Tobias' hand scrabbled to his midsection. He felt a large hole on the right side of his stomach where the bullet had exited—it had gone straight through. He twitched in pain and heard the sound of his blood splashing as it pooled underneath him. He'd dropped the Flatline next to him, and Dimitri hastily stepped forward to kick it away.

"Oh, shit!"

Tobias watched as Dimitri raised the Wingman up to take aim at McFarlane, but the latter was already in motion. Ducking down to avoid the first shot, he sprinted forward and tackled the 6-4 Pilot to the ground. They rolled across the floor, each of them struggling to gain an advantage over the other.

He looked around blearily for his gun. He spotted it a few meters away, close to Gates' foot, and reached a hand out towards it. Gates noticed his movement, followed his gaze to the rifle, and understood what he was trying to do. Grunting as she struggled against the cuffs binding her to the pipe, she tried to grab it with her free hand—but it was too far away.

Changing positions for a different approach, she straightened out as far as she could with her leg. Once fully stretched, she was just barely able to touch it. Moving the tip of her boot next to its stock, she nudged it as hard as she could towards Tobias. It skidded to within arm's reach of him, and he extended one hand out to grab it—

McFarlane gave a sharp cry of pain as Dimitri kicked him away and sent him tumbling to the floor. He rolled right into the gun's path, pushing it away from Tobias once again. Dimitri closed the gap between himself and McFarlane, bringing the revolver up to his opponent's temple. McFarlane managed to grab Dee's hand that was holding the gun, and jerked it upwards right as it fired. He took the opportunity to throw a punch of his own that managed to connect with the freelancer's faceplate.

Dimitri staggered back just enough to allow McFarlane to roll backwards and onto his feet. Pressing his newfound dominance, he brought his foot back and swung it forward to collide with the traitor's jaw. Dimitri's helmet went flying off, and he stumbled backwards. McFarlane leapt into the air, readied his fist, and used his jump-kit to thrust downward—

With the reflexes of a snake, Dimitri side-stepped and caught McFarlane's outstretched arm in his grasp. Then, he brought it down over his rising knee and snapped it at the elbow.

"AAHH!"

McFarlane's guttural scream of pain didn't last long before Dimitri shoved him away and held the Wingman up again.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Blood sprayed outwards from McFarlane's back. Slowly, the Pilot looked down to stare at the newly created orifices in his chest, then collapsed on the ground with a pained gasp.

His chest heaving with exertion, Dimitri lowered the weapon and ran a hand through his buzzed hair, wiping away the sweat that had collected from his fight. "Damn, you gave me a good run for my money. Had me worried for a minute there." Leaning down, he collected his helmet off the ground and slipped it back onto his head.

"Blisk, I've taken care of the situation. I'll be heading back to base shortly."

After a moment, he looked over at Tobias' sprawled form on the floor, then to the data-knife lying next to him. "Sorry, but I'm afraid that I can't let you keep this." Lifting his foot up, he brought it down with no small amount of force. A metallic twang could be heard as the blade snapped in half, and he admired his handiwork.

Still losing blood, it was taking every ounce of strength Tobias had left to not pass out. "Wh ... w-why?"

He shrugged. "Same reason most people do anything, really—someone paid me a lot of money."

"You son of a bitch!" Gates shouted furiously from the side, shaking her cuffed hand against the pipe. "We're supposed to be better than this, better than just working for the highest bidder—!"

"Well, not everyone shares your misguided self-righteousness, Elizabeth," Dimitri sighed. "A merc's got to make a profit—why should I care who's funding it?

He knelt down in front of Tobias. "Since the second I met you, I knew you were going to be trouble. But Gates wouldn't let me just throw you out the damned airlock, and then she had the bright idea to let you partner with the Titan you found on Nedar ... and everything just spiraled out of control from there."

He snorted. "I mean, really—you had one assignment, and suddenly you're infiltrating an IMC data-center? That could have been the end of it, but no, Gates had to have us go and save your ass!" Dimitri shook his head in wonder. "Goddamn, I think you're the most determined person I've ever met. When you came up with the plan to raid the Kraken, I actually encouraged you—I figured that this idea of yours was so reckless that it was a sure bet you'd die carrying it out."

