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Chapter 0, Part I
📅 MARCH 24, 2023 - 12:30 AM PST
📍 Great Basin Desert, Nevada, United States
“Goddammit woman, we’ve been over this a hundred times already!”
“All it takes is one mistake and we’re dead. Just humor me.”
“Ok, fine.”
“First we go upstairs. We enter the mechanical room just before the mess hall and from there we can slip out. Taking the third access corridor should give us roof access. From there, we go down the fire escape and go a mile down the river bank to the loading bay. Logistics should still be processing that giant shipment that came in a few hours ago. I doubt anyone’s working on that at this time, so we can use that to our advantage. Finally, from loading bay B3 we can take the catwalk to the hangar.”
“Sounds good.”
“We’ll have a 2-minute window to make it to that mechanical room. And what are you doing??”
“Just in case.”
“You really think a gun is going to solve anything? If they catch us, it’s over. There’s no way we’re surviving a firefight. A gun’s dead weight. We have no choice but to try to slip out unnoticed.”
“Your loss. You’re gonna thank me later.”
“Whatever. You sure you wanna do this? There’s no going back, you know.”
“This place feels like a coffin. I’m leaving even if it kills me.”
“As if death has ever fazed you.”
Her hand carefully grasped the door handle and twisted, gently opening the door as silently as she could. If anything, the thunderous pounding of her heart was more likely to attract someone’s attention. She took a deep breath and looked down both ends of the empty hallway.
“Clear. Let’s go.”
The two girls slipped out of their private quarters and made their way down the hallway flooded with bright fluorescent light. Quietly traversing a linoleum floor was a task easier said than done, but by walking toe-to-heel, they made it up the staircase unnoticed. The straps of their backpacks bit into their skin as they ascended the stairs, pulled as tightly as possible to prevent them from making any noise. Peeking over the topmost flight of stairs revealed that the second floor was just as devoid of movement as the first.
“Is the mechanical room there?”
“Yeah, no shit it is. What, can a door grow legs and walk away?”
A lock of auburn hair fell loose as she peeked around the corner, looking down both ends of the intersecting hallway. She tucked it behind her ears and motioned to the other girl.
“Let’s go.”
They moved in unison, the cadence of their whisper-quiet footsteps in near perfect sync. Producing a ring of keys from inside her tank top, the only location where they wouldn’t jingle loudly, the door unlocked with complacence and they quickly entered the mechanical room.
The incessant clatter and drone of HVAC systems and the buzzing of lights filled their ears and the smell of mothballs assaulted their noses, but all they could focus on was finding a way out. Dull yellow lights flickered intermittently down the stuffy hallway, lights that cast a matte sheen off the other girl’s dark hair with accents of violet as they traversed the third access corridor.
“If that map was correct, this should take us to the roof.”
The redhead leaned into the door to influence it into a position more favorable for passing through, but her leverage was only sufficient to motivate it a few degrees at best before slamming shut. A breeze of chilly wind that slipped through the crack hinted as to why that might’ve been the case. Taking a step back, she pushed the door open with greater force and they stepped outside, the wind blowing the door shut behind them. Their hair waved and danced in the cold gusts of the moonlight that howled gently.
“Shit! Who would’ve thought it could get this cold at night here?”
“Well, we are in a desert.”
“There’s some vehicles on patrol. Think we can slip by?”
“Odd. There’s usually only three or so trucks at any given moment on the airfield. We should still be able to make it though unnoticed if we hug the walls. Stay in shadows whenever possible. Once we make it to that guard tower at 10-o’-clock, we can use the riverbank to get to the hangar.”
“Walking, walking, and more walking. Got it.”
“Got any better ideas?”
“Let’s just get this over with.”
The loud clatter of rusted metal fixtures beneath their feet didn’t seem to bother them as they carefully descended the fire escape hugging the side of their barracks, the closest semblance to something they could remotely call “home” for the past 1 and a half or so years. Home was more than just a place for the two girls. It was a loose blurry series of recollections spent burning alive under the ruthless Nevadan sun, feeling like the ground was about to give way under their feet after 8-hour sorties, and perpetually growing accustomed to new faces and voices that never seemed to stick around for more than a few months at a time. They were abandoning not just a physical space but a greater space beyond description that had shaped their lives for their last few years - memories. Memories that defined them in ways they preferred not to and memories that recollected sights, sounds, and rotten smells best left forgotten.
When their feet touched the solid ground of pavement, they walked briskly through the compound, staying close to the chain link fence that defined its perimeter, reducing their time spent exposed in the glittering moonlight as much as possible. Security trucks that rolled by were seen and heard long before they posed any immediate threat, and by quickly ducking behind the local flora such as a dumpster or forklift they were able to evade any patrolling security with ease.
