[u][b]Indianapolis - Indianapolis Mariott Downtown [/b][/u]

Sergeant 1/c Missey, from his hard won vantage point on the 18th floor of the dilapidated Pre-War hotel, looked out to the North, towards the old Indiana Statehouse, with his binoculars, looking for targets for the guns of his battery, far to his rear. Devastated by counter-battery fire, the Enemy's guns had been silent for at least twenty minutes, so he was now free to devote his attention to helping the boys and girls...and their Legion allies...advance. Ten floors below him, tracers from the LMGs of the Platoon he had attached himself to reached out and raked the windows of the old State government buildings across Washington Street, the current front line. They, and a Century of Legionaries, had only been too happy to storm the building to give him a good place to work his magic from. For his part, he was gratified to not be alone as usual, his dick hanging out in the breeze as he had to do his job while watching out for enemy troops...now all he had to worry about was the muzzle-fuckers back at the Battery aiming short and dropping one on his head. 

"There you are, sergeant", came a voice behind him speaking Latin. Turning to look, he saw it was Centurion Tullius, the de facto on-scene commander as Lt Harding had bought it in the fighting in the Convention Center and the Platoon was now commanded by it's First Sergeant. He looked at the armor on the imposing and tough looking man's left arm, fashioned from a T-45 suit by the look of it. Missey wondered if it was true that he had to kill the original owner to win the right to wear it as part of his uniform as they said in the training class. "I need to speak to you before I go downstairs."

"What can I do for you, Centurion?", Missey replied in Latin...the Exam prep classes he had taken in the Barnaky Youth had certainly turned out useful even earlier than he had expected. He'd been recommended to sit the next Brotherhood exam by his Battery commander, and was confident he'd do well. 

"Your comrades were able to re-establish radio contact with their superiors", Tullis said, "and two squads of Knights and ammunition resupply has been dispatched, also Circle Square Mall has been taken, and forces are massing there for an assault on the State House. Once everything is in readiness, we will resume the advance." Missey produced his map case, and followed along as Tullius crouched next to him and showed him his plans on the map, pointing out buildings across the street. "I would like you to direct your fire here, here, and here. With your help, as well as the heavy weapons of your comrades, we will be able to cross to the other side with minimal losses. Our orders are to push all the way to the State Library building...here. Once accomplished, the Profligates holding the State House will be trapped."

"You can count on me, Centurion", Missey said, "We'll warm em up for you."

"Good", Tullius replied warmly, slapping the younger man on the back then standing again. He then prodded the bound prisoner..a  Raider...with his foot. She, clearly infuriated, tried to says something in reply, but the rag stuffed in her mouth prevented it from being understood. Tullius chuckled at her impotent rage and continued. "Spirited....your Inquisitors will have some sport with her. The reinforcements and ammunition will be delivered by Vertibird to the roof, they want the body of the Cultist and any prisoners for the return trip, as well as the wounded. Make sure the men I send up to fetch the ammunition take this one and the body with them. She's the only one likely to be of any importance...the next leader after the Cultist...the others will be dealt with summarily, we have too many wounded to waste space for garbage."

[u][b]Indianapolis International Airport - about thirty minutes later. [/b][/u]

As the Vertibird landed, the doors opened and stretcher-bearers approached from both sides and began removing badly wounded soldiers, mostly Legionaries in the uniforms of Recruits, with some Brotherhood soldiers along with them. After the medics had recovered the wounded, Inquisitor Stahl approached to see what they had brought for her. Only two....disappointing. By the sheer number of wounded, most likely the commander in the field had elected to evacuate his own men rather than prisoners, so had sent back only the subjects they considered most likely to be of use. One was dead, the back of his skull blown out and a .308 hole under his left eye, not to mention several shots through the chest. His armor and weapons clearly marked him as a full blown Cult soldier, and probably a unit leader of some kind to boot. Useful, and also confirmed the cult presence in the city. The other was a Raider wearing the blue and white colors of the Colts, Overboss Lee's Gang. The quality of her outfit and remaining equipment, not to mention the extensive and intricate tatoos, suggested a set leader. She climbed into the Vertibird and pulled the rag out of the woman's mouth unceremoniously, then began putting on a set of latex gloves she had acquired from the medics.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way", said Stahl coldly, "Open your mouth and keep it open."

"Fuck you, bitch!", the Raider spluttered, clearly enraged, "Wanna see what your guts look like? Untie me, and I'll show you!"

"Hard way it is", Stahl said, pushing her thumb into the pressure point in the back of the Raider's ear, "Open your mouth...now. I'm willing to do this all day."

The Raider stood up to the pain for a good minute before finally complying, opening her mouth so Stahl could examine her teeth. She found they were in good condition, at least for someone who didn't have dental care. Most importantly, no sign of the damage that Jet addiction invariably causes. Jet-heads were unreliable informants, to put it mildly.

Next she checked her eyes....pupils were normal, which meant she wasn't strung out on Psycho or Med-X. A bit muscular for a woman, so might be hitting the buffout....but that was manageable. All in all, one of the more promising subjects delivered from the Front so far today. 

"You'll do", Stahl said, patting her on the cheek with mock affection. The Raider responded by spitting on her. Stahl laughed mirthlessly. "Don't want to be my bitch? Very well, I'm sure the Legion has a spare cross....would you like me to put in a good word for you?"

For the first time, a trace of fear appeared on the Raider's dirty face. She'd seen what the Legion did with prisoners..they were busy decorating the roof of that old hotel with three of her crew even as she was loaded on the Vertibird.

"If you brought me here just to kill me", she said, "then for fuck's sake at least have the decency to pull down and do it yourself. Otherwise, tell me what the fuck you want from me."

"I'm starting to like you", Stahl replied, toying with the Raider's bedraggled and greasy hair, "Tell you what...we'll get you cleaned up and then we'll have a nice chat. Maybe there's still hope for you yet."