He threw his hands up into the air. "But you survived! And then you kept surviving. And damn it, you just don't know when to die, do you? One bump in the road after another, but you always manage to crawl your way to the finish line. Well, not this time."

Rifling through Tobias' pouches, he pulled out the Codex and held it out to examine it. "Hard to believe this little thing's worth all the trouble everyone's gone through to get it." He looked back to Tobias and chortled. "Thanks for the paycheck, Four."

Placing the Codex in one of his own pouches, he stood up and turned towards a tunnel at the back of the room that connected this place to the main compound. As he walked out, he turned back to Tobias one last time.

"Who knows? If you don't bleed out in the next few minutes, maybe we'll be working together again at some point. Blisk's offer is still open!"

Then he disappeared down the tunnel.

Tobias watched him leave, then turned his attention to McFarlane who was lying still a few feet away from him.

"Rob ..."

Dragging himself over, he placed a hand on his friend's chest and tried to apply pressure—but it was too little too late. There wasn't much he could do at this point, McFarlane's whole front was practically painted red. A steady stream of blood trickled from his mouth as the green of his eyes met the blue of Tobias'.

"F-Four ..."

"Hey," Tobias whispered. "H-Hang ... in there, a-alright? We'll ... g-get you help—"

McFarlane let out something between a wheezing cough and a laugh. "Y-You're one to t-talk ..."

Tobias looked down at his own wound, crimson still flowing freely from it. The other Pilot was right—he was hardly in better shape. Even now, he could sense the edges of his mind starting to feel fuzzy, like the droning hum of white noise.

"I'm s-sorry," McFarlane choked out suddenly, red spittle flying from his lips. "For w-when I m-met you, I-I mean."

"What? N-None of that m-matters now," Tobias assured him, but McFarlane shook his head.

"It ... d-does to me." His voice hitched in his throat. "You've ... y-you've been a great f-friend to me, Four. M-More than ... more than I d-deserved."

He raised his left forearm, the unbroken one, and gripped Tobias' hand tightly in his, pressing his sidearm into it, a P2011 Hammond pistol.

"This ... t-this isn't on ... you." His eyes darted towards the tunnel at the back of the room. "That ... bastard d-did this. You h-have ... to stop him b-before ... before he ... he ..."

"Rob? Rob!"

McFarlane's eyes lost their focus, staring at something beyond that which Tobias could see. His lips parted slightly, and one final, quiet breath escaped them—then, he fell silent forevermore.

Tobias stared at the body of his friend numbly. Gates watched him quietly from her imprisonment several meters away. "Tobias, I ... I'm so sorry."

"This ... this is m-my fault," he murmured.

"No, you heard what he said—"

"I thought ..." he continued absentmindedly, almost speaking to himself more than her now, "I thought y-you were the spy. I ... I g-got him killed."

He couldn't do much more than lay there, he felt his arms and legs growing weaker by the minute—he was losing too much blood. Soon, he wouldn't be able to move. If he was going to do something, it had to be now.

She shook her head. "This is on Dee's head, not yours! Just sit tight and stay awake, we'll figure something out ..."

Looking down, she rummaged through her belt with her free hand. After a few seconds, her hand emerged triumphantly with two items which she tossed over to him; a first-aid cocktail and med-tape. They landed near his head, only a foot away or so.

Pushing himself away from McFarlane's body, he grabbed both of them and brought them closer. Grunting with every painful movement, he undid the clasps and buckles of his chest-armor until it fell to the floor with a soft whump.

Lifting his undersuit to expose the bullet-hole, he slapped the cocktail, a small, circular device with three sharp prongs, right over the wound. He grimaced as it latched onto his skin and began injecting him with a mix of disinfectant, adrenaline boosters, and pain suppressors. The sharp, stabbing pain of his injury was lessening, now becoming more of a dull, distant throbbing. With it in place, he began using the adhesive gauze to tape over it and stem any additional blood flow. Reaching around behind him, he did the same thing on his back to his best approximation.

