[My's Art in comment]
"Remember, My, treat every gun as if it's a P320, doesn't matter if it's unloaded or the safety is on, never point it at anything or anyone you don't want a hole in, you got it?"
Harrison instructed My as she was holding onto a pistol, her left hand clasped in front of her right. She took a little bit longer to process Harrison's English — Victor, or Trung, had been teaching her both Vietnamese and English — before she took her index finger off the trigger and placed it on the finger guard.
"Good girl, your understanding of English is a lot better now." He complimented her as he patted her head, which was only around his chest height.
"Now, relax your arm. You don't have to lock your elbow so stiffly. Give it a bit of room so you can deal with the recoil better."
My relaxed her elbows, positioning her arms to be more of an obtuse V-shape.
"Both eyes open, and line the rear sight to the front sight, make sure it's level."
She aimed at the paper target that hung fifteen meters in front of her. She lined her sight at the target, making sure both the blurry sights were just about on the bullseye.
"Remember, you're always responsible for every bullet, so make sure you hit your shot. You never know what the bullet might hit if you miss. It might penetrate a wall and hit an innocent person on the other side."
She was sure of her aim. Her hands weren't trembling, just a stable, slight sway that was normal for everyone. She took a long breath in and held it.
"Have at it."
Her finger was back on the trigger. She pulled the trigger.
An explosion erupted from the barrel of her pistol, causing her to squint her eyes. She felt every iota of force from the gun transferred into her arms, kicking her arms up to a 45-degree angle before she managed to regain control and brought the gun back down.
Harrison observed the shot through a nearby TV. It was about 1.5 inches from the bullseye, a little bit too high to the left. He nodded and patted her head again.
"That was a great first shot. You almost hit the bullseye."
My was breathing harder than before she shot the gun. The loud bang that her hearing protection toned down, the recoil that she could tangibly feel when she pulled the trigger, and the adrenaline when she realized that the bullet had hit the target. A target paper target, motionless, harmless, yet to My, it was another pirate, one of the many that My remembered, that she just shot dead. She wanted more.
Harrison was about to say something when the gunshots echoed through the shooting range again, jolting him slightly.
My dumped her magazine into the target. Slow and steady at first, as she was getting used to the recoil and letting her body adjust to the force and recoil, then the fire rate slowly increased until the 17-round magazine was empty.
Harrison looked at the girl. She was visibly shaking, either from the adrenaline, the recoil, or her trauma, probably a combination of all of them, Harry reckoned. He kneeled down at her side, just enough for the girl to see him out of the corner of her eyes. He gently took the gun away from her, did some basic gun checking, stowed it away, then returned his attention to her.
My was breathing hard and fast, not as much as hyperventilation, but more of an after-a-hard-workout fast. Her emerald eyes were both filled with anger and sadness that no child should ever experience. Her whole body was shivering, less from the recoil of the gun and more trauma-related.
Harrison hugged the small and fragile My into his embrace, patting her head to soothe her pain. She hugged him back, drenching his shoulder with her tears.
"It's ok now, My, just let it all out." He told her.
My sobbed for a few more minutes before she was calm enough for Harrison to let go of her. His shoulder was a wet mess of tears and snot, but that's something that he could fix easily. He had something else to fix at the moment. My was unstable mentally, too much to even consider letting her join the PMC, as per the agreement with Luzia, but until it was My's time to join, it was still a long time to help the girl. He'd do as much as he could to help her.
"I'll give you some advice, My," Harrison told her as he locked gaze with her, "Don't ever let your emotion control you, My. You have to control it. Use it to your advantage."
My didn't understand it at the moment, but she nodded anyway. Harrison smiled wryly in return.
"Alright My, I think we have had enough of action today, how about we go get some rest huh? It's pretty late anyway. Want to hop on my back?"
She nodded. He then picked her up on his back and started working.
My rested her head against his neck.
She closed her eyes.
April 6, 2050 - 23:46
Da Nang, Vietnam - Tien Sa Port
My opened her eyes again, jolted back to reality as the van she was in drove over some bumpy road.
She looked up and around her, seeing her teammates all around her, as well as her girlfriend and comrade, who was sitting on her left.
Chisato noticed that My finally got back down to earth after drifting for a moment.
"Welcome back to earth."
My smiled
"Went all the way to the moon and back, and yet we're still not there yet."
"Well, a few more minutes and we'll be there."
"Mhmm."
My opted to check her gears again. She looked down at her Vector. It was on safety, loaded with a 33–round magazine, buttstock folded, and tucked against her plate carrier. Her plate carrier, a Skeletac ultralight plate carrier, was filled with enough mag pouches to carry eight extended Glock mags and a radio. Her belt was fitted with a holster for her brand-new Pit Viper, several mag pouches for the pistol, a few grenade pouches, and an AFAK pouch for first aid. Once she was satisfied, she leaned back, tapping her feet rhythmically, a trait she learned from her stepfather.
"My, I got a question to ask." Peter, who was sitting on the opposite side next to the door.
"Shoot."
"Why are you wearing… so… minimally?" He gazed up and down at her.
"Yeah, I was wondering about that as well… I mean, you're a good-looking, charming girl, but we're also going to be fighting." Chisato also voiced her opinion.
There were also murmurs from the others in the squad, but most of them were just agreeing with the previous opinion.
"Well, I want to be light and nimble. My job is to breach and clear, and the faster I get it, the faster I clear a room. Clothes are mostly a hindrance, friction, noises, all that."
"Aren't you worried about shrapnel?" Edric asked.
"Well, last time I checked, there aren't any clothes that can stop shrapnel or bullets."
