Chapter 86 - Prison Break

<---Chapter 85 - Imminent|Table of Contents|Chapter 87 - Revolution--->

"Is it a hoax?" Damian poured through the duplicate letter in his hand, Keith and Niko gathering around him at the main office in the shopping arcade. "For all we know, this could be a distraction."

"They say here that they are going to blow up everything Seven Snakes affilated - I doubt they have the capacity to do so." Niko scratched his chin after pinning all the written targets on a map laid out on a circular table.

"Not when we're missing weapons from the factory." Keith groaned. "I just heard from Gordon ten entire crates are missing. That's enough to outfit two hundred of them."

"Shit, that's basically a turf war all over again! Why didn't we post guards there?" Niko argued. "I told you we should have tripled the security at the factory. Now that the factory is in shit, Kyle will be pissed when he comes back from the Culdao Peaks."

"We gave our word we'll handle, and we will. No time to groan or whine - let's solve it." Damian mustered up his authority, calling in all the cobras on duty and mobilizing every member. "Get all of them armed and out onto the streets. Priority is the highest performing businesses. I want twenty men on every fucking entrance of all our establishments. Check the prisoners too, make sure none of them are escaping."

Damian did not have the same level of confidence as Kyle, but as the underboss his orders were followed to the letter, the basic training and desentization exercises at the Culdao Peaks kicking into action, arming themselves at the armory. The gang began to move like a well-oiled machine, cobras and their squads reporting in like clockwork.

"Do we even have enough men to cover everything?" Niko asked as he tabulated the assigned squads, clerks in the office yelling commands and orders over arctech radios while organizing supporting groups. "At this rate, we'll be spread way too thinly."

"No, but I'll be damned if I let even a single one of our branches get bombed. It would be a humiliation. At least we should post five men to the smaller ones, that way we can mitigate the damage done-"

"Cancel that order." A familiar voice entered the office suddenly, prompting the three of them to quickly bow in respect.

"Sir, I didn't know you'll be back so soon." Damian muttered while Kyle strode past him with Sasha in tow, along with a dozen veteran soldiers accompanying them from the Culdao Peaks.

"I heard from Adrian. Have all men concentrate on our main establishments, leave the branches undefended."

Damian, Niko and Keith looked at each other uncomfortably, but accepted the order nonetheless, having already established that Kyle's orders were final.

"Damian, Sasha, a word in my office. Niko and Keith, handle it now." Kyle motioned for Sasha and Damian to join him in the private office overlooking the district, the vast expanse of the South Sector extending before them in a never-ending kaleidoscope of street lights.

"Damian, Sasha. It's undeniable. The mole must be one of the vipers." Kyle spoke quickly.

Sasha hardly reacted, but Damian was flabbergasted. "What?! That's impossible - we did a background check on every viper, and Adrian is on the lookout for any suspicious movements. The mole might be one of the newer recruits-"

"Then explain how ten crates of weapons were stolen from us right under our noses. Not just the viper himself - we most likely have multiple turncoats within our ranks." Kyle pulled out a letter from his coat, handing it to Damian. "I have the latest list of confirmed union council members from Adrian. The ringleader is a man named Gunther - who apparently is living right under our very noses in the housing complex under a different name, yet we do not have any documents nor evidence of his stay. Someone among us is helping him."

Damian understood the underlying implications. "Are you still suspecting my brother?"

"Anyone who handles the business and logistical aspect is subject to scrutiny. Gordon, Reese, Keith, Monica. Even Adrian himself. I only trust you two, and I highly suggest you do not trust any other member within the gang, no matter how close you are with them."

"Why do you trust me, but not my brother? He's in charge of the finances, the trade school."

"The reason I trust you, Damian, is because of your ability and loyalty as the underboss thus far to carry out my will, despite how unreasonable my orders might have seem. On the other hand, for the past month, Keith and Niko were clearly against them, with Keith being the most vocal. If I took any of Keith's suggestions, the Seven Snakes may have very well ceased to exist at this point of time. Until proven innocent, I cannot forgo my suspicions."

