Side Story: The Hammer and the Scalpel
1100 hours
February 10th, 2018
Herefordshire, England
Hereford Base, Operator Firing Range
The combat scenario zone was dead silent, still and not a sound could be heard. It was dark, derelict and as close to a real encounter scenario as money and effort could give it. Kade watched as Dokkaebi and Thatcher cleared room after room with professional efficiency. Their objective was to clear the sector of hostiles and disarm any enemy ordinance in the area. Kade was overseeing the drill from the bunker while two recruits manned cameras, enemy targets, etc. Charlie, their overwatch operator was there too, giving the operators a reminder as the clock ran down.
"Attention all operators, thirty seconds remaining in combat scenario" he announced, Kade observed as Dokkaebi and Thatcher stacked up on the door. Another responsibility of his new position was to check in on the progress and proficiency of all operators, so that meant having the operators go through simulated combat scenarios from time to time to observe their teamwork, synergy and overall performance. Time was racking down and Kade saw Dokkaebi flash a hand to Thatcher before typing rapidly on her military grade laptop before Kade picked up the SAS operator swear under his breath and throw in an EMP, just in time for the simulation to end. Yikes. He knew that the two had never really seen eye to eye, but this just might be the tipping point.
"-Two more seconds and we would have had eyes in the room!" he heard the microphone pick up. Charlie looked at Kade.
"Don't worry Charlie, these things have a way of working themselves out." Kade reassured. Charlie looked at the monitor again.
"You sure about that, Professor?" he said, nodding towards the screen. He could see some harsh words were exchanged between the two, Thatcher all but slamming the armory gate in Dokkaebi's face. Double yikes. It was then, no surprise to Kade, that Dokkaebi was outside the barracks, waiting for him.
"We need to talk, Kade."
"No lag! Can you believe he said that?!" she said, holding up the knife he had so kindly gifted her. Kade took the knife, inspecting it.
"Not as nice as the one he gave me. Shame." he said, making Dokkaebi snort and roll her eyes, sitting heavily in the seat across from his own.
"I just hate how he treats me! Like I'm just a tool of his to be used. It feels like no matter how well I do it's never enough for him." she ranted, letting out a long sigh afterwards. "I just don't want to have to prove myself anymore." Kade seemed to be listening intently.
"Hm. A tool you say? Lovely use of metaphor." he said, Dokkaebi groaning at his lack of support on the matter.
"Enough with your English lessons you gajjaui, I want your advice not your quips!" (translation: dummy) she said exasperatedly, Kade chuckling.
"Yes, yes I'm sorry, Grace. It's within my nature to tease everyone to some degree. Mike's treatment of you is what I would expect from a veteran operator such as he." Kade said, Dokkaebi clearly not liking his answer.
"What? Are you saying he's right to treat me like this? Like I'm some untrained, undisciplined nobody who can't find their way around a simple knife?!" she said, her voice raising as she shook the knife with emphasis. Kade held his hand up in surrender.
"Let me explain, Grace, if you would. Going along with your tool metaphor, Mike is very much a hammer. Offensive, powerful and almost universally useful. He's used to being the big dog, part of the generation where the simplest, most direct method was always the best solution. But that is no longer the case." Kade said, getting up from his chair and beginning to pace around the room. "He's a man out of time, now living in a world where the golden standard is constantly changing and morphing into a variety of forms. I think his defense against this changing world is to stick with what he knows and reject what he doesn't."
"What does that mean for me?" Dokkaebi asked, now intrigued.
"If I were to once again use the tool metaphor, I would consider you a scalpel. Precise, sharp and useful in specific situations. Your gadget may not be as widely applicable as Mike's but when it works, it works." he said. Dokkaebi seemed to like this answer a little more.
"Okay. But isn't my being unreliable in Mike's eyes the reason I'm here?" she said. Kade shook his head.
