Boraro
Market roofs, 1345
Market roofs, 1345
Ebrima did not expect a prim and proper western merc to agree with his cynical, African warlord-lite views of the world and fighting in it. He knew why he liked Adam right out of the gate. Neither Pole nor Cameroonian spoke much as they raced across the rooftops, carefully picking out each landing spot to avoid crashing through some corrugated steel sheet into the buildings below, the exo’s air conditioning struggling to keep up with the baking heat of the rooftops. It was a double-edged sword, however, keeping Artemis goons inside and on street level where the what was bearable. The first lookouts were easily dealt with, three shots of the suppressed rifle solving Boraro’s side of the equation. The two men continued bounding cover to cover along the rooftops, Boraro making a brief stop at the neutralized lookouts to dead check. Legal? Of course, he made sure to do it before he walked past them. After all, he was one of the righteous now. One more pair of lookouts had the misfortune to be in their path, suffering a similar fate with the same efficiency. The price of standing on the wrong side of lady Luck and more zeroes in the budget. The Cameroonian led them to a roof level with the target structure, overlooking the garden. The view wasn’t the best, but the roof with the best view was the one Ebrima would put a mine on top of if the roles were reversed. Good enough to reveal a quartet of exosuited spotters on the main roof rotating the directions they were looking in in regular intervals and a garden full of automated turrets, turrets that - according to the timetable - were already toothless.
”Minimal effort.” Boraro began introducing his plan. It might not have been the best way to describe it, but that was how he worked. Minimal effort for maximum gain, the less you did, the less could go wrong and the more fight you had in you for later. ”Ignore the garden for now, that’s Chaos’ field, but stay away from the garden-side windows and walls just in case they wake up. We work top to bottom, either we find our man or drive him out toward Viper. Once we have him, we don't bother with doors, go out the first suitable exit we find or make.” It would be easy for Artemis to hold them back going through the rest of the house with Simmonds in tow, but a lot harder to pin them down if they punched a hole in the wall and made a beeline for their exfil. Good thing Wilk had some charges on him, as Boraro had neglected to check before they shipped out. He would’ve wanted to time their strike along with the Heavies and disappear in the chaos, but there would’ve been too many variables in Artemis’ reaction to risk it. ”Team 1, Team 2 is moving in. Out.” He let Viper and Chaos know, loading a magazine of frags into the M 25 and switching back over to Wilk. ”After you, on my mark...” First two grenades fired, ”Go!” A third and final one, timed so that last would detonate a few seconds before Adam landed. He doubted the grenades would be enough to disable the exo operators, but their point was to stagger the farther ones to give Adam a safe landing window.
Taking a running start and with a boost from the jump pack, Boraro followed as soon as he could stow the launcher away, landing a few seconds after Adam, the shotgun at the ready. Rolling to a crouch, Boraro swept the Artemis operative’s legs from under her. She grunted a German curse as she fell on her back, more annoyed than hurt by the fall on account of her armor. Boraro’s shotgun wouldn’t let that stand, the Cameroonian driving its muzzle into the unknown German’s face and painting the inside of her helmet red with a double tap.
Whipping around, he came face to face, Muzzle to muzzle with the lookout in the far left corner, the shape of a rifle in the operative’s hands. Boraro moved fast, the jump pack propelling him into cover behind an AC unit. Disciplined semi-automatic fire whizzed past, one lucky shot striking a side plate and skipping off under such a large impact angle. Verifying it had remained intact, his HUD reporting the impact wasn’t strong enough to leave much of a bruise, let alone actual injury, he switched to the other side of the unit, peering out and firing at the spot the Artemis operative was last at. As the fire drove him behind cover, Boraro left his, trusting the other two would not bother him on account of Wilk and advancing a few bounds while firing before stopping. The Artemis operative popped back up, but Boraro wasn’t there already. The difference of a few meters was enough to let him take a shot unmolested, the Artemis operative falling backwards behind cover. When Boraro reached him, he was desperately trying to stop bleeding from his neck with one hand, a large chunk missing where the slug clipped him, the other hand reaching for the IFAK, not quite obeying its owner’s commands.
Bang!
Regrouping with Wilk, he swapped the M 25’s frags for stun grenades, making sure to remove the already chambered frag as well. ”No lethal grenades from now on.“ Wilk most definitely didn’t need to be reminded of that, but it was a good habit to have in case you found yourself working alongside an idiot. ”You have the shield, you're first through doors.” Was he gonna use Wilk to soak up bullets? Teeeechnically? But then that was exactly what breachers with handheld ballistic shields did, and his shield allowed him to return effective fire while being protected for long enough to matter. It was a shame the operation was a smash and grab and not just regular assault, otherwise doors would rarely be a factor and their entry would not be from the roof, but through the roof, but burying Simmonds under a hundred kilos of cinder blocks and concrete by accident wasn’t in the notes.
Stacking up on a skylight, Boraro prepared a flashbang, ready to follow the Pole inside. ”Flash and clear, on you.”