Chương 100: Chapter 93: The Grand Theft Aircraft

The morning sun cast a pale, icy glare over the fortified steel structures of the Atlesian Military Base in Argus. The air was thick with the biting chill of the northern coast, carrying the sharp scent of ozone and ocean salt. Across the expansive tarmac, heavily armored soldiers and technicians marched with rigid, mechanical purpose. Walking toward the primary hangars, dragging a large, heavy luggage case behind her, was Weiss Schnee.

Flanking her on one side was Special Operative Caroline Cordovin, whose posture radiated absolute, condescending triumph. On Weiss's other side walked Saphron Cotta-Arc, holding a bundled-up baby Adrian securely in her arms. Trailing close behind the women were the two eccentric, hyper-disciplined Nubuck guards, their boots clicking in perfect sync.

"Ah, I was immensely relieved to hear that you finally came to your senses, Miss Schnee," Cordovin declared, a smug, satisfied smirk wrinkling her aged features. She clasped her hands behind her back.

"Many of us in the upper ranks were absolutely devastated when we heard you would be attending..." Cordovin's nose wrinkled with profound disdain.

"... Beacon Academy. Knowing that you'll be returning to Atlas, where you belong, just warms my old heart." Weiss stared straight ahead, her pale blue eyes carefully masking the intense anxiety twisting in her stomach. She forced a polite, deeply unenthusiastic smile.

"It was... time to get my act together," Weiss lied smoothly, her aristocratic upbringing flawlessly hiding her deceit.

"And go back to my roots."

"Oh, I simply cannot wait to see you follow in your sister's footsteps," Cordovin beamed, clearly envisioning Weiss as another perfect, obedient Atlesian soldier.

"Absolutely..." Weiss murmured.

"I am sending two of my absolute best guards to personally escort you on the Manta transport," Cordovin said proudly, stopping near the entrance to the hangar bay. She offered Weiss a conspiratorial wink.

"Do make sure General Ironwood hears that part." Before Weiss could respond, Cordovin turned on her heel and marched away, heading back toward the command center to file the departure paperwork. The moment she was out of earshot, the two Nubuck guards snapped to attention.

"Allow me to assist you with your bag!" the first guard announced loudly. He immediately hupped over, grabbing the handle of the large, suspiciously heavy luggage case. He grunted, his knees buckling slightly under the sheer weight.

"My, what a heavy bag!" Weiss tightened her grip on the handle, her heart skipping a beat.

"That's alright! I've got it."

"Nonsense!" the first guard insisted.

"Allow me to assist as well!" the second guard chimed in, marching forward to grab the other side.

"I can take care of it by myself!" Weiss argued, entering a three-way tug-of-war over the luggage. A few dozen yards away, Cordovin paused. Her sharp ears picked up the struggle over the luggage. She stopped in her tracks, slowly turning her head. A deeply suspicious, calculating look crept onto her face as she narrowed her eyes at the struggling heiress. Saphron, standing near the hangar entrance, noticed Cordovin's turning gaze. Saphron leaned her head down, whispering softly into her son's ear.

"Just like we practiced, sweetie." Adrian blinked his big blue eyes. He looked at his mother, gave a tiny, solemn nod of understanding, and immediately opened his mouth.

"WAAAAAAAHHH!" The baby let out a high-pitched, ear-piercing wail that echoed like a siren across the entire military base. Adrian squirmed and fussed violently in his mother's arms, tears instantly springing to his eyes as he threw a perfectly executed, award-worthy tantrum. Saphron gasped in exaggerated panic, bouncing him frantically.

"Oh no! Look at that, he's just going to miss you so much, Weiss! You should hurry on out of here before he gets even more upset!" The two Nubuck guards froze, entirely abandoning the luggage.

"A crying child?" the first guard gasped.

"We must console it!" the second guard declared. The two guards immediately hupped over to Saphron. In a desperate attempt to amuse the wailing infant, the heavily armored soldiers began performing a series of bizarre, highly robotic poses, waving their arms and chanting in unison. Further down the tarmac, Cordovin let out a heavy, thoroughly unamused sigh at the chaotic display of civilian child-rearing and continued walking back to the command center, her suspicions dismissed.

