As a puppy, Rocky frequently struggled with the fear of water. Although he got over the fear in time for his basic training, it had its ways of crawling back when he least expected it. He hadn't been aware of the weather conditions during missions briefing, it was a fact they always had to improvise around, but his environment had taken a turn for the worst. He was half-submerged in a freezing river, keeping still as a rock as rain assaulted him from above. With his nose just above the surface, he was able to carefully hide himself behind the thick foliage and jungle canopies. He tried his hardest not to think about how filthy the water was, every little thought sending an uncomfortable chatter through his bones. His tactical vest was soaked in and out, clinging to his body like ice and prickling through his fur. His pup-pack was dipped underwater but luckily it would still function, as long as he didn't activate anything on it. It was agonizing already just to be in this hell, all he needed now was some fish to pick him apart from below.
He slowly lifted his muzzle out of the water, freeing his mouth. "Burton, time?"
A garbled static came through his collar, bubbling into words. "Twenty-two hours, captain."
"Right on schedule, alright. Everyone move out." Rocky began to push himself up, water draining out of his vest.
A few feet away, two waterlogged shadows rose out of the river, brandishing their own weapons. Shaking the water off themselves, Chase and Strap quietly trudged through the water to Rocky's side. Dipping their paws in the mud and marsh, the three clawed themselves back onto the land, keeping low in the grass to maintain their approach. The jungle was immensely dense, towering trees forming pillars in the land with miles of vine to string it all together. As unbearable as it was, the constant rain and congested surroundings were the perfect cover for an approach.
"Target building is... roughly three clicks forward." Rocky said, muttering with a low voice. "Where are we on intercepting their radio communications?"
"Still working on it, sir." Burton said quickly. "There's not a whole lot to intercept, Kolechi didn't really leave that much in there. If I'm going to find anything, I need a direct signal to home in on. I'll have to wait until someone uses a radio."
Chase spoke up. "He must've left something, given how many guards he stationed here."
"Well whatever it is," Rocky pushed through the bushes and vines. "We'll find it, and hopefully it'll help us trace his location."
They travelled through the thick blockages of plants and leaves until they finally broke through the trees. The ground turned to stone, jutting out into a cliffside that overlooked the entire forest on the horizon. Rocky walked to the edge of the cliff, squinting his eyes forward at a faraway structure. A mere discolored shape in the distance, a fortress of stone sat abandoned just below the mountains. Even from all the way out here, the mix could clearly see the immense withering that ate away its surfaces. It was only walls of stone now, the rain and overgrown jungle slowly claiming it a little more every day.
"An old castle?" Chase looked out on the horizon, spotting the distant building.
"Not a castle." Said Strap, speaking up from behind. "From what I've read, place used to be a church of some kind, until it was refurbished for... something." The husky gave a shrug. "Evacuation center, military base, I don't know. But it was never restored afterwards, whole thing was just left to rot for years to come."
"Only for Kolechi to randomly visit it for four hours, then leave without a trace." Rocky finished, a growl humming in his throat. "Can't believe we narrowly missed him... though I doubt we could've come out here that fast when we got the warning."
Strap looked to his captain. "Why do we have aircraft scanners out in the jungle?"
"It was Tracker's idea, not ours." Rocky said, still scanning his eyes on the faraway structure.
"Who's that?"
"Chihuahua." Chase answered. "Bit of a jungle nerd, but he runs some pretty respectable operations out here, all on his own." A faint chuckle left his muzzle. "We actually knew the guy back when we were pups. Crazy how you go from almost dying in the jungle every day to setting up air detection that spans for miles. I think it had something to do with poachers, I'm not really sure." He said, shrugging. "But he was happy to share the tech with us, giving the heads up that Kolechi passed through. Haven't talked to him in years..."
"Does he know you're with us now?"
"No, he doesn't." Rocky said aloud. "And for our sake, and his, it's better that he doesn't know. Nothing against him, but the less that know of our old identities, the better."
Faltering a little, Strap gave an apologetic look. "Forgive me, captain. I really didn't mean to-"
"No, you're fine. Everything's fine." The mix cut him off, growing exasperated. "We have a lot of ground to cover, we need to get moving now." He put a paw to his collar. "Burton, talk to me. What's the traffic down there?"
"Well I don't exactly have perfect vision up here." The retriever responded through the radio. "My sniper scope keeps fogging up, but from what I can see, it's mostly basic infantry milling around the fort. Uhh... small teams of two and three, they don't seem to be on high alert."
"Good, we'll take them out in the storm." Chase flattened his ears, cocking his rifle from where it hung off his pup pack.
"I have a suppresser. Do you want to drop a few, captain?" Burton asked.
