Editing City Series:Volume6c Chapter2 (section)

===Part 5===

Hazel had moved from the flagship to the RB-21 after the second alarm sounded. She was now rubbing her aching head while working inside the container carried by the RB-21 after it left the squadron.

The cold and endlessly shaking container was a block of shielded armor panels 5 yards high, 7 yards wide, and more than 20 yards long.

She was facing the enormous knee joint of a black male Heavy Barrel. It belonged to the Schwarz Löwe. She was performing maintenance on it.

“I haven’t seen him in forever and he puts me right to work.”

There were two things inside the container. The first was Schwarz Löwe and the second was a boxy metal frame sitting on drop-off guardrails. The four corners of the frame had parachutes attached and the bottom had a buffering structure welded on, but what mattered was on the inside. It contained a 750cc BMW motorcycle with sidecar the AIF had stolen from the German military. It also contained Hazel and Berger’s luggage.

This part of the mission would be complete once that was dropped off on a mountain road and they jumped down with it.

“Or that was the plan anyway.”

Once she finished her work, Hazel sighed and placed the wrench on a wall hanger. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped off her sweat.

She felt unusually hot, so she looked down and found she was still in her dress uniform.

The sleeves of the jacket and shirt were stained with oil.

But she decided not to worry about it.

She wiped the sweat from her neck and loosened the jacket’s collar to help her cool herself down.

She felt better doing something than just sitting around waiting to be dropped off.

…''I can forget about that nightmare and stop worrying.

“Okay, I’m finally ready to go.” Berger emerged from Schwarz Löwe’s back, wiping some oil from his cheek. “You’ll see what I mean if you lie down on the floor, but whoever’s pursuing us is having a lot of fun doing it. They started firing below the ship when they realized we were going to drop something off.”

“Can we fire back?”

“We are, but it’s not much help. The kind of bullets a transport ship’s equipped with can’t even scratch a warship’s armor.”

“Th-then does that mean we can’t be dropped off?”

Berger smiled a little and turned toward the internal phone on the wall.

“These people know how to have some fun for German soldiers, so we’re gonna play along.” He picked up the phone. “Hazel, get inside the sidecar and curl up.”

“Is there nothing else I can do?”

“Just one thing: obey every instruction you receive from me, the second cleverest guy in the world. Do it immediately and without delay.”

She nodded and walked toward the drop-off frame. The ship was shaking so much she couldn’t even hear her own footsteps.

…''It’s like my legs are tingling.

The enemy shots were hitting nearby.

She realized now just how leisurely a pace she had taken in completing the maintenance earlier.

Corelle’s voice arrived over a shipwide announcement.

“Attention container personnel. We have no choice but to leave this airspace and-”

“Hold on, Corelle! Their mission is only to pursue us. I don’t know why that is, but how long do you think until he interception unit arrives?”

“We’re already picking them up on radar. They will be too close for us to escape in 2 minutes 30 seconds.”

“Which means those ships behind us will leave after 2 minutes and 30 seconds. That settles it,” declared Berger. “Make an accelerated ascent with the container door open. Once the enemy is lured in by that, we’ll launch the frame with all we’ve got.”

“And how will that help?”

“We’ll soar right over their heads.”

Hearing that, Hazel came to a stop partway through climbing over one of the frame’s poles.

“Um, Berger.”

“Why do you look so worried? We can get down to the surface. You should look happier.”

“I was kind of hoping not to die yet.”

“Then you’re in luck because you get to live for another 2 minutes at least. So you aren’t dying yet. Anyway, once we’re launched, we can land behind them. And aerial ships can’t make a 180 right away. It’s like a game.”

“A game?” she asked.

“They win if they can keep us from dropping until they pass the baton to that other force. We win if we can drop to the surface. Get it know, Hazel Mirildorf?” Then he spoke into the phone. “Corelle, this is in your hands now. Climb high enough for us to launch far enough. As a mercenary, I don’t want this mission to end in failure. …And we can still pull it off. This is destiny.”

He hung up.

Hazel noticed something when she saw him approaching the frame.

There was no concern of fear in his face or Lives. That meant this would be fine.

So a look of relief came to her own face.

He placed his hand on the frame and tilted his head.

“You’re smiling. Did the tension finally drive you insane? Guess it was bound to do that eventually.”

“No!” she shouted back, but he was no longer looking her way. His expression made it clear they didn’t have much time.

He silently reached a hand inside the frame, removed the bandolier attached between the sidecar and motorcycle, and pulled out a light machinegun. It was a German heavy weapon known as an MG 34.

“What are you doing with that?”

He attached the weapon’s barrel with practiced hand while he replied.

“Once the container door opens, the enemy ship’ll be right there. I can’t guarantee anything, but this might come in handy.” He sat down on the frame and attached a drum magazine to the MG 34. “Also, we can’t forget our personal parachutes.”

There were two white cloth packages similar to pillows hanging on wall latches.

He walked over to them while Hazel fastened her seatbelt. And…

“Is there really nothing I can do?”

“Hm…oh, I know. You see those three buttons on the wall? You can operate them.”

“They say ‘virtual and physical ay door controls’ and ‘drop-off lift control’.”

“Yeah, and I can’t operate them with my legs stuck below the machinegun. Can you reach?”

She reached her hand to the side. The seatbelt dug painfully into her shoulders, but her fingers reached the buttons outside the frame.

“I can.”

Then the container shook like it had been struck.

…''Artillery?

Her question was answered by Corelle, not Berger who was over at the wall removing the parachutes.

“We’ve started our ascent, so it’s time to do this! Berger, if you’re not all talk, you’d better be ready!”

“Oh, shut up.” Berger fought the shaking and had a definite smile in his voice. “Now, Hazel, do it in this order: the top green button is the safety. It activates the virtual door. Press that and then the red button below it to open the physical door. Then press the bottom green button to launch us.”

“Got it.”

She pressed the buttons in the exact order he had asked. And, with his back still turned, Berger said one more thing.

“So do that once I say ‘go’, okay?”

“Eh?”

She heard the wind roaring.

She looked back. The container door was open and the sheet of light known as the virtual door had appeared past it. The virtual door prevented any pressure difference, so there was no powerful blast of wind.

But when she looked ahead again, she found Berger looking back in obvious surprise.

“Hey! Hazel! What did you do!?”

“U-um, exactly what you told me to?”

“Why would you do it right away?”

“You told me to obey all of your instructions ‘immediately and without delay’!”

The roar from behind her was so loud it nearly drowned out her voice and light shined into the container. The pursuing ship was shining a searchlight on the ascending RB-21.

Berger removed the two parachutes from the wall and ran over to her.

“Hazel! Get out of there!”

She frantically worked at her seatbelt.

“!?”

But then she smelled explosives.

The next thing she knew, Berger was vanishing into the distance ahead of her.

A painful pressure pushed forward at her as she was accelerated backwards. The view around her changed, as did the temperature and so much more.

She had left the cramped container and entered the wide open sky. She had been launched into the empty night along with the frame.