The Steam War (The Steam War #1)

Chapter 17: Mexico City

For the most part, it was a pretty average day in Mexico City. The temperature was standard for late December, and there wasn't too much wind batting the American news reporter. The sunset painted the sky in the same emotionally stimulating way as the previous day. All things considered, it was a beautiful evening.

Well, almost all things considered.

Explosions and gunfire filled the city on a scale the reporter had never heard. The quiet night Mother Nature had arranged was never going to happen. Some psychotic Austrian man had forbidden it.

"What's the status throughout the city?" he asked one of his cameramen, who had been closely watching local news stations. The cameraman peered over his shoulder with sorrow.

"You're not gonna like this, Mike," he said, pointing at the screen. A Nazi flag was flying above the Mexican capitol building. "It sounds like they pretty much effortlessly took over. Local news is paranoid that they're the next targets."

"The son of a gun was right," the reporter frustratedly acknowledged. "Okay, here's the deal. The two of us are going to try and make it over to the rest of the group in the broadcast building. We can't take our equipment without it weighing us down, so we'll have to suffer with one camera and the backup microphone. Also, here's this."

Mike pulled a pistol out of his left shoe and tossed it over to the cameraman. He grabbed himself another pistol from his other shoe and made sure it was loaded. "Keep your safety on while we're in here, but out there, shoot anything with a red armband. Clear?"

"How did you get these through customs?" his cameraman questioned, shocked that the reporter had not one, but two, pistols.

"Let's just say I know a couple of people. As soon as you're ready, we're heading out."

The cameraman nervously stood up and turned the small box television off. The building they were currently in, a compact diner along a small road just outside the city, spit dust every time an explosion rocked the air around them. The owners of the diner had left less than half an hour ago in an attempt to help fight against the invading force.

Mike and the cameraman were slowly walking towards the front of the building until the lobby door swung open. A Nazi in a full black uniform entered, pistol raised. Mike immediately aimed and fired, landing a shot square in the chest.

"I thought you said we were keeping our safety on!" The cameraman howled, his voice rising in pitch.

"No, I said you need to keep your safety on. You're not the trained gun expert here, I am."

"Then why don't you use both of the pistols?"

"Alright, fine. Give it back, then."

With both pistols in his hands, Mike led the way out of the diner and downtown. The cameraman stopped to pick up the dead Nazi's gun along the way, despite just having given up the other pistol.

"We move undercover, and we move as one. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," the cameraman replied, giving a sloppy salute.

"It's been a while since I've heard that," Mike chuckled.

-=[ ]=-

The duo inched their way through part of the city, taking back roads and alleys to avoid being found by any large groups of enemies. They were trying to reach the broadcast building of one of the largest Mexican radio and television enterprises, where the rest of their crew was stationed. From there, the reporter reasoned that he could take over for himself, or at least send some important messages.

Unfortunately, getting closer to the broadcast station meant getting closer to the National Palace, which also meant getting closer to the Nazi hub. They were finding it harder to navigate without having to stop for a patrol squad to pass by. Mike worried that someone had already raided the building. If so, they were on their own, and there was no way two men could take on a building full of Nazis.