CH 16. Infiltration TF2 Fanfiction - general
Spotlights scoured the grounds and highlighted the few trees as is flickered on and off. There was a slight rustle in the brush, but the soldier on duty ignored it. Lots of things lived in the desert; there wasn't anywhere for the enemy to hide so he continued polishing his shotgun. He didn't see the knife glint and go for his throat till after it was slit, but then it was too late.
The shadows made an unearthly sound.
"That was brutal."
"And clean too, look, not a single drop of blood on anything but the blade."
"Ok so I have to admit, that's pretty clever." One of the figures bent down and checked the soldier's pockets for any form of identification. It located the man's dog tags and carefully removed them, then swapped his own for them and placing his into his pockets. They jingled. He also picked up the shot gun. "Now, how you suppose we get the sniper on the roof there for his ones?" the figure indicated to a silhouette of another man who couldn't see them in the shadows.
"I thought I'd leave that for you, young man."
"Tch, figures. Hey one question; How long does a disguise work for when it's used on an already dead man?"
"Same length of time it would on a live one. Unless you're killed, or in the case of the already deceased, the medic does a post mortem, and that could be hours, days, weeks.. Unless the doctor is REALLY clever
then it would be seconds."
"I have an idea. Make sure this body is well hidden, otherwise we'll be discovered long before we get them out of there."
The figure that spoke stepped into the light and lit a smoke. He shouldered the gun under his arm and proceeded to patrol. He even started to whistle. The clumping of the heavy soldier's boots thudded along the walkway until they paused, not too far from the feet of the sniper. The sniper looked at him and tipped his hat, the soldier grunted and saluted in such a way that would make any psychotic drill-Sergeant cry.
"See anythin' interesting mate?"
The soldier grunted. "Same shit different smell. Fuck all happening but gest you wait, those scummy blue wiggling maggots will do ANYTHING to keep that rig. Why I want to tear them up and grid their bones into my coffee!"
The sniper smiles. "Yeah base duty sucks. We miss out on all the fuckin' fun." He relaxed and looked back through his scope into the darkness.
The shadows moved oddly and the man looked up from the scope and realised that the change was coming from behind him. He spun around, "What the Blaz-!"
The man fell at the soldier's feet, his killer smiling under his soft cap. The soldier twirled the shovel and swung it playfully like you would a bat.
"Maybe for you, sonny-jim. For me, the fun's just starting."
The figure that was following the soldier from a good distance revealed itself; another red sniper stood beside him and puffed out a smoke ring. "Nice work. I know what she saw in you."
"Can-it will you? We've only have a few minutes. The shovel made a louder noise than I expected, we're gonna be expecting company." There was a pause. "And sound more 'Australian' would you? I thought you were an actor?! You sound awfully civilised for a man of the wild."
The sniper rolled his eyes and pulled out a disguise kit. "Ok, what do you want him to be
"Let's go with a spy
and put your dog tags on him."
"It'll make it more authentic."
"Since when did you get so, you know.. full of it?"
"Oh you know, you meet one soldier, you kind of have met them all
. With the few exceptions
. That and when you're a sergeant you have to be VERY good at yelling at other people to obey orders. Comes naturally I suppose after so long without doing so."
"I've only ever heard of a few scouts hitting that rank. Guess they give it to anybody these days huh?"
"Actually, sarge, I still outrank you, so let's not bring it up and get on with it. How long will it take?"
"Two shakes of a lambs tail." The soldier looked at the sniper. "It means in a minute ok?"
"OI YOU THERE?! WHAT IS GOING ON UP THERE!?"
"Now or never Frenchie." The soldier whispered hurriedly and then leaned over the railing. "WHICH ONE OF YOU MAGGOTS SAID THAT?! COME OUT OR I'LL BLAST YOUR ARSE BACK TO THE ROCKS YOU CRAWLED OUT FROM!" the soldier turned and hissed at the Sniper who had finished putting the mask over the head of the unconscious man, "give me the rife and stand back."
"What do you plan to do?" the sniper looked at him wide-eyed as he hung his dog-tags on the man.
"Stand back, I don't want any blood splatter on you, we need to make it look like you killed him from a distance."
The sniper stood back and the soldier fired the rifle, a nice clean bullet shot through the brain and handed back the gun. "There, now it looks like YOU killed him."
There was a rush off feet which stopped at the stairs beneath them. There was a red Heavy and a red scout both standing there, neither of them too inclined to climb the stairs to be too close to them. The expression of the scout was one Baz had seen before and had had himself a few times in the past when faced with the current squad's soldiers he was with. Time to show who was boss.
"Is everything all right up there?" the lager man bellowed with cupped hands.
"DOES EVERYTHING LOOK FINE TO YOU COMMIE?" Baz snapped back. He was determined to sound like the soldier from hell. "We just found and executed an enemy spy! Does that sound like all is well?!"
The scout, a lot younger than Baz, opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.
"Don't look like me like a deer in a jeeps headlight's son! You look like you're attempting to catch flies! Pick up the slack and help us take this dead French-son-of-a-bitch down to the hold! No wait." Baz paused for dramatic effect, which gave him small satisfaction at watching the scout cringe with a head full of thoughts about being issued an order and being forced to actually do any sort of work. "Better yet, have they got those prisoners to spill the workings of the enemy base yet?"
