Pain.

That was the first thing that registered as soon as the helicopter ended its barrage of gunfire. My bad leg was throbbing, and I could feel a weight pressing down on my entire left side. My eyes were clenched shut as I tried to pull myself up, but the weight resisted my actions and kept me grounded. Groaning, I opened my eyes. My vision was mostly blinded by a tuft of multicolored hair not three inches from my face. Before I could say or do anything, Rainbow Dash groaned as well and lifted her head up. At first, she looked pained and dazed, but after a moment of looking at our situation, her eyes suddenly widened and she tried pushing herself up, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorr..."

"AH!"

The throbbing in my left leg became a sharp, stinging pain. I looked down at the appendage. Dash was kneeling on it with her left knee. When she tried getting up, the entirety of her weight went down onto my still-healing leg, right on the fracture. At my yelp of pain, she looked down and realized this as well, and immediately hopped over to the side as she repeated her apology. I was about to sit up when a whirring sound registered in my ears. I then remembered where we were.

"Get down!" I shouted at the mare, grabbing her and pulling her down. Not a second afterward, the French helicopter made a second pass. Its attached light shined into the hallway, casting dark shadows over us. If it weren't for the lower part of the walls still being intact, we would have been in plain view of the helicopter.

The radio cracked to life once again, "Command, this is Raven Three. Multiple enemies neutralized. Resuming standard flight pattern.

Seconds passed before the helicopter pulled back up. The light disappeared as the aerial vehicle went over the building and disappeared. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Dash helped me move over to the crumbling outer wall and take up a sitting posture. I used the opportunity to take in the room around me.

It was another massacre. Most of the civilians and guards weren't able to get into cover in time, and as a result, their corpses joined the French soldiers. White hospital uniforms were turned completely red on some of them, the chopper's miniguns making short work of their unarmored bodies. The guards didn't fare much better. The inner wall was peppered with black dots; bullet holes from the rounds that missed or blew through their victim. The floor was littered with shards of broken glass and chunks of drywall. Most of the pieces were also stained with blood.

As the roar of the helicopter dissipated, other sounds began to take its place. The groans of a wounded soldier - Greyhound - as he tried his best to put pressure on a leaking hole in his right foreleg. There was a whimpering, coming from the one surviving nurse mare. She was huddled over the body of the custodial worker, stifling her cries in his lifeless shoulder. The slight shuffling of hooves on broken glass as Ivory Shadow and the doctor began to stand up.

"Keep low," I warned them. The French soldiers outside were more than likely still watching the building, looking for movement. I didn't want to risk bringing that flying death machine back down on us.

The doctor began scanning the room himself, at first just taking in the carnage, but then with purpose. He started searching for survivors, anyone he could still help. His eyes eventually fell on Greyhound, and he did his best to rush over without going above the window line. I saw him loot a trauma kit from one of the fallen French commandos on his way over. A moment later, he was kneeling over the wounded pegasus, working to stop the bleeding.

The hall was quiet now, apart from the rain outside that was now falling into the building through the broken windows. After a few moments, a series of irregular pops could be heard in the distance. Gunfire. More clean-up crews. I realized we couldn't just sit here. We had to keep moving. It was only a matter of time before one of those clean-up crews stumbled upon us, assuming one wasn't already on its way, explicitly ordered by the officer to check this hall for survivors. I began positioning myself to get up. I bent my good leg first, and used it to start hoisting myself up...

Only to plop back down the moment I put weight on my bad leg. As soon as I had begun lifting myself, the throbbing in my leg flared up. Despite the pain, I tried again, this time trying to be extra careful with my leg. Alas, as soon as any pressure was put on the leg, the pain forced me back to the floor. So much for fully healed. Being stubborn, I positioned myself for take three, only to feel Dash place her hands on my shoulders firmly and hold me against the wall.

"Dash, help me up," I ordered, annoyance leaking into my tone.

"You are in no condition to be moving right now," she deadpanned, giving me a stern look.

"Damn it, Dash, we don't have time fo...OW!" Okay, take three didn't work out so well, especially with a pegasus holding me down. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I wasn't going anywhere with my leg fucked up the way it was. I didn't think it was broken again, but the doctor had told me after I started walking that it would still be sensitive. Having a pegasus fall on it must have done something to the weakened muscles. I could handle the weakness, but the pain had to be dealt with. Fast. My eyes fell on the doctor.

"Hey, doc," I called. He turned away from Greyhound to look at me over his shoulder, "You wouldn't happen to have painkillers on you, would you?"

In response, a small white bottle bounced to the floor at my feet. Dash grabbed it and handed it to me. There were a few red fingerprints from the doctor's bloodied hands on the base of the bottle. Ignoring them, I opened the bottle and examined the bright orange pills inside. It was still half-full of the medicine. I shook a couple of pills into my palm and popped them into my mouth, choking them down. My mouth felt a bit dry for a moment, but the pills kicked in immediately. The throbbing in my leg disappeared, and I could move it with a bit of effort. I slipped the bottle into my breast pocket.

