CHAT 2025
” …does a scorpion sting when fighting back?… “
——————————————–
Dawn cracks over the penthouse.
The moon and the stars and the stillness of the dark linger tight as bands of pink sunlight pierce through the misty horizon on the Gulf of Mexi’Merica.
It’s been a relatively quiet few weeks for Joe and the other suite victims due to much less purch-visits than usual.
He’s had his social security barcoded to his nape, and his navel surgically removed for a long time now.
Broken-privilege syndrome has kept him sitting awake since the witching hours, motionless and restless.
Judging no humanity possible from the malevolent actors in uniforms, he thousand-yard stares over the sleeping fortress cityscape below.
In loathing.
He no longer prays, and accepts he’ll likely die getting kink-choked by some depraved VIP sadist.
He saw it happen to Peterson in the cell next to him.
His last words were a bloodshot, “…please, daddy.. I can’t breathe.”
…The Horror of his friend’s life being wrung out while he could only offer in his last moments; empty. Hopeless. Eye-contact.
And after all that brutality he bore witness to, the business and pleasure cycle continued without a blip.
A standard corporate punitive fee was legally applied to the high profile diplomat, and the guards joked it off that boys will be boys.
Besides, Monsanto-Bayer GMO Corps already secured Peterson’s blood and AI profile for future cloning and sales on the free market.
Technically, he’s immortal and can’t be killed, as he may simply be “re-planted” and brought back with a cleaner slate for the right price.
No harm, no foul.
The cell next to Joe remains eerily empty.
He contemplates suicide often, but can’t do it.
Some UNISAFETY guards noticed his deep depression and called him a soft unpatriotic ingrate.
Other places have it worse than he does, so he should be grateful to be in the greatest prison on earth.
And in the penthouse suite of all places.
The UNISAFETY Medi-Care doctors are discreetly titrating extra doses of serotonin, lithium and clozapine in his food to keep him mellow.
All the soft spoken UNISAFETY chaplains have collectively convinced him that killing himself is against the master plan from his lord and savior.
Why take unnecessary risks and gamble on his soul?
Joe agrees with the reasonings that more earthly suffering is better than the eternal kind.
He accepts the blessings frame that he’s being both punished and forgiven for having questioned the faith before.
The promise of seeing his cherished family and friends again in a mesosphere kingdom is the most grounding thing he can hold onto.
Local UNISAFETY Human Resources & Marketing worry and agree that if his mental health deteriorates past a certain point, he won’t be able to continue generating the revenue needed to maintain his economic role. The stock market and facility owners can’t afford to maintain free-loaders.
So they’re advertising him as a superstar synth available for a discreet dark-fantasy snuff experience.
Guaranteed to be just like the real thing.
His auction countdown for the big event ends in 3 weeks, as wealthynaires around the world bid on their limits of what they’d be willing to spend on him.
< — — — >
Covert helicopters are warming their engines far in the distance, out of the fort’s knowledge and range.
< — — — >
In a living community for officers nearby, Stan puts his leg down from the counter.
He just finished shaving his gooch in front of the bathroom mirror.
Music plays in the background, he sings along with no talent, as high pitched as he can emulate, “you know that I lo lo lo love the chase”
He combs his hair, “you told me once that i was crazy I said, baby girl i know; but i can’t let you go away. So don’t you get me started now.”
Noticing a pimple, he spot-concealed it immediately with a dab of makeup.
He follows up with a small hammer over his cheeks and chin, gently tapping and breaking bone surface so that it comes back more pronounced.
Raising an eyebrow at his chiselled face, he insists, “mirror mirror on the wall… …would you, fk me?”
Hold that thought.
He leaves the reflection, coming back to it a few minutes later in full uniform.
Now 3 inches taller thanks to the standard issue boots.
He stares his mirror down, menacingly,
“Indeed you would, you stupid little schlut.”
He taps his magnum at the glass, “And if you wouldn’t, I’ll break you too”, holsters the weapon to the inside of his jacket.
Quivering at how cool he felt in doing that.
He laughs, then winks himself goodbye.