"You're not unreliable, Mike simply hasn't seen your gadget work the way it's truly meant to. There is two gaps that separate the two of you. One that is a generational gap and another that is one of trust." he explained.
"Then how do I close the gap?"
Kade shrugged, pausing his pacing.
"I can't entirely answer that question for you, Grace. My suggestion would be to sit down and talk to the man. Forage a connection, get to truly know one another. From there, you might be able to come from an understanding." Kade said, Dokkaebi made a face.
"Mike? Sit down and talk with me? I can't imagine it." she said. He chuckled,
"I didn't say you wouldn't have help, did I? I'll talk to him, push him towards the idea of opening up to you." he said, Dokkaebi scoffed.
"Opening up? Mike? Do you know him? I can almost guarantee that getting that man to open up about his feelings is about as difficult as hacking a bank's back up servers!" she said. The lack on Kade's face was mischievous. The 707th operator crossed her arms.
"You must have something in mind, then." she said, waiting for his explanation.
"I wouldn't call it a plan as much as it is a scheme. I don't typically like using my knowledge of behavioral psychology on those I consider my friends, but in times of great need I'll bend my morals just slightly." he said craftily, Dokkaebi letting a smile grace her face.
"Huh. I guess Harry did alright, picking you for this position." she said. Kade tipped an imaginary hat atop his head.
"Thank you, Ms. Nam, I aim to please. I'll be sure to keep you updated. I should ask, however, how is Billy? You two seem to have gotten friendly." he said. Dokkaebi almost grinned.
"He's good. So positive and optimistic it hurts sometimes. And that shooting ability...how'd you figure he had it?" she said. Kade shook his head,
"A story for another time, preferably one where it's late at night and we're surrounded by good company and booze. I have some things to take care of, now. Take care, Grace." he said, opening the door for her to take her leave. Dokkaebi nodded in thanks before leaving. Kade Summers had never really stopped being an enigma around Hereford Base, even after some of his secrets had leaked out. No one knew what made him tick, how exactly he was able to create all his plans and schemes and his nearly inhuman ability in the field; save for Ela and Maverick. Perhaps, with Kade taking Billy under his wing, there was a chance Dokkaebi would learn more. Her curiosity had been brimmed since the moment she'd been unable to access his personal history and official psychological report. Speaking of Billy, he was a good listener. Perhaps he'd be willing to listen to her Thatcher-related woes.
Thatcher said nothing as Kade began stacking weights on the bench press next to him. He'd needed to blow off some steam after the failed run with Dokkaebi. He'd learned from experience that sometimes you didn't need fancy gadgets and gizmos to get the job done. He just wished Dokkaebi would see it the way he saw it. Thatcher sometimes forgot how built the former professor was, his toned, corded muscles hefting each weight with relative ease. It didn't help that he almost always wore a vest and collared shirt, making only his tattooed forearms visible most of the time. Thatcher nudged an earbud out of his ear.
"Gotta trade notes with you, mate. Need to put in the extra work 'cause of agin' and all that nonsense." he said, Kade chuckled,
"Give yourself a little more credit, Mike. You're still head and shoulders above the best the world has to offer." Kade deflected, making Thatcher set down his bar and look at the other man.
"Ah come off it, now. I think we both know who would score better on a fitness performance test. Not that I'd be too far behind ya." he said with a confident smirk. Kade laid down on the bench and lifted the bar off the bench, his muscles flexing and straining against the weight as he lifted. Thatcher got up to spot the man, counting the weights as he did.
"150 kilos. Pretty good, mate."
Kade nodded, his face reddening with the effort.
"Thanks. I try. To push. Myself. Hard." Kade replied between breaths. Mike helped him ease the bar back on the rack after his first set was done. Kade got up from the bench, jumping up and down a few times and letting his muscles loosen up. "How about we go grab a drink after this?" Kade proposed as he laid back down on the bench. Thatcher looked down at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Sure. I can ask Mark-"
"-Just. The two. Of us. I should. Clarify." Kade cut him off, Thatcher's face looking only more confused.
