〈The No. 2 Landfill Island Group mainly contains academic and research buildings. It’s practically deserted at night. We’ll take down the targets before they leave the area. The client has received authorization from the government to utilize heavy weapons. There won’t be any caps on our firepower.〉
The list of approved weapons that got sent around was overkill, considering they were just capturing five hIEs. Japan was no longer allergic to the military like it had been one hundred years ago. But the kind of firepower the client was authorizing was insane, especially given that they would be fighting within spitting distance of a residential area. The equipment list didn’t match up with the details of the mission, which meant that their intel was incomplete.
Sest felt a sharp sting of tension run up the back of his neck. “Youssef, can you give me the intel from the client again?”
Youssef, the team’s French-African operator, tapped his console’s keys with bony, flexible fingers. “All the escaped hIEs are female models,” he said. “Each has specialized equipment. That’s all we’ve got so far, if you can call that ‘intel.’ If this was all the info it took to win wars, I doubt anyone since the dawn of time would have lost a battle due to lack of data.”
Sest checked the countdown timer on his retinal display. It had already been five minutes since their helicopter had entered Tokyo airspace. “Put down the container,” he ordered. “While we get the ground unit up and running, I’m sure the major will be negotiating for some more information.”
The research park had few residential buildings and wide, straight roads that were currently devoid of life. At the client’s request, even ambulances and fire trucks were being prevented from approaching the area.
The pilot aimed the helicopter for a lonely street, illuminated with pools of white light from the streetlamps, and dropped the container from about twenty meters up. There was an explosive burst of gas from underneath as the container, which was about the size of two standard international shipping containers, came to land.
Inside the container were two squads of combat drones. Each combat squad in the PMC was comprised of eleven units, same as a standard squad in the US Army. So, between the two squads in the container there were twenty-two drones, each equipped with military-grade armaments. Between them, they could easily turn a little area like Odaiba into a sea of flames.
At a request from the container’s AI, the helicopter automatically dropped a sensor unit. Sixty-four disposable camera units flew out from the central mother unit and began to swarm around like flying insects, gathering images of the area.
Sixty-four palm-sized screens opened up on the 3D display in the command center. No humans were picked up on any of the screens, so the operations area ‘all clear’ notification lit up on the screen.
The No. 2 Landfill Island Group used to be known as the ‘Central Breakwater Outer Landfill Site.’ It had been the first place the rubble from the Hazard, which had taken place forty-two years ago, had been sent. That fact had given it a bad reputation, so no one wanted to use it as a residential area. It was well suited for combat.
Five forms were picked out by the image recognition filter. A zoomed-in image slid into the middle of the display.
“Our sensors have the targets,” Sest, who had participated in countless military operations, announced. What he saw out there, running through the night-darkened research park, were five lights of different colors, and five girls, each one like a work of art. For a moment, he forgot that he was currently on a battlefield, in combat.
“The ‘special equipment’ the intel mentioned must be these things,” Youssef said, zooming in on the image. The hIEs were each in a suit lit by a different color; red, green, yellow, orange, and one that was bright white. Each of them also carried some kind of large, strange tool.
The HOO combat drones commenced their mission, spreading out from their cubic container. Sest watched their movements through the screen. The two-meter long drones used the terrain of the wide road to conceal themselves. Wheeled heavy artillery drones lurked behind a vanguard of humanoid drones, waiting for their hunt to begin. The frontmost line was made up of floating, mobile smart-mines.
The PMC’s behavioral cloud moved all its puppets smoothly. Unlike the hIEs, which were built to endear themselves to humans, the military drones had been designed to harm them. But the basic concept of their behavioral patterns was the same; they were to select the optimal behavior to complete the objectives they had been given.
“Advance the vanguard to seventy meters from the targets, then engage with two rounds of smart mines,” Sest commanded. “Then I want the tank drones to lay down concentrated fire, starting with the unit closest to the targets. The vanguard will hold the line, and the rear guard will react to the targets’ movements.”
Sest was a soldier, born and raised. The battlefield was his home. The behavior cloud interpreted his instructions, and maneuvered his drone squad. The drones approached their targets, gathering information as they moved.
Then it happened.
One of the hIEs, a young girl with her red hair tied back in twin tails, looked directly into one of the cameras and flashed a dazzling smile. Then she started running. The helicopter was running dark and silent, with its lights out and optical camouflage on, but she headed straight for it.
Goosebumps ran up Sest’s muscular arm. His instincts screamed at him to not let her get close. “Thomas! Get the heli away from that red kid. All units, don’t let her take a single step past the defensive line!”