Seeing her window of opportunity, Weiss hastily shoved her luggage toward the boarding ramp of the Manta ship. In the awkward, frantic shuffle, Weiss' hand brushed against her coat pocket. A personalized, silver compact mirror, proudly bearing the Schnee family crest, slipped free and clattered silently onto the cold tarmac. Entirely unaware of the dropped item, Weiss hauled the heavy bag up the ramp and into the ship's hold. The boarding doors hissed shut behind her.

Weiss leaned against the bulkhead, letting out a massive breath.

"That was close." The comm-link in her ear crackled to life.

"Is everything okay?" Ruby's voice asked nervously. Suddenly, the latches on Weiss's massive luggage case popped open. Maria Calavera squeezed out of the bag, groaning as she stretched her tiny, aching back.

"Call me heavy..." the elderly woman grumbled, adjusting her shawl.

"It's all muscle! I'll show those tin-cans a thing or two about heavy!" Weiss pressed her finger to her earpiece.

"We're on board."

Miles away, hidden along the snowy, forested cliffside that overlooked the freezing ocean and the Atlesian base, the rest of the vanguard lay in wait. Ruby, Oscar, Team JNPR and Qrow were huddled behind a cluster of pine trees. Their eyes locked on the Manta ship idling on the distant tarmac. The freezing sea wind whipped through their hair, but the adrenaline pulsing through their veins kept the cold at bay. Qrow lowered his binoculars, pulling his scroll from his pocket.

"Alright, listen up. We'll all watch our scrolls. The second Weiss is out of range of the local comm tower, that'll mean she's officially out of range of the military radar, too."

"And that's when we step in," Yang's confident voice crackled over the radio.

"We're almost at the drop-off."

Weaving through the snowy backstreets of Argus, a bright blue, incredibly non-threatening tourist rental scooter sputtered loudly. Yang Xiao Long sat in the driver's seat, her golden hair whipping in the wind as she aggressively gripped the handlebars. Blake Belladonna sat directly behind her, holding her Scroll up as Terra Cotta-Arc's voice relayed the final instructions.

"Okay, remember," Terra Cotta-Arc's voice filtered through the Scroll.

"One, the radar box is separate from the rest of the communications equipment. So if you disconnect it properly, it won't take out comms for the rest of the city. Two, this conversation never happened."

"Don't worry," Blake replied smoothly, her amber eyes scanning the approaching relay tower.

"This isn't the first time I've disabled Atlas security." On the other end of the line, Terra stared at her console with a completely unamused, deeply stressed expression.

"Never. Happened."

"Roger that, Terra," Yang said, leaning into a sharp turn.

"Also, find us a rental bike that is actually faster than this one next time, will ya? And... maybe a more dashing one too. Seriously! This scooter is so lame!" Terra sighed heavily." Unfortunately, it's the fastest personal vehicle available in Argus, Yang," The scooter finally sputtered to a halt near the edge of the communication compound. Yang killed the engine with a frustrated sigh, and the two Huntresses stepped off, immediately shifting into a low, tactical crouch as they approached the perimeter fence.

Several standard Atlesian guards were stationed around the entrance, their rifles held at ease.

Before the guards could even register a shift in the wind, Blake and Yang blurred into motion. Blake utilized a shadow clone to distract the left flank, while Yang moved with a terrifying, ghost-like fluidity. She stepped entirely within the guard's blind spot, delivering a precise, silent chop to his neck that sent him collapsing into the snow without a single sound. In less than ten seconds, the perimeter was entirely neutralized.

Yang dragged the last unconscious guard into the bushes, dusting off her leather jacket.

"You know," Blake whispered, expertly picking the electronic lock with a specialized tool, "I always thought stealth wasn't exactly your, um..." Oh, please," Yang let out a soft chuckle, stretching her arms overhead.

"After all the hellish training we've been through from our 'Tactical Kinetic Evaluator' and that 'reverse ambush' plan back at Haven, you think I can't do these 'ninja' things just because I'm all fiery and rumbling?" Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Yang let out a heavy sigh of annoyance as the heavy door clicked open.

"Though, I'll admit... this would be a million times easier if the Ice Cream illusionist was here." Blake pulled the door open, slipping inside the dark facility.

"Well, since she's the absolute only person capable of covering our 'secret weapon' in public, there's nothing we can do. Reasoning with his mundane antics was just mathematically impossible."

