(AN: Ooookaaaay…so remember when I said that 'The Road Back' was going to be a two-parter? Well I mean a three parter, apologies! Seriously I stubbed out this arc last week and figured it would be a two-parter tops, but because this is the 33rd chapter, in honor of the Damned 33rd I decided to add some more plot twists. Enjoy!)
"I never did compliment you on that act you did this morning."
Louise looked up from the back of the wagon.
"Hmm?"
With help from the Delta Force sniper, Crosby had 'borrowed' a wagon from the palace guard's stable and now they were making their way back to Konrad's shop to drop off what was salvaged from the botched mission to Albion. A distant clock chimed quarter past ten in the morning.
"What do you mean?" The pinkette asked.
"That spiel you gave Count Wardes to provoke him into releasing the princess and dueling me, I was impressed. Wardes was impressed, too."
She shrugged.
"Well, I meant it. You are quite noble when you bother to be, and you are certainly have more right to the title of nobility than that treacherous count."
He grinned.
"I was more referring to the declarations of love. How did you put it?"
Crosby dropped the reins and clasped his hands together and mimicked her high-pitched voice.
"From the moment he set foot in my world, he stole my heart…We were destined to be together."
His hands went back to the reins.
"Pretty powerful stuff, my lady."
Louise blushed.
"T-that was nothing! That was just acting on my part!" She stammered.
Crosby chuckled.
"It's okay, my lady, I knew you were I was just teasing you. Besides I don't want to get your boyfriend Saito over here jealous."
She glared at him, flushed an even deeper pink in the face and started beating on the back his armored vest with her riding crop.
"STUPID! BODYGUARD! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID…"
Casually, the Zulu Squad sergeant grabbed her riding crop and tossed it into a river as they crossed over it. She resumed beating on him with her tiny fists, with no reaction from him.
Lugo watched this scene with a grin; Crosby sure knew how to push the pink-haired girl's buttons.
"Hey, Joe! Hand me the 8" crescent wrench."
Tebby had the maintenance hatch off the Little Bird and was up to his elbows in greasy engine parts. The added weight on the last flight and running it at higher rpms meant more checkups on the chopper's gearbox and oil system. When the sniper handed him the tool he looked over to him.
"Say, you never did tell me what the pretty green-haired lady in the white light told you."
The taciturn sniper was lost in thought. He recalled the moment their Little Bird crashed into Walker's Blackhawk. Like the lieutenant, he didn't feel fear or anger, just the consolation that nobody else would die that day. Then his world was engulfed in white light.
He saw her, the lady in the light, with flowing green hair that seemed tousled by an unseen wind and eyes the same color as her hair. Her radiant face smiled at him, but it was tinged with sadness.
"You looked up to him, didn't you? Which made the ensuing betrayal all the more painful, didn't it, Private Alexander Walker?"
Memories rushed past, his older brother Martin standing up for him in school, helping him with his homework, playing football with him, spending hours playing the original Contra. He remembered his brother's high school graduation, then Martin coming back from ROTC officer training over the summer, his graduation from college and his commissioning as a 2nd Lieutenant.
He remembered being so proud of him, and so envious. So when he turned 18 he immediately enlisted, and requested a transfer to his brother's unit; the 33rd Mobile Infantry Battalion, commanded by the legendary Colonel John Konrad.
He felt a soft hand touch his cheek, and looked up. It was the lady, still with the same sad smile.
"You must let go of that pain and regret, for every weave within the Great Tapestry has its own pattern that can only be read by those who were there when it was woven. Your pattern had run its course within the tapestry, and it was prewoven and unable to be changed. There is another tapestry, one where the pattern can be changed for the better, and you can help. If you will do this for me I will grant your heart's desire."
"With all due respect, ma'am, how do you know what I want?"
She took both his hands and came closer until their faces were mere inches apart.
"Your heart's desire is the simplest of all, and yet also the most difficult. But I will grant it to you."
She kissed him on the lips, and he felt a surge of electricity through his body, and the next thing he knew he was seated in his gunner's chair on the Little Bird.
He looked over to Tebby, who had paused in messing with the gearbox and was looking at him.
"She knew my name, my real name, I mean."
Tebby looked puzzled.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask ya about that, Joe. What is your real name?"
The sniper hung his head.
"It's Alex. Private First Class Alex Walker."
There was a clang, and he looked up to see Tebby's shocked expression, he had dropped his wrench. Alex smiled bitterly.
"Yeah, as in that Walker, I'm Captain Walker's younger brother."
He shook his head.