Habiting his bedroom space fresh and ready, he makes his bed with the sheets tucked extra tight, planning his day.
Medals and certificates, plaques and trophies surround him on all four walls.
Licks his chops as he thinks about a double sausage, egg and cheese McGriddle breakfast paired to steamy Colombian coffee.
Contemplates maybe working through lunch to see if he can finally track down Ms. Rachel; he’s so close he can imagine pulling up on her before the end of this month.
He broods, she might even know Nemeny, whose capture would assure him a base-city commander level promotion.
The idea of owning a city full of guards and prisoners gets him excited as he heads downstairs, tightening his black leather gloves over his hands.
Gets him to thinking about finding another freshman Stacey to sedate for a dinner celebration of his expected progress.
He revs up his car, gonna fetch his drive through breakfast.
< — — >
Miles away, 2 squads of fighters from Kilo company in purple shirts are hauling ass in the morning darkness to another side of the forward assault base.
Their helicopter failed the warm up test and was estimated to be at least an hour before being mission ready.
After dashing around and across a robo-wolf lot, medical center, and drone operator camp, they luck out.
They’re approved one of the Swiftie’s purple back-up battle buses so they can get going with the first wave.
Kilo company wasn’t about to let their target slip away.
Better late than never they figure. Punish. Pursue. Punish. Drilled in their heads.
< — — >
A high value illegal is checked-in by a turncoat UNISAFETY guard.
While filling out the ID-ten-T privilege form, they were interrupted by a Superior Officer in a Smokey bear hat that was marching by.
He took personal interest, and charge, in delivering the prisoner to where she needed to go.
The penthouse elevator bell dings.
The superior Officer brazenly pushes her ahead from her rear.
Takes her to the female end of the transparent hallway cells.
Across the way Groggins notices, they catch eyes.
She discreetly twitches her nose.
Subtle nods of confirmation.
Mayte Michelle Rodríguez
Combat barbie. Skydiver. DJ.
She’s part of a specialized infiltration group from the Bander communities.
One of thousands.
Her heel spur has a biochip-implant that vibrates against the floor and highlights the whole building and nearby area.
This is translated by a specific urban morphology reading software, so her invasion mates have a better mapping of the building they’re penetrating.
The guard eases her into her cell, whisper crackles at her from behind her neck in a broken cadence.
“Here we go Naooou senioooorita! No overcrowding here to cut the funn short. You hydrated?
I am. I think I might just pound–“
“–It’s been a long day haaaaandsome. Fk it, let’s just, do it, you know what I mean? Think you can do me a solid and rub the tension off my back first? Then just, let your body talk?”
She seductively turns a side glance and flashes her cute canines.
Tickles his crotch from her back-cuffed hands.
Michelle coos, winks, begs.
< – >
Time on deck, 0530. All hands free, All systems go. Operation Bombalurina is underway.
I say again, we’re underway.
A massive close-air and ground assault force is heading towards the San Benito UNISAFETY Fort-City complex from different angles and distances all at once.
The friendly fire color of the day is purple.
Decoys shoot out ahead full speed.
Swarms of RC air surveillance and missile-bait drones move to target fast.
Remote controlled mine and road clearing vehicles race ahead and start the morning noise as they collide against roadblocks and traps.
Buses and helicopters carrying queue after queue of swift fighters are coming in hot and ready behind them.
< – >
Back in the penthouse, the superior officer is in extreme pain, writhing on the floor with his pants around his ankles and hands panicking over his crotch.
He’s freaking out over the barbed condom latched onto his dk.
Michelle was wearing a community standard issue anti-rape-axe sheath, and the guard slipped right into the trap.
As he squirmed begging to be helped and promising how he’s ready to leave UNISAFETY behind for a new life, she stomps the life out of his face to stop the noise and get back to work.
Helps herself to his Ka-bar.
She demands as she releases Groggins, “Weapons, where are they?”
Ready for action finally, flexing his chest and smiling bright, He raspidly replies,
“I’m all the weapon we need friend, what’s the plan?”
She rolls her eyes, “Anyone one else functional?”
