An Army Prepared with Resolve, Supplies, and Strategy is Bound to Victory - 3
"I hope it all goes well..."
I sat at my desk, running Wasteland 2.
Truth be told, it was pointless. I'd already shared the strategy with Lisa, and she would've kicked off the operation by now.
But replaying the plan—even if just in the game, even if just as a simulation—gave me some small comfort.
In the game, at least, my strategy wrapped up perfectly, without a single casualty.
"Nice."
The Christmas Tree Operation was the textbook raid on a Devil's Offspring stronghold. It started with a night assault, dummy targets rigged with lights to draw enemy fire. Open up from a safer distance to blunt their momentum. Meanwhile, deploy the strongest spec-ops team to sow chaos inside and take out the leadership.
It definitely works, but...
Of course, the Devil's Offspring weren't idiots.
But in this tactic, the gap between "player" and "NPC" was just too vast.
They surprisingly lacked combat experience—specifically, fights against equals.
In the wasteland, battles weren't commonplace. Raiders with overwhelming force hunted down the weak like a steamroller, or militia and settler factions crushed foes with superior numbers. That was the norm.
If you could avoid a fight, you did. Profitable battles were rare in the wasteland.
Even if a raider boss somehow gained hard-won experience, it rarely trickled down to the grunts.
The Rangers valued veteran fighters, but even there, fully passing on combat know-how wasn't easy.
For raider bands, where anyone might stab you in the back if you showed weakness? Forget it.
And besides...
Night-vision goggles on this scale? A variable they wouldn't see coming.
That world had them, sure. But a mere Devil's Offspring branch didn't need to worry about it.
Any group stable enough to stockpile that many wouldn't risk them on a risky night raid. The moment they pinpointed the outpost, they'd just shove in cannon fodder cheaper than goggles.
Succeed...
Coldly speaking, even if she failed, my "trades" wouldn't end. Someone would pick up her mantle, or I'd pivot to another world. I'd built plenty of track record already.
Still, Lisa was a solid partner. Trustworthy enough, and she didn't seem the type to squander our deals on evil deeds.
I genuinely hoped she'd pull through.
"Move it! Grab your guns and get to the outer wall!"
The raiders hustled nonstop. Their base was under attack.
They couldn't gauge the enemy numbers, but allies kept dropping.
Those who lit lanterns in panic rallied comrades to climb the outer wall—or tried to.
"Huh?"
The lead guy clutched his chest in agony.
"Wha—?"
If they'd made it atop the wall, they might've realized, "Enemy bullet." It was exposed territory, after all.
But they hadn't even reached the top.
"Traitor—?"
One raider crumpled mid-sentence. His followers toppled like dominoes.
A bullet pinged into their lantern with a thunk, spilling oil that snuffed the flame.
"Enemy eliminated. Plant the device and fall back."
Lisa set her prepped gadget, then vanished in a flash.
"Last one. Hit the main force."
Her Rangers were wasteland-hardened veterans, one-man armies.
But numbers were absolute. Against this horde, five operatives suppressing the enemy bordered on impossible.
Yet they believed they could do it.
"Damn it... damn idiots! Shoot! Shoot!"
From the wall, Bill bellowed. Their night-vision cluster around him stood out clear.
...Morale's crumbling.
Raiders away from Bill already shivered in fear. Blind to their losses in the dark.
The outer Rangers kept firing silently. Shouts from inside dwindled.
Some huddled in guard posts, trembling. Others never climbed up, just waiting out the nightmare in silence.
"Useless trash...!"
Bill sprayed bullets endlessly until he heard something rolling.
A round metal lump tumbled to his feet.
"What the? Some moron dropped—"
His final words.
Tat-tat-tat—dozens of rounds shredded his chest. One of those lumps exploded, birthing light.
"Gah... grrrk!"
"What the hell?!"
Dark-accustomed eyes recoiled. Perfect opening.
More dropped. They withstood outer fire but crumbled under internal strikes.
Blinking survivors beheld the impossible.
"Wha...?"
The Rangers' first blasts weren't flashbangs—flares. Crude ones: blinding initial burst, then dim enough to reveal shapes.
But that faint glow showed it plain: corpses everywhere, beyond imagining.
Including their boss. The mad, violent icon who seemed unkillable.
Bill, a mangled husk.
"Gaaaaah!"
"Assault! It's an as—!"
Many confirmed his death. But despair didn't end there.
"Gaaaaah!!!"
Boom—explosions chained. Not flares this time: proper grenades, Lisa's handiwork.
"M-my arm!!!"
"Can't see! Nooo..."
Limbs flew. Bodies piled. Survivors' minds shattered before flesh.
"Mercy, mercy, pleeease..."
"D-don't wanna die!"
Raiders at core: brutal poseurs, cowards deep down. True courage would've made them soldiers or mercs.
They'd thrived preying on weak, dodging strong. In a society where the sly and scared lasted longest.
No loyalty when allies might crack. Enemies might spare you? Unknown. But your own buddy backstabbing? Certainty.
"Drop your weapons and surrender! Your boss is dead. The rest fell already!"
Lisa roared. Pre-set speakers blared recorded cheers.
"Waaaaah!!!"
Daylight would've exposed the ruse, even demoralized Devil's Offspring wouldn't kneel to five intruders. Less chaos, normal wake-up—not this grueling night fight—might've let them hold.
Maybe spot the fake roars.
But they broke.
"Surrender! We'll surrender, just spare us..."
"The fuck?! Rangers! Even if we live, it's execution or slavery—urk!"
"I-I killed that psycho! Spare me! I don't wanna die! Never killed much, no rapes either!"
Some snapped back, resisting. But momentum swung to the cowards.
"Drop 'em! Out of the base, face down till ordered otherwise!"
"Y-yes!"
"You know we've got more outside than inside! One wrong move, bullet to the skull!"
Lisa bellowed, pressuring survivors.
Momentum! If they realize our numbers... won't die quick, but it'll be brutal...
She still held total edge: they saw her; she saw them unseen.
Sniping any who fired at noises, Lisa prowled inside.
"Surrender! Bill's dead! North wall guards all surrendered and bailed!"
Fear, screams, shots, shouts fueled terror. It snowballed, engulfing the base.
Time passed. Dawn broke.
"...We did it."
Light revealed her triumph: Raiders disarmed, trembling before Ranger guns.
Man-eaters who'd fattened on caravans and settlers, now strewn as corpses.
The outpost: wrecked. Devil's Offspring expansion: thwarted.
"We... did it..."
Operation success. Her Rangers' branch could savor long peace.
"I won't disappoint... you."
Lisa smiled, thinking of that man.