Cyber Rats

Green lightning rumbled across the perpetually dark skies. Rain showered from above and bathed the filthy city in its dews, soaking the buildings' rooftops wet and flooding the gutters and streets with murky water. Even as the storm raged, the activity in the Intramuros Cyber Valley had never ceased. Lights coming from business establishments and corporate buildings were still blinding, even from afar. The streets were choked both with foot traffic and cars, heading off to various destinations. New Manila, despite being frequented by seasonal typhoons, had never truly sleep.

Brown glowing cyberoptics remained fixated on the lively city below behind a bulletproof transparent wall. The observer's hands were clasped behind his back, his posture rigid and the air around him emanated authority. His military uniform solidified his status as an agent of the government. His cold and calculated movements were telltale signs that the man had once been a grunt; and despite being transferred out to a more peaceful and mundane task for good, his old habits never died.

For many, he was a pariah; a former ruthless killer that will never be trusted by society, especially if they learned of his past as a Flatliner--a cybernetic grunt of the Enclave Authority and a foot soldier of the Armed Forces of New Manila. He had done many questionable things in the past that would make a grown man cry even just by listening.

But even with the infamous feats written all over his demeanour and features, the youthpunks in black and orange ballistic jackets sitting behind him were not afraid. For them, he was just another "pig", a slave of the government who likes to stop the fun and a potential client. Blue strips of LED tapes lined the lapels and sleeves of their stylized jackets, flashing in a strobe every three seconds. The youthpunks did not bother to turn it off, just to piss the man looking out the window.

The leading youthpunk seated at the head of the table was simply called by his streetname, 'Blackout', due to his work style related usually with deactivation of electronics and portable devices. His right hand man--or rather, woman, was a former American Megacity Trooper who was left behind by her peers back in the days of the Great Unload, mistaken for dead. Genetically modified to possess strength, accelerated cell regeneration and slowed aging process, she was the only western-looking of all the people present, with a long blonde hair, green eyes and red lips. The dogtag hanging around her neck indicated that her name was 'Daryll Pris', but the inscription was redacted by a vertical slash from a knife.

Now she operates by the name of 'Valerie'.

Opposite her was a masked youthpunk; his face was obscured by a black visor. He was the strong arm of the group, and also the most dangerous looking. His arms were installed with retractable knife blades; in addition to his complement of melee weapons was the large bowie knife sheathed over his left thigh. A pair of orange and blue polymer tri shots were holstered around his utility belt.

And the last man in the crew was a techie with a spiked mohawk, red mirror shades and a small computer strapped over his left forearm. Both of his weapons--a customized Fireblade Bayonet knife and a Chrome-10 RPF--glowed in iridescent colors that shifts from white, blue and green. The lights of both weapons could also be killed with a command from his computer. Currently, his mirror shades displayed SocMed feeds to his eyes...as well as nasty things.

"What are we here for?" Blackout asked with an impatient tone. "You're arresting us for that blackout in Hyacinth Village? Or that advert-vandalism in the facade of that Water Plus Corporation branch building? Or the defacement of AmaterasuTECH's web domain?"

"None," the old man simply said. His hard voice echoed across the room that silenced everyone. His eyes just observed the scenery below. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"What?" The masked youthpunk asked. "Never seen a city from above before, 'tanda'?"

"You're making me laugh, 'bata', the view was much more beautiful when viewed from the Tower." The old man nodded at the Isko Moreno Tower in the horizon.

"I am pretty sure we didn't come here to hear you appreciate the view in sixty nine degrees. What is it that you truly want?" Blackout asked again.

"I heard from my connections that you are a good Cyber Rat crew." He turned, revealing a scarred face marred with cybernetic implants--from cyberoptics to scalp helmet jacks. It gave him a scary appearance that made the crew drop their rude demeanour.

"Holy shit, grandpops. You've fought a lawn mower?" The masked youthpunker asked.

"Enough with the witty chitchats, Pyro." The man said. The youthpunker turned to Blackout.

"How'd he know my name?"

"The Enclave Authority has eyes and ears everywhere. Nothing escapes our attention within the city." He cleared his throat. "Let's get down to business now. I have places that I needed to go to."

Blackout gestured at Pyro to calm down.

"Business? So you need a scapegoat again?" Blackout asked.

"Watch your tone, boy." The old man said. "I am Flatliner 11503-23 Madrigal and I represent the Authority for External Affairs and Public Relations."

"Maybe in the Day of 'Kamatayan', it'd be fitting." Pyro added.

"Will you shut up?" Valerie finally said.

