Chapter 7 – Black Forest Showdown

 

Chapter 7 – Black Forest Showdown

🌲 Bavarian Alps – Omega’s Hidden Bunker, 03:30

The pine trees stood silent under the moonlight as Salty’s team advanced on Omega’s subterranean facility built deep into a forested cliffside. Thermal feeds showed dozens of guards, mechs, and quad-mounted .50 cal turrets guarding its reinforced blast doors.

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🪖 Final Briefing

Salty knelt in the pine needles, scanning maps under his NVGs.

“We end them tonight. Funji, breach infiltration. WhizzAir, EMP drones on the mechs. Ye Olde Large Lad, frontal assault as always. Winky – plant your fireworks. Aishling and Sarah – infiltrate Command, seduce and kill Cross’s top brass.”

Sarah checked her MP7, smiling darkly. “Ready, boss.”

Aishling flicked her blonde hair back, her cleavage squeezed into a skintight infiltration suit. “Let’s kill some scumbags.”

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💋 Aishling & Sarah – Seduction and Death

Inside the bunker’s executive suite, Omega’s European commander, Colonel Dieter Kahl, sat sipping cognac, bald head gleaming under chandelier light.

Aishling entered first, hips swaying hypnotically. His eyes widened, lust dripping off his sneer.

“And who might you be, mein Schatz?”

She sat in his lap, cleavage pressed against his chin as Sarah slipped behind him silently, dagger drawn.

“Your worst nightmare, love,” Sarah whispered.

Before he could react, she rammed the dagger under his jaw and up into his brain. His body twitched violently before going limp, blood seeping from his mouth onto Aishling’s chest.

“Ugh,” she sighed. “Ruined another suit.”

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🔫 Funji’s Infiltration

Funji moved through the maintenance tunnels like a wraith, tanto blades flashing in near darkness. Three Omega commandos fell before realising he was there, throats opened in precise, silent arcs.

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⚡ WhizzAir’s EMP Strike

Outside, WhizzAir guided his EMP drones over the Omega mechs, their thermal feeds flickering before collapsing sideways like metal trees in a storm.

“Timber lads!” he whooped.

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🪓 Ye Olde Large Lad’s Rampage

With a bellowing roar, Ye Olde Large Lad charged straight into Omega’s frontline, M249 roaring as .50 cal tracer rounds zipped past his bulk. He swung his sledgehammer sideways into a mech pilot’s cockpit, crushing skull and steel alike.

“Come on ya bollox-breathed Eurotrash! The GAA finals hit harder than this!”

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💣 Winky’s Fireworks

Inside the nuke storage chamber, Winky set C4 charges along each missile rack, humming Dirty Old Town under his breath.

“Omega wanted a bang. I’ll give ‘em a proper feckin’ Clondalkin farewell show.”

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🚁 Extraction

Salty’s team regrouped at the cliff-edge helipad as Omega’s bunker erupted in a towering fireball behind them. Sarah leapt into Salty’s arms, their lips meeting under the burning sky.

“We’re nearly there, love,” Salty growled.

Aishling winked at them, blood streaked down her cleavage. “Save it for the chopper, lovebirds.”

Ye Olde Large Lad lumbered up last, wiping blood from his sledgehammer. “Right. Who’s buyin’ pints after this?”