The heavey and the scout shook their heads. "No sir, Miguel still can't get a word out of them. They're slippery little buggers I'll give them that, sir!" The scout quipped.
"Then help Sheep-boy here carry his carcass down to the cells, maybe seeing a dead colleague might get those lips flappin'!" the scout looked at him blankly, so he added, " That was an order, you gangly legged Nance!"
The red scout saluted, "YES SAH!" and bolted up the stairs faster than a ferret after a rat and grabbed the dead man's legs, while Frances posing as the red sniper grabbed his arms and both heaved with what strength they could muster. The body barely made it inches off the steel walkway. Just like any typical hard arsed soldier he'd met, he clicked his tongue, loudly and irritably so everyone could hear before grabbing the scout, forcing the young man to let go and the body too thud heavy onto the steel.
"For crying out loud Son! Put yer back into it! Like this!" in one swoop the soldier grabbed the dead man and threw him over his shoulders with ease, or at least enough to look believably like it was easy, years of running gave Baz legs of steel, however he still grunted and flinched, he didn't expect the man to be so heavy. He gave the scout a glare that could have melted lead. "What'er you staring at Nancy? Lead the way otherwise I'll haul you over my knee and give you one hell of a lashing for being a weak little mamma's boy!" the scout snapped to attention and darted down the stairs to lead the way without looking back to see if they would follow. It was clear that the soldier while not the fear of god but the utter terror of something far worse to come- would tear him a new one if he hung around and didn't obey direct orders. The heavy turned and followed slowly, leaving the sniper and the soldier to bring up the rear. There was something's he wasn't willing to stick his thick neck out for and the scout was amount them.
"Nice Job." Frances whispered as he walked ahead of Baz. "Your rather believable and bloody scary."
"Oh believe me, I'm nothing compared to Chatter and Irene when they found out I rigged the Christmas party a few years back
mind you that was hilarious from the stand point of seeing a room full of highly trained men run for the latrines in unison due to laxatives." He paused a second to shift the extra weight. "The court-martial was well worth every second of it."
Frances shook his head and pulled the slouch hat down to hide his smile. "She always told me you were a prankster. That's why she loved you and never fell for me."
They followed the two real RED personnel in silence long enough to cross several corridors.
There was a grunt from under the grenadier's softcap.
"Shouldn't be, she was very beautiful, any man would
" he hesitated when he noticed his partner in crime stood dead in his tracks. Then the man moved forward again, re shouldering the dead body and soldering past him. "Ok wrong time to mention-CRACK!" Frances grabbed his nose, blood was rushing out of it at an alarming rate. Both the heavy and the scout turned around, the heavy in surprise, and the scout out of pure curiosity and then he spun on his heel realizing that could have been him and relived that it wasn't he marched forward.
"This way gents!" he chimed, attempting to hide any fear in his tone.
"That's the last time you will ever give me lip you Kalgoorlie Cow-Herding Canadian!" Baz snapped, staying in character pretty well, despite the over whelming urge to drop the dead body and tear the Frenchman to pieces that would blow their cover. He marched past the heavy, the larger man waiting for the sniper and handing him a handkerchief for his broken nose. Trying to keep his mind off killing the frog till later, he tried focusing on where they were being lead. As a scout, he had raided his fair share of enemy bases, most of which were built exactly the same as his own side, which lead him to believe that the same building company was involved, smelled profit and worked for both at the same time. This base however was large and a network of narrow twisting corridors that lead off to other rooms. He began to wonder if this was the famous impenetrable 'STEEL' base he had heard about from various ramblings of other more experienced and almost dying and highly traumatized scouts. Up till now, he thought they were just hallucinating due to the tortured ways they had been kept alive as prisoners before they were rescued and was superstition. He'd outlived most of all of those young men now, the ones that had died horribly due to internal trauma, and some that survived where sent home to live in mental homes as there was no REAL normal home life for them to return to. Looking around though, it was clear he'd never see anything like it before.
Something's he could instantly recognize. The crates for example. He was vaguely aware after being stationed at the freight supply base that both sides got their weapons, upgrades and explosives from the same company. Being told that the supplier knew both the leaders of each side of the war and would remain neutral as long as both sides got the exact same special treatment wasn't very comforting
something about being even handed with the previous owner's sons
anyway Baz didn't really listen and take it all in, after all he WAS nineteen, ignorant and believed anyone over the age of twenty five tended to waffle on like they knew everything. All he cared about at the time was how to stop other people filling his own backside full of lead.
MANN CO. Wasn't it owned by some wack-job Australian? He'd have to ask Damien or Irene that one, though Irene had been using Baz's own customized weapons for years. They were more durable and didn't set themselves alight for no reason for one thing. Whatever the case, this base was stacked high with them. They were either planning another assault and gearing themselves up for a large attack or they could be just leftovers from the last one. He didn't like the look of it from either perspective. There was enough ammunition lying around to wipe out a thousand large platoons, despite the fact the Blu side in the war were relatively small; heck there was enough stuff her to blow up a whole country!