Damian winced under the weight of the accusations, though he could not deny that Keith had been acting more and more aggressively in recent meetings, especially with regards on how to deal with the growing unrest. "Then what do we do now? How do we smoke them out? What's the plan?"

"The plan has not changed since this whole debacle started. The attack has two goals in mind: the first is to prevent the weapons factory from fulfilling the contract. The second is tarnishing the reputation of the Seven Snakes as weak and riddled with incompetency."

"And I assume you know who is behind all of this."

"Of course. But it is still a theory. It remains to be seen if it is the Ardent Cretins or another gang supporting him from behind the scenes." Kyle twirled a pen in his hand, scrawling a crude layout of the district. "The new group of workers will attempt to bring the factory's production to a halt."

"Yes, by bombing every establishment and ruining our manpower allocations."

"And once they've done that, they'll force us to the negotiating table, asking for money and more autonomy. But this is not their only objective." Kyle jabbed the tip of the pen towards the prison where research subjects and enslaved prisoners were held. "They want to free their brethren and other prisoners as well, to aid in the upcoming strike."

"That's not possible - the prison and alchemy lab is heavily guarded by our men."

"Not when we have a mole among us. Do you understand?" Kyle stared at Damian, who was slightly confused before realization dawned on him.

"I understand."

"Good. Then have all men organized as previously ordered, leave the prison minimally defended. Sasha, you know what to do."

[What about Haui?]

"I'll provide him the necessary information so he remains in one piece. He'll know you're coming. Get to work."

Sasha nodded, leaving immediately with her veteran soldiers in tow, while Damian began helming the operations, organizing defensive squads all along the important streets. Kyle watched from his office as his men began to fan out across the district, his plan already coming into effect. He glanced at the list of top union members, memorizing their names and portraits to the best of his ability, along with a copy of their pamphlet and manifesto.

Kyle scoffed as he read their list of proposed demands. When one has a hundred years of experience running a criminal organization, union-busting is part and parcel of the job.

As dozens upon dozens of Seven Snakes guards poured out into the district, the residents were equally frightened and they scampered for safety, wondering if another war was on the verge of breaking out. Some of the more tenacious ones had nothing to fear, instead drinking their worries away in pubs and watering holes hidden away from the numerous patrols.

"What's going on, what's happening?" A kid asked as his mother hurriedly carried him into the house, her skirt trailing behind in the smog that drifted through the dark cobblestone streets. "What are those men doing?"

"Keep your head down, dear, it's none of our business, and we'll do well to stay clear." The mother peeked back, watching five Seven Snakes guards armed to the teeth, their metallic Aspis MK1 armour glinting dangerously under the arctech signs that flickered. Their boots clanked against the rough stone as they prowled the streets, searching for union workers or anyone who fit the bill.

"Fucking Versian rats, can't even keep a job, always asking for this and that." One of the Seven Snakes cobra grunted as he checked an alleyway with his squad members. "Damn factory slaves should just keep their heads down, useless cunts. If they want a better wage, they should've joined the Seven Snakes."

"Damn right, sir." His squad members echoed in acknowledgement, scouring every nook and cranny through the darkest recess of the districts to flush out anyone hiding. The squads entered the slums, noticing many bodies lounging lifelessly against the side of the nearest support, be it a trash pile or a mouldy crate, their eyes staring into vacant space as they laughed to themselves like lunatics. Some of them were clearly factory workers, still wearing their uniform as they rolled about, chasing dreams and frantically flailing in a pool of bile and residual acid from nearby production.

One of the squad members picked up a small flask, a little rainbow-ish green tinge lingering at the bottom of it. "Shit, is this the new drug we've been selling?"

"Effective, no? Making a lot of money with this one. Heard Alex and his team were making a killing distributing this two days ago. One of the kids was off his rockers, testing it." The cobra laughed as he grabbed the chin of a clearly drugged slum dweller, checking the pupils which were dilated far beyond its normal size.

"Must be having a good time, I wish I was having a good time." A squad member remarked as he aimed his rifle around at the various other dwellers, many of whom were intoxicated. Even kids were lying face up, chuckling at nothing and at each other, the grin on their faces unnatural.

