And here's Chapter Four

Enjoy!

The assignment. The mission. The journey through the cities, scouting for the enemy.

With me at the wheel, McAllen riding shotgun and our three other teammates in the back, we drove at a regular forty-five, fifty miles per hour. The ammo crates jumped up and down as we passed over the bumps, and more than once I saw Roscoe's face turn green as we hit a particularly nasty pothole.

We named our Warthog "Vera". It had been a topic of discussion between Edwards and McAllen; as this vehicle was going to be our life insurance for the mission, we felt it necessary to treat it as though it were a living, breathing member of the team. Yacoby came up with the name "Vera"; she said it was named after Augusto Vera, an old Italian philosopher of the 19th century who practiced Hegelianism, or the belief that all reality is capable of being expressed in rational categories. As this was a frequent belief of ours in a time where reality was taking a turn for the surreal, we all agreed it was the perfect name. Thus, Vera became the sixth member of our team.

We had succeeded in screwing the turret onto the top of Vera's bars, placing it on a pedestal we had scrounged up so that we could turn it 360 degrees. Of course, us being able to move freely 360 degrees was another story. But we would adjust the best we could, and the fact that the gun could move freely full-circle meant an easier time in downing Ghosts if they ever came at us.

McAllen opened up a can of tuna and started eating.

"So where to first?" he asked me.

"Tanzania Republic has reported Elite Armored Guards attacking civilians. We'll swing by Wind Power Station 7 and see if maybe this is where they're coming from."

"Zanzibar Island? How the hell are we gonna get Vera over there if there isn't a bridge?"

"Well, I figured we could set up an OP and monitor what goes on, while we find some sort of boat to get us across. The OP will keep their eyes peeled while we move."

"Binoculars aren't going to pick up active camo at a far range, even with thermals."

"I know. We'll just do the best we can."

"I can pick off a few if I see them," called Roscoe from the back seat.

"Make sure they don't see you, or they'll send those Banshees right down on top of us."

"Copy that. No worries."

Zanzibar Island used to be a beautiful paradise, a home away from home, but in the last twenty years it had really gone to ground due to aerial bombardments and evacuation. Wind Power Station 7 was said to be a former Spartan training ground, and from what we heard a damn good one, but it was shut down when the project was discontinued. Sometimes someone gets sent in for maps or something, but for the most part, it's shut up tight.

We parked Vera on a cliff near the base of Mount Kilimanjaro. From there, Roscoe laid out his camouflage covering to conceal him and the 'Hog while we looked for alternate transportation across to the island. He would be our eyes from the mainland while we did our recon.

Edwards found a small raft to take us across. It was old and rickety and made of wood, just like the ones used in those century-old stories, but with any luck it would work. Yacoby then found a rope line we could pull ourselves across with. It was daring, and we were sure we would have every Covenant artillery piece zoomed in on us, but we had to get across, so we went with it.

We dragged ourselves across the ocean to the island with our weapons, two grenades a piece, and some Satchel charges to blow up anything of importance, be it a base or a auto-turret. McAllen was the heaviest of our group, and as such, was the strongest. He did the majority of the pulling, though me and Edwards helped some.

We kept our ears and eyes open for plasma shells. In the middle of the day, in bright daylight, both were hard to do. Plasma can be just as bright as the sun, and when you're looking up to see if a bolt of seismic energy is coming right at you, you might as well be trying to find one yellow dot on a wall painted yellow. The only difference from the sun and the plasma is that plasma is blue, but against a blue sky that difference might not have even needed to exist. As for sound, it only makes two: when it's being fired, and when it hits something. And those were two sounds we could do without hearing.

But we made it across without a problem. And judging from the lack of sniper fire, no one knew we were where we were.

The base past the beach was defended with a rock wall that had been carved and sculpted to house any snipers and sentries that happened to be on the look-out for unexpected visitors. There were two ways past that- through the large opening that advertised the aforementioned visitors, and then sneaking up the stairs to the left end of the base. Past the rock wall was a small sentry outpost and a massive windmill

I took a mirror out of my pocket and flashed it against the sunlight to signal to Roscoe that we were across. His response was a flash back to us a moment later, telling us that we were good to go. I turned to my team and gave them their assignments; Edwards and McAllen were going to break left along the wall and take out any sentries and snipers that they most likely had set up, while Yacoby and I would sneak into the fort and plant charges on the Wraiths and Banshees stationed. Once done, we would fall back to the boat and detonate the charges on the way back.

McAllen had stolen (or "borrowed", as he preferred to call it) a silencer for his M-7 off of one of the soldiers back at the camp. Although he was a big, loud, boisterous man, in combat he liked to have the feeling of being a ghost to the Covenant. And since we were now a scout unit, he had an ample opportunity to see how much of a ghost he could be. He screwed it on to the tip of his sub-machine gun, winked at us, and then took off, Edwards right behind him.

Later, when we got back to the mainland, Edwards filled me in on how their half of the mission went. For that reason, I've included his account in with mine, synchronized so that it fits in easily.