"You askin' me on a date, mate? You and prickles break to pieces already?" the SAS operator joked, Kade let out a breath that sounded something like a laugh.
"Not quite. I'll explain. One sec." Kade said, lifting the bar another few times before getting up again. "You're one of the most well-respected members of this organization yet I hardly know anything about you. I figured we could go out to a nice bar, have some drinks, some lunch and chat a bit. What do you say?" Thatcher stroked his beard, eventually letting out a sigh.
"Why the hell not, eh? I know a good spot we can go, got themselves a smooth pale ale. Aces fish and chips too." he said.
"Wonderful. Want to spar for a round or two in the ring first, though? Haven't quite worked up my appetite." Kade proposed. Thatcher cracked his neck, then his knuckles.
"I'm always down for a scrape, mate. Let's get it."
"Well he seems alright to me, despite your misgivings' with him." Billy said. Dokkaebi narrowed her eyes. This was not what she'd invited him to the mess hall for.
"You are supposed to agree with me, Billy. That is how this exchange is supposed to work." she said. He chuckled. He was always good natured, jovial and nice to everyone. She realized then that while he was a good listener, it would be nearly impossible for him to say anything disparaging about someone else.
"Maybe I ain't the one you should be talkin' to." William said. He stabbed his fork into a string bean and took a bite, the crispness of it making a crunch as he chewed. For all the jokes the operators made about the food, it was of pristine quality; Six would have nothing less, after all. Dokkaebi let out an exaggerated sigh.
"Oh I suppose I'll keep you around, Billy. I've been thinking about it a while, didn't you say you grew up on a farm?" she said. Billy's eyes widened a little as he took another crunchy bite of a fresh string bean.
"Yes, I think I mentioned it a couple times in passing. Surprised you remembered honestly." he said. Dokkaebi snorted.
"Please, I can remember something as basic as your background, Billy." she said, clearing her throat before continuing. "Anyways, I was just thinking that it's ironic you grew up on a farm, yet you only eat vegetables." She wasn't the only one who thought it was strange. Even Echo, Mute and Frost agreed it was strange when she'd mentioned it to them. She had observed that he'd always gone to the vegan food station every time she'd gone to the mess hall with him. Billy chuckled. His demeanor towards her comment made Dokkaebi realize he was quite familiar with this particular conversation.
"You ain't alone. My family's peers in the farming world think it's even stranger but I don't mind. My sister and I are actually vegans. Ma and Pa are pretty much vegetarians, but they'll sometimes use the milk and eggs from our animals to make their own pastries and what not. Them and the rest of my siblings love sweets to much to make the full change." Dokkaebi nearly dropped her fork.
"You?!" she exclaimed. Operators and recruits alike were drawn by the noise, curious looks on their faces. Dokkaebi felt her cheeks heat up and ducked her head down. A vegetarian she could understand. But a vegan? That was the last thing she'd expected William to be. He was surprisingly built compared to the rest of the recruits; muscles that other operators had in part from eating various types of meat for vital nutrients.
"You had farm animals and didn't kill them?" Dokkaebi said, doubt evident in her voice. William shook his head.
"No. Our farm was actually a sanctuary for animals in a way. Saved 'em from the slaughterhouse or neglect. We had pigs, chickens, cows, goats, horses, cats and dogs. Had-sorry, have-just about every animal under the sun." Dokkaebi let the information settle in her mind. A measure of guilt started to creep into her thoughts as she realized she'd stereotyped him completely. His southern drawl and naïve but friendly nature had Dokkaebi thinking he was a simple farm boy with a good ear for listening. She realized now that he was much more than that.
"I...I'm sorry, Billy. I think I misjudged you. Badly." Billy looked confused at her sudden apology.
