[Position: Hidden behind supply crates]
Alex finished whispering the instructions. His face was serious, barely illuminated by the emergency lights of his NBC suit.
"Did everyone understand the plan?" Alex asked, looking each of his three companions in the eye. There was no margin for error. "We are not shooting to kill; we are shooting to confuse and disable. Understood?"
The three soldiers nodded, swallowing hard. They were terrified, but Alex's confidence gave them a lifeline to hold onto.
"Yes, yes... understood," they answered in unison, with trembling voices.
"Good. Then get ready," Alex adjusted his blaster. "Let's begin."
[Position: Dark Water Extractor Zone]
About fifty meters away, unaware they were being watched, the famous Shane Gang was celebrating what they believed to be a total victory. They watched as Nacho's train pulled away into the distance, taking Blakk's main troops with it.
"We finally scared those fools off," said Eli Shane, lowering his blaster. His blue gaze scanned the horizon, always alert. "Blakk's soldiers run fast when they lose the numbers advantage."
Trixie, always with her camera ready and analyzing the situation, nodded with satisfaction as she saved a recording of the escape.
"At least Dr. Blakk won't be able to get anything else out of this pit today," said the intrepid videographer, looking at the bubbling red liquid with disgust. "We've cut off his supply. That's going to hurt his wallet."
Suddenly, a short, pudgy figure leaped onto a rock, striking a heroic (and ridiculous) pose.
"Hah! I don't know why you are surprised!" exclaimed Pronto, the molenoid, puffing out his chest. "With The Great Pronto by your side, victory was assured from the start. It matters not how many soldiers Dr. Blakk sends; in the face of my magnificence, we shall always be the winners!"
Trixie let out a laugh, accustomed to her tracker friend's antics.
"Hahaha... Sure, Pronto. I bet it was your 'magnificence' and not the fact that Eli took down three guards by himself," Trixie joked.
Eli smiled slightly, but his face quickly turned serious again. He knew the job wasn't finished.
"Relax, guys. Save the celebrations for later," Eli interrupted, assuming his role as leader. "Before we claim victory, we have to make sure Blakk can't use this again. We have to find a way to seal this well forever."
Eli turned toward the largest member of the team, a muscular blue Cave Troll who was examining the extractor machinery.
"Kord, think you can do something?" asked Eli.
Kord stood up, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag, and smiled with that technical confidence that characterized him.
"Let me see what I can do, bro," Kord answered, pulling out his tools. "This pump is Blakk tech, pure unstable junk, but if I reverse the flow polarity and overload the seals... yeah, I can block it. Just give me a few minutes and watch my back."
"Done," said Eli.
The group was completely confident that the enemy had fled. They had no idea that, in the shadows, four blasters were aimed directly at them, and that the strategist in command wasn't some mindless Blakk grunt.
The silence was broken by the sharp whistle of two shots.
Thwip! Thwip!
Immediately after, the screech of metal being struck was heard, followed by a heavy, dull thud. Two huge metal barrels fell from an upper catwalk, smashing into the ground just meters from where the Shane Gang stood.
"Take cover!" shouted Eli Shane, diving behind a supply crate.
The other members of the gang followed his lead with trained reflexes, hitting the deck as the dust settled.
"So there were still Blakk soldiers straggling behind..." murmured Trixie from her cover, adjusting her camera lens to look for the source of the shots. "I thought the rats had fled on the train."
"Then we have to get rid of them," said Eli, poking his head out slightly to try and locate the enemy position. "We can't let them interfere while Kord seals the well."
Suddenly, a short, chubby figure jumped out from his hiding spot, breaking all tactical discipline.
"Relax!" exclaimed Pronto, aiming his blaster into the air. "With Pronto here, there is nothing to fear. The Great Pronto will take care of these evil soldiers!"
The molenoid fired a slug at random into the darkness of the ceiling, not aiming at anything specific.
"Pronto, stop acting like a fool!" growled Kord.
The mechanic extended his massive arm and grabbed Pronto by the back of his NBC suit, dragging him back to the safety of cover before he got his head blown off.
"Stay down, mole!" Kord scolded him.
The "Ghosts"—those wretched miners whose brains and bodies had been exposed and corrupted by Dark Water—reacted to the noise. Without thinking, driven by a primitive rage, they charged blindly toward the direction of the sound... which came from Alex's position.