"I looked up to him, and joined the Army because of him. We served together briefly, I wasn't in his platoon, brass was already having a shit-fit about two family members serving in the same battalion. When I was a newcomer and was getting orientation, I saw him and he was about the same as I remembered. Then Kabul happened. I wasn't there, I only saw the aftermath. Because of what happened Konrad pulled strings and got him four day leave and we went to Amsterdam to try and decompress."
He looked back to Tebby.
"Martin had changed after that incident. Most of the time he was fine, but then there would come these times when he would space off, and act as if you weren't even there. Or he'd be talking to someone that wasn't there. I remember the second night we were there we got really hammered and we were laughing about something or the other, and all of a sudden he started crying, rattling off names and crying. When we reported back to base he seemed okay, but shortly after that he requested a transfer to Swick at Fort Bragg. Said he needed a change of pace. I had heard that he graduated with flying colors, and managed to get into Delta Force. I was still in the Rockpile when he graduated, but I got an email about it."
Tebby still looked shocked.
"But, when he showed up…how did you…"
"By that point I was part of the highrise sniper cadre, we were pretty isolated from the rest of the 33rd. My cadre was the only ones who knew my name, and I had insisted to them that it had to be a mistake. It couldn't have been my brother. Even when I heard word about the Gate Massacre, I still didn't believe it. Then after Lt. Gordon bought the farm during the water truck raid, in the ensuing chaos I took off my name tape and made my buddies swear to secrecy. It was my secret shame, and from that moment on I went by 'Joe'. I figured the odds of us getting out alive after the water was gone were pretty much nil anyways."
Alex hung his head.
"Then that day came, that fateful day that keeps replaying in my mind over and over again. We had received word that Walker and his team were trying to get to the Radioman in his tower, so we were on high alert. Me and my spotter had zip-lined to an adjacent highrise to do some visual recon. When I was doing a sweep of the skyline, I saw him. I could barely recognize him, he was ragged and bloodied, but I knew it was him."
He glared at Tebby.
"I had him in my sights, dead to rights. I could have pulled the trigger and ended the madness right then and there!"
He shook his head.
"But I didn't. A part of me, the part that still loved my brother, couldn't. My spotter was pissed, and told me to stay put, and he zip-lined back. All I could do was watch through my scope as that sick bastard murdered all my buddies one by one. I felt sick. So when Sgt. Crosby, as the commander of Zulu Squad and the leader of the Little Bird Squadron, requested volunteers for door gunners I took it. I thought maybe I could undo the damage. Or at least end the pain."
Alex felt his knees give out from under him, and he fell the ground weeping silent tears. He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Tebby crouching next to him.
"Kid, I'm not going to try and BS you by trying to talk the pain away. That shit is something you have to square away on your own time. But don't spend too much time dwelling on the past, or hating the dead. For what it's worth I got your back."
He stood up and grinned.
"At least I know your name now, and can introduce you to all the ladies!"
He looked over and saw the blonde knight approaching. He also noticed that as soon as she made eye contact with the sniper she blushed. He smiled to himself. Looks like Jeanne and Marlène have competition. The knight spoke.
"Colonel Konrad requests your presence in the palace; it is of an urgent nature."
Crosby had parked the wagon and supervised Lugo and Saito manhandle the strongbox off the wagon. The pinkette had finally tired of beating on him, mostly because she was getting no reaction from him, and had hopped off the wagon. Crosby had moved ahead to open the door, and suddenly realized there was someone else in the shop. He brought his weapon to bear, and the stranger made a flourishing bow.
"Ah, Sir Crosby it is good to see you again."
He lowered his weapon a fraction, and heard the sound of Lugo cocking his TAR-21.
"And you as well, Sir Percival. I am afraid the shop is closed, but if you wish I can send word to Mr. Konrad."
The Albion noble shook his head.
"That will not be necessary, it was not Mr. Konrad that I wished to see."
He looked over and saw Lugo brandishing his weapon.
"Please, Sir Crosby, I come to parley."
He set his wand and sword on the workbench.
"If that will put your mind at ease."
Crosby lowered his weapon and looked over and nodded to Lugo.
"Lugo, take the kids upstairs and be on the lookout for trouble."
"Roger that, sarge."
He turned back to Sir Percival, who was examining the anvil by the workbench.
"You know, Sir Crosby, when we met in Londinium, I knew there was more to you that met the eye, but never in my wildest dreams would I have thought you were from another world."
Crosby tried to feign ignorance.
"Really, Sir Percival, I know you don't have a very high opinion of Tristain, but to call it another world is a bit absurd."
The noble turned and chuckled. He walked over to Crosby, taking in his Zulu Squad uniform and helmet, finally fixating on his P90.