Across the city, in the bustling commercial district of Argus, the world's greatest secret weapon was currently experiencing profound, agonizing suffering.

"Next," a bored employee droned over a cheap PA system. The interior of Argus Express Cleaners smelled strongly of starch and industrial detergent. It was also completely, undeniably packed. A sea of disgruntled citizens holding winter coats and formal wear crowded the small waiting area. Standing at the very back of the line, vibrating with sheer, unadulterated impatience, was Saitama. He was still wearing the heavily grease-stained white trench coat and the bowler hat.

In his red-gloved hand, he gripped a tiny, flimsy paper ticket bearing the number 24. The digital display above the counter currently read: Now Serving - 15. Saitama's right foot tapped a frantic, rhythmic tempo against the linoleum floor. His face was set into an intense, heavily shaded scowl of pure misery. He glared at the digital display as if trying to incinerate it with his mind.

"This is taking forever," Saitama complained loudly, throwing his head back.

"How are there this many people doing laundry on a Tuesday morning?!" Sitting comfortably on a padded waiting chair near the window, entirely unbothered by the wait, was Neopolitan. Her mundane brown-haired disguise held perfectly. Hearing his complaints, Neo typed a quick message and held the screen up. [It's not that long.]"Like hell it's not!" Saitama argued, aggressively pointing at his grease stain.

"I need to get rid of this stupid stain as soon as possible before it gets permanent!" Neo just rolled her eyes. She popped a sugary gummy candy into her mouth, lazily scrolling through a fashion blog on her Scroll. Saitama let out a long, tragic sigh, crossing his arms and sinking deeper into his stained collar.

"Damn... It's just the same back in my home universe..."

Back on the Manta airship, Weiss sat tensely in a passenger seat, staring intently at the glowing screen of her Scroll. The blinking dots representing Qrow, Ruby, and the others were slowly fading toward the edge of the radar perimeter. The moment the dots vanished, Weiss made her move. She stood up smoothly, adjusting her collar, and marched purposefully toward the cockpit door.

"Miss Schnee!" the first Nubuck guard warned, stepping in front of the door with his rifle raised.

"For your own safety, we must request that you remain seated until we reach Atlas airspace!"

"Excuse me," Weiss said coldly.

"What?!" the second guard barked. Schwing. Weiss summoned a massive, black Gravity Glyph directly beneath the guards' boots.

"Traitor!" the first guard yelled as the intense gravitational pull locked their feet to the deck. Before they could raise their weapons, Weiss flicked her wrist. The glyph shifted, launching both guards violently backward. The cargo doors hissed open, and the two heavily armored men were ejected directly into the freezing sky. A secondary glyph flashed, expertly tying the two men together back-to-back before forcefully deploying their emergency parachutes.

"This parachute won't excuse you of your treachery!" the second guard screamed into the wind as they slowly descended toward the freezing bay. The cargo bay doors sealed shut. Weiss brushed off her hands and walked into the cockpit, where Maria Calavera was already climbing into the pilot's seat.

"And you're absolutely sure you can fly this?" Weiss asked, a note of deep skepticism in her voice as she looked at the complex array of Atlesian controls. Maria scoffed, adjusting her thick shawl.

"Missy, I was the Grimm Reaper! What part of 'best Huntress of her generation' don't you understand?"

"Right, but your eyes," Weiss pointed out, gesturing to the solid brass goggles. Maria let out a raspy chuckle. She reached into her pocket, retrieving a small, specialized data cable. She plugged one end directly into the ship's navigation console, and seamlessly plugged the other end into a port on the side of her cybernetic goggles. Instantly, the text on the primary monitor shifted, reading: TRANSMITTING SENSOR ARRAY DATA.

Inside her goggles, Maria's mechanical lenses whirred and dilated as the ship's entire visual and radar feed was beamed directly into her optic nerves.

"You were saying?" Maria smirked, gripping the flight yoke.

"That you said your eyes were in desperate need of repair!" Weiss argued. Maria held up a single, wrinkled finger.

"Bup bup bup." Weiss protested.

"But--""Bup!" Maria interrupted sharply. Weiss let out a defeated groan. She slumped into the co-pilot's seat, aggressively strapping on her seatbelt as Maria pushed the thrusters forward, banking the heavy Manta ship away from the Atlas flight path.

