There was a loud and sickening crunch from the other side of the armored shack.
Those who were in a position to see would notice, particularly, that the shack seemed to be remarkably bulldozer-proof. The yellow-gear turned tank had rammed the side and stuck there, wheels crawling forward and crushing pavement uselessly. The automatic shotgun fired repeatedly into the side, causing little puffs of cement dust to cascade around the scene, framing the silhouette of the machinery like the last glimpse of a dying animal in a forest fire.
Bambi the Superdozer was dying.
And they'd killed it.
Eventually the corpse must have rolled off the pedals. The dozer stopped moving forward and sat at a low idle, rumbling like a cat, while the shotgun merrily unloaded the rest of its buckshot into the side of the building. Poof, poof, crumble-crumble.
Interestingly enough from inside came a certain measured amount of screaming. It was much more audible when the shotgun ran out of ammunition, and it was followed by some knocks and iron-sounding bashing noises.
Apparently the dozer had parked itside directly up aside the metal door, and whomever was inside the impenetrable fortress was now completely trapped there. This was made even more apparent when the speaker box mounted on the side of the shack piped up again, the nervous inhabitant shouting, "Guys!? Guys!? Hey, lemme outta this thing!"
Sammy stood up with a wince for his wounded foot and leaned against the shack, replying into the cold metal a grainy, "Hold on a sec, damn it. Your guys fuckin' shot me."
"Dalton, issat you?" The loudspeaker asked, "Y-you're alive?"
"I said hold on a cotton-pickin' minute, geeze!" Sammy shot back, wiping the tears from his eyes. After a moment to gather himself, the former salesman shuffled his bloody foot to the edge of the building and peered around at the group.
"So, uh, guys, yeah." He started nervously, "Sorry to bother everyone here, but... Can we please let's get the boats loaded in the truck and go home. I'm losing a lot of blood here, and I'm pretty sure the red pills didn't do anything except give me a woody."
-----
With Lucas' help, eventually all of Nika's most important possessions were loaded onto the dolly with the welding equipment and the group was headed back towards the submarine.
Ahead, Alex was already there. He leaned on the side of one of the trucks that had been pulled from the submarine to air out in the rain. In his hand was his communicator, which he was busily typing away on.
"It seems the bridge crew inside has detected a ship entering the atmosphere and headed towards the South Side." He told the truck. "A most interesting occurrence. After this business with the boats, I shall have to go investigate."
As if awoken from a trance-like state, Alex turned to Lucas suddenly and barked a few orders.
"Lucas, you take the things into the hangar and tell the mechanics to bring these trucks back inside. We're going to depart for the night once the boats arrive. Chrys, you take Minerva and Galina and show them the officers' quarters-- let them pick from the few remaining empty rooms."