"Why? Everyone's perspective is created by all our experiences, right? I ain't gonna hold something against you that you can't control. Wouldn't be fair, ya know?" he said. He finished the last of his beans then moved onto his sweet potato, which was covered in cranberries and some sort of dark red glaze. "But, while I'm on my high horse so to speak, maybe you've done the same thing to Mike? Just some food for thought." William's words hit Dokkaebi like a gut punch from Kapkan. She stared at him with something akin to amazement.
"You're really something, Billy, you know that?" she said. William's face reddened slightly as his eyes darted to anywhere that wasn't her.
"I-uh, nah, Grace, it was nothin'. Just sayin' what comes to my mind is all." She smiled. His sheepishness was kind of cute.
"And that's why I keep you around, Billy." Her tone was affectionate paired with an appreciative smile. He briefly glanced at her, his face reddening even more. He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I-um. Well, I really don't know how to take compliments well." Dokkaebi scooped up a spoonful of yogurt and ate it. Strawberry, her favorite. A teasing smile crept across her lips.
"I know. It's cute," she said. William's face got so red she could barely see his freckles anymore. She found that teasing the new operator would provide near endless entertainment. And perhaps something further down the road, if she liked the direction they were taking.
"...holy shite your brother just sounds like my baby brother, Paulie!" Thatcher exclaimed. His voice was loud, boisterous filled with laughter. He'd been on the fence about going to the bar but found that Kade made for one hell of a drinking partner. Kade took a long drag from his glass of pale ale.
"He'd always been known as a scrapper but from that day on my tormentors never laid a hand on me again. He taught me how to take care of myself," Kade said. The two men were dressed in civilian clothes, Kade with his usual collared shirt and vest (an eye-catching shade of purple that had earned him the attention of the female bartender). Meanwhile Thatcher was in a simple cotton t-shirt and jeans, the clothing doing little to hide his massive frame. The establishment Thatcher had brought them to was called The Pot, a local yet disheveled little dive. The walls were a thick green color, reminding Kade of the slime and muck of the jungle from times long ago. The furnishings were worn but had a dull shine to them; as if there was a time the business was far more vibrant and bustling. The tables and chairs were of a durable, smooth cedar, the floor below them of a similar finish. To the back of the floor were red couches, that, while worn with age and use, still looked comfortable and pleasing to sit on. There was an old-style jukebox near the bar where Kade and Thatcher sat that was filling the atmosphere with the rhythmic but upbeat music of James Taylor.
"And that Camaro of yours, it was your brother's?" Thatcher asked. He'd remembered seeing it when they'd all gone out to The Old Black Lion but actually riding in it was a whole different experience.
"Indeed. Before he passed, Ryan told me that it would be my first car. Taught me how it worked and how to take care of it. It's the only car I've ever driven," Kade said. He did a quick nod with his head towards the smoking room, to which Thatcher obliged him. The bar was almost entirely empty save for an older man in the back nursing a dark ale with a frown that hadn't left his face since they'd walked in.
"Come back quick, you two. Your stories are the only thing passing the time." the bar tender called after them. She was in her late thirties and plain looking but her kind smile and natural charisma made her perfect for her job.
"Don't worry, love, won't be long," Thatcher said.
"Just going for a cigarette, my dear Diane! I'll tell you about little Robbie's bottle rocket incident when we return," Kade said as he put a cigarette between his lips. The smoke room looked closer to a mudroom, the floorboards dirty with grime and lacking the shine of the ones in the main floor. There also wasn't much in the way of furniture, save for a few sets of tables with chairs; ash trays in the middle of each. Kade fiddled with his vest pocket until he produced a lighter. The flame's glow was dull in Kade's stormy eyes as he stared into Thatcher's. Kade found that at some points, silence was better than conversation. Kade offered the English man a cigarette but he shook his head, seemingly content with his Old Speckled Hen ale. Kade got through half of his cigarette before Thatcher broke the silence.
"How do ya do it, mate?" Kade let the smoke out in a cloud away from Thatcher.
"As much as I love solving riddles, I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific." Thatcher chuckled.