She looks around, answers her own question.
Thin women, pregnant women, and helpless children on one side.
A few male-o-sphere celebrities on the other.
Everyone was awake and scared, unresponsive and unable to help in securing their own escape.
Joe was numb to everything that was happening, afraid to speak up against his internalized tormentors, let alone fight them.
MIchelle’s curious.
Unbelievable. His family has been looking everywhere for him.
What’s his deal?
Groggins replies, “Prison life, the fear of this place. They rape and kill alot here.
He was abused and all we could do is look or look away.”
“Oh, so he got to feel what it’s like to be a woman at school, work, and home?
groggings looks down, ashamed.
Everyone here needed advanced medical assistance and releasing any of them would do more harm than good for the op.
Immediately after the invasion medical support teams will be flooding the area, so all will be okay.
Groggins takes the nearby fire extinguisher in the hallway and breaks the only two surveillance cameras.
“Real talk. I’m all you got, so we’re all there is. That elevator and staircase is the only way in and out, so what’s the plan dude? Is the cavalry comi–“
!#$ %^&* The building shakes and he hits the deck as a reflex from the eruption of explosions outside.
Sht just got real.
Chaos unfold while Michelle admires the up close war view for a moment, hands on her hips.
Machine guns are popping heavy from the guard towers and missiles are launched from different areas of the base towards the west.
Across the massive city-base waaAAAAaailing-siiiiiiiirens go off.
UNISAFETY fighters, yelling, and shooting, along with the Swifties, over-run the city.
Michelle yells out to Groggins over the fire-works, hands still on her waist, directing with her head,
“Right! You and me then, we Sparta choke the access points and hold off until they get here.”
Quickly together, they block the stair and elevator entrances by propping upside down chairs and mattresses.
Groggins keeps his fire-extinguisher ready in one hand, as he ties a bed sheet over the stairway doors.
Michelle finishes tying a trip string, roughly 6 inches above the ground, her Ka-bar at the steady.
“Choppers are going to get the Swifties up and onto these roofs so we take these main buildings from top and bottom.
That’s 1st stage and all we need, so we just gotta hang in here for a few mikes. Until then–”
The elevator bell dings.
!#$ %^&*”
From far away, leading from the rear, Chris “Cappy” Capelluto is sipping some good ass coffee in an underground station.
He has a bird’s eye view and mentality as he monitors the multi live-stream monitors and interacts with the entire task and purpose of the operation.
His small team of command and control advisors work closely with the units through all the visuals and radio traffic noises coming in and out from the battle field.
Keeping the invasion integrity as tight and rhythmic as possible, to increase their chances of a speedy take town.
The op is made up mainly of Swiftie communities dedicated to taking down towns and cities of ideological slavers. Roughly 87% of these fighters are female.
Taylor Swift had asked her fans for help in making the world safe for all children as quickly as possible. That the enemy were all the systems and people that upheld organized suffering.
They answered the challenge. It started with an outbreak of chats and novels about identifying how they could meaningfully help. Then evolved into a highly organized global defense unit.
There were a plethora of communities like this of different motivations, but the Swifties paved the way substantially in numbers, commitment and technique.
There are also a few Bander app warrior groups like Ghourkas, and former police and special forces from around the world mixed in.
Even a tag along group of Marines and fighters from Kilo Company on a semper-redemption mission; for not being the first to fight in this global conflict.
No matter where anyone came from, they were all puckered up and ready to save lives and make the world a better place, or die trying.
Everything about the invasion has now been switched on live-online to all the communities in the Bander app.
The Global community CHAT directly invested in this mission from material to warrior support are immediately viewing, re-viewing, and rooting for the fighters.
They aid in connection, transparency, support, and deterrence of war crimes.
The chat lights up with mixes of blessings and thanks and promises of donations of food and clothing and beers for doing this for all of us.
Some men and women profiles join in and follow specific fighters and give them after battle options as motivation for a clean job.
Inviting them on friendly ice-cream dates after their mission there.
On a side app right next to that is where Cappy focuses.