"Not yet." Katya chimed in.
"Either way, until then, it's drip or drown for me."
Peter let out a sigh, not of disappointment or frustration, just a sigh.
Chisato lightly pinched My's cheek.
"You better not get into trouble that forces me to get your ass out of."
"No promises, but I'll try my best." My returned a grin on her face.
Chisato shoved her face away, although she did blush, as evidenced by the rose-tinted cheek whenever the light from the front illuminated the cabin.
"Alright everyone. We're here. Dismount, and good luck!" said the driver.
The van slowed to a complete stop. They've stopped right outside of the port's wall, somewhere near an emergency exit door.
"Alright, it's show time. Everyone, dismount." Peter commanded, changing back to his professional tone.
My unfolded her gun before racking the bolt, loading a round into the chamber. Peter opened the door and stepped out first, with his gun ready just in case of a hostile. Everyone else filed out of the van and got into formation. As soon as everyone was out, the van drove away quickly, out of sight, until the team finished the mission and/or required an extraction.
"Alright, Heaven's Hounds, you've got the green light. Other squads will be on standby to assist." Luna's voice echoed through the comm.
"Copy that, Falcon," Peter replied.
With Peter at the front, he led the team toward the emergency door. When they got to the door, he tested the door, finding that it was properly locked and protected with an electronic ID system to enter from the outside. It might have been obvious that the door would have been locked, but he was trained to always try the simplest way first. Sometimes, simplicity is the answer, though it was clearly not this time.
"1-5, crack the door," Peter ordered
"I'm on it," Katya replied
She got out of the formation and headed for the door. She grabbed the tablet mounted on her chest rig and started doing her usual technomancy.
It didn't take long until the electronic system let out a positively high-pitched beep, and the door unlocked itself. The team entered one by one, with Katya following behind at the back of the formation.
They then headed toward the closest warehouse, warehouse 28, keeping a 360-degree security perimeter. Once they reached the exterior of warehouse 28, they then moved toward warehouse 30. They moved with practiced precision and planned path, making sure to take advantage of the Drone's pre-planned path to move between them.
They passed the gap between warehouses 28 and 29, making fast toward warehouse 30. However, just before they could reach the gap between 29 and 30, a signature buzzing of a drone echoed from the gap, forcing the team to deviate from the planned path.
Peter looked around for a way out or somewhere to hide. Destroying the drone would be their last option, as they didn't want to potentially alarm the port's security or the criminals. Luckily, there was a way for the team to avoid exposure. There was a door near them, leading into Warehouse 29, that was locked by a physical lock instead of an electronic lock.
"1-2, cut the lock on that door, stat!" he commanded
Without any reply, My separated from the formation and headed toward the door. She quickly grabbed onto a bolt cutter on her back, cut open the lock, and opened the door.
Peter entered the warehouse first, aiming his gun forward just in case.
He quickly analyzed the situation. It was dark inside the warehouse, usual for this time of the day, no sign of people as far as he could see with his quad NODs, and there was no thermal signature highlighted. Good enough to hide, for now.
"Inside, now!"
The team filed inside the warehouse, one by one. My was the last one to enter, after she stowed the cutter away and grabbed the evidence along with her. Everyone stayed quiet, waiting for the storm to pass.
The drone's buzzing grew louder by the second until it was clear it was just meters from the door. It hovered there for a moment, seemingly not moving.
With each second that the drone was still nearby, the majority of the team grew more nervous. It was normal to be nervous in this line of work; however, it was even more nerve-racking when anything seemed like it could go wrong on their first mission. My, however, was the only one who was not nervous. Part of her already expected things not to go as planned: "Always expect the unexpected." That was what Harrison and his team taught her.
Just when the team began to wonder if something went wrong, they heard something else heading toward the drone: a set of rhythmic footsteps picked up by their headsets.
"... motherfucker. Move, you shitty ass drone." A Vietnamese male voice, probably a port's personnel, yelled loudly.
"These things never work properly. Gotta bring this thing to maintenance again…"
The team then heard some loud banging, like metal striking against metal. Whatever that person outside was doing, it sounded like he was taking out his frustration with the machine, or that he was performing a percussive maintenance on the drone.
"..There we go, should last for a little bit until the morning crew takes care of it…"
The drone's buzz got quieter as it flew away. The person outside, however, was now heading toward the door.
*Step*
*Step*
*Step*
The person was right outside the door.
Peter whispered into his mic.
"No, killing, just cuff him up and gag him."
He received an affirmative pat on his back and a thumbs up from My and the others, who were stacked on the other side of the door.
They waited for the man to open the door.
…
Five seconds passed, and the door was still closed.
…
Ten seconds, it still didn't budge.
Peter was about to wonder whether the team was compromised, and then he heard it.
"... Haizz… that idiot. I told him to make sure that all doors are locked, and GUESS WHAT HE DOES? NOT FUCKING LOCK ALL THE DOOR… yeah, I don't get paid enough to cover his ass."
After throwing a fit all by themself, the port personnel walked away from the door without checking or locking it.
Everyone let out a sigh, while My chuckled to herself.
"Who knew that being underpaid would save the night, huh? Now that's a first." My joked.
"What was he saying?" Chisato asked
"Something about his coworker being an idiot and forgetting to lock the door and that he's not paid enough to give a shit about the clear security breach."
"Well, all they had to do was pay them enough," Chisato replied.
All of them, who were Gen Alpha and Gen Beta, who knew the struggle of being underpaid, all let out a chuckle before Peter reigned them back to reality.
"Alright, Heaven's Hounds, let's keep moving."