Prodigy
June 4, 2035
Panay Island, Phillipines
Smoke rose from a blackened charred area. US Marines covered the area, taking pictures, securing the area. Two young officers directed the involvement. One sighed.
"How many?"
"Three. Four more wounded. Heard one ain't gonna last the night."
"Shit."
"It was a dirty bomb, what do you expect?"
"What are the Philipino forces doing?"
"What do you think? Intel suggests that some high ranking Philipino officers are corrupt and on terrorist payroll. These guys are next to useless."
"That's a little harsh."
"I know…it's just… they don't need any caskets today man."
"What's our response?"
"Col. Raq hasn't said anything, but rumors are MARSOC is sending in some kinda expert. Some…terrorist hunter. They say she's the best."
"She?"
"It's 2035 dude. You really that surprised?"
"She from…you know…the spook town?"
"Langley? Rumors say DIA or DoD, but it's possible."
"Hey, wait a second. Is that a stealth chopper?"
As stated by the marine, a stealth, Sikorsky UH-60 Black hawk, flew over the area, before circling back in low. It reached the outer perimeter of the area, and then touched down on the ground. Out stepped two individuals.
One was a man of average height. Red hair, kept short. A small scar dotted his forehead. A few wrinkles but not many. Probably about his late thirties, maybe early forties. Not an unattractive man. He wore the USMC standard BDUs, with an MP7 strapped to his hip.
The other was a woman, a very beautiful woman. Early twenties brown hair, kept short enough to where she didn't require a bun, yet two bangs shaped her face. She wore dark sunglasses over her eyes, and she had flawless, pale skin. She too, wore USMC BDUs, only she wore a leather jacket over them. A side arm was strapped to her upper thigh.
"Holy SHIT! Is THAT her!?"
"I don't know man. I'm just trying to imagine her in just those boots and that pistol strap."
The two newcomers walked over to the crater site.
"Jesus, how the hell are you are you wearing that jacket Cabbie, it's hot as balls here." The man said.
"It breathes well Max. Besides, it's not that hot." The woman called Cabbie said.
"It's the fucking summer in the Philippines! It is VERY hot." Max replied.
The woman smiled and shook her head, before growing grim as she inspected the site of the terrorist attack. Kneeling, she studied everything around her.
"Do we have any remnants of the bomb?" She called out.
"Right here ma'am." A marine jogged over with a bag of twisted metal and electronics.
"Shrewd, homemade explosive," she said inspecting the contents of the bag, before examining the crater as well as the surrounding area. "…attached to a car."
"That's correct ma'am. The vehicle drove through the vehicle. When our marines went to respond and retrieve the driver, the vehicle detonated."
"Fuckin A." Max said with a sigh.
The woman stood. "I'm so sorry for the loss of your marines Sergeant."
"Thank you ma'am. I… is there anything else you can do ma'am? Any clue who did this?"
At that, she smiled. "Oh I'm gonna find out Sergeant. And then I'm gonna find him. Have all the evidence turned over to USS Blackburn."
She returned the bag to the marine and started back to the waiting chopper.
Max jogged up to her. "You can find out who did it?"
"C'mon Max, you know me. I already know who did it."
Max rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. "Why do I even bother asking?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe for some self-assurance? Or perhaps you always flesh your own, inferior intelligence on to me when asking these questions." She teased.
"You realize I am your superior officer, Lietenant."
"Oh I am DEEPLY sorry Captain Donald. I apologize for speaking the truth without asking." She said with a smile.
Max shook his head as he boarded the chopper with her. "I swear Cabbie. You are gonna be the death of me."
000
Aboard the USS Blackburn
She stared vehemently into her computer screen, typing every so often, and then stared again. Max leaned against the table. He learned a long time ago it was better to let her work.
The door to the room opened and in stepped an aged man, several years older than Max, also decked in USMC BDUs and a pair of sunglasses. His however, did not fit him well. Max snapped a salute, while the woman continued working. Neither Max nor the officer were surprised by this.
"Colonel Hunt sir."
"At ease Captain. Lieutenant Booth, what can you tell me?'
"What can I tell you sir? Those shades are not working for you. Try black Aviators. They're much more intimidating."
Col. Hunt rolled his eyes, but fought down a small smirk. "What do you know about the attack Lietenant?"
Christine smiled. "Well, it was definitely Ayaf Aziz, a known extremist from Indonesia. What's odd is that the bomb and target were from the Philippines."
"How do you know the bomb was made in the Philippines?"
"The metal was made from a sub-par furnace, one definitely not from the 21st century." She explained.
"But Indonesia isn't the most well off in the tech department either." Max stated.
"Yes, but the furnace used left charring marks all over the metal. It's congruent with furnaces built in the Philippines during the second world war. Savos will take a closer look at once we get back stateside. I also expect we'll see a video from him declaring this was his doing once the news reports casualties. After all, he doesn't want to take credit for a faulty bomb that did nothing. "
"How do you know the char marks aren't from detonation?" Col. Hunt asked.
Christine turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
"Right, sorry. You're a genius."
"Genius doesn't begin to explain my level of intelligence. But thank you."
"Anything else?"
"Definitely detonated with the use of a cellphone, so the user was within visual range of the base."
"I'll tell Col. Raq to check the bases outer cameras."
"There are also some remnants of spores on some of the lesser damaged parts."
"Scanners can't tell what they are?" Max asked.
Christine shook her head. "Too little of them. And they're damaged."
"Can you figure out what they are?" Col. Hunt questioned.
"No… but I know someone who can… Col. Hunt, request permission to take the spores and have a civilian analyze them?"