Upon reaching the checkpoint at the guard tower, the two girls ducked behind a concrete barrier. A crew cab Seikatsu 10K with a M2HB mounted in the bed pulled up behind the gate on the outside and came to a halt, gravel crunching loudly under its all-terrain tires.
“Shit! Did they see us?” The redhead instinctively reached for the sidearm resting in her thigh holster. Her hastiness, however, was met with disapproval from the more cautious of the two girls. A hand on her shoulder and a stern look was all she needed to get the message.
Over the distant clatter of the diesel engine, they heard the driver of the truck walk towards the guard tower. The redhead peeked around the corner of the barrier and saw him waving to another figure climbing down the ladder of the tower. Both of them had rifles slung across their backs clad in what looked like “chocolate chip” Desert Storm-era BDUs with the unmistakable blobs of brown against a tan canvas. “Sup dude.”
“Bro, it’s chilly as hell tonight!” The guard jumped off the last few rungs of the ladder, his fist meeting that of the driver’s.
Both girls, apparently sharing the same braincell, rolled their eyes in unison. Boys will be boys, the redhead scoffed to herself.
“Tell me about it. Dude, Kyle had to take a shit in a bush and a snake literally bit him in the ass!”
“Holy shit! Was it poisonous?”
“Nah. You should’ve seen the look on his face. He didn’t even wipe or anything, he just ran over screaming like a little bitch. HAH! I hightailed it back here and called for backup, told them I had to cut the patrol short.”
“Jesus, didn’t think there’d be any snakes at this time.”
“Anyways, I’m gonna take him to the infirmary. I’ll talk to you later.” The truck driver mounted his trusty steed glimmering like white snow in the Nevadan moonlight. Through the heavily-tinted windshield, the girls could catch a faint glimpse of his comrade in the back seat, writhing in a great agony that went beyond description.
“Hold up, I’m coming with.” The guard ran around to the other side of the Seikatsu and hopped inside riding shotgun. “Matt was supposed to take my shift a half hour ago but that asshole’s nowhere to be found.”
“You’re just gonna leave the gate unattended like that?”
“Oh, please. We’re gone for 3 minutes at most. Besides, nothing ever happens at this time of the day. Not like anyone’s gonna slip in or out while we’re gone.”
“Surely.”
The doors slammed shut and the gate was pulled open with the hum of an electric motor. The two girls watched in silence as the headlights grew brighter and the truck flew by in a blur, but not before the right passenger window rolled down to let out the pleasant noise of the guard’s dry heaving. “It smells like SHIT in here!” he choked. Before they knew it, the truck had disappeared into the distance, leaving behind the faint smell of diesel fumes and a much more pungent smell that was immediately recognized.
“Aw, shit! God, he wasn’t lying, was he?” The redhead cringed and plugged her nose. “Let’s get moving!”
The two girls very quickly left the scene, managing to sneak through the closing gate and slipped into the pitch black of the barren midnight desert.
The riverbank could hardly be called that, having been reduced to little more than a bank of soft sand and dried bushes a few meters wide that snaked around the entire compound and went further south for a few miles. Water did flow through it on a seasonal basis, but being in some Nevadan desert in the middle of nowhere, that basis felt more like once every passing of Halley’s comet. The girls hobbled clumsily through the extremely fine grains that lined the dried-out riverbed which almost perfectly concealed the sounds of their footsteps albeit at a reduced pace.
15 minutes later, they reached a vantage point on top of a small hill overlooking the entire main airfield and staging area, a detachment of the base located on the opposite side of the dried-out river and a mile down. Peeking over the crest, the dark-haired girl took a pair of binoculars out of her backpack and scanned the area for any signs of substantial activity that couldn’t be easily avoided. Massive fuel silos, hangars, and warehouses painted in the ambient colors of the landscape towered over the acres of asphalt dedicated to the runway. Various aircraft ranging from helicopters to transport planes and even 4th-generation fighter jets could be seen in varying states of combat readiness, with some under tarps and some with a full combat loadout.
“You know, looking at it from this angle really makes it seem like there’s an entire army here,” the redhead commented.
“Wouldn’t surprise me at all. This is Shachou we’re talking about.”
“How’s it looking?”
“Same as before. Shouldn’t be hard to get in, but getting to loading bay B3 will be difficult.”
“Do you really think they’d question two pilots going up to one of the hangars unattended?” The redhead idly racked the slide of her handgun, revealing the brass-cased cartridge in its chamber. “For all they know, we could have a legitimate reason to be there.”