"Right. What I mean to say is, how do you get everyone to instantly like you? Like Diane in there is smitten with ye and how long have we been here? An hour? Maybe two? You're like a bloody social chameleon." Kade leaned back in his chair, letting his cigarette hang from his lips like a lazy trapeze artist.
"I suppose there are times when I use my knowledge of the mind to worm my way into one's good graces, but, I'll be honest Mike, most of the time that isn't even necessary," Kade said, pausing to let the smoke escape his lungs. "Most of the time, being kind, confident and keeping your thoughts and body language open is often what'll do the trick." It was Thatcher's turn to sit back in his chair and consider Kade's words.
"Huh. Guess I never thought of it that way," he said, suddenly showing his teeth. "Little hypocritical though, in'it? Ye did punch Jordan right in the face the first couple days." Kade shrugged.
"Fair enough. However, most people don't know my background, making it much easy to follow those principles." he conceded. Just as Thatcher was about to reply they could hear raised voices and the sounds of a commotion coming from the main floor. Kade snubbed his cigarette. "Seems we've some troublemakers. Why don't we tend to them?" he said. His tone was cheery but Thatcher could see his eyes harden.
"Yeah. Let's give 'em a warm welcome." When the two operators arrived back onto the main floor, a group of rough looking individuals had the bar surrounded, their ring-leader gripping Diane's forearm with barely concealed hostility.
"-I told you I never wanted to see you again, George! Get out of here before I call the police!" she cried. George's face twisted in anger and he gripped her harder, making the poor woman cry out in pain. Thatcher took a step forward.
"I would unhand her, if I were you." Kade said from behind him, his tone pleasant with a slight edge to it. George's posse took a menacing step towards Thatcher but both operators kept their cool. George looked at them with about as much disdain as he would a bug under his shoe. He had a handsome face, but taking one look at him Kade knew there was a monster lurking underneath.
"Oh yeah? I ain't scared of you old codgers." George said, venom dripping off his every word.
"Clearly not. How could you be, surrounded by your friends as you harass a defenseless woman," Kade said, the taunt making something of a snarl come out of George's mouth.
"Fuckin' beat these pricks bloody," George growled, his four buddies walking towards the two operators with their fist raised. Thatcher wasted no time in seizing the closest one by the shirt collar and smashing his skull against the thug's. The man's body was instantly limp and Thatcher threw him aside like a child would a toy. Before they could retaliate Kade darted in front of him, sending another to the ground clutching his throat and wheezing. Kade had crushed his windpipe with a pair of brass knuckles. The other two hesitated at this point and it was the only opening Thatcher needed. With a roar he charged forward, one heavy swing sending one of the goons flying over the nearest table. The last one tackled Thatcher around the waist and kept running forward until the big man hit the wall. Thatcher brought both his fist down on the attacker's back. He fell to his knees. Thatcher pushed him off and brought a knee to his face, knocking the man out cold. George grabbed the nearest bottle, broke it on the bar counter and held it to Diane's neck.
"Come near me and she's dead!" he yelped, fear evident in his tenor. Kade pulled out his service pistol.
"Believe me when I say I can drop you before that bottle even punctures her skin. Drop it," Kade said, his eyes lighting up like stormy grey thunderclouds; he wasn't playing games.
"I'd do what he says, mate. Seen him on the range. Ain't often he misses," Thatcher said, rolling his shoulder and looking relatively unconcerned about the whole situation.
"B-but you'll kill me," George almost whimpered, his hand holding the bottle beginning to shake.
"Not if you put down the bottle. Take your friends and leave. If you ever step foot in this establishment again, we will hunt you down and kill you. Understood?" Kade said, his voice laced with threat. George dropped the bottle, helping his friends to their feet in a hurried and anxious manner before the injured troop stumbled out of the bar. Kade glanced behind them at the old man, who hadn't moved an inch. There was no change apparent from him at all except that his scowl had grown even deeper. Diane blew a stray strand of hair out of her face.