"Thank you, 'iha'." Madrigal said in gratitude. "How familiar are you of the Siege in Gertrude Hotel?"

"You mean the hostage taking?" Blackout asked. "Well, it's been happening for four days now. A bunch of anti-corpo terrorists had taken hostage of the guests, most of which were SocMed vlog-fluencers. Fancy spoiled kids had it coming, I guess." Blackout grinned. "We're busy doing our own shit."

"The Enclave Authority requires your assistance, Blackout." Madrigal finally said. The youthpunk stared at him with an icy glare.

"And what kind of assistance?"

"The Authority will make it worth your while, my friend." Madrigal assured as his left eye flashed in red and uploaded a file to Blackout's smartphone, which rang shortly. The youthpunk retrieved the phone from his belt and thumbed it open. "As a down payment, we've paid 50,000 Philippine digi-creds. An additional 150,000 more will be arriving in full if you accomplish our task."

Blackout grinned.

"It's early Christmas, huh?" He glanced at Pyro and Valerie, then back at Madrigal. "I guess we wouldn't be doing dirty gangpunk and rebel work for a while."

"If we like what you did, then you might not find yourself doing so anymore. The Enclave Authority wanted to extend its influence into the Cyberpipes, in, out and around the secured SocMed cyberspace."

"Listen, I appreciate the offer but we're not the right Cyber Rat Crew for that." Blackout said. "And--"

"No, you're not going to do any Pipe Hacking for us." Madrigal countered. "I've read your file, alright, as well as your MPU records, crimes, habits, hell even Peep Tom's porno subscriptions." He glanced at the idled hacker. "You're combat oriented, alright, and a damn good one. We need your expertise. Think of this as a test."

"We're good with doing the job you're offering right now but I don't know about the future--"

"Are you kidding me, Blackout?!" Pyro asked. "He may looked like your metallic Christmas boogeyman but he was being fucking generous! We don't get to receive that much kindness from the other gangpunks or corpo-whores!"

"For once, I will agree with him." Madrigal said. "And you are fighting for your country. Where is 'your' patriotism?"

Blackout paused.

"Okay...for life convenience's sake, why the hell not?" Blackout said. "What's the gig?"

"The 'gig' is Gertrude Hotel." Madrigal began. "So you know about the hostage taking--hell it took the SocMed by frenzy as the darlings and pretty boys suffered all the 'punishment' badly broadcasted live. Minor Police Units were dispatched multiple times but got slaughtered. Normally, we would have sent Enclave Flatliners or Holoshifters to take care of the matter, but the fact that SocMed personalities are 'corporate properties', many opportunities present itself to make the Authority's image look bad to the people. I'm talking about willful self-mutilation and the like to put the blame on us."

"Fucking SocMed vlog-fluencers." Pyro spat. "All for the sake of money."

"It's not like they have a choice." Madrigal said. "What say you, iha?"

Valerie shot him a wide-eyed look.

"I...uhm--" she stuttered but Blackout held a hand up so that she wouldn't have to suffer an awkward scene.

"So you're sending us to take them out?"

"No," Madrigal replied again. "You are very undermanned and ill-equipped. You think your pistols will do something against their Megacity-grade armors?"

"Megacity-grade?" Valerie asked.

"I forgot, she's a former Megacity Trooper." Blackout said. "We found her in some abandoned street in Quezon City and decided to join us."

"Interesting..." Madrigal said. "Your job is to infiltrate the building, cut the powers off and escape unseen. A Flatliner DarkOps Team will engaged the bastards under the cover of darkness to eliminate the terrorists. They, too, will remain unseen." Madrigal leaned back. "I must warn you that you should not be seen by the DarkOps to avoid being 'accidentally' killed."

"A Night Eagle?" Blackout said, the colloquial name of a DarkOps Flatline Team. "Alright, let's do this."

"Here's the blueprints of the hotel, and the personnel involved with the hostage taking." Madrigal said. Blackout received them all in his smartphone...

-

Gertrude Hotel

In the back alley of the hotel, they walked with LEDs deactivated. The walls that flanked them were heavily vandalized with graffiti and smelt of piss, puke, dried blood and a stench that resulted with the combination of the three. They walked past a sleeping hobo leaning against a green dumpster and it seemed to them that the man wouldn't be waking up any time sooner even when the firing started.

Above them, a gantry could be seen, which leads to the fire exits of the floors itself. The curtains seen from inside the windows looked luxurious, made of shiny silk that only the fancy boys and corpo-whores could afford. Blackout grinned; he might have a great time sight-seeing inside. They stopped before a roll-down ladder that could only be activated through a push button located on the gantry above them. It was too high to be reached.