“I’m not taking any chances.” Her response was unwavering as it was cold. Everything went exactly according to her plan, meticulously calculated and revised to yield the lowest amount of risk possible.
“You know, you should be thankful that I decided to go through with your plan. I’m amazed we haven’t been shot dead yet.”
“And what would’ve you preferred?” The dark-haired girl fired back without hesitation. “Go in guns blazing?”
Her snarky comment was met with a dismissive “tch.”
Once the coast was evaluated to be sufficiently clear, the girls were once again on the move. The sagebrush danced in the cool midnight breeze, effectively obscuring their movement down the hill as they approached the airfield. Compared to the installation’s northern site they had just left, the southern site was far larger mainly by virtue of the airfield and was much more protected. Two layers of chain-link fence topped with razor wire formed a boundary that was nigh impenetrable for the two girls alone. They stopped a hundred meters short of a bridge leading to one of the main entryways, flanked on either side by a pair of spotlights shining down the road. A cursory glance through binoculars revealed more armed guards loitering around a campfire beside the gate.
“This… was unforeseen.”
“Don’t tell me you were thinking about walking right in?” scoffed the redhead.
“Of course not. It’s just… unusual. Security seems unusually light today.”
“It’s like they want us to just walk out or something.”
“Exactly.” Though apparently unfazed at this development, there was still a discernible sense of uneasiness in the dark-haired girl’s voice that the redhead picked up on. “I’m not liking this one bit.”
The girls continued with their plan. Under the bridge was a storm drain protruding from the embankment under the bridge. They had scouted it out weeks earlier during a training run, having deduced that it was likely their only option if they wanted to reach loading bay B3 without a confrontation that would most likely end up in their deaths. Three pieces of rebar obstructed the already-cramped opening, forcing them to shove their backpacks through separately and painfully wedge their bodies between the rebar in a sideways prone position.
The single flashlight the girls brought was hardly sufficient to navigate the echoey depths of the storm drain. After a few minutes of clawing around in the dark interrupted by the occasional ow! or shit! when one stepped on the other’s feet, they reached a break in the tunnel with a ladder off to the side leading up to a manhole cover. Climbing up the ladder, which was little more than a few bent pieces of rebar shoved into the concrete wall, the girls quickly ran into a problem that hadn’t been accounted for in their planning.
“Damn it! This piece of shit won’t budge!” The redhead cursed under labored breaths that echoed through the tunnel as she stood on one of the ladder’s rungs and pushed upwards with her back. Alas, the coffee table-sized wedge of solid iron did not raise even an inch. “It’s gotta be at least a hundred kilos!”
“Can’t you squat that?”
“Not in this awkward-ass position! Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna help me, you little shit?”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Climbing up the ladder, both girls maneuvered into position while awkwardly balancing on one foot, forced to share what limited real estate they had on the ladder’s rungs. They braced themselves against the wall and mentally prepared themselves for an action that would most likely destroy their backs for months to come, assuming they weren’t already dead by then. Alas, this inevitability was made apparent when the redhead initiated the countdown.
“One, two, three!”
Pushing upwards with their backs, knees shaking and thighs searing with a burning pain, the girls finally managed to barely lift the manhole cover off the ground just enough for them to jam the flashlight through the opening. After peeking through to scan for any movement, they managed to roll the cover halfway out of the way before it crushed the flashlight that had so conveniently acted as a pivot. A certain ginger fit through the opening just fine, though the process wasn’t as streamlined for her partner.
“What’s taking you so damn long, woman?” she sharply whispered, head on a pivot as she scanned the suffocatingly narrow pitch-black corridors of the hallway they’d climbed into.
“My boobs-! Can you move it out of the way a bit more?” Looking down, she saw that her darker-haired associate had only managed to wedge her head and shoulders out of the narrow opening, one that was apparently narrow enough to stop the marginally more well-endowed of the two girls from passing through.
“Ugh, fine, I get it! God, girl, you don’t have to rub it in my face!” Bending down and squatting over the manhole cover, it was far easier for the redhead to lift it out of the way than trying to push it out of its hole from underneath.
“I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Little shit…”
Yet another few minutes of haphazardly pawing their way through their pitch black surroundings commenced, though this time it didn’t take them long to make their way to loading bay B3. Little more than a warehouse-sized detachment sectioned off from a far larger facility, the ground floor was packed full of pallets and crates laid out in a tight grid pattern. A catwalk was suspended from the ceiling and snaked around all four walls, eventually leading outside to the rest of the facility. The loading bay was vacant as predicted, allowing them to pass through and take the stairs to the catwalk.