The cloudiness of his mind was dissipating as the cocktail did its work, and he found himself with a clear head again. The static had been pushed back for now—but he had to do what he needed to before it returned. Pushing himself up onto his feet, he staggered over to McFarlane's helmet, still on the control console, and grabbed it. He walked over to Gates and knelt down next to her.

"Here. The radio-transmitter should work for you."

Placing the helmet in her lap, he stood back up and stumbled over to his Flatline, retrieving it from the floor and holding it tightly in his hands. Gates, who had expected him to free her, now cocked her head in confusion. "Aren't going to get me out of this thing?"

"You'd just follow me."

With his rifle in hand, he set off down the tunnel. Gates watched him go with panic creeping into her voice. "Wait, where the hell are you going?!" She yanked her chained hand desperately against the pipe, filling the room with the sound of metal banging against metal. "Come back here, damn it!"

He ignored her cries as he left, his back retreating down the tunnel.

"Tobias! Tobias!"

...

KT was beginning to grow worried as the four of them never came out. What could be taking them so long?

She'd been keeping watch on the trenches and the battle still raging in the courtyard. It seemed as though both the Militia and IMC were evenly matched for the time being, but that wouldn't be the case for long if no reinforcements were coming to help—

"KT!"

She heard a voice over the comlink channel, one she hadn't expected to hear. "Captain Gates?"

"Everything's gone to hell! I'm trapped in here, I need you to get me out!"

Her mind racing, KT didn't wait for an explanation to act. Bringing one fist back, she drove it forward into the concrete wall.

WHAM.

Frost shook itself free from the roof and walls as she made contact. She drew her fist back again.

WHAM.

A large crack had appeared in the wall, one that didn't look like it could withstand another blow. She gathered as much force as she could for one last punch ...

WHAM!

The concrete broke apart and crumbled in a cloud of dust and debris. She peeked inside and saw Gates hand-cuffed to a pipe along the wall.

The Captain beckoned to her and pointed at her predicament. "Give me a hand with this!"

KT reached through the hole, grabbed the section of the pipe which the Captain was cuffed to, and snapped it. Gates wasted no time in sliding the handcuffs off of the broken edge, and ran to her side. "Dimitri's a damned spy! He killed McFarlane, then took the Codex and ran off—"

"Where's Tobias?" KT asked fearfully, looking around the interior and seeing McFarlane's corpse in a puddle of blood. She noticed another one a few feet away that had smeared as though someone had been rolling around and stepping in it.

Gates pointed down a shaft at the back of the room. "He went after him! Left me here, said I'd just follow—"

KT tuned her out as she looked towards the IMC complex and tuned into her neural link with Tobias. She could feel him on the other end of the connection, his rage bubbling over in droves.

"Tobias, what are you doing? What's the plan here?"

His response was curt and blunt. < Shut down the turrets. Get the Codex back. Kill Dimitri. >

"Not that I don't doubt your resolve, but you're alone," she argued. "And you don't sound like you're in any shape to be fighting—"

< I know what I'm doing, Kay. Get everyone to the evac zone, I'll meet you there when this is over. >

Without any further explanation, he closed his mind to her. She recoiled from his brashness, and tried to get his attention again. "Tobias? Tobias, you answer me right now!"

Gates watched as the Titan stomped her foot in frustration, then looked down to stare at her. "He's not answering anymore. He wants us to help gather the Militia forces around the exfiltration point."

"I hope he knows what he's doing," the Captain grumbled angrily, running off through the trench. "Let's move!"

KT glanced at the compound anxiously.

I hope so too.

...

Tobias held the Flatline in front of him as he pushed through the halls. He followed the directions painted on the walls towards the command center, checking every corner for a hint of danger. Thankfully, it seemed that the IMC had thrown every last soldier at their disposal out into the war-zone that had once been the courtyard.

His search led him to a room similar looking to the one he and Vale had found at the other outpost. He poked his head out around the edge to make sure it was empty, then double-checked for any shimmering in the air; he refused to be caught off-guard by a cloak Pilot again.

When he was sure that the room was clear, he shuffled his way over to a console directly ahead, what seemed to be the main set of controls. From here, he had access to any system in the entire IMC compound—he wouldn't even need his data-knife for what came next.

