Chapter Text
A skyscraper collapsed, the air full of broken glass and steel. Shrieking alarms echoed throughout the downtown area, but the squeal of rubber on asphalt drowned them out as Agents Maine, York, and Carolina raced along the highway. They swerved through traffic, civilians desperate to get out of the way of the runaway jeep.
“Team B, report. Team B!” Carolina shouted into her radio, one hand on her radio and the other holding her turret steady.
“Team B is down. We have wounded and are taking fire.” North’s voice was as calm as ever while he relayed their desperate situation.
“Be right there.”
“Negative. Get the package, get it out of the city.”
“Roger that.” Carolina brought her hand back down to the gun in front of her, while York steered them to the top of the overpass the package would soon be crossing under.
Once in position, Carolina gave Maine the signal. The jeep kept speeding down the highway as the agent jumped out of the jeep and off the overpass. Maine hit the hood of the car carrying the package; it swerved wildly as the driver tried unsuccessfully to maintain control of both the package and the steering wheel. Maine raised the weapon he’d found in the vault high into the air, then stabbed down brutally.
He picked up the white briefcase from the passenger’s seat and strolled back to the jeep where York and Carolina were waiting.
“Nice work Maine.” Carolina nodded to an empty seat in the jeep.
He grunted a reply and climbed inside the vehicle.
York rolled his eyes and punched the gas. “Yeah. Subtle as always.” He paused, then added, “The response team should be on its way soon.”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here!”
The jeep peeled away, gunships in hot pursuit. Enemy soldiers equipped with jetpacks jumped out, flashes of color in York’s mirrors.
Carolina and York acknowledged the opposition with simultaneous shouts. Carolina spun the machine gun around to shoot behind them, while York shouted apologies to the other drivers he passed. Maine stood in his seat to fire at the jetpack fighters as well.
“Maine, protect the briefcase,” Carolina chastised him, but was interrupted when he suddenly collapsed. “Maine?” Then she saw the solider on the trailer ahead of them. “Sniper!” Another bullet pinged against the turret and Carolina ducked out of the way. “Punch it, York!”
“It’s punched,” he shouted back.
Someone landed on the hood of the jeep, and Carolina leaped forward to kick him off. She reached to grab the package from Maine’s limp body, but the drop trooper jetted back to the jeep with the same idea. Carolina’s balance was shaky from standing on the front of a moving vehicle, and the blows they exchanged threatened to knock her off entirely. The other solider took the opportunity to seize the briefcase.
Carolina threw him back with a kick and fumbled trying to catch the case out of the air. Suddenly she was slammed off her feet and the case flew into the air once again, only to be caught and strapped to the jetpack of yet another enemy. He stepped forward onto Maine’s back and pointed his gun at the prone agent.
Before he could fire, York jerked the jeep violently to the side, throwing both Carolina and the enemy solider forward onto a trailer full of barrels. The barrels flew off wildly, but York maneuvered quickly around them. The package fell off the jetpack and onto the truck, where it was jumbled with the rest of the cargo. Carolina dove into the mess of barrels and crates, reaching for the package.
An enemy solider emerged from the rubble, the sniper who had shot Maine. Adding to the chaos, he started grabbing barrels off the truck and hurling them at York.
It bounced off the front corner of the jeep and York shouted indignities at the sniper. He swung around and slammed into the truck, jostling the trailer and launching the now awake Agent Maine to land next to Carolina, where the two were quickly cornered by the enemy soldiers.
The Agents fought back-to-back, now in possession of the case, but Maine’s brute force was countered easily by the enemies’ agility. York pulled up next to the truck and tossed Maine’s weapon to the truck, where it was caught by Carolina.
She spun towards her opponent and buried the blade of the weapon into their chest. Carolina kicked the body off the truck, and spun around to find Maine on the ground, the solider he had been fighting standing above him, a pistol aimed directly at Maine’s helmet.
She flew at him, swinging the blade like a sword, a scream of rage in her throat. She missed, and the blow glanced off the truck, but she had prevented any shots from being fired. Fueled by her fury, she kicked and punched with finesse, driving her opponent back and into the sniper standing behind him.
Maine stood and reloaded his weapon with grenades; he shot towards the brawl at the tail end of the trailer. The explosion rocked the truck and threw all four fighters into the air. Carolina reached for Maine as they flew forwards, but couldn’t reach him.
She landed in the jeep once again; Maine wasn’t so lucky. He rolled along the highway, briefcase still secured on his back, until a truck drove into him and knocked him into the air yet again. This time the package separated from his armor to be snatched by yet another drop trooper.
The sharp sound of a motorcycle blared at Carolina’s side. She turned to see Agent Texas roll up on a motorcycle, easily keeping pace with the chase. With the new Freelancer there were, of course, new problems. Several gunships and jetpack troopers flew down the highway following Texas, and by extension, the other Freelancers.
The newest owner of the package flew up to one of the gunships that joined the fray. The ship continued flying down the road, attempting to lose the Freelancers in a tunnel. Tex’s motorcycle pulled up alongside York and Carolina for a moment, then revved up and sped after the package. The gates of the tunnel began to close, an alarm sounding sharply as they did so.
“Don’t let her get it first,” Carolina growled, climbing to her feet and bracing herself on the frame of the jeep.
“Who cares who gets there first?” York responded, still moving quickly to avoid the cars strewn across the road.
“I do!” she shouted back, refusing to take no for an answer. They drew closer to the tunnel and she climbed on top of the frame. “Bail out,” she ordered.
York was happy to comply. “Bailing!” He hit the ground roughly and rolled to a stop. He stood up and brushed the dirt and debris off his armor. “Man,” he muttered, shaking his head, “I’ve got to stop jumping off things.”
Maine sat up, rubbing his bruised head. His helmet had fallen off some time in his various crashed and tumbles, and lay a few feet away. He poked at the bullet wound in his chest and winced.
“Ouch,” he grumbled. He stood up wearily and refastened his helmet. From the sounds of flames and gunfire around him, he wasn’t too far from Team B. He could reconnect with the other team and maybe help them until Niner got there to extract them.