SNAFU: Hunters

A peal of thunder erupted forty meters up the ridge, interrupting the urgent missive from Horus. Sierra and Tango dropped and narrowly avoided the high caliber penetrators directed at them. The machine-gun scythed into their earthen cover, spitting a rain of stony splinters over the prone commandos.

“Suppress that damned gun,” Sierra demanded over the comms.

The staccato of gunfire intensified as the pride renewed their suppressive fire. The belt-fed redirected its attention back down the slope to silence the barrage and Sierra took advantage of the opportunity and raised her head for a look.

“Specialist, what’s your condition?” she asked.

“Pissed myself a little, Staff Sergeant, but am otherwise intact.”

Sierra chuckled despite herself. Modified they may be but the pride were still fundamentally human.

Tango shook her head. “Might not want to laugh too hard, Staff Sergeant. It looks like you took some shrapnel. You’re bleeding through your pants leg.”

Sierra grunted and reached for her calf, feeling the lacerations she hadn’t noticed. They stung at her touch but she diagnosed them as superficial. She grinned. Better a little blood than wet panties.

‘Four hostiles headed your direction’, Horus said through the implants in their ears, which kept them in contact even if the rest of their comms broke down.

Sierra glanced at the wrist-screen, viewing four thermal signatures through the drone’s sensor suite. She snapped her carbine up in time to catch the first combatant in her optics. Cross dot merged with silhouette and jacketed lead punched through yielding flesh. Momentum carried the combatant backward a short distance, rifle clattering from his hands. The three other hostiles took notice and ducked back, stopping short of entering the Staff Sergeant’s line of sight.

“I’ll keep their heads down. You go pay a visit and share the good word of our Lady of Slaughter.”

“My pleasure, Staff Sergeant,” Tango replied with a purr, rising to sling her carbine.

Sierra released a burst of rounds to discourage curiosity as Tango set to scaling the rocky incline. The staff sergeant watched as Tango crawled up and over, disappearing behind the jagged rise. The belt-fed proceeded to spit certain death downrange. When Horus confirmed Tango was perched above the three hostiles exchanging shots with the Staff Sergeant, Tango unsheathed the Kukri from her thigh and drew the .45 from her hip holster.

“On three,” she subvocalized to Sierra through the comms.

One.

Two.

At three Sierra ceased fire and watched with amusement as Tango dropped into the midst of the hostiles. Death from above. The specialist struck with knife and pistol in a savage, whirling sequence worthy of the Goddess’s praise. Blindsided, the combatants died without struggle, major arteries severed and critical organs punctured in the blink of an eye, the walls of their makeshift cover painted in wet and dripping crimson. Tango ran her tongue along the flat of her knife, no doubt savoring the copper sacrament.

Sierra rushed by at a near sprint. “Vicky is hit,” she said between breaths.

Tango sheathed her knife and followed the Staff Sergeant, swapping pistol mags on the fly. They closed in on the last two enemies in the battle zone, snapping off shots as they navigated the uneven footing. Hollow points from Tango’s .45 connected with the nearer of the two, expanding upon penetration and disrupting soft tissue. The machine gunner pivoted, hefting the belt-fed to fire along the path they tread, finger jammed against the trigger in desperation.

From there on, the trail offered no further concealment for Sierra and Tango. They unloaded on the gunner the instant they broke cover. Several bullets found their mark, hammering into the hostile’s torso, but he remained upright. Staggering, he braced to continue his stream of fire. Sierra let go of her carbine and drew her sidearm, expecting the 7.62 to shred her before she could get another shot off.

To their mutual astonishment the gunner’s head cratered in a puff of red mist and gray pulp and he crumpled in a heap of ruined flesh.

‘All threats neutralized. Battle zone clear. Initiating patrol sweep’, Horus broadcast.

“Sorry, Staff Sergeant, you were taking too long,” Foxy said over the comms, “Thanks for setting up the shot though.”

“That was your handiwork?” asked Sierra.

“Affirmative.”

Sierra thanked her and got back to the business at hand. “How’s Vicky?”

“Alive,” Specialist Victor answered over the link. “MG winged me but the weave deflected the worst of it. Hurts like a mother but I’ve suffered worse.”

Sierra breathed a sigh of relief. The pride was intact. “In that case haul ass up here and bring our packs,” she ordered.

“Yes, Staff Sergeant, on our way.”