"Better not try this drug, I heard its fifteen times more addictive than the regular doped potions." The cobra warned.

"Well, once this potion spreads wide enough, the union will kill itself in no time. The workers would be-" Instead of completing the sentence, the whizzing sound of a pellet shot past the cobra, cutting off his words. A gurgling sound could be heard, the cobra turning to see the squad member's lower left jaw completely blown off, hanging by a strand of flesh as blood poured out from what remained of his face.

As the squad member collapsed to the ground, a withering barrage peltered them from all directions, their armour taking a beating. "AMBUSH, GET DOWN!" The cobra roared, a pellet nearly taking his head off, deflecting off his helmet at an angle and ricocheting towards the same drugged dweller, the pellet ripping into his lungs and searing flesh through the friction. The dweller's insane smile still held on his face, even as he bled to death with the firefight raging all around him.

"Cobra Bosso reporting, we're being ambushed at Brickworks, near the Lusty Arcian! We need help, now!" Bosso roared into his radio as he crawled through the dirt and grime that coated the slum, firing back randomly at the source of the barrage.

"Where the fuck are they, I can't see them!"

"Over there, in the rooms above, the balconies!"

"MY ARM! MY ARM!"

"Grr, NIKO YOU FUCKING TWAT, YOU BETTER BE HALFWAY HERE NOW!" Bosso hollered at the top of his lungs into the radio, aiming the iron sights on the tip of his rifle at the balcony, spotting a mere shadow aiming right back at him.

With fast reflexes, he fired first, the shot blasting right through the union fighter's rifle, causing it to explode brilliantly. The burst of light illuminated the temporary battlefield, revealing the rest of the union fighters, who were hiding amdist the rotten tents made out of disposed clothes, armed with the very same weapons that the Seven Snakes had.

The armor set began to shoot forth green arcia bolts, but it was hardly enough to deal with the sheer amount of pellets whizzing past the alleyway. The point defense arcia engraving was exhausted as soon as the battle began, offering only a brief respite in the opening salvos.

"Fucking shit!" Bosso ducked his heat as suppressing fire went right over him, blanketing the alleyway, his squad breaking up and taking cover wherever they could. Bosso clambered his way behind a pile of decaying corpses, long dead from disability and malnutrition. The pellets thud dully against the cover of flesh and bone, while he gripped the holster of his rifle, checking his fuel belt.

"COME ON, YA PUNKS, GET SOME!" He bellowed, lifting the rifle above his cover and holding down the trigger, the fuel pipe gurgling with intensity as the repeater unleashed dozens of shots in rapid successions, nailing everything in its path. Painful screams erupted from the fire, five union fighters falling to the continuous firing, Bosso squeezing even harder only to find that the rifle was not reacting any longer, the barrel overheating from the sheer friction of the rapidfire.

Bosso watched helplessly as another of his squad members was nailed ten times in the chest, the breastplate's ceramic honeycomb shattering apart while his body tumbling to the ground. Before the union fighters could began to surround them, a sudden hailstorm blasted them apart from their flank, ripping their ranks into shreds as they cowered.

"Bosso! Whatchu doing hiding there like a rat!" Niko grinned as he burst into the battle, cornering the union fighter from behind with his own squad, pinning down the enemy with suppressive fire.

"Shut up and keep firing until they are all dead!"

All around the district, firefights just like this were breaking out, unfortunate bystanders and residents caught in the crossfire between the associates and the union workers, duking it out for each establishment affilated with the Seven Snakes.

Before long, a resounding explosion was heard before its brilliant light lit up the dark cloudy night sky, an entire building blown apart to pieces, marking the destruction of a Seductive Serpent branch pub and its unlucky inhabitants. As the battle raged on through the night, a team of thirty union fighters snuck their way through the patrols, aiming for something else.

"They are fully distracted now - we should save our brethren. To the prison!" The leader of the union strike force urged, rushing through the backlanes with rifles and arcite explosives. They moved towards an ugly concrete building, the sign of the Alchemist Guild hanging lifelessly. "We know the plan, scour the entire building for the cells. Kill anything that ain't us!"