Down on the cliffside, Ruby stared at her Scroll. Weiss's signal completely vanished from the local grid. Ruby turned toward her uncle, a massive, triumphant grin breaking across her face. She gave a firm thumbs-up.

"This is it!" Qrow pressed two fingers to his earpiece, his eyes narrowing with tactical focus.

"Alright. Yang, Blake, you're up." Inside the dim, humming interior of the relay tower, Blake stood before the primary radar junction box. Her amber eyes scanned the complex wiring before she expertly severed the main data cable with Gambol Shroud, entirely isolating the military radar without touching the civilian communications grid.

"Got it!" Blake answered into her earpiece. The massive, glowing holographic map of the Argus airspace projected on the wall instantly went dark.

"Yes!" Yang cheered, throwing a victorious punch into the air. Blake sheathed her weapon, offering a relieved smile.

"Let's go back to the others." They sprinted out of the facility, rushing back to the chain-link fence where the bright blue tourist scooter was waiting. Yang groaned loudly as she swung her leg over the seat, turning the key.

"I swear, if this thing tops out at twenty miles an hour again, I am going to push it off the cliff."

Back at the Atlesian Military Base, Caroline Cordovin stood near the main gates, watching Saphron and her crying baby disappear down the street. Cordovin scoffed, shaking her head at the perceived weakness of the Argus citizens. As she turned to head back to the command center, a glint of silver caught her eye. Lying abandoned on the freezing tarmac was a small, ornate compact mirror. Cordovin picked it up. Her thumb brushed over the elegant, unmistakable engraving of the Schnee family crest.

"She must have dropped it in her haste." An opportunity presented itself. She could return the mirror before the ship broke atmosphere, allowing her to deliver one final, condescendingly affectionate farewell speech to the heiress to ensure her loyalty.

"Guards, prepare the hangar elevator," Cordovin ordered, marching purposefully toward the secure launch bays. The heavy steel doors of the primary hangar hissed open. Cordovin stepped inside, expecting to see the Manta ship running its pre-flight checks. The hangar was entirely empty. Cordovin frowned, clutching the compact mirror.

"They took off already? Those two didn't report--" Her words were cut just when she walked forward, looking out the massive, reinforced glass windows that overlooked the freezing bay. Her eyes widened in absolute shock. Slowly drifting down toward the icy water, bound tightly together by a glowing, slowly fading black glyph, were her two elite Nubuck guards.

"HEEELP! SPECIAL OPERATIIIIVE!!!" The first guard screamed like a kid.

"I'M SCARED OF HEIGHTS!!!" The second guard added. Cordovin's face turned pale, and then flushed with an explosive, incandescent rage.

High above the bay, the Manta ship cruised smoothly through the clouds. Suddenly, the ship's radio crackled to life with a burst of static.

"Manta 5-1, this is Argus Base," the voice of a confused Terminal Soldier echoed through the cockpit.

"We see you circled back. What's your status, over." Weiss froze, her blood running cold.

"Why can they see us? Yang and Blake were supposed to disable the radar!"

"Somebody dropped the ball," Maria grunted, banking the ship lower into the cloud cover to avoid visual detection. Weiss's hands flew to her coat pockets. Her stomach plummeted as she felt empty fabric, realizing her missing compact mirror.

"Ugh, for the love of..." Weiss sighed, holding her forehead in profound exasperation.

"My bad."

"Don't worry," Maria said confidently, reaching out to grab the comms microphone.

"I've worked with Atlas forces before. I know their jargon." Maria cleared her throat, deepening her raspy voice into a perfect imitation of a grizzled, no-nonsense pilot.

"Argus Base, this is Manta 5-1," Maria spoke into the mic.

"Feel free to gaff off. Thought we were going to scrub due to FOD, but we're back up and green across the board, over." The radio was silent for three agonizing seconds of static.

"Manta 5-1," the Terminal Soldier replied, his voice completely devoid of amusement.

"Return to base immediately, or you will be treated as hostile, over." Weiss threw her hands in the air, glaring at the elderly woman.

"I thought you said you knew their jargon!"

"The jargon was fine," the Soldier's voice crackled.

"But our pilots aren't elderly women." Maria blinked, completely caught off guard.