Alex, hidden in the shadows of the catwalk, saw them coming.
"What a nuisance," he whispered.
Coldly, Alex loaded three Terror Slugs into his blaster and fired in rapid succession.
Ssshh! Ssshh! Ssshh!
The slugs impacted against the intangible specters, unleashing nightmare illusions that sent them retreating amidst silent shrieks.
"What kind of grand strategy is this?" Alex mocked in a low voice, talking to himself as he watched the creatures flee. "Charging head-on, senselessly, toward the enemy?"
Alex shook his head as he moved agilely toward a new position, far from where he had taken the shots. It was the sniper's golden rule: never fire twice from the same spot.
"Looks like the Dark Water fried their brains, too," Alex thought with disdain. "What kind of idiot throws themselves at an enemy without knowing their exact position or numbers?"
As he settled into his new sniper's nest, Alex smiled beneath his mask. He had achieved two things: stopping the ghosts and, more importantly, making Eli Shane believe the attack was coming from a place where he no longer was. Confusion was his best weapon.
Alex wasn't the only one with a strategic position.
While the Shane Gang was distracted by the crash of the metal barrels he had thrown at them, his three squadmates took advantage of the chaos to move. Following Alex's prior instructions, they had silently dispersed, flanking the heroes' position.
It was true that the Shane Gang's cover—a group of reinforced supply crates—was solid and didn't allow for a clean direct shot. But Alex didn't need a clean shot. That was never his plan anyway.
"Are you in position?" Alex whispered over the comms.
"Affirmative," three voices responded in unison.
Alex took a deep breath, calculating the angles in his mind. "Fire, now!"
The four blasters fired simultaneously from four different points.
The chosen projectiles weren't explosives or direct impact slugs. They were Stinger (or Porcupine) slugs. Upon reaching their detonation point, right above the Gang's position, the slugs didn't hit; they burst in the air.
"Look out!" shouted Eli Shane, pushing Trixie to the ground.
The slugs expelled hundreds of sharp spines in all directions, creating a lethal rain of projectiles. The "spine-wave" saturated the air. The Shane Gang, despite their experience, was forced to hug the ground, covering their heads to avoid being punctured by the organic shrapnel.
Alex watched the result with cold satisfaction. He knew this strategy was risky and depended on several critical factors.
Factor Number 1 and most important: The Pump. Under no circumstances could they severely damage the Dark Water extractor. If that thing exploded, everyone died. However, Alex made a pragmatic calculation: It's better to have a pump with minor surface damage than to have no pump at all because the Shanes sealed it. He was willing to scratch the paint if it meant saving the mission.
Factor Number 2: Surprise and Speed. He had to get the Shane Gang out of the facility as soon as possible. He couldn't win a prolonged battle.
The plan had a flaw: Luck. The Gang's cover was very good. To minimize the chance factor, Alex had dispersed his squad. By firing the Stinger slugs from diverse angles, he created a geometric kill zone. It didn't matter where Eli or Kord hid; if the spines came from the left, right, front, and back at the same time, there was no "safe side."
The rain of spines continued, forcing the heroes to keep their heads down, frustrating Kord's attempt to repair or sabotage the extractor.
Alex's plan was executing with lethal precision.
The rain of organic projectiles didn't stop at the ground. The spines pierced the metal barrels. Originally, these containers possessed incredible resistance, designed specifically to store and transport Dark Water, the most dangerous and corrosive material in Slugterra. Their solid structure should have been impenetrable to a common Stinger slug.
However, Alex had calculated the prior structural damage.
Minutes before, to launch those barrels onto the heroes, Alex's teammates had hit them with Rammstone slugs. The blunt impact of the Rammstones, added to the violence of the fall, had compromised the metal's integrity, creating micro-fissures and weak points. Now, facing the rain of spines, the armor gave way.
Unfortunately for the Shane Gang, metal wasn't the only thing pierced.
One of the spines, traveling at high speed, found an organic target. It impacted directly on the largest member of the group: Kord.
The sharp projectile punched through the layers of his NBC suit and buried itself deep in his shoulder.
"Argh! That hurt!" grunted Kord, wincing in pain.
Without hesitating, and with the typical toughness of his species, Kord grabbed the spine with his healthy hand and ripped it out with a dry yank, letting out a guttural growl.
