10 – Holding On

Jack left women behind in the room without turning back. He had left a card with his pager and SAT phone number on the bed. That was enough. Hopefully, they wouldn't need to use it. He'd done everything he could for the moment. The men would be waiting. They would need to see their commander. He'd already been in contact with his subordinates and department heads via the telephone throughout the afternoon, but it was more than that. A leader needed to be seen. So, he left with a cohort of men dressed in military fatigues, carrying the latest automatic rifles equipped with pulse bombs that R&D had developed. Happily, they'd even brought along an extra for him.

In the subsequent hours they patrolled the entire base, following leads and reinforcing areas that were undermanned. He tried to be everywhere at once. Sometimes, Jack ran ahead of the group, since he could easily do so. R&D, Engineering, Medical, and Aviation had all been hit over the course of the afternoon and early evening. He had never invested much thought towards any of them being soft targets. A military base, by definition, wasn't one. It shouldn't have them. There were going to have to be a lot of changes. Soldiers would protect every single department from now on. And he'd have Ana place contacts within each squad to keep an eye on things. Intelligence had, admittedly, predicted an attack could occur at any time. They simply assumed it would be something large, headed by machines. They were prepared for that. They had not been prepared for small scale infiltration and assassinations attempts upon the support staff.

Truth be told, he should have run things more securely from the beginning. The mistake had cost lives. But there had been so, so many missions lately. The UN was keeping them busy, while they waited on the Swedish Watch point to be completed. And he'd only been in charge for a short time. Gabe seemed to be losing it, acting like he hated everyone. Things were…getting difficult. Responsibility had given him his first few gray hairs in a matter of weeks. It was far too soon for that.

Of the six targeted assassinations, three were successful attempts. A doctor, a researcher, and an engineer. Three others survived, also a doctor, researcher, and engineer. Of those three, two had survived by luck, including his doctor. His? Best not to make that assumption. It was a desire, nothing more. One he probably didn't have time to fulfill. Only one of the marks had been in the position to defend himself. That was going to have to change. Lindholm was a huge man, he should be able to protect himself with the right tools, but convincing a doctor to shoot a gun might be difficult. Jack wasn't sure. He wouldn't force her, but she would have to carry some sort of protection. Thoughts for later.

The snow had resumed by the early hours of the morning, the sky reflecting a heavy red glow above the street lamps. Jack and his men patrolled each area that had been targeted again and again, helping wherever they could. Lindholm's entire shop was gone. The R&D lab had also taken a hit, but much of the sensitive research and technology was protected behind various forms of safety glass, so damage was mitigated to exterior and non-essential areas within the lab. That was a bright spot. Though it was a tragedy about the people who didn't survive. Here and there, a binder still smoldered. It was funny how fires would often start up again if not properly extinguished.

"What about the perpetrators?" Ana had caught up with him at what was left of the R&D facility after leaving Lindholm's shop. The man was a mess. Ana had assigned security to him, and moved on. It seemed heartless, but there was not much he could say that would make up for what the man had loss. Jack knew. Friends, coworkers, protégées. On top of that, the facility was gone, and much of his work. Jack stood silently, looking over the wreckage of the research facility. At least the hospital hadn't been directly hit. Both of the Doctors who had been marks were away from work at the time. Angela was walking home, and the other doctor was asleep in his bed. He'd never had a chance.

"Who?"

"Definitely Talon."

Jack grunted. "How many, do you know?" They departed the research lab, which was located in a large, isolated wing within the medical complex. It had a little lighted path that led from it to the main road.

"We caught two, technically. HQ thinks there were at least three, but the investigation is ongoing. They also say it's possible that we still have moles. I have people watching, everywhere. Gabriel's unit caught one, but he bit his tongue and bled out all over the ground. It was a mess. The other one had the misfortune to attack a researcher named Winston. That man…"

Jack knew. Winston was different. He was also brilliant, and unbelievably strong.