"Huh, well they got me there! Ooh, my mind really is going! Why would you kids let me fly this thing?" Before Weiss could scream in frustration, the radio feed violently switched channels.

"Calavera!" The deafening, furious roar of Special Operative Caroline Cordovin blasted through the cockpit speakers.

"You and those insolent children are up to something, aren't you?!" Cordovin shrieked. Down in the base command center, Cordovin slammed her hands onto the dispatch console, her eyes burning with fanatic zeal.

"You thought you could undermine my authority?! If you don't return my ship this INSTANT, I will make an example out of you. I will show you the true might of Atlas!" Over the radio frequency, instead of a desperate plea for mercy, Cordovin heard a loud, obnoxious CRUNCH. Back on the airship, Maria was casually throwing a handful of cashews into her mouth, chewing them loudly right next to the open microphone.

"You hear that, Cordo?" Maria asked, her voice dripping with absolute mockery.

"That's the sound of me not caring!" Maria cackled with manic, raspy laughter, banking the airship sharply toward the cliffs. At the base, Cordovin's expression shifted from enraged to purely homicidal. Inside the airship, Weiss's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated panic. She slammed her finger against her earpiece.

"Guys! We're in trouble! Cordo is onto us, and Maria isn't helping at all!" Down on the cliffside, the transmission from Weiss sparked instant, suffocating panic among the vanguard.

"She found out?!" Jaune yelled, gripping his heavy shield tightly as he looked out toward the distant base.

"This is a disaster!" Nora cried, gripping Magnhild with white knuckles. Ren placed a calming hand on Nora's shoulder, though his own expression was grim.

"If they scramble the fighter jets, the Manta won't survive the dogfight. It's a transport ship, not a combat vessel." Oscar stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped his brass cane.

"We have to do something to draw their fire! We can't just let them shoot Weiss down!" Qrow Branwen dropped his head into his hands, his crimson eyes filled with bitter, overwhelming guilt.

"I knew it," he cursed, his voice thick with self-hatred.

"I knew this was going to happen. My Semblance. My bad luck. It ruins every single plan we make. I should have never let you kids talk me into this."

"Stop it, Uncle Qrow!" Ruby stepped directly in front of him, her silver eyes blazing with an unyielding, fierce optimism that cut cleanly through his despair.

"This isn't your fault, and it isn't your bad luck," Ruby declared, her voice ringing with absolute authority.

"We knew this was a risk. But we're all in this together, and we are going to do the best we can to protect each other. We don't give up!" Jaune nodded fiercely, stepping up beside her.

"Ruby's right. We stand our ground. Whatever Cordovin throws at us, we take it together." Pyrrha drew Miló, spinning it into its javelin form with a sharp metallic schwing.

"We've faced worse. And we survived." Oscar nodded in agreement, his fear melting away beneath the absolute unity of the young Huntsmen. Qrow looked at the fierce, determined faces of the students. A profound, bittersweet smile touched his lips. He remembered what Glynda Goodwitch said to them back at the Haven Academy. The kids truly had grown up. They didn't need him to hold their hands anymore. They just needed him to fight beside them. Qrow drew Harbinger, the heavy scythe unfolding with a satisfying click.

"Alright, kids. Let's see what she's got." The radio in Ruby's ear crackled again.

"Guys," Weiss's voice echoed, sounding deeply confused and terrified.

"Cordovin... she isn't sending fighters." The group turned their gaze toward the Argus Military Base, straining to see through the morning mist. Suddenly, a deafening, tectonic rumble shook the very earth beneath their boots. The water in the bay began to violently ripple and churn. Slowly, agonizingly, the massive, snow-capped mountain that housed the lower levels of the Atlesian base began to mechanically retract. Heavy steel plating folded outward, revealing a cavernous, subterranean hangar.

From the shadows of the mountain, a colossal, towering machine stepped forward. It was an Atlesian mech of apocalyptic proportions, standing taller than the highest skyscrapers in Argus. It was heavily armored in pristine gray, armed with massive, ship-destroying cannons, and radiating an overwhelming, terrifying mechanical power. The Colossus overlooked the city, its massive visual sensors locking directly onto the tiny Huntsmen on the cliffside. Qrow whispered, staring up at the mechanical titan.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."