"Kord! Are you okay?" shouted Eli, turning worriedly toward his friend upon seeing the hole in his suit.
Kord massaged his shoulder, checking his mobility. His Troll skin was hard as rock, which prevented a mortal wound.
"Relax, man," replied Kord, grabbing his blaster again. "It's just a scratch. I've had worse bites from Ghoul slugs. Let's keep going!"
Despite the wound, the heroes' morale didn't break.
After that initial impact, the situation stalled. The battle dragged on for fifteen interminable minutes.
The cavern air filled with smoke and energy. Alex's squad, taking advantage of their enveloping position, kept the Shane Gang pinned down, while Eli and his team responded with precise shots, trying to find a breach in the enemy formation. It was a stalemate: Alex couldn't get close to liquidate them without exposing himself, and the Shane Gang couldn't leave their cover to seal the well without being riddled with holes.
Time was ticking, and with every minute that passed, the risk of the Dark Water extractor failing increased.
The Shane Gang had been outplayed, although they didn't know it yet.
The main objective of Alex's previous attack had two prongs: pierce the barrels and injure, even slightly, a member of the enemy team. Both goals had been met with cruel synchronicity.
Behind the Shane Gang, the barrels damaged by the spines and the fall began to give way. Without them initially noticing, the Dark Water began to spill silently from the holes, releasing toxic fumes right behind their cover.
Kord was the first to feel it.
The Troll was visibly exhausted. He was sweating excessively and began to hyperventilate. The toxic radiation of the Dark Water was filtering through the puncture in his shoulder, coming into contact with the surface wound. The poisoning wasn't immediate, but it was relentless.
"Kord... what's wrong?" asked Trixie, noticing the big guy was swaying and his blue skin was turning grayish. "Kord!"
Trixie put her usual sarcasm aside, genuinely scared.
"I... I don't feel good..." Kord stammered, dropping his blaster.
Eli Shane, always perceptive, analyzed the situation quickly. He saw the black liquid bubbling behind them and the wound in his friend's suit.
"Damn it! It's the Dark Water," exclaimed Eli with horror. "The fumes are getting into his suit."
The situation had gone from a difficult firefight to a critical medical emergency. Eli found himself at an impossible crossroads: they were pinned down, under fire, and with his friend being poisoned by the minute.
Suddenly, the enemy shots ceased. An unsettling silence filled the cavern.
"Hey!" shouted a voice, calling the Gang's attention.
Eli and Trixie looked up. Atop a raised rock formation, silhouetted against the cavern's dim light, they saw a subject standing with confidence. It was Alex.
"I know you've realized your friend's situation," Alex shouted, his voice resonating with authority. "And I know you don't want the Dark Water damage to be permanent."
Alex paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in.
"Get out of the facility! You have 30 seconds!"
It was an ultimatum. Alex's plan had succeeded. He didn't need to kill them; he just needed them to leave to secure the extractor.
"If you leave now, my teammates and I won't shoot!" continued Alex. "But you'll have to hustle. If you don't, your friend dies right here."
Eli Shane gritted his teeth, looking at Alex with distrust.
"How do we know you're telling the truth?" shouted Eli, shielding Kord with his body.
"You have my word," Alex replied firmly. "This is a ceasefire. If you retreat, no one shoots."
Eli hesitated for a second. Surrendering went against everything he stood for, but then he looked at Kord, who could barely keep his eyes open. His friend's life was worth more than any victory or any Dark Water well.
"Eli... are you sure about this?" Trixie asked him in a whisper, worried. "It could be a trap to flush us out of cover and finish us off."
"I don't know, Trixie... but if we don't get Kord out of here now, the Dark Water will kill him," Eli stated. "We have no choice."
With no other alternatives and blindly trusting the word of the masked soldier—who they still didn't know was Alex—Eli and Trixie hoisted Kord up. The Troll draped his massive arms over his friends' shoulders and, dragging his feet, they began to retreat through the same entrance they had arrived in.
Alex kept his blaster lowered, watching as the heroes disappeared into the tunnel's darkness. He kept his word. No one shot.
Once the Shane Gang was out of range, Alex activated his communicator.
"We managed to get rid of the threat," he informed his squad with a calm voice. "Zone secured. The extractor is ours."