"Let me handle this." Peep Tom said as he raised his forearm computer and began pressing icons. "Buildings like these have everything automated, from doors to blenders--hell, even the guests' dildos were connected to the main network ports. Accessing it through a backdoor was easy as breathing, especially if you've got an intrusion prog loaded." After he concluded his sentence, the button above beeped and dropped the ladder for them.

"Good job, Tom." Blackout said as he began climbing up. "We're entering hostile territory, I want all guns drawn with safeties off."

"I should be leading you guys." Pyro said, itching to spill blood.

"As soon as we get to the damn basement." Blackout said. "But to do so, we've got to deactivate the security surveillance on the fifth floor, then fight our way to the elevator and finally, move to the basement."

"Got any plan for extraction?" Valerie asked, she was the last one to ascend.

"Yeah, back the way we came." Blackout said. "I've got a device that could buy us enough time to escape once the shit hits the fan."

"Alright then, Captain." Valerie said as they began to ascend the second gantry. They moved precaution and haste, careful not to stand in front of the windows in fear of casting shadows and possibly alerting those whoever was inside. Peep Tom had his cyber-auditory implants activated and eavesdropped on every floors they passed to. The implant was wirelessly connected to the brainchips or ear pieces of the team, with permission, so that whatever he hears, they also hear.

"It's too quiet." Pyro said while Peep Tom tapped and drag icons across his computer.

"Listen to this." The hacker invaded someone's smartphone and everything within recording reach was redirected to his ears and to the senses of his teammates. They listened carefully.

"Please," a youthpunk lady pleaded. "Please stop! Pleas--uhm, uhm, ugh!"

"Okay, that just got fucking nasty." Blackout said as they arrived at their destination. "Don't hesitate to kill the fuckers. They'd be dead anyway." He drew out his handgun, cocked its slide and approached the green door.

He turned the knob open and entered inside. The hallway before them stretched to the north and west. It was brightly lit and cold. The scented walls were coated with a cream-colored wallpaper. Golden ornaments where fluorescent lights were perched could be seen along the walls in a regular interval. The floors were carpeted in red, free of dust and dirt. Blackout genuflected with his gun still pointed ahead while Pyro, to the left. Peep Tom and Valerie entered completely, the last woman in the stack closing the door gently.

"Forward!" Blackout ordered as they moved across the hallway with complete haste. The environment had took him by surprise--it was just his first time to see something so clean and orderly that he wanted to cry or scream. Pure euphoria invaded his heart and he wanted to stop and savor the surroundings even for a moment.

They arrived at a lounge with glass tables and gold cushioned sofas. Peep Tom detected sounds from the sofa, which prompted the Cyber Rats Crew to turn with their weapons raised, only to see SocMed vlog-fluencer stars that, in their eyes, appeared like gods and goddesses. They looked perfect and angelic that Blackout couldn't believe he was looking at them in person.

"Shit, I take back what I said back in the precinct." Blackout said as he glanced at Pyro. "Women like these should be protected!"

In front of them, youthpunks around their age sat on the couch with their hands bound behind their backs, mouths sealed with industrial flexitapes used for Battle Walker 'first-aid' repair. They wore signature clothes that were only bought and sold within the San Miguel Corporate Zone. To be seen wearing one was a status symbol among those living outside the CZ.

But for these fancy brats, they're wearing it everyday.

"Hey, you!" A voice called from ahead.

Their hearts almost stop when they saw a kev-masked man with a green shemagh wrapped around his neck, chest equipped with iron-fabric tactical vest with holsters filled with Noryuki Armory FN-6 Light rifle magazines. From the eye holes of his black kevlar faceplate that depicted a snarling Japanese Oni, orange lights glowed--telltale signs of cyberoptics. The man raised his rifle with wooden stock tucked underneath his left arm.

Blackout took aim at the man's left knee and opened fire. The terrorist hit the ground with a yell; he turned at Pyro and shouted a command.

"Go in for the kill!" He yelled.

The merc engaged his right forearm knife and charged with drug-addled speed; his altered perception returned to normal after he reached his destination. The terrorist failed to react on time as the narcotic-laced killer impaled his neck twice like a savage maniac.

"What the fuck was that noise!?" A man called from behind, prompting Valerie to turn around with her Chrome-10 raised. She fired at the easiest target among the two, her imported cybernetic implant that housed a sapient artificial intelligence uploaded a mild virus to the second one's cyberoptics, which disoriented him.