After we split up, I took Yacoby through the passageway to the base. We moved through the first arch and took cover behind some debris. I peeked out and saw two Jackals on patrol, moving back towards the others. I looked back at her and motioned for her to stand still for a moment, let them pass.

On the wall, the other two had run into their own problems. They had discovered two Grunts just standing guard, lost in idle chit-chat. They, unlike our Jackals, were not going anywhere anytime soon.

Silencer on his weapon, McAllen peered out from the corner, took quick aim, and popped one of the Grunts right in its slimy little head. It did not even make a noise as it slumped backwards, its corpse resting on its oxide tank. The second Grunt yelped and turned to see where the shooting had come from; a second burst of fire to the gut took out that threat in a hurry.

Edwards jumped out, moved ten feet ahead and crouched behind the crates near the fallen bodies, and peaked his head out. There was no one that he could see; the Grunts had alerted no one. He indicated for McAllen to move up and join him.

Where we were, the Jackals had moved on and we ventured through the cracked portion of the wall into the base. We were met with a hallway, one side going up to where we knew the turrets were, the other leading deeper into the compound. I sent Yacoby up to take out the turrets while I scouted ahead to find the armor. I had no worries; she could move like a cat when she wanted to.

I quietly snuck up behind an Elite at the end of the corridor, my silenced pistol pointed right at the back of its cranium. Despite being silenced, my pistol could pack quite a punch, even at a long range. From where I was, I'd have enough power to maybe knock it out or at least give it one hell of a headache. The only way to kill an Elite with it, though, was to place it right to its head when I pull the trigger.

Quick as a flash, I put my muzzle up against the back of its head and shot twice. I could feel both bullets pass right through its skull and I felt it jerk against my gun, and then fall forward like a tree that had just been cut down. Along the way, he took half a container full of armor and weapons down with him, resulting in a very loud bang! that could easily be heard from down the hall.

I threw myself behind a barrel, cursing my existence as I heard the footsteps of approaching Elites. From the footsteps, I could count two, possibly three. As they got closer, I could distinctly hear three. Then one either stopped to stand guard or went off elsewhere, because one pair of footsteps stopped and the other two rounded the corner, plasma rifles in one hand and energy swords in the other.

My heart sank. An Elite could sniff a human out pretty well when they had to, and I could see these two's nostrils already flaring, trying to get a hint of a scent. My MA5C would dent the armor, maybe even kill one of them, but killing two, possibly three of them? By myself? Not good odds.

Slowly I reached forward and, without too much hassle or noise to make one of them notice me, I grabbed a plasma grenade off of the Elite I had taken out. If all else failed, I could always try to go with the "fast and messy" approach and take them with me. Never liked the idea of it, but desperate times, right?

One of the Elites' head jerked up, finally acquiring my scent. I readied my grenade as it got closer, sword looking particularly dangerous-

And that was when Yacoby leapt down from the higher level and landed right on top of the Elite, knife out in her right hand. She jammed it into the right side of its neck and tore it halfway across its throat, severing whatever vein Elites had. The alien made a choking noise as it tried to swing at the woman, sword swiping through the air as it twisted and slammed into the wall.

The second Elite let out its yelp and raised its plasma rifle when I jumped out from cover and shot it twice with my pistol. The first bullet pierced the left side of its neck, and the second one tore off one of its mandibles. It stood there, dumbfounded by pain, while I fired a third one that went right into its mouth and tore through the back of its head. It fell to the ground at the same time as the one Yacoby was holding onto did, and both Elites' armor made that loud clanging noise as they hit the floor.

The noise attracted the third Elite, because we heard it start moving our way. Yacoby grabbed the energy sword and, the minute it crossed around the corner, she activated that thing to slide right through its chest. She held it there long enough for it to breathe its last rancid breath and then dropped it onto the ground with its buddies.

Meanwhile, Edwards and McAllen had started to get the hint of something going wrong. There were more Grunts moving in packs, and Jackals were starting to take up positions on the balcony with carbines; not Beam Rifles, otherwise, they would have really begun panicking. But either way, the tension was rising. Our escapade with the four Elites had apparently not gone unnoticed by the Covenant of this fortress. We needed to hurry this up.

Taking careful aim, McAllen fired two suppressed bursts from his M-7 and nailed two Jackals right in their vulture-like heads. That was two less snipers to worry about. Edwards got behind another Elite and snapped its neck real quick. His pistol, also silenced, came out to deal with two Grunts that the Elite had been giving orders to and shot them both in the head, once each.

By this point, Yacoby and I had found where the Wraiths were. These things were dragged off by Phantoms to open fire on civilian towns nearby, and once they were done, the Phantoms would drag them back. These things had already done a number on our morale; I figured it was time we pay them back a little bit.

I got out my satchel charges while Yacoby began planting hers on one of the tanks. If we were in combat, we would usually just drop a grenade down the hatch, but with them being stationary, charges were the best bet. Plus, there was no point in wasting a grenade on a stationary tank. Yacoby planted two charges on two tanks, while I got another two and then placed a charge on the gas tank located against the inner wall. All of the charges would blow the place sky-high as soon as we hit the trigger.

We suddenly heard shooting going on outside. One of the others must have caused enough noise. It was time to get the hell out.

