Dethrone Tyranny

[wainwright]

"Fire in the hole!!" shouted LeBlanc, ducking back round the corner of the corridor, just before the charges ignited. There was a gentle crack, and a soft vibration felt through the sole of the feet.

"Hopkins, Keller, with me!" called Wainwright as he strode down the corridor towards the armoury doors. He pulled two stun grenades out of his belt, throwing one to PFC Keller. "Hopkins, get the manual control to the door. Keller, as soon as the door opens, chuck your grenade in to the left. I'll go right. They'll have a barricade of sorts, no doubt, so get the grenade as close to the back wall as you can. Ready? Ok, on three. One........" Wainwright and Keller took up their positions on either side of the doors.

"Two.........." Wainwright nodded to Hopkins, who readied himself at the manual release to the doors.

"Three!" As Hopkins hit the door release, Wainwright and Keller primed the grenades.

Nothing happened. The door stayed firmly closed.

"****!!" Wainwright stared urgently at Hopkins, who had a slightly panicked look in his eyes. Hopkins shrugged, unable to provide an explaination.

"LeBlanc!" Major LeBlanc hurried up to Wainwright. "Might you have screwed up with those charges?"

"Not a chance, sir!" he answered immediately, while eying the grenades still help by the Admiral and Keller. "See, here and here," he pointed to burn marks on the doors where the charges went off. "Perfect concussion pattern, sir. No way the locking bolts survived the blast. This door's been deliberately jammed."

"Right. Hold this!" Wainwright shoved the primed grenade carefully into LeBlanc's hands. "Bloody cheap Ageira rubbish, I'm afraid Major. Can't do nothing but throw it once it's been primed. Hopkins, with me! Major, Keller, be ready with those bloody grenades!"

He strode down the corridor, stopping about thirty feet from the doors to the armoury, and looked up. A small access hatchway was directly above. He smiled briefly.

"Bloody lucky they still build these in! Hopkins, give me a boost." Placing his foot into Hopkins cupped hands, Wainwright powered up at the hatch, knocking it loose and hauling himself through. Lying flat in the crawl space, he stuck his head back out.

"Hopkins, get the others ready. The doors should open soon, and when they do those grenades had bloody well better go off quickly. My life likely depends on it."

As Hopkins saluted and headed back to the rest of the group, Wainwright eased himself along, as silently as possible. He reached back for his sidearm, and a concussion grenade, then continued his measured progress. At the next hatch panel in the floor of the crawl space he stopped. Angled slats allowed him a view of the doorway. Two junior officers stood on one side of the doors, and the mechanism was jammed, on the other, by a hefty metal panel placed in the running tracks. The grenade he held would certainly shift the metal panel blocking the doors, it was the guns of those already in the room he was worried about.

He lifted the access hatch ever so carefully, and took a deep breath. Now came the risky bit. He primed the grenade, and leaned into the room, throwing the grenade towards the metal panel, and pulling himself back into the access hatch. Shouts of alarm came from the room as they realised what was happening. The grenade bounced once and nestled between the panel and the wall. As the two men by the doors raised their weapons to fire, the grenade exploded, catapulting the panel across the room. The blast from the grenade threw the men by the door off their feet, and the main door cracked open.

Fire in the hole!! came the call, as two stun grenades bounced into the room. Small arms fire was already pounding into the crawl space, the bullets hazardously close to Wainwrights position. He covered his ears and curled as much as he could, trying to wedge himself in. The grenades exploded with vicious efficiency, and Wainwright felt an eardrum tear. His ears ringing, he pulled himself to the hatchway and dropped into the room. The Legionnaires were there already, weapons trained on six soldiers lying prone on the floor. Four were behind a barricade, half of which hard been torn apart by the metal panel that had been blocking the doors. They were groaning. The two that had been by the doors were silent and unmoving.

Hopkins, Fauk, bind these men and guard them. When theyre up and complaining, get them out. Major Kraven, check the two by the door. Kraven crouched by the two prone figures. At the first he felt for a pulse, before nodding briefly. At the second he shook his head. Wainwright pulled out his communicator.

Firesquad one, Firesquad one. This is Firesquad two. We have secured the Armoury. One fatality on their side, sir. Were proceeding to Checkpoint Delta. He paused briefly before continuing. Sir, I've got a bad feeling about this. Theres been too little resistance so far. Theyre planning something, I just know it.

---

All the old knives, that have rusted in my back, I shall drive deep into yours.

Betrayed