I again asked Dash to help me stand, and this time she hesitantly obliged. I made sure to keep low, using a larger portion of wall between two window panes to hide myself from the hostiles outside before I straightened my back. My leg wobbled a bit, but didn't give out, and it didn't hurt anymore. After giving it a moment to adjust, I looked around again. First for my dropped weapon - which I found thrown across the hall - and second to do a head count. Thinking back, we had... twenty-four in our group, including me. That number had now dropped to a solid eight. Seven-point-five if you accounted for the fact that Greyhound was effectively out of commission. Apart from him and my original team - Dash and Crimson Flare - we had the doctor, Ivory Shadow, the nurse, and the orange earth pony guard. The one who had started the earlier argument. He was just now getting up, a shell-shocked look on his muzzle.

As I slowly crossed the hallway to retrieve my thrown MP7, careful to keep my head down, I noticed the limp in my leg was much worse than before. The pain was gone - temporarily whisked away by the painkillers - but the injury remained. I would have to be careful. I reached and recovered my weapon and, after a quick magazine check, turned to look at the scattered group of surviving equines.

"We gotta move, before they get here," I said flatly. I hated sounding so callous, but we didn't have time for subtlety. The gunfire in the distance was getting louder. Our enemies were closing in.

"Not gonna happen, Jay," Rainbow Dash responded. She gestured toward the wounded pegasus, "Grey doesn't look like he can move."

"She's right, James," the doctor added, not turning away from his work this time, "He'll live, but he's in no condition to move. He needs better medical treatment than this kit can provide."

"I'm afraid we don't have the option, doctor," I said. I pointed out the gunfire that was now growing in frequency as well as closing in distance.

"I understand, James," the doctor said, "But the corporal is still badly wounded. He cannot..."

"Don't worry about me, doc," Greyhound interrupted smirking, "It's just a flesh wound. Toss me some pills and help me up. I'll be fine."

Smirking myself, I pulled out the bottle and underhanded it to him. He caught it easily, and downed a couple of the painkillers. He tossed the bottle back before beginning to stand, with the doctor's and Flare's help. With no small effort, and while leaning on the doctor, he began limping slowly. Dash handed him his rifle. While he got used to his leg, I turned to the other half of our "team." The nurse was still cradling the dead custodial worker - her husband, perhaps? God, I hated thinking that. I had to chase away the thought that I had failed them. I did, but I couldn't dwell on it.

The gunfire drew closer.

Ivory Shadow was trying to snap the orange stallion out of his trance. I could hear her mumbling soft words of encouragement to the shell-shocked pony. What she said seemed to have worked, as he slowly lost his thousand-yard-stare and began nodding weakly. I saw him steel himself before standing straight and shouldering his rifle. Ivory turned to me, and I nodded to the nurse. Ivory nodded back, and went to work consoling the grieving mare. I then returned to the first half of the group, specifically the other two-thirds of my trio.

"Flare, you stay here with the group. Dash and I are going to scout ahead," I laid out my impromptu plan.

"We are?" Dash looked at me quizzically, her ears perking up.

"Yes," I nodded before bending down to retrieve a dropped AK-47 from the ground. I walked up to her and held it out, "We are. Give Flare his sidearm back, and take this."

She looked at the weapon I offered her with contempt for a moment before she sighed and did as asked. I saw Flare take his Tokarev from her and slip it back into its holster. Dash took the rifle from my hand and checked the magazine. It was fully loaded. She let out another loud sigh before looking at me and nodding.

I returned the gesture, and turned back to Flare, "Once everyone is ready to move, do it. The longer you wait here, the closer those death squads are going to get."

"You got it, sarge," Flare said, saluting, "Just to be sure I know, where are you going?"

"I'm going to look for a way down that doesn't require us doubling back," I replied. At this point, I had worked out the rough sketch of a plan, "Once we get down to the first floor, we need a way outside."

"Outside, sir?" he looked at me with a confused expression, along with the rest of the group, "With all of... them still out there as well?"

"What exactly are you planning, James?" the doctor asked.

I pointed out towards the windows with a thumb, "The APCs. We're going to take one."

The collective "What?!" from all of the equines was almost comical.

The bulky griffon stood atop the roof of the abandoned warehouse opposite the hospital, behind four griffon snipers. He looked out onto the battlefield, pleased with the work of his soldiers. He even gave a nod of appreciation to the quick response of the humans' backup forces. Though, he had to wonder why the forces needed to be called in the first place. He knew the reason, of course - the human tactical team had been flanked and lost most of their men - but what would have caused them to lose that many men? Surely the ponies couldn't have executed such a maneuver in their surprised state, right? The humans even had to retreat just to make it out long enough to send the signal. Despite his confusion, he somewhat admired the humans' sense of self-preservation.

Though, he also knew how big of a weakness it was. A human would do almost anything, even abandon their sense of morals or their friends, to ensure they live to see another day. His griffons weren't so naive. They were the best mercenary force on Equus. They followed his orders without question, and would lay down their lives for the mission readily. That was what made his griffons the best; they had no morals. No families. Nothing to hold them back. All they had was the mission, and each other.