The “hangar” was utterly biblical in proportion, its interior space sufficient enough to house an aircraft carrier or two with room to spare. Unfinished fuselages and chassis elements in varying states of intactness were scattered about the floor in a structured yet disorderly chaos, interspersed with heavy-duty construction equipment and scaffolding laid out in a labyrinthine fashion. Most of the equipment congregated around a series of 16 elevated platforms spaced evenly in a grid, each one containing some covered monolithic structure that towered over everything else. Even with the girls walking at a brisk pace, the space encompassed by the hangar was so grand that these distant objects seemed almost fixed in place like a faraway mountain range persisting in the scope of one’s vision when traversing great tracts of land.
They approached the platform closest to them, its ‘payload’ reaching and surpassing the catwalk they stood on 4 stories above ground level. Even when obscured, the silhouette formed by its ailerons and massive engines bulging against the thick canvas tarp pulled over its athletic profile and sharp yet sleek surfaces was unmistakable. The redhead pulled a flap of the cover loose to expose one of the surfaces, unsettling a thick blanket of dust. It was finished in a dull red paint pockmarked with dents, gouges, and scratches exposing the bare metal underneath. The words “ZIEGLER AEROSPACE AND DEFENSE” were emblazoned on it with an accompanying logo. Adjacent to it was the infamous logo of a black rabbit with an eyepatch.
“God, these are all ancient pieces of shit!” The redhead flung the cover back with violence, groaning in frustration. “Do we even have a single one-seater?”
“Not at this base, no. And she didn’t seem keen on bringing any new ones over here anytime soon.”
“She’s even said this is her best squadron, too! If she likes us so much, why do we still roll around in these shitty hand-me-downs?”
“Sink or swim… that’s Shachou for you.”
“Where’s our’s again?”
“C2.”
The catwalks were laid out in a similar grid pattern surrounding the platforms from above. Nearing their destination, platform C2, it was immediately apparent that something was wrong. They referenced the hand-drawn map they haphazardly scribbled onto a napkin and backtracked their steps multiple times, double and triple-checking the orientation of their map. Every attempt would lead them back to the same platform, theirs - there was no mistake about it.
Unlike the other platforms, this one was completely empty.
As was customary, the redhead was the first to break the unbearably deafening silence. She walked up to the railing and grasped it tightly, looking downwards towards the vacant platform. “So… where the hell is it?!”
“They must’ve moved it up to Sanctuary for repairs.” The dark-haired girl crumpled the map-kin in her hands and hurled it over the ledge, watching as it plummeted into the mechanical sprawl below them. “We did get it pretty heavily damaged during our last sortie.”
“Then what the hell do we do? That thing was our ticket out of here! We won’t stand a chance in anything else, not even a tank! There’s gotta be something else we can use…” She grew lightheaded with a grave uneasiness, the kind that made her stick to her stomach and ate away at her composure.
The ear-splitting shrill tone of crescendoing alarm suddenly rang through the entire building, followed by the flashing of red lights above them.
“SHIT! That’s not us, is it?”
“It can’t be. We’d know if we’ve been spotted.”
A series of distant explosions thundered all around them, sending great ripples through the catwalks and launching the girls airborne. It was as if they were in a snow globe that had just been rolled down a pyramid. The skylights above them shattered and cast a shower of fine glass dust shards raining down on them. The dark-haired girl landed face-first on the grated floor of the catwalk and looked up just in time to see her partner start to roll off and plunge to the fatal depths below. Lunging forward, she grabbed the screaming girl’s wrist and yanked her back up. The lights flickered above as the distant rumbles subsided. Through the holes where the skylights once were, the night sky blended with a brilliant yellow-orange glow as black plumes of smoke crept into view.
“You okay?”
Though a simple inquisition, those two words were enough to calm the hyperventilating redhead. She blinked as if to register the fact she was still in one piece and not a liquefied splatter on the ground 20 meters below, and looked at her guardian angel. “I- I’m okay!”
“Attention!” demanded a female voice with the thickest Japanese accent possible emanating from the speakers. “Enemy combatants have breached all major entrances of the north and south wings! This is not a drill! Combat Readiness Stage: Level 0! All personnel, rendezvous immediately with your CO and await further orders! This is not a drill!”
As she helped her fairer-haired partner back up on her still-shaking feet, not-so-distant rapid gunfire echoed all around them and seemed to get closer with every shot. “Shall we proceed with plan B?” she asked, posing the question with a collected calmness but with a sternness that beckoned haste.
“Now’s as good a time as any!”
03/24/2023 - 3:00 AM PST
Great Basin Desert, Nevada, United States
