Chapter 16: Escort Mission Ambush
The A.R.G.U.S. briefing room was a sterile fortress, its gray walls soaking up the dim fluorescent light, the air thick with the sharp bite of antiseptic and the musty undertone of old files stacked in the corner. Jax Reed leaned against a cold metal table, his tactical jacket unzipped to reveal a worn black t-shirt, its fabric soft from too many washes. His fingers traced the edge of a high-danger route schematic, the paper crinkling under his touch, while his knife, tucked in his belt, pressed reassuringly against his hip. He resisted the urge to twirl it, though his fingers twitched, betraying his restless energy. The room hummed with strategic focus, the team's tension a living thing, coiling in the silence.
Emilia Harcourt stood at the table's head, her blonde hair pulled into a severe bun, a cigarette tucked behind her ear—a rare nod to the no-smoking sign. Her voice was a blade of cynicism, cutting through the room. "A.R.G.U.S. Asset 23—unnamed scientist with key Butterfly tech knowledge—moves from Safehouse Delta to HQ. High-value target. Our route is compromised, likely tailed." She jabbed a red danger indicator on the map, her finger leaving a faint smudge. "No screw-ups. I'm commanding the escort. Peacemaker takes point. Reed, you're the wildcard, flank position."
The scientist, a wiry figure in a rumpled lab coat, hunched in the corner, their glasses slipping as they clutched a sleek briefcase, its edges gleaming faintly. Their nervous energy clashed with the team's controlled intensity, their fingers drumming a frantic beat. "The tech's unstable, please, we need to move quickly! We're not safe here!" they stammered, their voice high and technical, trembling with urgency.
Leota Adebayo, seated beside Jax, frowned at the schematic, her glasses catching the map's red glow. "Harcourt, this area—it's high density. If we get hit, collateral damage is… too high. Should we not try the underground route? Think this through, people." Her lip-biting hesitation underscored her moral anchor, her voice steady but laced with concern.
Harcourt's glare was ice, her foot tapping sharply on the linoleum. "The underground is a predictable kill-box. We use speed. Adebayo, you stick to the asset. Your only mission is to protect them."
Jax's hazel eyes flicked to the map, his thrill-seeker pulse spiking. "Gotham gloom matches my mood, but this is a gauntlet," he thought, his fingers brushing the system's interface in his mind, the Cumulate's warmth pulsing like a second heartbeat. He adjusted his jacket, the zipper's rasp a grounding ritual.
[SYSTEM: QUEST ALERT.]
[ESCORT A.R.G.U.S. ASSET 23 TO HQ.]
[CUMULATE SUMMONS: 2.]
[OBJECTIVE: ENSURE ASSET SAFETY.]
The urban market district was a chaotic sprawl of vendor stalls and blaring horns, the midday sun casting stark shadows on cracked pavement. The two unmarked SUVs moved in tight formation, their engines growling beneath the city's din. Jax rode in the second vehicle, his binoculars pressed to his face, the plastic warm against his skin. The air was heavy with exhaust and the sharp tang of sizzling street food, but a crash of breaking glass shattered the rhythm. The ambush hit like a storm, the air erupting with gunpowder's acrid burn and the screech of burning rubber.
Six Enhanced Goons—Remnants juiced with Compound V—unleashed a barrage from rooftops and street level, their gunfire a deafening roar. Jax's SUV lurched as a projectile grazed its side, metal screaming. "Blood's red paint, and we're the canvas," he thought, his heart hammering.
Harcourt's voice crackled through the comms, raw with fury. "They're enhanced! This isn't a scout team, it's a kill squad!"
Jax gripped the leather seat, its texture grounding him, and tapped the system. "Hold the line, I'm going multi-summon!" he shouted, focusing on one command: Defend.
[SYSTEM: MAX CUMULATE DEPLOYED.]
[DANGER LEVEL: HIGH.]
[SUMMON PROTOCOL: MULTI-SUMMON (3 MAX).]
[TARGET COMMAND: DEFEND (PROTECT ASSET & VEHICLES).]
Three flashes tore through the alley: a blue-white blur (A-Train), a silent shadow (Kimiko), and a towering figure of raw power (Queen Maeve). The air crackled with ozone and energy. A-Train, in his sleek speedsuit, shouted, "Speed's my game, losers!" but tripped over a crate, his face-plant scattering oranges in a chaotic burst of humor. He recovered, drawing fire from the right flank.
Kimiko moved like a phantom, dismantling goons with brutal precision, her jacket stained with dust and blood. Maeve, however, bristled with defiance. "I'm not your pawn!" she roared, her fists clenched. She followed the Defend command but with reckless force, tackling a goon through the second SUV's side, metal crumpling. The vehicle tipped, nearly crushing Adebayo and the scientist, who screamed, clutching the briefcase.
Harcourt's voice was a snarl. "Reed! Control your damn backup! Amateurs ruin everything!"
Jax fired his pistol, hands shaking from the strain of three summons. "She's defending! Aggressively!" "Maeve's gonna cost me," he thought, ducking bullets. The fight raged for five minutes, the summons vanishing as the last goon fell.
[SYSTEM: SUMMON USED: A-TRAIN, KIMIKO, MAEVE.]
[AGILITY +1 (ECHO OF A-TRAIN'S SPEED).]
[+30 SP ACQUIRED (HIGH DANGER VICTORY).]
[CURRENT STATS: STRENGTH 5, AGILITY 4, CONSTITUTION 2, WILLPOWER 3.]
[CURRENT SP: 205.]
[SUMMON COUNT: 9.]
The motel room was a grim haven, its threadbare carpet and peeling wallpaper reeking of disinfectant and stale smoke. The team sprawled across mismatched furniture, the air heavy with relieved unity. Jax sat on a lumpy bed, peeling dried blood from a cut on his arm, the sting grounding him. He popped a chip from a crumpled bag, the salt a fleeting comfort, and adjusted his stiff jacket.
Peacemaker, his helmet dented, muttered about cleaning A-Train's face-plant residue, his fingers brushing the damage. "Man, that speedster's ego took a bigger hit than my gear."
Harcourt, nursing a bruise on her shin, leaned against the wall. Jax pointed, smirking. "Ooh, that's a good one. You should name it. 'The Queen Maeve Did My Job For Me' bruise."
Harcourt's lips twitched. "I'll take a bruise over a broken neck. Your backup is… efficient, but you might want to stop summoning people who hate the concept of being backup."
Adebayo, sipping water, her glasses fogged, nodded. "That was terrifying. But you handled the rogue risk, Jax. You were fast."
Peacemaker reenacted A-Train's fall, arms flailing, earning a tired laugh. Jax admitted Maeve's stunt scared him more than the goons. "Someone knew our route," he thought, eyeing Harcourt. "We're alive. That's the main thing. But an ambush that coordinated, in a high-traffic area, means someone's tailing us. Someone knew the route." He leaned forward, the chip bag crinkling. "We all carry baggage, and it's getting heavy. We need to talk about it."
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE RESETS.]
[+5 SP ACQUIRED (POST-MISSION SURVIVAL BONUS).]
[CURRENT SP: 210.]
The baggage talk lingered, pulling the team toward deeper trust as they prepped for the next move, the ambush's coordination a gnawing mystery.
[SYSTEM: RANDOM FLAVOR: TAILING AMBUSH LINK DETECTED.]
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