in green robes in the windows, rifles up. I brought my shield up in turn, and felt the hailstorm as they unleashed lead fury on me. I waited until the storm stopped before I began running.

"With me!" I yelled, not even sure who was behind me. The van's engine roared as it retreated from the gunfire, though my focus was on the front door that was still accessible. My shield went up as I went through it like it wasn't even there. Dirt, must, and dust all floating through the air, caught by sunbeams that gave you hints of the invisible river currents of debris that infested every old home. Right in front of me was a man with what looked to be a shotgun, leveled at me.

My shield came up just in time to feel something thudding against it. Trudging towards him as the first thud was followed by a second and third, I swatted him aside with the shield, sending him sprawling across the wooden floor. Turning in the same direction I knocked him in, I saw a door half-open. I rushed towards it, prepared to dive straight into Hell.