Love, Death and Robots. Volumes 2 & 3

The entrance to Camp Eisenhower was a hatch in the ground hidden beneath a false layer of loose rock. Morris led the way down a steel ladder, which dropped into a concrete hallway after twenty feet. Pale overhead lamps flickered as the rest of the team followed, spreading out with their weapons at the high ready.

“If we can get to the bionics bay, I should be able to access the control system,” Morris said. “I can recall them from there, and then use the kill switch once they get inside.”

“Or you could just flip the kill switch now without calling them here,” Folen said, his eyes glued to the door at the end of the hall. “That would also work.”

“We can’t leave these things lying around,” Morris snapped. “You think Uncle Sam wants the world to know he’s setting genetically modified bears lose to hunt down hajji? Does that sound like a winning strategy for hearts and minds?” They stopped at the door. Morris quickly punched a code into the keypad. “We call ‘em back here and flip the kill switch as soon as we hear them rooting around. Then I call for MEDEVAC, we go home, and all of you get a fancy award and a weekend in Qatar.”

The hallway they stepped into was covered in blood. The remains of corpses were everywhere, mangled bodies and black, slick blood covering the walls.

“Something must have gone wrong with the command signals,” Morris said as Macy cursed in disgust. “The three barghests were supposed to run a standard patrol last night. Instead, they went berserk. My team was already on patrol when one ambushed us. Managed to take it down, but I was the only one to walk away from it.”

“I thought you SF guys had special magic beard powers,” Nielsen asked, keeping his rifle tight in his shoulder. “Your beard didn’t protect you?”

“Fuck you.” Morris winced, pressing a hand against the Israeli bandage over his wound. “Take a left up here.”

The kill team headed down another blood-slicked corridor. There were rooms on either side of the long hallway; rooms with doors that had been beaten down, rooms with shattered glass panels and scattered laboratory equipment.

Morris stopped briefly at one of them. “Sweet,” he said, ducking inside. Nielsen followed, nearly tripping over overturned weapon racks. Machine guns, semi-automatic rifles and anti-tank weapons were scattered everywhere.

“Macy, Folen, get in here,” he said, quickly opening ammo can full of HEDP grenades. “Stock up on everything you can carry. Ditch your plates; they’re not going to protect us from those things anyway.”

“Here.” Macy pulled two M72 Light Anti-Tank Weapons out of an overturned locker. He handed one to Folen and took one for himself. “There’s something else in here…” He withdrew a long, hollow tube fitted with a wooden pistol grip.

“That’s a Gustaf,” Morris said, playing with a remote control he’d snatched from one of the few lockers still standing. “84mm recoilless.”

“Will it take one of those things down?” Nielsen asked.

“If you shoot it center mass, it should deal enough damage to the barghest’s mechanical and organic support systems to trigger a total shutdown,” Morris said. “And if not…”

A large metallic crate in the corner suddenly toppled over with a loud bang. A tracked robot wheeled out from where it had been hidden and stopped at Morris’ side. At around four feet tall, the robot was armed with sponson-mounted machine guns and a quad-barrel rocket system.

“This is MAARS-bot,” Morris said, patting the robot affectionately. “He’s armed with one XM806 .50 caliber machine gun, two M240L 7.62mm machine guns, and an M202AI FLASH Incendiary Weapon.”

“Sweet,” Macy said. “Is it gonna go rogue and try to eat us, too?”

His answer was an echoing roar from somewhere deeper in the compound. Morris cursed. “All right, one of the two little bears is already home,” he said. “We gotta go. Now. Follow me!”

He sprinted out of the room, MAARS-bot cruising along behind him. The others followed, quickly slinging their rocket-propelled weapons as they sprinted down the hall toward the bionics bay.

“It’s just ahead,” Morris shouted as they rounded a corner. “Oh, shit!”

The barghest they had encountered earlier was just ahead of them. It bled hydraulic fluid and boiling, dark-red blood. It appeared even more massive in the tightly confined space. It roared, its spines scraping and gouging the ceiling.

“Honey badger, 12 o’clock!” Folen shouted, immediately dropping to a knee and opening up. He fired on burst, burning through a 30-round magazine in a matter of seconds.

“Grenades!” Nielsen shouted as the barghest dropped and charged. The HEDP rounds sailed through the air, each of them smashing into the beast’s front legs. Nielsen could feel the intense heat of the blast at such close range. He opened up along with Macy, the other soldier’s MK48 filling the air between them and the monster with armor-piercing rounds.

“Use your stupid ray gun, Morris!” Macy shouted.