The fluttering of wings behind him drew his attention away from the hospital. Behind him stood another griffon, this one slightly slimmer. Younger. He wore the human tactical gear that was so kindly gifted by their new allies. When the griffon landed and straightened himself, he saluted his commander. The older griffon saluted back before addressing his subordinate.

"Status report."

The younger griffon wasted no time responding, "Most of the hospital is clear, colonel. We just have a few pockets of resistance from what little remains of the Royal Guard presence within the building, the largest of which has now been taken out by the human flying machine."

"How many griffons did we lose?" the colonel asked.

"We've found twenty bodies so far, sir. No wounded," the young one replied without a hint of emotion.

The colonel growled at that. It was far more than he had calculated. He was normally on-point with casualty estimations. How did the ponies get the best of so many of his soldiers? He reasoned that the dead griffons must have been the weakest of his force. Dead weight, even before death. He would have to be more careful when recruiting their replacements.

"Colonel Steelclaw," one of the griffon snipers called out, bringing him out of his thoughts, "I see movement on the second floor."

Steelclaw turned and looked at the building again, "Our soldiers?"

"No, sir," another sniper replied, "Ponies. At the point of the helicopter's attack. And sir... they're not alone."

"What do you mean?' Steelclaw walked up to the ledge and picked up a nearby pair of binoculars. He looked through the magnifying tool at the spot the sniper had said - the remains of the shot-out windows. Sure enough, a small group of ponies were standing up, and with them was...

A human?

Not only that, but a human wearing the uniform of the United States military, one of the three main human factions - and the ponies weren't shooting him on sight, even with a weapon in his hand. Well, thought the colonel, This has just gotten interesting.

"Shall I engage, sir?" the first griffon sniper asked.

"No, hold," Colonel Steelclaw replied. He pulled a radio out of a pouch on his vest. It was tuned to the humans' frequency; specifically, their "Forward Operations Base" on the other side of Manehattan. He would have to call this information in before he did anything. He knew the humans would want to know. They hated being out of the loop.

He pushed the button on the side of the radio, and spoke into it, giving out his assigned callsign. Gods, he hated these technicalities. Why the humans couldn't just say their names on these devices, he had no clue. It was so much simpler, and didn't require the inclusion of numbers. Regardless, he played along. Didn't want to upset his new clients so soon into the contract. He didn't get payed that way.

After waiting for and receiving a reply from "Fortress," the colonel began relaying his new information, "I have discovered an interesting being among the ponies' ranks. Specifically, a human." he emphasized.

After a moment of pause, the radio operator from the FOB responded, "Are you sure he's human?"

"Positive," the old griffon said, "And that's not all. He's wearing an American uniform, and the ponies are trusting him with a weapon. I even see dead humans at his feet."

"Copy, wait one," the voice cut out for a moment, leaving the griffons alone.

"Sir?" the sniper asked for direction, for orders.

"Hold off for a moment," the colonel replied, "Just keep watching him."

"He's breaking off from the group, sir," one of the other snipers informed him. The colonel raised his binoculars once more. Sure enough, the human was now moving down the hallway with a rainbow-maned Royal Guard. The rest of them held back.

"Keep tracking those two," he ordered the first sniper. He then tapped the shoulder of the second, "You, keep an eye on the other ones. The rest of you, resume scanning."

They all gave curt "Yes, sir"s before carrying out their orders. As Colonel Steelclaw watched the human round a corner and disappear - much to the griffon's dismay - the radio cracked to life.

"Colonel, this is General Morrison. The man you found is now considered a hostile entity. Eliminate him immediately."

"I would love to, general," the colonel said mockingly, "But you boys took so long, the opportunity has passed. Don't worry, though. We'll take care of him as soon as possible."

"Don't put it off too long, colonel. He is a very dangerous loose end. If this plan is to work out, he needs to be dealt with."

"I understand perfectly, general," the griffon clicked the radio off and slid it back into its pouch. He then addressed his snipers, "Once you see the human, don't fire without permission. I want to see just what he's up to first."

Then, a thought slipped its way into the colonel's head. A way to make thing much more interesting, "On second thought," the griffon pulled out his radio again and tuned the frequency to the one his griffon soldiers were using, "All units, this is Colonel Steelclaw with an update to your orders. There is a human in the building, allied with the Equestrians. He is wearing U.S. military camouflage, and has been marked as a 'hostile entity' by our clients. He was last sighted near the second floor laboratories. Whoever brings me his head gets a large bonus on top of your normal cut.

"That includes you louts as well." the colonel told his snipers after the radio was once again off. A wicked smile crossed his beak. This was going to be very interesting to watch.

Author's Note

The plot thickens

I know the last chapter was a bit short, and kinda out there, and I apologize for that. I just didn't know where I wanted to end it, so I just kinda ended it the first chance I got. Again, sorry.

We're almost done with the hospital stuff, though. Just one, maybe two chapters left. Then we get to carry on to the interesting stuff.

As always, thanks for reading. Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.