"Permission granted, so long as it's just the spores."
"Thank you sir, they may help us track Aziz down once and for all."
"Very good. Booth, Donald, we should be back home within the day." The Colonel then turned and exited the lab room.
"You know Cabbie, when we get back we have to get Arny's replacement. The guy retired to be with his family more." Max said.
"I'm aware, and it's already been done." Christine answered.
Max blinked. "You realize I'm the leader in this outfit. I pick the team."
"Oh relax old man. I only pick the best. Besides you'll like him."
"Who'd you get?"
"Gunnery Sergeant Isaac Robson, USMC Force Recon."
"Robson? Ain't he the guy who beat-"
"My father's record for the longest shot taken? Yes that's him." She interrupted.
"…okay then."
"That's what I thought." She finished with a smirk.
000
June 5, 2035
Cantilever Group mansion grounds, United States of America
Christine walked up to the very large door of the very large Cantilever mansion (which had taken her quite a while due to the size of the grounds)
A butler quickly opened the door after her knocking. "Ah, Madame Christine. Always a pleasant surprise."
"Hey Edwin. Mind if I see my Uncle?"
"Of course not Madame. He and Madame Angela are out on the veranda."
"Excellent. Thanks Edwin."
"Of course Madame."
Christine had been in the house often during her childhood, after the family had their money returned once Pelant had been taken down. Navigating through the long halls and stairs, some important memories of her childhood washing over her. She loved coming here. Not because it was wealthy, but…peaceful. Yet somehow, lively. Considering the two people that owned the place, it wasn't surprising.
Coming out onto the veranda, she noticed her Uncle, Jack Hodgins, standing there alone. Time had been kind to Jack, his hair still in full color, his beard hiding any possibly existing age marks. And when you can afford literally every exercising piece of equipment on the planet, you stayed in shape.
"Uncle Hodgins." She called out.
Jack Hodgins spun upon hearing her voice, a large smile immediately adorning his face. "Christine!" He almost shouted as he ran over to her, embracing her in a powerful hug. "How've you been? You're back in town?"
"I'm doing very well Uncle Hodgins, thank you. And yes I'm back. I need to fill a slot on my team since my old sniper retired."
"Parker, or Max can't do it?" he said jokingly, knowing the answer.
Christine rolled her eyes. "Max is in the Coast Guard, and Parker only did one military tour. Besides, he was Army. I have to show some respect for my branch. No way they'd let him in the team."
"I still think joining the Marines to annoy your dad is hysterical."
"I didn't join them to make him mad. That was just a pleasant side effect at the time. I joined the Marines because they were harder."
"Yeah, yeah. So how long are you back?" He asked.
"A few days probably. It depends."
"Depends?"
"On how long it takes me to convince this sniper to join my team, and for you."
"Me?"
"You don't think I came out here without a gift did you?" She said hold the bag with a piece of shrapnel from the bomb. Hodgins lit up at the sight.
"There are spores on the metal." She said, smiling." Think you can identify them for me?"
"Hell yeah! I'll run them in the lab tomorrow at work."
"Christine!" A voice happily called out to her.
She turned. "Aunt Angie!" She shouted, running to embrace he godmother.
"Oh my God, how are you?"
"I'm good, really good."
"You are totally staying for dinner. No arguments."
Christine smiled. "I can't. I have to recruit someone for my team, and then see my parents. Tomorrow?"
"Fine then, tomorrow."
"Thanks Aunt Angie. And I'm sorry but I have to go. I came over for a favor. But I promise, dinner tomorrow."
"You better."
000
Firing range just outside Washington DC
A lone man fired an M1911A1 at a target sheet at its farthest setting. He was a good looking man, mid-twenties. Light brown hair, eyes that got greenish as you got closer to the pupil. He wore a matte-green t-shirt that fit his muscled body well, brown cargo pants, and black boots. A few tattoos dotted his arms.
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
"Not surprised to find you here." A voice from behind called. He turned to see a beautiful woman standing in the doorway. He turned back down range.
BANG
"Gunnery-"
BANG
Christine stared annoyingly at him. "You done?"
"Nope," he said, loading a new magazine into the side arm.
"Gunnery Sergeant Robson, I'm Lietenant Booth." Christine introduced, walking to him.
"Booth? I've heard of you. CIA right?"
"Nope. Those are rumors."
"Rumors can be true."
"Well this one isn't."
Isaac lowered the weapon. "What can I do you for, Lt?"
"I'm here to talk to you about your reassignment."
"The reassignment that pulled me from my unit." He stated.
"Yes. We have great need of your skills Gunny."
"So does my unit."
"You will be able to use your skillset quite more often in MY unit."
"The spook unit?"
Christine blinked, yet held a small smile. "Why Gunny, it's almost as if you don't trust me? I'm a marine just like you."
"You want my trust ma'am?" he said facing her with a small smile. "I only trust those I respect. And I only respect those who earn it."
"How can I earn it?"
"Can you shoot?" he asked.
"That's it? Hit a target?"
"You'd be surprised how many officer I see screw that one thing up."
Christine held the smile. She then grabbed his weapon and pointed it downrange with one hand. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG.
She placed the pistol down and pulled out a small card. "My contact info is on that." She said walking away.
Isaac looked down at the card, then at the target sheet. He snorted. "You missed. EVERY shot."
Christine paused at the door, turning to him with a haughty smile. "No I didn't." She said, before walking out the door.
Isaac shook his head, hitting the button to bring the target sheet back. Once in front of him he examined, seeing only the holes from his shots. He snorted again, then paused. His eyes widened as realization hit him.
"Son of a bitch."