"You will forgive me for saying this, but you are most unusually dressed, for a knight. Nothing, not the clothes you wear nor the weapons you brandish seem to be anything from this world. So I ask you, why do you support the Tristain nobles? Surely you can see they are just a gaggle of corrupt idiots born into privilege while less fortunate ones slave away to support them?"
Crosby smiled.
"It's true, there are some that do an injustice to the name noble, but there are bad apples in every bunch. Surely the Reconquista's hands are not clean."
Sir Percival smiled thinly.
"Yes, it's true. Our hands aren't clean, and there are days when I even question our methods as a means to an end. But what is it like in your world? Surely there are places where the countries are not ruled by tyrants."
The Zulu Squad sergeant sat down on one of the stools and motioned the noble to do the same.
"Our world is very similar to yours in many respects, the names of the countries, and even some names within the different factions. There are good governments and bad governments in my world."
Crosby pointed to the black and white upside-down flag on his assault vest.
"That is the symbol of the country I served, and it was a success story in a government being ruled by its citizens. But it's an exception to the rule, and last I heard of it the cracks were already showing in the foundation."
He looked down.
"I've witnessed firsthand what happens when you try and unseat tyranny by force, take his power away and put it in the hands of those whom he was oppressing. It's not pretty. You end up with chaos, bloodshed, and then some power block takes advantage of the vacuum, takes control and ends up being ten times worse than the tyrant you unseated."
Crosby shook his head.
"As bad as it sounds, sometimes the status quo is the lesser of two evils."
He looked over to Sir Percival, who had a pensive look on his face.
"I will ask it, although I already know the answer, not because of that but because you are an honorable man and would give me an honest answer."
He looked directly at Crosby.
"If you had ended up on Albion instead of Tristain, if your first contact was say, me, instead of those spoiled Tristain nobles, would you have joined my cause?"
Crosby smiled.
"Honestly, I don't know. If you were as on the level then as you are now, I probably would have. Although I couldn't say for sure."
The noble seemed satisfied and stood up.
"Very well, it is a shame I could not have on my side. Your skills and your character would go far in convincing others of our cause."
He took his sword and wand and gave another bow.
"Farewell, Sir Crosby, may the next time we meet be in honorable combat on the battlefield!"
Crosby returned the bow.
"For your sake, I hope not. Farewell Sir Percival."
Without another word the noble left. Outside, Sir Percival saw his traveling companion, a woman concealed in a deep cloak, only her violet eyes visible.
"So the bodyguard will not be turned." She stated rather than asked.
Sir Percival shook his head.
"As I feared, he is an honorable man, who cannot be tempted by mere power or ambition. More's the pity."
The woman smiled, but it unsettled the noble.
"More's the pity indeed. Then we must be off, Cromwell will want to hear the bad news quickly. But first."
She nodded to a couple of thugs, one holding a large ceramic jug with a rag stuffed into the spout and the other a torch. The one set the rag on fire with the torch and the other, heaved the jug into the shop, where it burst into flames.
"What in Brimir's name are you doing, witch?" he shouted at her.
She continued to smile.
"Why, we have to send a message to Konrad not to interfere with Reconquista affairs."
"But Sir Crosby is still in there! And there are children in there as well!"
She shrugged.
"It is unfortunate that they were in there at the time. Let us hope they can escape before the flames engulf them."
Sir Percival glared at her, and quickly marched over to a tavern adjacent to the smithy shop. The tavern owner was in the process of repainting his sign on a ladder, only to have it rudely taken out from under him. He clutched to the sign for purchase, but slipped and fell into a passing manure cart, cursing the idiot who took his ladder. Sir Percival had placed the ladder under the attic window, and with a blast of his wand smashed the glass.
He turned back to catch up to Sheffield, who was seething.
"What are you doing you fool!"
He smiled lightly.
"As you said, it would have been unfortunate if they perished in the flame. I merely made sure it didn't come to that."
She stormed off in a huff.
"Cromwell will hear of this, Percival, mark my words!"
Sir Percival's smile vanished, and in its place was a frown. He looked over his shoulder and saw Sir Crosby and the other man helping the two children out of the burning house and down the ladder.
"Cromwell will hear of many things, Sheffield, of that I promise."
(AN: DUNDUNDUUUUUUNNNN! So now you know the truth about Joe the Sniper! And maybe this Sir Percival isn't as bad an egg as we thought originally. I did want to include a sympathetic character within the Reconquista to show things from their perspective. Anyways, next chapter deals with the war council. Hopefully I'll have it up by the end of the week.)