The union strike force scouted the building, noticing it was lightly defended with a few patrols. Soon, they all suddenly received a notification of sorts on their radio, immediately moving to reinforce the other firefights breaking out all across the city. "Comrade Bronco, something is strange. Look over there! Where are they going?" One of the union fighters scratched his head in confusion as he motioned for the leader to come over.

Instead, he earned a smack to the back of his loosely worn helmet from Bronco. "Idiot, our insider is distracting them for us, quick, get in!" Bronco led the strike force group by group, slowly making their way over to the unguarded entrance. "You two, circle around the back and check for traps or any ambush."

"Yes, Comrade Bronco."

The rest of the strike force swarmed into the building, carefully checking each corner of every hallway, scanning the dilapidated abandoned office rooms before reaching the entrance of the alchemy lab. They formed up against the door, preparing to breach as they could hear movement beyond the doors. While they had the guts, most of them had hardly used a rifle in their lives, some of their hands trembling violently as they gripped the holster. Still, Bronco had no choice but to push forward in the interest of time. "Count of three, rifle blazing. Three, two, one!"

The leader burst into the lab, only to be met with a completely empty lab, the flasks and contraptions all devoid of fluid nor materials, as though they had already evacuated beforehand. "Shit, they knew! It's a trap! Check behind us!"

Yet no ambush came, nothing moved in the deadly silent lab, the strike force on their toes as they fanned out into the empty lab glanced around at each other, even checking back down the hallway through which they came. "Brother, I don't see anything moving!"

"Huh?" The leader was confused, unable to wrap his head around what was happening. Are they just letting us free them that easily?

"Comrade, the prisoners, over there!" One of them pointed to the row of solitary cells, where more than two dozen were shivering and cowering on their beds. The leader shook out of his stupor, immediately ordering his comrades to free them.

"Don't hurt me, I'll do anything, just let me go, please! I'll take the drug, I'll take it!" The panic was clear in the prisoners' eyes as they struggled, even when the union fighters unlocked their cell grills through brute force.

"We're here to break you out, idiot. Now quit yapping and giving our position away or I'll have to gag you myself." Bronco warned, before stuffing a small handkerchief into the prisoner's mouth before the prisoner could reply.

The union strike team was at a loss for words as they rescued the prisoners one by one, noticing the horrifying experiments that was performed here. "Oh, Goddess Nona, what have they done to you?" One of the union fighters knelt down to an obviously convulsing prisoner, who clutched his arm violently with both hands.

The prisoner's skin hung loosely from his bones, as though he had been malnourished for decades, his gaunt cheeks visible to all as he stared right into the fighters' eyes. "More, I need more, please!"

"More of what?"

"Stop wasting time, we need to get them out of here before the Seven Snakes guards come back!" Bronco hastened them, getting them to move out. "How many prisoners are there here?"

"Only two dozen, there should be more elsewhere." A union fighter replied. "Maybe there's another prison we don't know about."

"No, our insider guaranteed that this was the only prison the Seven Snakes currently have."

"The others are downstairs, other workers who have been imprisoned!" One of the rescued prisoners yelled. "There are hundreds of them!"

"Good, we're going to get them out. Anyone that can fight, take a weapon, now!" Bronco armed the prisoners who were still capable of moving, while leaving a squad to protect the unconscious and immobilized ones.

As they navigated the building, they soon found the basement that had been half-converted into a dungeon, though it was far more clean and sterile than the usual prison, as if it were a research facility.

A single hallway that extended into the distance, with each cell holding more than twenty of their union workers, other thugs and petty criminals who had been captured by the Seven Snakes over the last three months, many languishing away in torment with them sharing a single shit bucket, the stench overwhelming. Large exhaust vents dotted the walls, helping to circulate fresh air from the surface through giant fans.

"HELP US, SAVE US!" One of the prisoners screamed, clutching at the grills that imprisoned them.

"We're on it. Comrades, break down the doors!"