They hit the main road, and begun head east along the main road, away from the hospital and barracks, and towards the open fields and landing strip. Colorful lights alternating red, blue, and green dotted the ground ahead where aircraft occasionally came and went. Jack had immediately requested additional backup from one of the larger European bases in the west. They would be moving to the base in Sweden soon, but until then…he had to protect his assets. His mind wandered back to the Doctor. He felt a strange warmth welling up within his stomach before he reasserted control over his emotions.

"When are the Germans due in?"

Ana's smile was genuine. She was expecting a person she was rather fond of on that airplane, Jack knew. "Any time now." Seeing his competent second in command have someone she cared enough to raise a family with in this sort of world bolstered him. Maybe it was okay to have selfish emotions, after all.

The next few days after the assault on the base went by in a sort of haze. Angela went to work, always escorted by someone with a large rifle. She always took the main path to the hospital both ways. She never returned to her room.

"Come stay with me, love." Lena had said.

"I don't want to impose." Angela replied, though she had secretly been wishing for an invitation.

"It's not like you're ever going to be home anyway!" That was true. Angela could easily sleep over in the on-call room most evenings, and spent a good deal of her time at work. There had been a lot of collateral damage. "Come on Ang."

Reluctantly, in the end, Angela had agreed. She had mixed feelings. She didn't want to be alone, but she didn't want to cause Lena trouble either. What if someone came after her again, and Lena got hurt? Several people had passed away on the day of the assault, who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which was sad, because that was where they belonged. That was their workspace. It seemed a reasonable expectation not to be murdered within it as noncombatants. The world didn't work that way anymore, Angela supposed. Everything had changed, and nowhere was safe. Angela firmly believed that she'd never be safe again. She hadn't been safe since the day this had all started. No one had.

She thought about Jack often when she was alone. He had seemed very…caring. Beyond being overwhelmingly attractive, he was a warm person. His presence had been so reassuring on that day, when everything else was chaotic. She hadn't even seen his face since then. His card sat nestled safely within the identification compartment of her backpack; a sort of talisman. The backpack was a new accoutrement. She couldn't stand the idea of leaving her back exposed anymore. Even if the backpack provided no actual protection, it did provide peace of mind. A sliver of it, anyway.

It was midmorning, when she and Lena met outside of the hospital to head over to the large field where the funeral for the fallen was to be held. Like most civilian employees, she wore black. The soldiers wore dress uniforms, deep navy blues and vivid royal blues, depending on rank. Each man or woman had an orderly variation of rank pins and service awards affixed to his breast pocket or shoulder, respectively. The only thing that outshone those gleaming pins was the shine of their boots. The mood was subdued as their community of soldiers and support staff gathered together. Not everyone was able to attend, of course, but most people came.

Sometime during the week, a plane had come from Germany, as evidenced by the mountainous men wearing gleaming armor. They looked like knights, Angela thought. They'd been helping provide security, but that was all she knew about them. One of the men caught her attention though. He had to be the biggest man Angela had ever seen. Had a huge, muscular barrel chest, and legs for days. He was uproariously loud. What drew her in even more was his company. Ana Amari along with a child and…Jack Morrison. They walked by, almost ten feet from her. Jack didn't notice her. Somewhere inside, there was a twinge. She…did miss the idea of him. Even if it was a terrifyingly unsafe idea.

"Whatcha' lookin' at?" Lena's head was on her shoulder. She knew exactly what. "Ah…yeah Jack's good looking for an old timer, I suppose." She was practically yelling. The commander paused for a moment, and Angela caught a breath. Her insides felt frozen. He had to know who Lena was talking to. Younger people had no sense of discretion! But he didn't turn around, and after a moment, kept walking. Angela could have crawled into a hole.

"You know, could go out and date someone yourself, and not concern yourself with who I find attractive. Besides, I was looking at him." Angela pointed to the large, loud man. "Have you ever heard of such an armor?"

"Yeah! They're Crusaders. They have crazy big weapons. You can only be one if you can fit into one of those giant armors they wear, and swing a weapon as big as…." Lena seemed to look around for a comparison of scope. She looked back at Angela and grinned, spreading her arms apart. "They carry weapons about as big as you or me, and swing them around like they're nothing."