Salty experts that have earned the global community’s trust give Cappy potential advice and feedback from their perspectives of the evolving assault.
Like everyone else, they also have intricate battle-field views accessible to them.
Fire fights and explosions dominate the fort-city scene.
Cappy orders the helicopters to stay up up and away, let the drones and flares do their job for now.
Precision Drones with gallium and explosives neutralize anti-air mechanisms and vehicles when discovered.
Quickly, the UNISAFETY auto-turrets and auto anti-air systems were crumbling.
On the ground, the Swiftie’s remote ground vehicles had well cleared the front gates.
The Buses moved in and spread out throughout the city to key targets.
The tall buildings. The entrance and exit roads. The weapons armories.
The construction sites with heavy machinery that they immediately commandeered and applied to aid the invasion.
They met heavy resistance from UNISAFETY robo-wolves and humanoid turrets, but were quickly neutralized with an autonomous influx of the Swiftie’s own collection of reprogrammed purple robo-wolves that came in like a flood of wrecking balls with teeth.
The air conflict has lowered to a point while Swifty boots started taking over different parts of the city, participating in run-and-gun firefights as they continue to ride their shock and awe wave.
Cappie orders the most delicate part of the attack.
Alright now. Withdraw air-drones.
Drop helis. Drop flares. Drop bodies. Return to base. Re-circulate air-drones.
Wash, rinse, repeat, we need to keep bringing in more foots on the ground. Get this cycle going.
The helicopters start descending. UNISAFETY Anti-air SAM soldiers take to the roofs.
A bombardment of flares and stun and chaff grenades blind the sky.
Two helis go down as a patch of UNISAFETY units bombarded them with concentrated EMP bullets on their approach.
A nimble Swifty combat Heli in purple cammo swooped in from around another building, peppered them to death with non-structure penetrating rubber pellets.
Drop and go! Drop and go! Secure those rooftops, and streets. It’s that now or never time, push push push!
Two backup copters replaced the mission for the downed ones to maintain schedule and pressure.
Three pre-designated purple combat helicopters swing in to protect and recover any survivors from the downed crafts.
Chinooks drop squads after squads throughout roofs everywhere.
They’d immediately disembark, secure, and blow a hole through the roof to penetrate the building and make their way down… If a stairway or elevator wasn’t accessible for some reason.
They added knockout gas into the a/c unit areas and masked up if the situation dictated.
Close and concise communication with each other was smooth, and they were as gracefully synced with each other in the conquest as backup dancers.
The buses drop multi squads of troops and boast double turrets on top. The front facing one with the ubiquitous .50 cal.
The other turret shoots pressurized oil to slick the floor, bodies, and entrances/exits.
Systematically, the Swifties secure high risk and priority areas as quickly and humanely as possible, with precision.
Their goal was minimal risk to hostages/victims/unknown prisoners, while balancing a summary death penalty judgement to UNISAFETY actors.
The front wave used paintball guns with mixtures of pepper dust and irritants and smoke screens, along with cutting edge body armor.
They employed constant commands to put their weapons and body down before Swiftie sweepers come in hot. This was their last chance to lay down and surrender.
A countdown of 5 seconds would be shouted as the Swifties with lethal rounds close in and shoot anyone and anything standing after the non-lethal groups made their initial attempts.
Swifties were world famous for rehearsing and perfecting an alternating use of a fill and flow method for expediently clearing rooms.
They proudly shared their techniques globally.
A chopper landed on the penthouse rooftop.
Swift warriors exploded their way in, weapons drawn. There’s a messy scene in front of the elevator.
Several UNISAFETY officers laid dead over chairs and mattresses.
Michelle has been shot twice in her left leg and a chunk off her left hip, she’s kicking in pain and biting her teeth.
Giving occasional punches to the wall next to her. She’s huffing and puffing.
Groggins is doing his best to stop the bleeding, keep her breathing, and stave off shock.
Medic members rush in and relieve Groggins, maintaining pressure against the wound and carrying her away in a stretcher to the chopper before it leaves.
Groggins asks the Swifties as they start making their way down for an extra weapon so he can join them.
