December 23, 22:32 hours

So there we were. Just over 24 hours until the sleigh was scheduled to depart for the Big Guy’s yearly mission. When out of the present-wrapping blue, there was an earth shattering blast.

I managed to set my cocoa down before I grabbed my pistol, but Cammy didn’t even bother. She had her gun up and ready, and her cocoa left a brown trail in midair that didn’t hit the ground until she had already gotten to the door. By the time I poked my head and my gun out the door, she had already gotten cover behind a conveyer belt and lined up a shot.

All I could see was dust and dirt in the air. There were a few worker elves coughing and stumbling around. And a lot of shouting in the dust cloud.

Then I heard the footsteps. Tin feet, clanking on the concrete floor of the factory. And out of the dust, a line of them came.

Toy soldiers. I haven’t seen bleeping toy soldiers in years. They went out of vogue back when I was still in tactical training. But I’d been warned. Those pop guns can give you a nasty black eye, then when you’re stunned they like to run up and fillet you with those cheap tin bayonets.

“Wiry, get to cover!” Cammy yelled over the din, “I’ll take these buckos out!”

I nodded, and rolled out of the doorway. While I was rolling, I heard the distinct ‘phut’ sound of Cammy’s marshmallow gun. Instead of the crunch of a hit, I heard a soft ‘thwip’ of her round sticking to an enemy.

Oh, jingle bells. She was using T-4 rounds in an enclosed space again. That girl mixes her own taffy and C-4 to make the rounds extra sticky… and rumor has it that she puts a little something extra in there to give it a bigger kick.

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When the dust cleared again, there were tin limbs and torsos littering the warehouse. But the bigger dust cloud still obscured everything beyond this part of the toy factory. And we were still hearing screams.

Something glittered in the dust, but I held my fire. Plenty of elves here get covered in glitter, it’s a job hazard. Especially in the ornament division, and that was right next door.

But this wasn’t no toymaker. It was a blob of snow, with jagged bits of ice instead of teeth. More jagged bits of ice covered it all over. On the surface you’ll get what we call blobs. They’re just little blobs of animated snow. Mindless, vicious, but ultimately soft and harmless. Proto snowmen, maybe. The science division can never figure out where they come from. The wild herds of snowmen avoid them. But every now and then you get one that’s too dumb and stubborn to find shelter in the summer. When they’re out in the white nights, bits of them melt and refreeze. Instead of soft, blobby harmless snow, they develop spikes. We call these guys spikecicles.

Not so harmless. And the three others that slid out of the dust cloud looked equally unfriendly.

How in Kringle’s salty nuts did they get inside the building?

One of the workers was on the ground, frantically trying to crawl away. I took a quick snap shot with my pistol, but the industrial strength staple just chipped off a chunk of ice. To my left, I saw Cambo pop the T-4 clip out of her gun and pull out a clip of rock salt rounds. She’s efficient and she knows her fizzle, but I didn’t know if she could reload in time to save the worker.

With a sudden ‘twing’ and a matching ‘kerthunk’, a peppermint crossbow bolt embedded itself in the chunk of ice that the spikecicle uses as a brain. Its snowy eyes crossed, and it crumbled apart on the concrete.

Shade popped up out of nowhere and jabbed her ice picks into two more of the mean little snow cones. One of them collapsed, but the other one just roared and tried to shoulder check her into the wall. She took the hit as if it were nothing, and used the momentum to tear the ice pick out of the icy skull of the dead one. A few well placed pokes, and this one went down too.

That leaves one. And all I’ve got is my industrial strength staple gun.

Then I heard a click from my left, and Cammy popped up out of cover with her freshly loaded marshmallow gun.

The gun made a hollow pop, and the chunk of rock salt embedded in the spikecicle turned it into nothing more than a chunky wet spot on the concrete.

And that was it. The attack was over. There wasn’t any kind of silence, like you see in the movies. Elves were crying. Some machines were still running unattended. I looked around. In the doorway to the break room was Longshot, our sniper, holding his candy cane crossbow steady. I don’t know how in heckerdoodles Shade got past us, she was right there in the break room with me when the ruckus started. But that’s what she’s there for. To get past the enemy defenses and hit ‘em when their backs are turned.

She kicked at the spikecicle bodies to make sure they were dead. “Anybody got a peppermint? I’m bleeding a little. I’d hate to ruin my snow camo.”

“Hang on a minute.” came a familiar voice. Our medic, Doc Bubbly had already managed to squeeze past Longshot and was tending to the wounded. She pulled a peppermint out of her med kit and tossed it to Shade.

“Thanks Doc.” Tina Toodles, or Shade as we called her, wiped off her blades and then popped the mint into her mouth. I could see the bleeding already starting to slow.

We may not be happy little toymakers, but we’ve got just as much Christmas spirit as any other elf. The quickest way for us to heal up is to expose ourselves to positive Christmas juju. Downing a peppermint or a shot of hot buttered rum usually fixes us right up, unless we’re really hurt.

The PA system crackled, “Attention, all workshop employees. The attackers seem to have fled, it is safe to come out of hiding. Medical staff are being disbursed to help. All security and special forces, come to meeting room B for emergency dispatch. I repeat, all security and special forces are to report to meeting room B for emergency dispatch.”

I nodded to my team. “Our lockers are on the way. You’d better not take more than thirty seconds to grab your gear. Doc, hurry up what you can, then follow us.”

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Stay tuned for episode 2 tomorrow!