Jake felt a wave of excitement wash through him as he finally laid eyes on the Los Demonios base. However, while he had finally pinpointed the base of the bandit gang he had declared war on, he was reluctant to be hasty. So he spent the next several hours taking in the activity within the tall perimeter walls, pondering his next move.
As he had already noticed, various structures and contraptions lay scattered around the camp. They hummed with activity, churning out essential supplies like food, tools, and ammo. The base seemed to be self-sufficient, producing everything its inhabitants needed to survive in this harsh world. The air was filled with the sounds of machinery, voices, and the roar of the engines of vehicles, which occasionally drove in or out of the base.
So, this was the stronghold he had vowed to take down, and now it was right in front of him. He carefully absorbed everything—the towering perimeter walls that loomed above the base, the vigilant guards patrolling the grounds, the AI-controlled turrets scanning the area outside, and the constant activity within. From his vantage point, he could see clusters of people engaged in various tasks: some tinkering with makeshift machines, others hauling supplies, and a few deep in discussion, perhaps planning their next raid.
Jake paid special attention to the people inside the base. He noticed that not all of them wore red bandanas or scarves. Those who did were legitimate members of the gang, each armed and carrying themselves with an overconfident demeanor, acting like they owned the place. The other group of people was unnamed and not wearing anything red. From the way they were treated, it was obvious they weren’t members of the gang, but rather regular survivors who had been captured and coerced to do manual labor for the gang.
The workers toiled diligently to keep the facility running smoothly, conducting maintenance on various mechanisms and contraptions. They were probably categorized as machinery mechanics or engineers based on their skills. Each peculiar, large mechanism featured a computer panel integrated into one of its surfaces, and Jake frequently saw workers stepping up to read the data displayed on the screens. Other workers collected items from the contraptions that had produced goods and carried them to what appeared to be storage units.
The armed gang members who weren’t engaged in patrolling the area or any other activities watched the workers, occasionally yelling at them to work harder and faster, even though the workers were too scared to slack off. The bandits snapped at the workers for visibly no other reason than to assert their dominance.
At one point, Jake even witnessed a gangster stride up to a worker reading data from a contraption’s screen and suddenly strike him with the butt of his assault rifle, sending the unfortunate worker sprawling to the ground. The bandit followed up by kicking him in the ribs for good measure.
When the worker finally got to his feet, blood trickled down from the side of his head where he had been struck. The gangster shouted at him, but Jake was too far away to hear the exact words, leaving him puzzled about the cause of the bandit’s fury. Had the worker actually done something wrong, or had the gangster simply taken out his pent-up anger on him? Jake couldn’t tell. The worker resumed his duties, a trickle of blood running from the wound. The poor guy wasn’t even offered a stim to heal himself.
Then the bandit left the worker alone, and the latter continued to work on the large device, occasionally stealing quick glances at the screen to read the data. The nearby workers pretended not to notice the brief act of mindless violence that had just occurred. As the aggressive bandit strode past them, they averted their gazes, concentrating intently on their own assignments and hoping he wouldn’t take his anger out on them next. They made every effort to appear fully occupied and hard at work.
Some of the workers visibly trembled with fear as the bandit sauntered by. He couldn’t help but notice the effect he had on them, relishing every second, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. Though he was just a regular soldier in the gang, he took pleasure in the power he wielded over the ordinary workers. While the other gangsters refrained from violence at that moment, they clearly treated the workers in a similar manner, regarding them with the same contempt.
Jake was torn by conflicting feelings. Anger bubbled inside of him as he eyed the gang responsible for so much suffering. Yet, a spark of curiosity flickered within him as well. How had Los Demonios managed to achieve this entirely self-sustained operation? The ingenuity it took to build such a place intrigued him, even if it was for nefarious purposes. He wondered where the resources to build this facility had come from. He longed to know.
As he continued to observe the activity within the perimeter walls, Jake carefully pondered his next move. Although he didn’t plan to launch an immediate assault on the base, thoughts of an attack were already brewing. A Gravity Leap followed by a double jump could easily take him over the tall perimeter walls and onto the base grounds. However, charging in recklessly could lead to a failure—or worse, death. Jake was confident in his ability to deal with the bandits, but he had no idea how powerful the turrets that topped the watchtowers might be. Before initiating an attack, he knew he needed to gather more intelligence, learn his foes’ patterns, and pinpoint vulnerabilities in their defenses. After all, information could be as powerful as any weapon.
Jake continued to patiently observe the movements inside the compound, noting the patterns in the guards’ shifts and the behavior of the AI-operated turrets. He knew he needed to remain hidden, biding his time until the right moment arose. It wasn’t just about obliteration, but it was about dismantling Los Demonios from the inside out, crippling their operations in a way that would ensure they couldn’t simply rebuild. Destroying this base would only be the first step toward accomplishing his goal, as it was clear that this location wasn’t their main stronghold—it was just too small for that.
He was aware that the gang had an impressive fleet of vehicles, including not just cars but also numerous helicopters. There had to be many more members in the gang, yet the base below appeared capable of housing only a few dozen people in total. The small parking area inside the base contained a couple of large SUVs, and there was only enough space left for a handful of additional vehicles.
On the eastern side of the base was the only helipad, and it was currently empty. There weren’t any other suitable landing spots for helicopters within the compound. Clearly, this base was merely one of many controlled by Los Demonios, and it certainly wasn’t their main operational hub. Wherever land vehicles and aircraft belonging to the gang were manufactured, it definitely wasn’t done here. Jake was convinced that all the gang’s vehicles were created from scratch, not scavenged, because they didn’t have a post-apocalyptic look to them. Instead, they appeared pristine, brand-new, as if produced in factories. Some of the vehicles, particularly the aircraft and motorbikes, even sported futuristic designs. While the base produced some survival necessities and equipment, it was obvious that larger items like vehicles were manufactured elsewhere.
Suddenly, a disturbance broke out at the farthest side of the base from his position, and Jake quickly turned his attention to that area to see what was going on.