They tell him that they appreciate his help, but this is a rehearsed operation.
He would be putting himself and others at risk, so to please step down.
He gets aggravated and the Swifties immediately immobilize him with a stun gun, lock him in a nearby cell, and continue their mission.
They call in on the radio and confirm that this building has victims that are going to need priority medical attention, that they are making their way further down to the factory floors.
Groggins sits down, makes himself comfortable in the transparent cell.
Accepting his continued helplessness with dignity.
He looks around him, the victims. His friend, Joe. They’re safe now, and starts making plans on following up on the status of his old crew.
He hopes they’re still alive, he can’t wait to get back into the FIGHT!… …He hopes Michelle will be okay.
She was looking pretty rough, she saved his life. As his adrenaline starts wearing down, he worries more and more about her and his other loved ones.
Figures run back and forth in front of Joe, not like a visual blur, but a memory one.
More and more boots are going left and right, he knows this for sure.
The women and children in the cells are quietly communicating with each other, excited about finally being saved and getting out of this bad place.
But Joe can’t seem to think straight at the happenings, and is in a frozen mix of indecision and observation.
Outside, the first wave momentum hits a brick wall. UNISAFETY has launched a barrage of arc-missiles that are slowing the Swiftie initiative and racking up casualties.
Missiles are crashing in from above and destroying air and ground assets with precision. Moreover, some buildings with Swifties raiding were hit.
The live CHAT rings and alerts.
A half dozen submarines are alternating between above surface for firing and under water for cover from nearby lake Cross.
The submarines were an unexpected defensive capability. Cappy had not accounted for them.
He reacts immediately to save fighters. All war equipment were considered consumables, not people.
All assaulting choppers land down and away, land down and away. Get out and take cover away from the vehicles. Ground team seek cover, ground vehicles find cover from above.
Holding off on the second wave. standby and stay alert.
The last chopper to land was cut down by a missile. The second wave of incoming buses hauling artillery from their hitches pulled off of the roads and dismounted around tree lines for cover while 3 of them were obliterated.
The expert side of the CHAT lights up again, alerting Cappy to watch the city’s 6.
Cappy didn’t like what was developing.
South flank’s getting pinched. UNISAFETY forces were taking advantage of that opening and are closing in.
He orders Swiftie squads Green and Swiftie Teal troops nearby to intercept a South East movement before they can complete their maneuver.
The East side of their assault is taking a fresh wave of fire from the submarines.
The AI suggest hiding behind the tall buildings, but he disregards.
The enemy already proved they would shoot their own.
Not addressing this immediately would drive up casualties and prolong the battle.
He needs a solution to the problem. Now.
Fkn think Cappy think.
He nervously sips his coffee, standing upright, one hand behind his back.
Reckons that kind of speed and precision has to be AI assisted.
He spits his coffee out and orders 3/4rs of the remaining air drones and even visual drones to flare and flash the submarines and land on them, hover around them, do what they can.
They do as expected.
As soon as the submarine sensors recovered from the flares they auto-aimed at the first threatening drones immediately above them.
They launched missiles straight up that came back straight down and destroyed themselves.
Cappy doesn’t let up. There were still submarines there. He can’t address them now, but he can at least keep their heads down.
Second wave artillery I need you to spread out and edge in while concentrating fire on the lake on your HUD displays.
Hone in your hits. Make them stay under water until this is all over.
All unites all units, continue wave two. Everyone back on the saddle, avoid the sustained fire from the south.
An assistant has someone on the line, she informs Cappy that there’s a local community group on the other line.
They’re offering to send in some anti-submarine hunter seeker RC planes.
They’ll patch that lake problem. ETA, 3 hours.
“They verified?”
“They check out sir. Bander app records show other fighters have applied this tech before and they even have a demo video, I suggest we execute.”
Cappy nods, “do it 
“, and gets back to the screens.
The operation is back on track, they are taking ground like clock-work.
On the now secured northern gate side of the city, Kilo company parked their bus and are on foot around it, on the alert.
