Chapter Text
“We’re going to need three teams – I think two of you to sabotage the security systems, one to coordinate with the resettlement group, and four for rescue and retrieval. Abi, you’ve been our primary liaison so far, so you’ll keep doing that. Joe and Nicky, you okay hitting the base? Ro, Akhosa, and Book, you’re with me. We’ll take projectile as well as energy weapons; once they know we’re there, they’ll likely shut down all our systems. That also means we’ll lose communications, but we have to maintain radio silence anyway. Joe and Nicky, you’ll still have your beacon. If you get into trouble you can’t get out of, set it off and we’ll come for you.”
“Nile, if you stop in the middle, the whole operation is off. Best-case scenario you miss the rendezvous and they’re free but with nowhere to go.”
“And worst-case scenario, we never get them out at all. But if you need us, we’ll come.”
Second left. Third right. Swipe the stolen chip card to get through the door. Joe’s behind him. Swipe again to access the mag lift at the end of the corridor. Up to the hangar level. First right. Joe’s still behind him. Second left.
Alarm.
The sudden blaring takes them by surprise, and the ambient light turns red for a moment. Then the noise changes from one long tone to a repeating pattern that presumably means something to the people that work here. “What do you think?” Joe asks him. “Code for ‘warning, dangerously handsome men on the loose?’” Nicky snorts quietly and shakes his head.
So much for Plan A. They’ll have to fight their way out. Plan B is probably useless as well; fighting this close to the hangar will make it almost impossible to steal a shuttle. Plan C it is, then – fight their way out, disappear into the wilds around the base, and make their way back to the shuttle they arrived in. They’ll be later to the rendezvous, but still within the window.
He doesn’t need to even look at Joe; he knows they’ve both come to the same conclusion. He doesn’t need to look to know that Joe is also unholstering his weapon, also moving so their backs are toward each other. He doesn’t need to look, but it’s Joe, and he will always want to look. So he does, and finds Joe looking back at him. Joe winks, the corner of Nicky’s mouth hitches up into a smile, and they keep going.
They make it one more corridor before they start to hear footsteps, from both in front and behind them, unfortunately. Looks like it’s time for Tranquility Dome ’08. There’s nothing in this corridor to shelter behind, but both sets of guards will have to come around a corner to reach them and that’s good enough. Nicky plucks a grenade off his vest, and Joe mirrors him. They kneel, facing each other. As the footsteps round the corners they release the safeties and roll the grenades, one to each end of the corridor, then lie flat and wait for detonation. The numbers against them much reduced, and the remainder stunned, it’s easy enough to take them out in a matter of moments. The guards’ armor isn’t made to withstand projectile weapons.
He’d almost feel sorry for them, if he didn’t know who they worked for.
They get to the hangars without further incident; either these people are far less competent than he was led to believe, or they’re too distracted by the damage he and Joe have done to dedicate more resources to finding the perpetrators. Either one suits his purposes. It won’t be so easy in the hangar itself – even if their card hasn’t been deactivated, there will definitely be personnel between them and the exit. Personnel who might be waiting for them.
The card still gets them into the hangar, which means that while their presence is known, their location and their use of the card is not. Nicky is grateful for any advantage they can get, but disorganization and sloppiness is always a shame. They manage to get a quarter of the way, hugging the wall and being as inconspicuous as possible, before they’re spotted and identified as the cause of the alarms. There’s shouting, a quick scramble for weapons, and the low hum of a disruptor pulse. All the unrecognized tech in the area is now useless, but Nicky prefers old-fashioned guns anyway.
He uses one of those guns to clear a path, while Joe takes care of the people behind them. Their opponents quickly realize that armor and even some physical barriers aren’t reliable shields against firearms, and they fall back to regroup. Nicky and Joe make it to a side door with nothing worse than a few near-misses.
They’ll have to cross this last 50 meters in the open; there’s no way to get to the retaining wall under cover. Once over the wall it’s a quick 10 meters to the trees. (Abinash would lecture him, but they look enough like trees he feels justified in calling them that, at least in the privacy of his own head.) The guards won’t be able to follow them directly; the drop on the other side of the wall is just a bit too far for people without rapid healing to chance it. And if they’re hit between the wall and the trees, they’ll still have enough of a head start to get back up and away before anyone can reach them.
Joe turns to him. “Give me the rest of your explosives. I’ll cover you till you get to the wall, you cover me from there, and we’ll go over together.”
“How are you on ammunition?”
“You’ll need more than I will. I’ll mostly be using,” Joe grins as Nicky hands over his heavy ordnance, “this, thank you.”
He leans in for a quick kiss. “Go,” Joe murmurs against his lips. “I’m right behind you.”
Nicky takes off running, and hears the blasts that Joe sets off to block or slow pursuit. He slides the last couple of meters, coming to a stop just at the edge and flipping over to lay down cover fire for Joe. Someone’s shooting from an upper window; they seem to think they’re outside Nicky’s range. He shows them otherwise. Joe reaches him unscathed and they prepare to drop, side by side.
He hears Joe cry out as they go over the top of the wall; and though he lands well, tucking and rolling, Joe lands with a stomach-churning thud. Nicky walks back to stand over Joe and keep watch until he’s able to get back up. It looks like he took a direct hit to his side between his hip and his ribs, possibly with additional injuries from the fall. It shouldn’t take long.
Nicky keeps an eye on the open area between them and the trees and listens for any sound of pursuit. He can hear the alarm from the base and the faint sound of shouting, rustling and animal sounds from the trees, and there’s something else, something nagging at him and trying to get his attention…
He looks down, and time stops. Nicky hasn’t seen an ocean in years, but all at once the pounding of the surf fills his ears and drowns out everything else. Because there’s Joe, lying at his feet. And Joe’s not healing.