The union fighters slammed and shot off the hinges, freeing them by the dozens as they all scampered and screamed for joy. "The other cells, deeper in! You three, hold the exit until we've freed all of them." The leader ordered, leading the charge as the small strike force built into a hungry mob, desiring revenge.

Before long, all of the prisoners were freed, many hugging each other and crying tears of joy, freed from the slave labour and human experimentation they had been subjected to. "To the exit, quickly!"

"Not so fast, my friends." A unknown voice echoed down the single hallway, the voice garbled through a filter. "I can't have my precious research subjects leave that easily. Not without a parting gift. A field test needs to be properly prepared for, after all."

Bronco turned to see a lab coat alchemist at the end of the hallway, wearing what seemed to be a plague masks, the glasses flickering under the sterile white arctech light.

"Alchemist Haui, you little fucker, shoot him!" Bronco and the union fighters held no hesitation, immediately aiming at Haui only for a sudden blur slashing through them like a whirlwind. He could only see the facade of a woman, twirling a glittering falchion that sliced through the barrels of the rifles like butter, dismantling them in just a few seconds. Leaping back away from the throng of prisoners, the woman stared at them while flicking the blood of her blade, a small grin on her face.

"My hand, she cut my hand off!" A union worker yelled in pain as he doubled over, many of the fighters now realizing their right hand had been sliced off through the flesh and bone, the interior exposed to the elements while the sliced rifles fell helplessly to the ground, broken in half.

"She's just one girl, beat her up and the Alchemist!" Bronco roared over the wails of the maimed fighters, leading the charge with the prisoners following in tow.

Haui tossed Sasha another gas mask, her putting it on calmly as she watched the throng of prisoners and union workers rush at her. <Shue, Yul, Uryag, Nemoon> Sasha spoke in with a silky voice, the falchion in her right hand glowing brilliantly, the large Dzi Flower Sand jewels embedded in it surging with energy that travelled up her veins.

Before the first prisoner could reach Sasha, the exhaust vents suddenly slammed shut, the panes all locked tightly, before a sickening blue smoke began to erupt in copious amounts, blasting them from all angles. Haui chuckled under the mask as he watched the prisoners and union workers began to choke on the fumes entering their lungs.

"It's a trap! This.. this is Euria smoke!" Bronco gagged as he took yet another involuntary breath. He glanced upwards, peering through the dense blue smoke only to see the bright blade of the falchion shining through the fog menacingly. He watched in horror as with every swing and slash, another man lost his hand, the piercing shrieks of pain echoing through the narrow tight hallway. "Retreat, retreat!"

The originally united throng began to panic, scrambling for the only exit behind as Sasha cut down hand after hand. A union fighter bravely drew a spare handgun against her, only for his hand to be sliced cleanly through the muscles, flesh and bone, the nerves exposed to the stinging Euria fumes as he fell backwards.

"Better start running, if you stay here, you'll lose more than just a hand." Haui called out from behind while Sasha hunted each one of them brave enough to fight back. Those who made it out of the basement found themselves flanked on all sides by Sasha's veteran soldiers, who had them encircled on all ends save for a few gaps.

"Don't fight them, just run, get out!" The leader ordered, panic clear in his voice as they scampered out of the office building, fleeing in every direction where the soldiers were not. Nearly all of them were maimed in someway or another, having lost a hand, or being shot in the thighs or losing their feet, hoisted to safety by their comrades.

The survivors ran as fast as they could, only regrouping half an hour later at a pre-planned location. "How many did we lose in there?" Bronco coughed out blue smoke as he started counting heads, his face growing in slight disbelief at the sheer number of prisoners and union fighters who made it out. There were now nearly three hundred total gathered here. "No one? We didn't lose a single person? How can that be? I..."

"It's a success, comrade!" One of the fighters cheered. "The prisoners have been freed!" The rest joined in the cheering, celebrating prematurely with shouts of joy and victory. However, Bronco was far from convinced it was a successful operation.

They could have killed or captured all of us in there, but yet they let us go. But why?

<---Chapter 85 - Imminent|Table of Contents|Chapter 87 - Revolution--->