From his static-filled point of view, he watched his companion dropped dead quietly on the rug. He tried to aim at the woman with trembling hands, but struggled to because of the virus that now affected his cybernetic limbs. She was nowhere to be found.

With a Fireblade Bayonet drawn, Valerie drilled the tip of the knife against the terrorist's neck twice before giving him an elbow to the face. She walked back to her team, next to Tom, who was now working with his computer.

"I'm gonna jam the chumboys' bio signals. The bastards were connected to some fucking Monitor, who keep tabs on things."

"Hurry up with your shit fancy moves! I hear them around the corner!" Blackout yelled.

"Alright, alright!" Tom replied as he tapped the final icon. "Done! Still radar silence as if no one dropped dead, but we better be quick. Someone's gonna find these asshats for sure."

"Let's move then!" Pyro yelled and led the team ahead, leaving the lounge and entering another corridor that branched to the left this time.

Beyond, a trio of guards were busy trading porno holo cards with one another. They were busy with their transactions that they failed to detect the Cyber Rats Crew closing in. Beside was the door to the surveillance room--their destination.

Blackout rushed at the easiest target among the three and sent a punch at his face. The others immediately turned but were shot as their attackers approached in a pointblank range. The disoriented terrorists were confused as static invaded their vision and their hands jerked and trembled for no reason while receiving bullets all over their bodies. The group executed them with knife kills.

"What was that--?!" The door to the surveillance room opened and found Blackout punching his buddy to death. The Cyber Rat rolled with a gun aimed, facing him, and fired a shot aimed at the man's neck.

"Had I known, I would have requested some armor piercers." Blackout stood up from the floor and entered the room. His immediate view was greeted by a multi-screened computer that displayed the scenery taking place within the hotel premises. The third and second floor, where the two adjoining main hall area was located was where the bulk of the terrorists are located, weapons aimed at the cowering SocMed stars in gala outfits. A floor below, the Ground Floor, was a heavily fortified fortress, while the Basement was ignored. The floor above the sixth floor, was currently controlled by the hotel's security and occasionally, there were brushfire gunfights between the two sides. He could see one of them radioing for help to whoever corporate-whore that employed them.

Blackout primed a small rectangular electronic device with a press of a button and connected it to the CPU's flash drive slot through its in-built plug. A horizontal loading bar appeared in the main screen before it blinked twice and finally died.

"Tom, can you isolate them?" Blackout asked.

"Way ahead of you." The hacker said. "Chumboys ain't be hearing each other as if they were quarantined within ten-centimeter thick walls."

"Good to know." Blackout nodded as he walked out of the room and grabbed an FN-6 Light rifle from one of the dead bodies. "I heard some of these are armored piercers. We could just simply ditch this later on."

"Or keep it." Pyro protested. "You touch one of that and the Flatliners found it, you might see yourself staring at their gun barrel's end."

"You don't trust the Enclave Authority?" Blackout asked as he pocketed three magazines.

"Why the hell would I?"

"Well, you're vouching for Madrigal back at the precinct."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean I trust them completely. I do trust that they will fill our pockets full of money."

"Enough the chit-chat. We've got a job to do." Valerie snapped as she cocked the rifle in a well-practiced manner.

The four moved across the hallway, their destination was the elevator lifts at the distance. A pair of patrolling terrorists appeared at the end, walking in brisk paces. Blackout and the others took aim and opened fire. The first one was instantly ravaged while the other one immediately recoiled back to where they came from. The terrorist peeked back and let loose a shot, hitting Pyro in the left shoulder. The Cyber Rat cursed and rushed him. Blackout provided suppression fire for his buddy, forcing the terrorist to hide back.

When he peeked again, Pyro's bowie knife split his head in half, splattering the walls and carpet with red.

They arrived at the elevator lift without incident. Valerie frantically pressed the downward button, earning a glance from Peep Tom.

"Go easy on the pad, you're gonna break it." He said.

But his words fell on deaf ears. She stopped when the lift finally parted open, revealing a lone terrorist smoking a chem-hash.

"Hey," he greeted. "You want some joint?"

The crew entered; Pyro accepted the smoke and puffed it. He gave it back before giving him a nasal-crushing punch. As he fell to the floor, the elevator began descending downwards.

"This was the most ridiculous op that we took so far." Peep Tom said as he pulled his hair guiltily.

"It's fine by me." Pyro replied when the elevator doors opened and revealed a dark secluded area. Based on the blueprints provided by Madrigal, the basement was located underneath the parking lot. They stepped out of the lift and was caught by the area's very warm embrace. The sound of industrial generators running could be heard in the background, as well as the hearth that kept the coal generator online. They moved across the small and humid area towards a brightly lit computer room with walls that were constructed out of transparent glass.