"Ahh…." Angela's interest was redoubled. She wanted to meet this boisterous German Crusader, but couldn't think of a reason to do so. And whose child was that? She resembled Ana Amari, but who was the father? They continued onward, towards the meeting place where the pyre would be lit. All the while, Angela had a decent view of the commanders' admirable backside. After a while, a chaplain came and lead a nondenominational memorial for the fallen. Many people had been touched by the loss of a friend or coworker, but few shed tears. Many people had cried for their loved ones in the beginning of the conflict, but as entire cities were engulfed, and families disappeared, the humans who remained were hardened.

Each person was given a small wooden torch to add to the pyre, in lieu of letting everyone who wanted to speak. Such an event could go on for days. Lena went first, and excused herself to go speak with another pilot for a moment. Angela kissed her on the cheek and waved. They agreed to meet up at home, and have a few drinks.

When Angela took her turn, she looked out into the crowd through the wavering curtain of heat. The smoke was becoming rather thick, though there were no actual bodies burning. They'd been buried immediately after the assault. This was symbolic, more for the living than the dead. Since they couldn't do anything more for their fallen friends in such large numbers. She looked out at the crowd, holding her torch. The faces of the men and women out there were so bleak. It was okay to cry. But Angela found no tears waiting.

She paused, wavering in place. She didn't want to say goodbye. She didn't want this. Dropping the torch on to the pyre was accepting events as they happened…and she…

Finally, tears blurred her vision, and smoke stung her eyes. Angela was glad nobody could see. This was a personal time to reflect. Many people probably felt as much as she did, but were strong enough not to show it on their face. She managed to bury her feelings and thoughts before dropping her little torch onto the pyre. But to do so for more than a few minutes was impossible. So she wiped her eyes, and hurriedly walking away from the pyre in search of a quiet spot. Just for a moment.

The field was on the far eastern end of the base annex, but there was a buffer stand of woods between the perimeter fence and it. It offered the only convenient privacy nearby. Angela started into the woods, only to have a firm hand grasp her wrist and yank her back towards the field. It was no one she knew personally. The soldier stood resplendent in this dress uniform, gleaming and pressed from head to toe. But tears welled in his red-rimmed eyes, and his disgust for her was thinly veiled.

"Miss, you need to turn around, and head back to the funeral, or head home. This isn't a safe place. No one should be alone." It wasn't a suggestion. His hand was so tight around her wrist that it hurt.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I just. I needed a moment. I lost someone, too." She had, they'd been coworkers, and she felt their loss intimately.

The soldier's face suffused with red. "If you weren't here, they'd probably still be here, just so you know. Lots of people would still be here. But you aren't thinking about them. So off you trot, into the woods alone, behaving as if there's nothing dangerous about that at all." He was right. Angela hung her head. The tears fell in earnest, now. She was ashamed. It would have been better to mourn among the safety of the crowd.

"You're right, of course. I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted to be alone."

His expression was at war. He seemed to believe that the targets were at fault for the attack and collateral damage. But he wanted to do his duty. She was making things difficult. But he was, as well. He had no right to grab her. He could easily make his points without being so abusive. But, he was a young man. He had lost people. Was he wrong to feel that it was, in part, her fault? No, there was truth in that. But it was tactless, it was hurtful, and it…now was not the time. Or maybe, it was the perfect time. Everyone mourned differently. Angela realized she was just this man's scapegoat.

"Okay, of course, I'll go back now." Her tears were dry. The little side trip had been cathartic. It might seem self-immolating, but having someone else hate her besides herself was a relief. It made her feel normal. She'd have to report this young man, so he could be psychologically evaluated. He clearly needed some help with his anger issues. She moved to go, but the soldier hadn't let go of her wrist. If anything, his grip was tightening. It had become alarmingly painful. His eyes were looking beyond her, nowhere in particular.

