We have recaptured the Rat’s Nest. I’m too tired to sleep, so I can just as well write it all down.
During the Radio shack run, we got our hands on toy drones. Those things are pretty agile and big enough to carry a payload. After some trial and error, people got quite good at piloting the drones, so we loaded them up with flashbangs and rigged them to explode.
With rush hour traffic in the Barrens at full swing, we managed to get close to the Nest undetected and hid in the hills of garbage. The Picas had turned a fifty yard stretch around the Nest into a death zone with no cover at all, so an open attack would have been suicide. The drones could get into the Nest unseen we hoped and so an army of Hello Kittys, garden gnomes, bunnies, little doggies and teddy bears made its way over the open ground and reached the containers, coming from several different directions.
My drone was attacked by a dog and I had to explode it. At the time, the group that entered the Nest via the main street was already hidden under the wooden sidewalk and took that as a cue to explode as well. Others made their way further into the Nest. All in all, we created chaos and confusion among the Picas and like we had hoped, many of them took a dose of Kamikaze to get ready for our attack.
Now we sat back and waited for an hour, I estimated that the drug would by then have worn off with almost all the Picas and then they would crash, become incapacitated or at least seriously handicapped. Splash came up with the idea to play a high frequency tone over the loudspeakers of the Nest and even at a distance of a hundred yards, it grated on the nerves. It must have had quite an effect on the Picas, high on drugs and awaiting an attack at every moment.
I took the time to conjure up a couple of Watchers and a ghost and asked them to find and confuse the Picas during our attack. I chose the ghost of one of the Picas I killed, with the hope that the sight alone of someone they know to be dead would at least startle them.
Under cover of darkness and with a couple of our people laying down suppressive fire to keep the Picas from shooting at us, we crossed the death zone and attacked, again in several small groups and from different directions. The Picas had gone into hiding, the Nest was silent and empty, even the squatters had disappeared.
I went with Blaster and Cameron, who went up on the containers as our spotter. Blaster ran into a trap and almost got shot by a Pica who had hidden in some trash. After a short fire fight, the kid went down and we continued, further into the Nest. The containers are only a couple of yards apart and we already knew that there would be traps, so turning a corner and even walking down the small alleys was nerve-wracking. We discovered a wire across our way just in time and Cameron spotted some movement in a second storey container. He shot an explosives dart through the window and the Pica who had been hiding there caught fire, crashed through the window in panic and landed right in front of us. We took the time to roll him over to extinguish the flames, but not more. It’s probably going to haunt me, but this was not the time for compassion.
The other groups reported that the Picas were using Molotov cocktails and jury-rigged flamethrowers, we could easily hear the screams, the gunfire and the occasional explosion. Five Picas ran through the alley across from us and before the could react, both Cameron and I had shot one of them. The others hid behind the corner, just like we did. One of them spotted Cameron and fired at him, but missed. Blaster cut the fight short with a hand grenade, none of them survived that. By the time we reached the main street, the fight was pretty much over.
Most of the Picas died, they fought hard to keep the Nest and very few of them surrendered or ran. Only about twenty are still alive and most of them are badly hurt. We lost none of our people, mainly thanks to the armor we were wearing. But we have people who are badly hurt, with gunshot wounds or severe burns. I set up a makeshift field hospital in Growler’s pub and got to work, luckily I got help from Cameron, Liz and Glitzy. Still, it took hours to treat everybody, especially since the Picas had abused the squatters who stayed behind when we left the Nest in every way imaginable.
Whistler had a shrapnel wound in his leg and lost a lot of blood, but he’ll be fine. I’m worried about Gargle who took a bullet to the foot and I’m not sure I can keep the wound from becoming infected. Rusty has been hit by both a shotgun and a Molotov cocktail, he has third degree burns and, at least for now, he’s blind. When they brought him in, he was in shock, but by the time I got to him, he had started to freak. I had to drug him to keep him from going into a total panic and right now, I’m waiting for him to wake up again so I can tell him that the blindness will not be permanent, as far as I can see. I’ll try to get some sleep while I wait, it’s already three in the morning.