"I've never seen such a sysroom before." Peep Tom said. "Have you, Pyro?"

"No," Pyro said. "This place never failed to amuse me."

"You and I both, brother." Blackout said and nodded towards the small number pad on the door. "Peep Tom, will you do the honor?"

"Sure," Peep Tom said and worked with his portable computer. It took him a few seconds before the door beeped open. Blackout entered inside and was surprised by the room's very cold temperature. The crew entered and stopped before a modular mainframe computer comprising of multiple CPUs, customized consoles and monitors that displayed modified graphical user interface. Even for the Cyber Rats Crew, the operating system was too advanced.

But lucky for them, all it needed was just the personal touch from Blackout.

"This device was set to shut everything down inside this establishment within five minutes. It was enough time to buy us precious seconds to escape and for the Night Eagles to do their thing." Blackout said as he primed his small, red, rectangular device. The small indicator light located on its body lit in green, telling him that it was ready. "Time to jack in."

He connected the in-built wire to the main CPU and pressed the 'OK' button on the console. A horizontal bar appeared, which would fill up exactly five minutes from now.

"Okay, we're set. Go, go, go!" Blackout yelled as they bolted out of the system room and towards the elevator lift.

Valerie frantically pressed the up button until they ascended back to the fifth floor. The elevator doors opened and revealed the same exact scene just like when they first left it. The Cyber Rats Crew sprinted out of the lift and across the corridor, hoping that no one would see them. They moved past the lounge where the bound vlog-fluencers moaning in despair to take them in but the sounds fell on deaf ears as the crew made its way back to the door where they entered.

Valerie closed the door while Blackout and Pyro were on to the stairs that will lead to the gantry below. Peep Tom followed them, and finally, her in tow until they reached the last one and descended with haste. By the time their boots hit the pavement, Blackout's smartphone rang. He lifted it up to his face and saw that the progress of his device was nearing its completion...

...until the lights of the building went out.

"Time to move out." Blackout said once more as screams and gunfire began to erupt from the walls of the premises.

-

The DarkOps Flatliners blew up the front entrance when the lights within the establishment went out. The Minor Police Units, which were secretly employed by the Enclave Authority, kept the media vultures and curious on-lookers at bay while the deployed false scenery projection displayed a looped video of MPU SWAT teams preparing to entering the building. Apparently, no one noticed it.

But through the holographic disguise, it was actually the DarkOps Flatliners in Type-2 Spiker Exterminator Armors entering the buildings--if the regular Flatliner Teams are bad enough, they are worse. The DarkOps Flatliners are the sadistic version of your regular Flatliner Team. Armed with Kali-Hellstorm rifles loaded with antipersonnel smartbullets, the DarkOps, in nature, are not very nice people.

They entered the entrance like they owned the building. The green eye lenses of their helmets made them look like monsters prowling in the dark. The terrorists scattered in the lobby fired at the moving lights but ended up failing to hit anything but empty space. The defenders ended up hitting the floor when the DarkOps opened fire and pierced their armors' weakpoints. The Flatliners moved like spectres towards the elevator and ascended.

They visited a corridor full of sentries and left it with nothing but spent cases and cadavers. The Flatliners advanced towards criss-crossing hallways, dropping bodies to be stored in bags for later until they finally arrive at the second floor's main hall. The tables and catering buffets were flipped and arranged tactically in favor of the defenders, now that shots were fired and blood were spilled within the hotel building. At the sight of the green lights travelling from afar, the terrorists opened fire and evoked screams and yells from the frightened captives.

The Flatliners moved out of the way. One of them was hit but did not uttered a yell or a word. He simply got back up and rejoined the fray when his teammates opened fire and virtually wiped out every single one of the combatants.

Digital messages appeared on the HUD screens of the Flatliners. They ascended the staircase that led to the third floor and engaged more terrorists holed up on the upper floor. The Flatliners paid the whimpering corpos no heed as they clear out the area. One of the terrorists threw his weapon on the floor and held his hands up.

But Flatliners had no intentions of taking him in. His body was filled with holes before it dropped to the floor.

Wordlessly, they advanced towards the fourth floor. The terrorists have no way out now. They huddled in one area in hopes of destroying the attackers with all they've got. As soon as the green dancing lights appeared into view from the corridor farther ahead, bullets were exchanged and bodies fell like ragdolls.

The DarkOps Flatliners continued on, ending the Siege as brutally as possible.