He found a set of switches and knobs that controlled the energy output of the heat-shield generators. Hastily, he turned them all down to zero, and looked outside through the large window in front of him to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

The waviness in the air above the compound disappeared, and the blizzard came rolling through in full-force. In a matter of seconds, the courtyard had been enveloped in a near-whiteout. With no clear targets, the turrets would remain idle and harmless—the Griffin could start sending in dropships now.

With his plan's first step complete, he scanned the console for his next target—the complex's main intercom. He spotted the microphone on his left, and thumbed the button beneath it.

"This is Tobias Four to all Militia forces, get to the extraction point! I've taken the compound's anti-air defenses down, repeat, the anti-air defenses are down! Get the hell out of here!"

Letting go of the button, he took a step back, then raised the Flatline and unloaded the entirety of his magazine into the console. Sparks flew as circuitry and metal was destroyed—now, the IMC couldn't get those systems back online without anything short of a miracle. His work done, he sat against the bullet-riddled console and watched the door with his Flatline for who he knew was coming.

He waited.

It took no more than two minutes for his gambit to pay off. He heard a single pair of footsteps outside in the hall, and Dimitri stepped into view around the doorframe. His Wingman was already raised and aimed at Tobias in response to the latter's leveled Flatline, putting them both at an impasse. Tobias watched as the other Pilot's visor depolarized, allowing him to see Dimitri's face within his helmet.

"Well, well, well. Look who clawed his way out of death's clutches again." The mercenary shook his head in amazement. "I know I should be pissed off, but I have to give credit where credit's due—you're one tough son of a bitch."

Tobias glared at him. "You forgot one crucial detail about the Codex when you left me to die."

Dimitri paused. "And what would that be?"

"It can only be used by the Inferno—and if you recall, that's me." He nodded his head towards the Wingman. "You kill me, the Codex becomes nothing more than a pretty paperweight." He shrugged. "Maybe you don't care about that, but I doubt ARES would be very happy with you."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes as he processed Tobias' words. "What's your game, Four?"

"Fight me. No weapons, winner takes the Codex—unless you're worried you'll lose?"

He hoped that little jab against Dimitri's ego would provoke him. To emphasize the point, he threw his Flatline to the floor. "If you win, you've got both the Codex and the only person who can make it work."

A thoughtful expression came over Dimitri's face. "Interesting. A free excuse to beat the shit out of you, and I get to personally deliver you to Marder?" Grinning, he lowered the Wingman and tossed it to the side where the Flatline was. "How can I say no?"

Retrieving the Codex from his pouches, Dimitri placed it on a table to one side of the room for safety. Tobias held his hands up in a boxer's stance, though he teetered slightly off-balance. The mercenary gave a short bark of laughter. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life."

Dimitri charged hard and fast, unexpectedly so. A fist slammed into the side of Tobias' helmet, and he jerked away reflexively. A well-placed elbow found its mark right in his stomach, right where he'd been shot, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to not shriek in pain.

Changing tactics to play offense, he swung a fist upward and connected with Dimitri's solar plexus. The mercenary staggered back with a wheezing cough, holding a hand to his chest. "Solid punch, Four—I was worried you'd make this too easy!"

Dimitri aimed a kick at Tobias' ribs. The latter dodged, then attempted to counter with an uppercut. Dimitri caught his arm and threw it to the side so that Tobias spun away from him, then placed his foot against the wound on Tobias' back and shoved him into the computer console.

Tobias felt the visor of his helmet shatter against the force being driven against it, shards of glass trickling onto the console. Dimitri grabbed him by the back of his collar, pulled him up, then struck him with a cross. His helmet flew off entirely, but the mercenary wasn't done. Grabbing him by his hair, Dimitri slammed Tobias' face into the console again. Skin and bone met metal harshly, and his vision began to swim.

Tobias launched himself at Dimitri and began to tear and claw at anything that he could get his hands on. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Dimitri picked him up and threw him across the room. His head slammed into the floor, and he could hear his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears.

This is it.

He moved his right hand towards his belt, fumbling to find what he needed. Dimitri didn't notice,