AI recognition alerts from drones earlier had him tagged while they were driving around the city streets, closing in on him, but their drones were sent to the lakes.
It would be about half an hour to a full hour before the replacement drones would come online.
All they know is that he can’t be far and at the very least he can’t get past this gate. Some of their members went looking for cars as the target was spotted in a vehicle.
They just had to wait him out while the face finding software came back online and the Swifties kept tightening control.
Stan is nearby, on the other side of the street a few block down and out of sight, staying low on the inside of his black 1970 Chevelle.
He knows that the longer he stays, the less likely he’ll be able to escape.
The Marine looking dudes in purple shirts from the bus look like they’re posting the north exit gate.
He’s confident that if he can get past them, they won’t chase him.
The city is their priority, not little ol’ me.
He slips out and opens his trunk. Stan has a Scarface edition M16A2 with m203 grenade launcher attachment. He didn’t load the rifle, as he only– WHOAH!
A black cat with wide yellow gator eyes jumped on his trunk, slamming it shut on him and making him stumble back in surprise.
She hisses and air swipes at him before immediately running away.
Stan lets go of his revolver’s grip, shook and annoyed from the random attack, he returns to the priority at hand.
Re-opens his trunk and takes out the sleek and hefty military grade weapon, needing only to use the launcher.
He put the kilo company bus under the leaf-sights and shot out a high explosive 40mm round square on the bus, setting it ablaze.
Kilo company immediately dig into their cover positions and point their weapons out.
Sgt Lara had just help remove the only person in the bus, the driver, before a 40mm came down and smoke clouded everyone at the checkpoint.
Lara is relieved, with difficulty, of the wounded warrior by a nearby Swifty medic group that quickly set shop at city perimeters.
Cpl Neftali held his breath and took out a mortar kit from within the flaming vehicle, searching by memory and coughing his lungs out by the time he finds it.
Getting more oxygen from the ground , he low crawls out the flaming bus.
He struggles getting the heavy mortar gear outside the city gate and off the highway entrance.
Mortars fall and trail behind him on the floor as he scrambles to set it up ahead and aim in north ward on this strip, guesstimating a kilometer and a half.
A UNISAFETY flag in the distance gave him some windage.
Stan launches one more round, a tear gas one, and gets into his vehicle and rushes the gate, taking ineffective pot shots from some surprised fighters.
Neftali shouts blindly at his fireteam to help him out, the mortar was broken, it would have to be fired by hand and he needed back-up.
He keeps calm and angles the tube carefully to aim northbound on the road, one eye closed.
He figured the attacks were likely the target prepping an escape, and this was all he could think of as a retort if he comes charging through.
Sure enough, Stan’s 0-60 in 4 seconds Chevelle spectacularly busts through the gate.
The fire and smoke cover was functional in aiding his escape, as he’s well on his way north on highway route 69E.
Lara catches up and follows Neftali’s lead, picks up a mortar from the ground behind him and slides it in while Neftali remains cool on his one knee, holding the tube angled and locked in.
Lara taps the level continuously to make sure the bubble level isn’t stuck while shouting, “Out, out, out, out, out, out, out, steady steady steady steady”
Neftali confirms fire fire fire fire while squeezing the trigger.
The mortar flies over and explodes well ahead of the racing vehicle, causing a massive hole and a wall of rubble dust.
The Chevelle was forced to smash on its brakes.
Colin Kaepernick jumps in from the other side of Lara and loads the next round, getting out of the way and going back for more that may be needed.
Lara repeats the tapping and cadence again.
The second shot blasts the side of the vehicle, flipping it off road.
The team cheers, starts running, and stop abruptly.
Clark Fredericks rides up honking behind them in a commandeered Mazda 6 and the three pack in.
Lara complains as he rides shotgun and adjusts in his seat while holding the Jesus bars, “seriously, there weren’t any other whips?”
Clark ignores him, burning rubber as the vehicle skids into pursuit towards the wreckage ahead.
Going 0-60 in 12 seconds.
Compliments the team as he lowers his brows at the sight they’re heading to; “Hell of a shot fellas”.
