Grimm ran over a peak covered in ice, helping himslef with his big axe. From the top, he gave a look around, to see the hundreds of metas, norms and even Gods fighting with the hundreds of thousands of T5 robots.
“This will be a massacre” though the Avatar of Death. Then, talking inside his mini-mic: “Griss, you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, boss” was the answer in his ear-piece.
“Can you also see me?”
“The satellite image is perfect. I can see each one of you, and, man, your situation looks desperate.”
“Well, not for much.” Grimm jumped far, toward the Stormloader which had just landed behind a rim of iced roks.
“Velo, Velo!” yelled Grimm, “bring me a visor”.
From the hovercraft Kristogar Velo fled toward the Vanguard leader, bringing a complex helmet under his arm.
“You want to keep your eyes over the satellite images? Look at the battle from top?” asked the ex-intelligence agent.
“Not me. You, find Phil and begin to scan the mountain for Nae. If we can help, we have to do it before Vangeance finds him.”
And said that, Grimm jumped away, toward the just landed EPS carrier.
Just exited out of the cargo, small groups of men and women were running toward cover, ready to began their impossible fight with the hordes of robots.
It took just a second, for Grimm, to recognise the figure of Rose Biggles, and to jump next to her.
“Grimm, you startled me!”
“I have something for you. A very important role.” He puts the helmet on the girl.
“This visor is connected to our monitor room at La Perdita. Grissom Montag will feed you images, datas, suggestions, and will repeat you my orders. I want you to create a mental link to the field leaders of each groups here, so that they could be co-ordinated. Ok?”
“I have done it before, I guess it’s OK”.
Grimm ran away, axe raised.
In the helmet the voice of Grissom came to life: “How could I have missed a beautiful lady like you at La Perdita? The island is so small… anyway, are you ready?”
“Mhh… I guess so” responded the girl, and suddenly a veritable inundation of images and data hit her brains, fed by the complex visor, trough subliminal images, to her cerebral cortex.
“Argghhh…!” screamed the fortune teller, but then the data began to makes sense.
A minute later, the voice of Grissom arrived to Grimm not through the earpiece, but directly inside his mind, accompanied by images of the fortress, blueprints of the robots and many more processed data.
“Suggestion?” asked the Avatar of Death.
“Not yet” responded Montag, “let me some more seconds. MY agent has just entered the mountain”