We were right. One of the snipers had spotted Edwards and had raised the alarm, opening fire. He ducked down after the first bolt went over his head, and McAllen fired at them as the snipers suddenly began opening up.

Figuring nothing mattered at this point, Edwards finally opened fire with his Battle Rifle, shooting off three-round bursts and making sure each burst hit them squarely in their ugly vulture-like heads. McAllen focused his fire on the Grunts that were opening fire with plasma pistols and needlers. He pegged off two just as Elites started showing up, shooting plasma rifles and throwing plasma grenades.

Yacoby and I, meanwhile, ran outside at the rear of the base to see two Elites get a five-man Grunt squad together. They barely stood a chance. Yacoby's shotgun took out one of the Elites with a blast to the head and upper chest while I laid sporadic fire and took out the Grunts with my entire clip. The second Elite raised its plasma rifle to us, but with Yacoby's shotgun and my pistol combined we were able to take it down with no problem.

At the same time, Edwards threw his own grenade, which landed right next to a couple of power cores. The explosion that followed was a massive one, as the grenade lit off the cores and set them off with a boom. One Elite was engulfed with the flame and there was nothing left of it when the explosion was over. Two Grunts too a hit to their oxide tanks and they ran around for a few seconds before they too blew up and were sent flying. The Jackals were beginning their retreat as the dust settled down, and now the Elites were beginning to mass.

It was at this point that Yacoby and I finally linked back up with our two comrades and decided to get the hell out of there. We had done our job and there was no point in waiting around to get killed. Plus, as always happened whenever they found rats in their base, I'm sure the Covenant would sick their Hunters on us before long. It was time to clear out.

So we took off, Yacoby going first with McAllen covering her, then me while Edwards covered me. When we were past the wall, I turned and covered my two men while they turned and hauled ass out of there, while needles and plasma bolts passed over their heads. Yacoby threw a grenade over their heads and I fired a few quick bursts as they ran past us. The grenade exploded, but I never knew if it had actually hit anything.

We got to the raft just as an Elite with dual Energy Swords jumped off the cliff side towards us. It jumped on McAllen, who saw it at the last moment and rolled out of the way. He raised his M-7 to fire as it raised its sword to stab him-

And then a bullet from Roscoe's sniper rifle blew its brains right out of the back of its head. It fell to the ground, the swords deactivating as its hands went slack.

I grabbed McAllen and threw him onto the raft while Edwards covered us. Then he and Yacoby pushed the raft out onto the ocean and jumped in. McAllen recovered and immediately began pulling the rope while Edwards and I, having the two free automatic weapons handy, opened fire on the surviving Covenant that were approaching the shoreline and firing on us.

Now, here was where our hastily-made plan really put us at a disadvantage. Now that the enemy knew where we were, they were more than able to fire those plasma turrets right down on us. Every blast of energy that hit the water sent off a geyser around us while we dealt also with the plasma bolts and needle shards that flew over our heads like angry wasps. As we were a quarter of the way across a huge plasma bolt landed ten feet away from us and almost flipped us over. I knew immediately that it was from a Hunter's plasma cannon; if it got a dead hit, we were dead men.

Thank God for Jerry Roscoe. He knew how bad it was and did everything he could to make it better. He sniped the Elites on the shoreline, not wasting his time on the Grunts, knowing that if he took out the leaders the Grunts would just run scared. He shot at where ever the Hunters were, and we knew that the bullets would not kill them but they would at least cripple them for a time. His best shot came when he hit a power core that completely ignited one of the plasma turrets, and we saw the giant round-shaped turret roll off the ledge and fall straight into the sea, its driver going right in with it.

When we were about halfway across, I finally detonated the charges. The explosion that followed was the biggest explosion of the day. It was as if the entire roof of the station had been blown off as the tanks and the gas tank ignited in a Fourth of July spectacle that even on a raft under enemy fire we could appreciate. The explosions were so fierce that every surviving Covenant soldier stopped firing at us and just stared in horror as we destroyed their entire armored division. The explosions continued on for another ten minutes, by which time we were well across and had disembarked and were loading back into our Warthog.

As we started Vera up and Roscoe hopped in with his gear, I couldn't help but wonder how much of the place we had destroyed. If there was something important that our command would need later, it would not be good if it had gone sky-high. Maybe even something about the Spartan project. Suddenly, I felt guilty. We probably should have explored more, made sure we got all the important documents out of there before we had sent it to Kingdom Come.

No point crying over spilled milk, I supposed. We just had to assume anything of importance had been taken out before the Covenant had shown up. Our job was to scout the enemy and destroy them; there was nothing in the job description about gathering documents and reporting them to intelligence. If it was, it was in the fine print and they had not read it to us. That was their fault. We were on reconnaissance of the enemy, and that to me did not involve paperwork.

As we drove off, our minds turned to our dinner, which we pulled out of cans in the back of our Warthog, and wondering where the road was going to take us next.

Wow, I did not expect this chapter to take so long. Sorry about that. I've been really busy.

Well, that's that, I suppose. So...yeah, I'll see you all next time.