Lara and Colin look at each other, nod, “All on this guy.”, their thumbs point at Neftali.
Hiding a smirk, he’s humble about it, “Two words for all ye present; Kentucky-windage.”
He pops the holster strip button on the pistol strapped to his chest.
He can’t wait for this to be over and tell Doc he’ll be seeing him again soon in Charlotte after they stabilize this invasion.
Nobody notices the black cat quietly under the driver’s seat.
They pull up to the flipped Chevelle laying flat on its back, black smoke and small flames coming from it.
Stan is already disappearing into the tree line nearby, limp-running and panting desperately.
The Kilo fire-team chases on foot.
Follow the track prints in the woods before the target wised up.
They zig-zag their search in silence, as they’ve trained countless times before together, careful stay visible and not crisscross each other.
“Meow”
Lara bucks down and reflectively points his .45 assault pistol at the source of the sound.
The other guys lower also, not knowing the situation.
Frustrated, he relaxes his pistol back to alert to the dirt, quietly yells at the cat, “dammit Keithlyn, not again! Get over here right now young la–“
She raced to Lara, clawed up his chest gear and perched on his shoulder, her chest forward and saucer eyes fixated to a point.
“Meow”
Lara listens to her, suspicious, readies his grip… “…you’re saying he’s over there?
“Meow”
She nose-whiskers his ear affectionately and gets back to death staring ahead.
Lara hand motions to the other guys to be on alert as he makes an approach with his weapon.
Aimed in and at the ready.
Keithlyn holding painfully tight on his shoulder.
There’s a rustle and Stan bolts out like a maniac.
Lara unloads his mag, shooting the calves off Stan’s legs.
Neftali and Colin close in, but Clark was right there to finish the interception.
Stan looks up. “Please sir, indeed, I’m but a” — pulls out his magnum with lightning speed.
Clark unloaded his 13 shot clip on Stan and steps out of the way.
Stands hands are powerless to hold the weapon while he quivers and gasps for breath through his bloody chest and neck holes.
Lara, Neftali, and Colin unload their clips center mass as well, as a courtesy to their team mate.
Sharing the hurt and glory of having to’ve execute a bad guy.
Another influential monster down.
They slowly head back to the Mazda.
The remaining Kilo unit maintains their guard at the gate, sealing it off with vehicles and razor-wire.
Old man Gravino from Kilo command radios in and asks the guys to hold a position near the treeline for shelter and just in case.
It’s over, just a matter of time as the threat dies down.
Lara compliments Neftali again on the fast thinking with the mortars, that was a close one.
Neftali agrees, “Yeah, no, it just made sense man, know what I mean? Like, for example, I should be the Sgt and you should be the Cpl, right?”
Lara laughs as ranks don’t mean anything in the new bander communities, while Neftali busies himself on his phone, messaging his lover.
Lara gives him space, “Right, say hi to Doc for me.”
Lara checks the CHAT.
Countless families of victims are sending in videos of them crying, thanking them.
They had begged them to take care of this threat and they delivered. They feel honored.
They insist they’ll be sending gifts and promise coins to their base in Charlotte, the least they could do.
They can’t wait for the Swifties to finish the job and help filter out the victims from the abusers.
Cappy updates the city map on their status as reinforcing the North gate road for the rest of the invasion day.
The Kilo fire team break out their lunch by the treeline. Explosions and shots are heard throughout an entire city just a mile away.
Becoming less and less frequent as the sun goes down.
The next day, at the penthouse, Joe is being attended by mental health leaders, his family, and Billy’s mom.
They came immediately with entire communities of people looking for their love ones and alerted they were found in the bander app.
Groggins shared what happened, how Joe’s brain got rocked from this environment.
Everyone is desperate to start the healing process for him.
They hug him. But he’s not reacting how they expected. It’s as if he doesn’t think they are real.
Joe thinks he’s already dead, and is back with his angels.
They look very similar to what he remembered them looking like.
They hug him even more tightly.
Staring ahead, he blankly asks where Peterson’s at?
Peterson’s daughter is there, clutching his cold hand, and cries uncontrollably.
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