Fire at Will [Mech Sci-Fi Military]

UNVEILED

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering in the narrow corridor where Will and Becca waited.

Becca sat on a bench, one leg jittering, foot tapping a constant rhythm against the floor. Will paced, arms crossed, eyes darting toward the steel door at the end of the hallway. Every few seconds, their gazes met—then flicked back to the door.

Even through the room's supposed soundproofing, faint thuds and muffled voices leaked out. They'd been waiting for hours.

Finally, the door creaked open.

Damian stepped out, rolling his sleeves down. He was wiping something off his hands—a dark smear that looked suspiciously red.

Will was on him immediately.

"Do we have the location?"

Damian didn't speak. He just gave a nod and gestured for them to follow.

They moved through a maze of corridors, turning corners until they reached a cramped control room cluttered with monitors, keyboards, and tangles of cables. Each screen displayed different data streams—heatmaps, radio signals, and psionic signatures.

At the center of the chaos was a single analyst darting between terminals, muttering to himself in a stream of curses interspersed with technical jargon.

Will froze as he caught sight of the analyst's scruffy brown hair. Hearing their arrival, the lanky boy turned around, grinning.

"Hey hey hey!" he chimed.

"Remy?" Becca gasped.

"Do you know anyone else this good-looking?"

Will broke into a laugh and pulled the brunet into a crushing hug. A weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying eased off his shoulders.

"Duck duck," Will said amid chuckles.

"Goose! Ow—ow! Easy on the ribs!" Remy yelped.

Will let go and clapped him on the back.

"Don't hit him!" Becca scolded, swatting Will's shoulder. "He's still recovering! Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"

"What? And ruin the surprise?" Remy grinned.

"It's good that you're here," said Will, feeling a lump in his throat. He'd kept Remy out of his mind for the last few days, working nonstop, focused solely on the mission. If he'd lost another one of his family, he didn't think he could've lived with himself. And now, for the first time in days, his feet felt grounded.

Damian cleared his throat, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"The rugrats are united. Now, how about we get back to work?"

Ignoring the unamused looks the trio shot him, Damian pulled up a monitor and tapped the screen.

An underground map zoomed into focus. Will scanned the streets and tunnels that began populating the display, and his eyebrows shot up when he recognized the names.

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"Bunker 37?!" Remy exclaimed.

"Will..." Becca called out in a hushed whisper.

Will stared at the familiar layout, eyes wide. He glanced toward the northeast corner of the map. Sure enough, there was his apartment complex—Little Belgrave. The hidden base was right on his doorstep.

"You've gotta be kidding me..." muttered Will.

"How did we miss this?" Becca asked heatedly.

"Now that's the million-cred question, isn't it?" Damian said, zooming in further to reveal a sprawling compound tucked near the industrial edge of the Undercity.

"I suspect they've been meticulous about the cleanup," Damian continued. "Deliberately obfuscating the signature around the plant."

"But that's still not enough..." Remy muttered.

"Another tunnel?" Becca suggested, but Damian shook his head.

"Don't worry about the how. Information is still coming in. Focus on what's in front of us right now."

Will leaned in close to observe as Damian tapped the screen.

"This is a recycling and fabrication plant owned by Mayland Corp," he said, pointing out the material yard and the crush bay.

"Heavily fortified compared to a typical plant," Damian added, indicating the massive refab complex built into the rocky walls of the Undercity.

"This is going to be a tough nut to crack," Remy said, clicking his tongue. The sudden movement pulled at the bandages wrapped around his chest, and he winced. "Got any info on the layout?"

"No," Damian shook his head. "Good old Jorg figured out where the base was, but he wasn't privy to any details of the plant."

"I'm surprised you got him to talk," said Will, remembering the fierce Captain.

Damian shook his head. "Didn't take much. Jorg knows the Revenant will come for him. They don't tolerate failure."

His voice darkened.

"They don't forgive it either."

Will exchanged a glance with Becca. She looked uneasy.

"What now?" Will asked.

"Surveillance," said Damian.

He tapped the fab plant on the screen. "We'll start by sending a few feelers out. Let's find out what's hiding in that base."

With that, the trio got to work.

The rest of the day was a hectic jumble of events where Will jumped from problem to problem, fixing everything. They had to sort through the information provided by the captain, adjust gear, and fix their mechs, all while filling in Remy with what he had missed.

Will finished repairing his mech somewhere around midnight and fell asleep right in the workshop.

His sleep was fitful. Strange, amorphous shapes floated behind his eyelids, and the baleful howl of a train engine roared somewhere in the background.

Will groaned awake to find his slate buzzing.

"Hello," Will answered groggily.

"You up?" Remy asked excitedly. "We're about to leave for the site."

Will scrambled to his feet and grabbed his jacket hanging off a bench vise. Cursing silently, he buttoned up his shirt and flung the jacket over himself.

"Ten minutes. Near the transport hub," said Remy. "See you there, bud."

Will let out a breath. With one last glance at his repaired mech, he strode out of the workshop.

With three minutes to spare, Will swung into the back of the truck, joining Remy, Becca, and Damian. The doors slammed shut behind him, and the vehicle rumbled to life, tires grinding against the old concrete as it barreled into the depths of the freight tunnels.

The ride to the Undercity's industrial district didn't take long, and soon they were settled in one of the abandoned derelict high-rises.

Will stood at the edge of the ledge, his hair fluttering in the wind. The updraft from the plants below rushed up, tugging at his jacket. Eyes half-lidded, he gazed down at the distant plant and found the hidden base.

It was a squat, ugly thing—built of concrete and steel. Workers in dark uniforms moved about, dragging heavy crates into transport shuttles, while others sealed off entrances and erected barriers.

Will frowned at the activity below.

The comms crackled to life, interrupting his musings.

"Report," said Damian, one hand on his earpiece.

"This is Echo-One. I have eyes on the front entrance."

"Copy that," said Damian. "Stay sharp. We don't want to alert our neighbors just yet."

"Roger that," came the reply, crisp and low.

Will turned back toward the plant. His heart thudded in his chest, a hollow, deep pound that echoed louder the longer he stared. The fortified structure below seemed to radiate something unnatural—a quiet, oppressive weight that pressed against the back of his skull.

Fleeting shadows slid through the edges of his vision. Red eyes blinked in the dark of his memory. Will shuddered.

He clenched his jaw and reached down, gripping his right knee—what was left of it. His metal prosthetic thrummed in a dull rhythm with his heartbeat, every pulse sending a phantom ache deep into the limb.

He tightened his grip over his sharded knee.

"Soon," he muttered.

They were nearly there.