"Mister…" She looked for his nametag, but found that it wasn't where it should be. His eyes were wild, face flushed. Little mental alarms began to sing throughout Angela's psyche. She distantly heard the funeral bell tolling. It was so loud. It would drown out everything. It would ring once for every fallen comrade. That was seventy times…

She was flying through the air before she finished thinking the thought. Her back slammed against a nearby tree. Oak? She didn't know. The backpack she wore spared her from the brunt of it, but it still stung. The air exploded from her lungs, and she sank to the ground. Even if she did shout, nobody would hear over the bell. This man was simply angry. What at first seemed like a mutual exercise in cathartic release had morphed into something abusive and dark. Angela had once again been too naïve about her surroundings.

"Stop. Young man. You stop this instant." She used her most commanding voice, desperately trying to keep it from shaking, even a little. Even though she was young, she had a matronly aspect that could get under the skin of others. "You said what you needed to say. You're right. I don't disagree with any one thing you've said completely. But there's no reason to take this further. Please just go back now. I won't say anything, so just go back." His eyes widened at her. He seemed to suddenly weigh the potential consequences of his actions. He stood there, his face a shroud. Angela was terrified, but she'd managed not to show it, or sound like it. That might play to her advantage. Or it might make things worse.

She would never know what the young man decided to do though, because he was suddenly no longer standing over her. He collapsed into an unconscious heap with a resounding crack. That was a broken jaw, to be sure. Angela, who was huddled with her back against the tree and her arms wrapped around her knees, never saw Jack coming. But there he was, standing over her. He'd knocked the other man out with a single punch, and now stood staring down at her. The urge to shrink down and not be noticed was overwhelming, all things considered. Would he be mad at her, too?

"Dr. Ziegler."

She looked up. He was being formal. He was dressed formally too. Royal blue, pressed and pinned, shining. A knight in shining blue armor.

"Yes?" It was all she could say without giving herself away.

"What are you doing down there, playing in the dirt? I didn't realize that was part of your research." Oh, bless him.

He extended a hand down to her, and she hesitated. It was gloved in white, and totally pristine. She looked down at her hands, which were comparably filthy.

She began to stand up on her own. "Ah…sorry…they're dirty…thanks, anyway…" As per his habit, he moved more quickly than she easily perceive. With both of those pristine, gloved hands he grasped her arms just above the elbows, and hoisted her up to her feet. But instead of letting her be, he pulled her immediately into a smothering embrace. He was significantly taller than her, so her face squished comfortably into his solar plexus. His arms exuded warmth, and strength. She was too surprised to resist. And it was so pleasant, what sane person would?

"I thought I told you…never to go anywhere alone." He sounded as aggrieved as she felt. "I know I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. But please. I'm asking." His voice was barely audible, almost a whisper. His mouth had to be close to her ear. "I don't want to lose any more friends out here. I know I'm busy, but if you need anything…I can make time. So don't do things like this."

Angela was quiet. Her mind and heart were in warring states. She was being embraced by a man. That was one thing. A man who had saved her more than once. She was starting to feel a little ashamed. And enamored. Ah, it was confusing.

"Jack…"

"What is it?"

"Teach me how to shoot."

He squeezed her tightly against him. "You don't need to learn how to do that, if you don't want to. You just have to stay out of places like this."

"I know that I don't need to. I want to. I've been learning a lot of lessons about the world lately." She tried to avoid looking at the collapsed soldier. Her feelings were mixed about him, as well. She saw that he followed her eyes. "Don't punish him too harshly."

"Have to."

"Please?"

"It's one thing to be upset, it's another to act on that feeling." The tone in his voice said it wasn't up for debate. She let it go. It wasn't her decision, since he wasn't in her chain of command. It wasn't the decision she would make though. There were many juxtapositions between healers and soldiers, Angela supposed.

"Don't worry. It'll be a few months mopping in the rain and cleaning latrines. He'll also be eating through a straw for a long time. And those teeth won't be coming back. Humble pie never hurt anyone, where I come from. Neither did a good, sound ass-kicking, but they tend to frown upon that these days."

After what felt like an eternity he released her. Angela had to make a concerted effort not to wobble, he legs felt entirely too watery beneath her.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah." She did.

"Alright, let's get going. I'll walk you home."

He did.