The scout stopped infront of two large bolted doors, which the heavy lifted the heavy bolts across and out so they could walk inside. The room beyond was like any standard prison cell, there where iron bars laced own the corridors that lead to another little room at the end, which normally housed the prisoner interrogations. The door to that room was ajar and you could see sections of a chair with leather straps tied to it that the prisoner would be sitting in while they would go about their inquiries which involves tools like brass knuckles, knifes and other things that could shatter bones and leave you with all your fingers facing the wrong way.
Frances shuddered. It was impossible not to when you realized that for some unfortunate souls, this would be their last resting place.
The heavy opened a cell door next to one that was occupied. "Put the Stiff in here. I go and come back an' tell Miguel that you have brought a present. Wait here." The large man slammed the door after Baz dumped the body into the small holding cell.
The occupants in the one beside it watched carefully, and then Baz turned and spoke as he stood up and brushed himself off. "How'd yer like that, you smarmy jokers?! They won't send anyone to save you now after this! And if they do, I'll be ready for them!" he flashed an evil smile from under the soft cap, the shadow of the hat's brim kept enough of his face hidden.
The other prisoners shifted, one almost leapt up to shout in defiance when they were pulled back and had a hand slapped over their mouth. "Shhh. Do you WANT them to kill us?"
Baz risked a glance at them. He knew only one person with that voice.
The man that was holding the other one back was defiantly Kingston. He looked not only worn out from all the fighting beforehand, but trying very hard to keep his temper in check while Lee was failing around trying to break free to yell and shout and give the red team a piece of her mind. The only reason he knew it was lee was she was wearing Laurance's hat.
The heavy had left the three Red's alone to go fetch his superior, and when the footsteps died away and the door was closed and the sound of it being securely bolted into place did anyone move. In truth, no one wants to take on a man who's hundreds of times your weight in a fight, chances are you're going to be on the receiving end, unless the man has a sudden heart attack, but lady luck was not good at favoring the brave.
It was too easy. The scout was nervy and jumpy now he was left with the sniper and the soldier. All they had to do was make sure he didn't scream. Baz walked in front of the skinny kid, and Frances innocently wandered around behind. The Scout was too busy watching the Baz waiting for the man to yell at him again so he wasn't paying Frances any attention. Fatal mistake.
The corpse of the young man folded onto the concrete floor. Frances spun the sniper arrow between his fingers like he would with a butterfly knife. "I've been itching to do that for the past hour or so since we met him."
Baz fleeced the young man's corpse. He found a small set of lock picks and held them to the dim light. "Well what have we got here? Someone must have been really light fingered before we met him." He threw the picks so Frances could catch them. "Your turn, sunshine. But make it quick as that heavy will not be gone for long."
"Is that really you?" Kingston had stood up and walked over to the bars.
Baz tipped the soft cap. "Indeed, you don't leave men behind, even if they are captured. Although I know I'm going to be dancing on a fire pit when we get back, but that can wait." He smiled.
"So you mean this is 'off the books' right?"
The jingling of the lock picks ceased and the bar door swung open. Frances spun then on his fingers with a cocky expression on his face as finally some of his other boyhood skills where coming to the fore to be useful. Both Kingston and Lee filed out, both grateful to be out of there.
"Now what?" Lee said to the world in general. "You got in, but how are you going to get us out?" the sentence hovered in the air all big and pink.
"We can't all go for the escape route at once, which will surely get us spotted." The spy pointed out. "That, and once they've realized the prisoners are missing we're going to be in the thick of it."
"Hmm, your right." Baz mulled it over. "We need to split up. Maybe we can take some of their operations out along the way? That would cripple them and make escaping easier in the chaos. I'm sure we passed the main operations room back the way we came somewhere."
"I'll be happy to re-arrange a few faces." Kingston cracked his knuckles.
"No, it might not come to that, but we do need your strength though. How good are you at destroying things?"
A grin graced the soldier's square features. "Extremely good at it, sir."
"Capital, then you can come with me, as I'm intending to shut down all their main communication systems." Frances purred. If there was one thing the spy loved to do, it was to shut the enemy down and limiting their ability to communicate.
"Alright, then we'll take the main ammunition dept. that we went through. There seems to be a lot on this base, and even tho we can't get them all we should be able to make a dint in their major reserves for any more attacks on the Gravel pit for the time being."
"And how are you planning on doing that?" Frances gave the scout a lopsided look of one who didn't believe in bullshit.
Baz shrugged. "Oh you know, a little bit of hocus, a tiny bit of some pocus and maybe a whole box load of grenades if I can get my hands on them." He looked at Lee. "You ready for a bit of destruction Slick? The kind that makes you wish you brought some clean underwear?"
"Oh I'm ready, I have a few scores to settle."
"Good! Glad to hear it!" Baz thumped her back jovially. "All right we'll meet by the way we got in, and try to take some of this place down on our way out. Let's move out!" he grabbed the scout's scatter gun and handed it to Lee, and gave Kingston his rifle before heading off in the direction the main artillery rooms of the base.