Marcus was silent as he steered the boat toward the dock, listening as Anya spoke with someone over the com-link, asking what should be done with the unidentified bodies onboard. The gruff male voice—Marcus couldn't quite make out who it was— instructed her to leave it to his men, his tone quite clearly suggesting he planned on dumping the corpses into the ocean before calling it a day.
"Roger that," Anya replied in her calm CIC voice, removing her fingers from her earpiece.
"No use in trying to have them identified," Marcus stated, reading her thoughts without taking his icy blue eyes off of the windshield in front of him. Baird, who'd just come back inside with Cole, eyed Marcus as he spoke.
"We know who they worked for. Besides, if anyone can shed some light on this, it'll be Hoffman. Anvil Gate's got more Intel than we do."
It was settled before the question had even been asked. They were headed back to Anvil Gate. While Azura had been converted into something of a military bunker, the historic fort on the mainland was home base; extra guns, ammunition, even the last of the refined imulsion they could spare had been relocated there to be stored and distributed accordingly. What remained of the COG higher-ups all agreed that it should become their new capitol, putting Colonel Victor Hoffman in charge of operations. Marcus too found it fitting for the old gear, along with Bernadette Mataki—all that remained of the Unvanquished—to oversee the place until he was no longer fit to perform his duties. It was what he and Bernie had wanted, after all.
"They've been keeping tabs on the Stranded groups," the sergeant continued, otherwise completely fixated on the distance.
"But—" Baird was mid-protest before Marcus continued as if he'd never interrupted.
"If there's anyone out there who can tell us where they might've come from, it'll be him."
Baird huffed, apparently unimpressed, but kept his mouth shut for the moment.
"But what does he want Marcus? Anya's subdued tone was troubled, matching her expression. "Do you really think that Griffin would go through all that trouble just to 'get even' with you? I mean, even so, then why Sam?" She shrugged, squinting her eyes. "The pieces just don't fit."
"You're right. They don't." Marcus took his time before replying, doing a slow blink as he brought the boat to a gentle stop. It shuddered, the engine making some depressing sounds; the tell-tale signs of its collision earlier that morning. Marcus exhaled softly. The last thing they needed was another vehicle in disrepair. He turned towards the door, where Clayton Carmine and two other helmeted gears burst in. Marcus noticed absentmindedly that the boat wasn't even tied to the dock yet.
"Bastards," Carmine growled, crouching next to one of his fallen comrades. He glanced briefly at the enemies lying lifelessly to his left before hoisting the corpse over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, gesturing to one of his companions to take care of the remaining dead gear. Cole and Jace took a couple steps back to make room for them, stealing a grim look at each other.
"Harvey's guys'll take care of the others" a mechanical voice stated, gesturing towards what remained of the bloody mess. His helmeted gaze lingered for half a second on Baird, who was kneeling beside the bodies, rummaging through their weapons and kit, but decided to leave it alone. Cole handed the gear the dead men's COG tags with a solemn nod.
"Thanks." Marcus held the door for the three as they filed out.
"No trouble at all Fenix," Carmine replied, voice respectfully subdued. Marcus gave him a knowing look before releasing his gaze. Some things you never really get used to.
"Come on Baird, let's go get you checked out," Cole finally broke the silence, offering Baird his hand.
"I told you I'm fine," Baird stated unconvincingly, taking his friend's proffered hand, heaving himself up, careful to keep his footing.
"You could have a concussion," Marcus stated. "I want to make sure you're alright before we ship out."
"Heartwarming," Baird muttered dryly. Anya opened her mouth to back Marcus up, but the sergeant shook his head with a tired sigh. Just let it go. He had known Baird long enough to understand sarcasm was just his way of coping.
"What's all this shit about Anvil Gate anyway?" Baird sounded genuinely agitated, squinting against the midday sun as they walked along the somewhat crowded dock. "We know where those assholes came from, let get moving fuck's sake." The man shrugged, miming bewilderment.
"You can barely stand," Marcus spat, losing his patience with the surly blond. The way Baird would so casually defy authority still got under his skin.
"Screw you, man." Baird stalked off, just barely retaining his balance as he removed his chest plate along the way, dropping it thoughtlessly behind him.
"Follow him," Marcus barked, addressing Cole. "Make sure his sees a doctor." Cole nodded once, and jogged off in Baird's direction.
"He doesn't understand," Marcus muttered, letting Anya keep pace with him as he brooded, jaw working intensely.
"I know Marcus. Baird can be pretty irrational when he's upset," she sympathized. He shook his head slowly, almost nervously. The lieutenant's brow furrowed.
"Anya, I don't think those men came from Char."