Rocky motioned for his companions to follow. "Only if you know they won't find the body, I'm not taking any chances here. Move out."
The journey down the mountain and back through the jungle was an irritating trek, the team of three hauling their bodies through an ocean of sloshing mud and leaves. The rain, allowing concealing their approach, was an annoying jeer that trailed down their necks and soaked their fur. Chase and Rocky were slathered in dead foliage in minutes, becoming walking mud shadows brandishing rifles. Strap's white fur had blackened from the conditions, turning him into a soggy mess that would likely need hours of bathing to get his fur back to normal. With every deft movement, the fortress loomed increasingly closer, gradually towering over them as they crossed into the territory.
"Voices off." Rocky said swiftly, leading the formation through the grass. They moved as one, forming a line and walking in one another's footsteps, minimizing as much as noise as physically possible. A sharp snapping of twigs bit through the air, Rocky spiked his fur at the sound and immediately gestured to get down. The three soldiers flattened themselves in an instant, dropping to the stomachs and holding their position. They laid still for a few seconds, nothing but the rustling of trees and tapping of rain able to be heard around them.
Another snapping of twigs, this time louder. Rocky held his breath, watching as an enemy soldier appeared from the left side. He appeared to be out for a smoke, the dog absently wandering through the trees with little care for the sticks crunching under him. Burton was right, the grunt was fashioned with a basic military vest and worn-out backpack, slinging a primitive but functional assault rifle. Watching the enemy's move, Rocky discreetly held up the tip of his tail to the dogs behind him, a gesture to stay put. He carefully held up his paw and brought it to his arm, tapping a button labeled "sidearm" on his gauntlet. Bark-activated tools were always the standard for dog related technology, but audibly barking in a situation like this would be detrimental. To remedy the issue, the ACG developed an alternative way to activate their tools; assigned buttons on their armor. A much slower method of activation, but completely silent.
A hatch in Rocky's backpack opened, exposing a small pistol to the rain. A silencer had been attached, a notion of the captain's premonition that was already paying off. Waiting for the guard to walk past them, idly looking around the jungle, Rocky aimed his pistol and squeezed the trigger. A faint zip was heard within its clicking mechanism, and the guard's head popped out the back like a walnut, spraying blood across the trees only to be quickly washed by the rain. His body fell swiftly, landing with a splat in the mud.
"We're at the base of the fortress." Rocky crept over to the guard and grabbed him by the vest. Pulling him into the darkness of the trees, the mix kicked some mud over the corpse for good measure. "Chase, take the front entrance. Strap will go through the side, and I'll hit the back door."
"Why am I going in from the front?" Chase rose out of the mud. "Isn't that where the most guards are?"
"Because I know if you fuck up, you'll have the best chance of shooting your way out." Said the captain, flashing his brother a dirty look. "You're quite good at that, now move."
The three quickly disbanded, breaking their formation and disappearing into the shadows. Chase took to the darkness, keeping his rifle close with the safety promptly clicked off. The front lines, he scoffed to himself, typical. Rocky wasn't completely wrong, though, but would it kill him to give it a rest sometimes? Peeking through the bushes, the front side of the fortress stood before him, and the shepherd scanning for his options.
It was massive stone archway, flooding over with a waterfall of rain draining off it. Its walls stretched out around the territory, a considerable distance before any other way in. Two guards, oblivious mutts having a conversation with one another, stood directly in front of the entrance. One of them wasn't even wearing a mask, Chase noted, just another poor sod being tossed into war. A pang of sympathy pulled Chase's heart, which he frantically shoved back down with everything he had. Ultranationalists, he told himself mentally, they're ultranationalists. Dogs with no empathy toward the lives they ruin, all guided for power. If he didn't shoot, they would, it was not hesitation he could afford to make. Shaking his head of the fog, Chase flattened his ears and watched the two.
Another crack of thunder sounded above him, the rain was coming down a little harder. The shepherd patted his nest, feeling for anything he could use to get through. He knew Rocky wanted to do this quietly, and much as he wanted to knock the place down, the captain's word was final. The thunder hit again as Chase silently took inventory of the weapons on his belt. Grenades? Absolutely not. Flashbangs? Even worse. He needed something more natural, something that wouldn't draw attention from afar. His mind wandered, flicking his eyes around for any ideas. Lightning flashed in the sky, and the thunder pound again.
An idea hit him, shining like a light in his mind. His eyes widened at the revelation, and the dog looked up at the sky, waiting for the next flash of lightning. It took a few seconds, but the streak of electricity quickly appeared above them. He narrowed his eyes and counted in his mind. One, two, three, four.
Thunder sounded, following the flash of lighting.
