0600 hours, above the Slithering Desert roadway
The dawn light bled across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of crimson and molten gold. Beneath us stretched the vast, unforgiving expanse of the desert, a sea of swirling sands and jagged rocks that shifted with the relentless wind. The elevated road—a marvel of engineering—sliced through the desolation, its sleek metallic surface supported by towering steel pillars that seemed to vanish into the endless dunes below.
The Airblade hovered above the shimmering sands, Its engines emitting a barely audible hum. Inside the cockpit, I sat strapped into the pilot's seat, my hands steady on the controls. The soft glow of displays illuminated the cramped space, casting shadows across my face as I scanned the horizon, waiting for the convoy.
Through the earpiece, I relayed the plan once more to Kaelith and Farthington. "The convoy will be here in ten minutes. You've got that long to plant the charges and get back up here. Once the trap is sprung, we'll collect the Kyritite and leave. Anyone who sees your faces? Make sure they can't talk about it later. Dead men don't tell tales."
Farthington's voice crackled through the comms, "Whatever you say, ma'am. As long as my monetary benefits keep rolling, I've got no complaints. The charges are armed and in position."
Kaelith's nervous stutter followed. "We—we'll be in and out before they even know what hit them."
The Slithering Desert was more than just sand. It was a predator in its own right, with deadly fauna like the Tunnel Boring Snakes—creatures that could emerge from the sands with terrifying speed and deadly precision. The hostile environment added another layer of danger to our mission, but it was also our ally. The convoy wouldn't be expecting an attack out here.
After a while in the distance, I spotted the convoy—heavily armored vehicles moving in a column, kicking up dust that trailed behind them like a plume of smoke. Their bulky frames, Made of reinforced metal, glinted dully in the rising sun.
Inside the lead vehicle, Johnson stared out at the endless desert, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against the steering wheel. The interior was cramped and stifling, the hum of the engine a constant vibration beneath his feet.
"Hey, Jeff," Johnson said, breaking the monotony, "you ever wonder why we're here?"
Jeff didn't look up. "You mean why we're stuck in this dead-end job?"
Johnson shook his head. "No, I mean, like, why we were born. What's the point of all this?"
Jeff sighed, leaning back. "Does it matter? Doubt it would if we died right now."
Johnson frowned. "I've got a family—"
CRACKOOM!
The explosion tore through the lead vehicle, a fiery burst of orange and red that flung the armored car sideways. The force of the blast crumpled metal like paper, flames licking hungrily at the wreckage. The car careened into the guardrails, the screech of tearing metal echoing across the desert, before flipping violently over the edge of the elevated road.
It plummeted into the sands below, disappearing in an eruption of dust and debris. A secondary explosion roared as the gas tank ignited, sending a shockwave through the air. The vehicle lay in a twisted, burning heap, flames spiraling upward as the desert winds whipped the smoke into frenzied patterns.
Above, the roadway groaned in protest. Fissures spider-webbed across the surface where the explosives had done their work. The convoy's once-solid formation shattered, panic setting in to their occupants causing the remaining vehicles to struggle to react.
The first transport truck, its vision obscured by the thick smoke, slammed into the damaged roadway. Metal scraped against metal as the truck flipped onto its side, sparks flying as it skidded along the pavement, teetering dangerously over the edge. The second truck, brakes screeching, swerved to avoid the wreckage, skidding to a halt just in time. Guards poured out from the remaining vehicles, weapons drawn, eyes wide with confusion and fear.
I spoke through the comms, my voice steady. "Execute the extraction."
Kaelith and Farthington descended from the Airblade, their figures barely visible through the swirling smoke. Kaelith, clad in tactical gear that hugged his form for maximum mobility. Farthington, in his ever-flamboyant custom suit—"bullet-resistant," he claimed—seemed oddly out of place, yet confident.
They touched down on the roadway and unclipped their harnesses in one smooth motion. Moving with caution, they advanced toward the convoy, smoke cloaking their approach until the emerged from it trying not to get spotted by the guards by creeping along the edges of the rodeway. The guards, still reeling from the chaos, scrambled to form a defensive line.
"Intruders! Open fire!" one of the guards shouted as they spotted Kaelith first, and the air was instantly filled with the sharp crack of gunfire.
Kaelith darted to the side, scrambling as he ducked behind a section of the damaged roadway. He pulled out his submachine gun, returning fire with rapid bursts. His aim wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep the guards pinned down, forcing them to take cover behind their vehicles.
Farthington, ever the opportunist, slithered through the chaos like a shadow. One by one, he took down guards with unrefined strikes, however his attacks came from unexpected angles leaving them no time to react. The guards fell in his wake, each one dispatched before they even knew he was there.
With the guards distracted, Kaelith made his move, advancing toward the overturned truck. He pulled out the plasma cutter I had given him, its bright blue arc slicing through the reinforced lock on the cargo hold. Inside, the Kyritite crates gleamed, neatly stacked, and ready for extraction.
"Got it," Kaelith muttered as he began attaching the harnesses to the crates. Farthington continued to hold off the remaining guards, his movements almost theatrical as he ducked and weaved through the vehicles blocking the guards' line of sight. Exploiting their dwindling firepower Farthington waited till they had to reload before launching his attacks.
As the final guard fell to Farthington, Kaelith glanced at the overturned truck, still precariously balanced at the edge of the roadway. "I should probably check this one, too."