Chase began to raise his rifle, trying to keep his paws from shaking as he steadied himself in the bushes. Another light hit the sky, and the shepherd counted again, crosshairs centered on the two dogs. Four seconds, four seconds before the thunder hit. A terribly stupid idea, yet ridiculous enough that no one would see it coming. Holding his breath, Chase waited for the lightning again. Silence shrouded over the jungle, nothing but the rain and idle conversation of the guards drifting in the air.
Lightning flash, Chase began counting in his head. One, two, three, four. He pulled the trigger twice, firing the powerful rifle into the silence just as the thunder cracked through the sky. Two screaming bullets whiffed through the air, their approach hidden by the booming storm, tearing through the necks of the front guards. Their bodies collapsed to the mud, a crimson red mixing into the dirt. The shepherd sprang from the bushes, crossing the dirt road between them and running to the bodies. Kicking them away into the foliage, Chase shook the water off himself and entered the fortress. He stopped directly under the archway, taking a second to pull a small device off his belt, firmly attaching it to the stone wall. He pulled the pin out, and a red light began flashing, a foreboding warning of what was to come.
The main clearing of the fortress was a minefield of mud and rocks, the pathways waterlogged from the storm. A couple crates were set up off to the side, providing Chase quick cover to dive behind just as another guard walked outside. The shepherd nestled himself down, waiting for another flash of lightning.
A distant popping of gunfire was heard in the distance, startling Chase into spiking his fur. The guard in the center stopped in place, quickly snapping to attention in direction of the noise. He quickly shouted something in his radio and sprinted off, disappearing back into the building. Concern breaking his focus, Chase flattened himself to the ground. "Rocky, what the hell was that?"
"Sit tight, the guards are alerted." The captain said through the radio. "I had to go loud."
"What did you do!?" He hissed, his heartrate beginning to rise.
"I don't know... they just stopped walking and started looking around. Strap, what's your status?"
It was a second before the husky responded. "I've infiltrated the upper floor, lotta guys just ran past me, I don't know where they're going."
"Stick to the mission, I'll try to lure them away." Rocky said again.
Chase crept toward one of the doors, cracking it open with his paw. "And you said I was the reckless one."
"It was me they saw, not you two. I'll distract them the best I can, just don't do anything stupid." Came the captain's order, and a sharp haul of gunfire could be heard on his end.
Oh sure, do as he says, not as he does, Chase thought. Perhaps the window of time was more a blessing than he thought, as his ears caught the sound of several dogs running off in the opposite direction. A small grin appearing on his muzzle, he backed up from the door, seeing a new path being paved before him. "Ruff, grappling hook." He barked, his voice long unnoticeable from the number of distractions going on. The top of his backpack opened, extending out a grappling gun ready to fire. He angled his body to aim it upwards and hit the button on his gauntlet. The machine fired, blasting the hook high above the fortress. It arched over the roof, landing in the wet stone and quickly snagging on an edge. Tugging to test its stability, Chase pulled another small device from his belt, attaching it to the wall in front of him and pulling the pin.
His body was lifted up, travelling up the metal cable as if he had grown wings. The dog scaled the entire fortress in seconds, coming a slowed stop at a window. Locking the cable to keep him steady, he looked through the glass for any direct threats. Seeing that there weren't any, Chase firmly kicked off the windowsill, launching him backward, only for gravity to swing him back forward. Crossing his arms in front of his face, Chase braced himself and charged at the window with all his body weight, smashing through the glass and breaching the room. Unclipping the cable, the shepherd rolled off the floor and jumped into position, looking around the dark room. "I'm in. Strap, where are you?"
"Second floor. Are you on the third?"
"I'll come down to meet you. Give me... two minutes, if I don't need to shoot anything in my way."
"Don't waste your time." Strap said. "There's no one left in here, except for one, meet me downstairs."
Before he made a move, the shepherd reached for his belt and pulled out another small device. He attached it to the wall and pulled the pin, grinning at the blinking red light. Chase swept the rooms around him, moving silently on the aged wood flooring and clearing each corridor only to find no one. "Rocky, you still alive?" He asked into his radio, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Well I hope so!" His captain shouted into his radio. "Like three squads are on me in the forest, I'm trying to pick them off one by one!"
"What did you do to piss them off?"
"Shove it, Chase! Just complete the mission."
Rolling his eyes at Rocky's antics, Chase took a final sweep of the floor and moved downstairs. Another crack of thunder sounded overhead as he stalked down the stone stairs, leaving muddy footprints trailing behind him. He was prepared to do another sweep when he spotted a famaliar huddled against the wall.
"Uh, Strap?" He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "What're you doing?"
The husky whipped around, hushing him. "Shh!" He beckoned with his paw to approach, then turned back to the wall. Confused at his friend's position, Chase walked over to him.
"Look." Strap whispered, shifting out of the way. There was a hole in the wall, so small it was barely noticeable, yet capable of exposing the entire room behind it. Chase closed one eye and looked through, taking in an interesting sight. It was a communication room, from where he could see, several tables were set up with dozens of bulky radios, all lacing around the floor with mile-long cables.
A Doberman was hunched over one of the microphones, speaking with a shaky voice. "None of them have answered back to me. We've finished building roughly half the components you asked for. There is only so much we can do with what was left!"
Someone on the other line replied back, but the audio was too far for Chase to hear it. "Burton, you read me?" He whispered. "There's a dog using a radio in here, can you intercept the frequency?"
Burton responded swiftly. "On it. Precise location to narrow in on?"
"Second floor, west side."
The retriever sprang into action, focusing his connection on the spoken direction and typing away. "Give me a second... okay! I've got it."
"Can you patch us in?" Chase muttered, eyes still fixated on the doberman.
"Yep, stand by."
"No one say a word, we're on a live connection here." The shepherd quickly hissed to his radio.
After a short time, the private conversation was linked into radios, perfectly broadcasting every word being spoken. All four dogs quickly hushed up, muting their microphones to not give away their position.
The Doberman spoke again. "You have our servitude, Kolechi." He said, uncertainty peeking through his voice. "But are you really going to put so much faith in this third party?"
"They possess things that we do not." Kolechi's grizzly voice was heard. Chase and Strap kept still, listening intently. Even Rocky quickly dove down from the action to listen in. The terrorist leader continued, "once we have made our transaction, I expect to break all ties from them. I know Dutch's game; I could read it on his stupid face. He won't get to me, I'm better than that."
"So where do we go from here?" The guard asked.
"Bring the weapons back to our fleet. We're making way for London."
London? Chase raised an eyebrow, sneaking a puzzled look to Strap. Alarm spread before them both, realizing the full-scale invasion. They'd have to prepare to move out within hours; Rocky was already seconds away from sending a silent alarm back home to the ACG.
The guard relaxed slightly, lowering his guard. "Are we taking the palace?"
"No." Kolechi said. "I have an 'in' with a human. They've passed me an ease of access; we'll walk right in. And with the weapons the foundation gave us, they will be helpless to resist us."
Chase and Strap were so into the conversation they didn't realize they were standing in full view of a wooden door. It swung open with no warning, two guards entering the hallway. They were talking absently when they both spotted the two, freezing up with surprise. Chase snapped his attention, eyes widening like a deer in headlights.
"Hey!!" The guard shouted down the hallway, drawing his gun. Strap was quick to react, drawing his sidearm in sheer panic and messily firing into their bodies. The bullets tore their flesh and sprayed blood behind them, the snapping the gunshots bouncing all throughout the fortress.
The Doberman heard it almost immediately, whipping at the wall behind him and shutting off the call. "All units! Enemy soldiers in the fortress!!" He barked into the loudspeaker.
"Shit." Chase said flatly.
"Rocky we're compromised!!" Strap yelled. "Going loud, did you hear what the-"
"Yeah I did." The captain said quickly. "London, Buckingham Palace, I got it. We have mere hours to stop them, get out of there!"
Burton's panicked bark echoed through the line. "Chase, Strap! Dozens of soldiers coming out of the forest, they're heading your way!"
"We'll have to shoot our way out!" Strap said, barking over the commotion. He turned his rifle to the stairway. "They're coming up the stairs!"
Blinking to himself, Chase stiffened and reached for his vest, pulling out a detonator. "No we won't."
"What!?"
"Get down!" The shepherd shouted, hitting the button.
Across the territory, a low beeping could be heard from various corners, suddenly increasing in frequency. Several explosions suddenly ignited, erupting into destructive force that shredded through the walls and shattered through the floors. Flames and shockwaves went in all directions, sending shredding debris through the old building. Some walls collapsed onto one another, forming a domino effect that made the structure rock.
Picking himself up quickly from where he was thrown, Chase jerked Strap back to his paws. "I enjoyed the trip, Rocky, but we. Are. Leaving!!" He loudly declared. Shaking his head of the dazed feeling, his husky companion came to his senses, opening fire into the flames where enemy soldiers ran in panic. They fled the fortress quickly before it could crumble onto itself, the explosions a quick but perfect cover to make their escape.
"Rocky!" Chase shouted as he ran, watching his captain emerge from the trees and sprint alongside them. The three charged through the jungle, scrambling as if their tails were on fire. "What's our next move!?"
"London, we have no other choice!" The mix said. "Kolechi's there, we have to stop him before he seizes the palace!"