"Fuckin' arsehole he is. Thanks for helping me out with that bit of mess, loves. Free drinks for life for the two of you," Diane said, flashing an appreciative grin. Kade smiled back.
"I would normally refuse your very generous offer, I believe my friend Mike here would have my head if I said no. Thank you, Diane." Thatcher belted out a laugh.
"Bloody right. While I'd bury shite-stains like that for free, your Old Speckled is just too good to let the offer pass," Thatcher said, his teeth flashing for a good-natured grin. Thatcher looked down at Kade. 'One more round, mate?" Kade shrugged.
"Why the hell not?"
It was nearly an hour later that they finally decided to leave The Pot. Kade had only a couple of rounds so he'd still be able to drive them back. He had an old Kings of Leon CD playing in the background while the rain tapped on the window, the wipers lazily wiping the watery mess away just before it overwhelmed the glass.
"Dreary day, perfect for a drink," Thatcher said, contentment evident on his features. Kade glanced at him, his lips upturned slightly.
"Interesting. You're saying that almost as if it was your idea," the former professor said, making Thatcher let out a chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah. You academic types always hoggin' for ye name in something." This made Kade roll his eyes.
"Oh please. I'm not so crass as to wish my name on all things; that territory is for arrogant bastards and phonies."
"Haha, seems I ruffled a few feathers on ye Doctor Summers. I know you ain't that type of guy." They let the silence sit and the guitars from Kings of Leon croon and moan as the rain continued to tap on the glass.
"You know something, Mike? You should do what we did today. With Grace." It was Thatcher's turn to roll his eyes.
"Bloody hell. You think she'd want to go out for drinks in some skeezy little dive bar? Get in a scrap and laugh it off with another round? Don't make me laugh, mate," he said with something that sounded like disdain.
"Perhaps not. That's something that you and I would do; that I'm happy to do with you. I greatly enjoyed our time together today. What I'm trying to say is she might broaden your horizons. Make you realize that maybe there are other ways to have fun," Kade said, taking Thatcher's silence as an indication he could continue. "Look, this goes higher than just making sure the team synergy isn't off kilter, okay? If you and Grace keep going at the rate your going, it will reach Six. And she doesn't tolerate this shit, alright? Her whole mission is showing the world; mostly the UN, that military specialist from all corners of the world can come together, get along and get the job done. If your little spat with Grace reaches her, she's the kind of person that's going to make you two sit in a tiny room until you're forced to like each other. I'm trying to step in before that happens, for the benefit of you both," Kade finished, letting the quiet encompass them once again. An entire song played before Thatcher finally let out a sigh.
"Fuck it. Fine. You're right, I suppose. I should at least meet the lass halfway, eh?" Thatcher said. Kade smiled. Sometimes all it took was a little push.
1200 Hours
February 11th, 2018
Herefordshire, England
Hereford Base, Operator Firing Range
The combat scenario zone was silent once again, but Kade, standing up in the operations booth, was much more optimistic about today's run. Both Thatcher and Dokkaebi had seemed much less sour about the aspect of working together than where they had left things off, which made Kade think his intervention had come at the perfect time. Kade watched on the cams as the two capable operators swept room after room, taking out targets and securing "friendlies" with an efficiency that indicated some sort of an unspoken agreement. They once again stacked up on the door that led to their V.I.P target; the obstacle that had divided them on their previous attempt. Thatcher nodded at Dokkaebi. Her fingers flew over the screen and within seconds buzzing could be heard coming from the room. Thatcher threw an EMP grenade through the door, the blast darkening the room. The two then stepped in, dispatching the targets in the darkness by the light of their phones. Kade made a sound of approval. A smooth strategy. Nice. The announcement system blared; the telltale noise of success. Charlie leaned forward towards the microphone:
"Congratulations, operators. The simulation was a success. Rack up so the next group can move through." Kade smiled at Charlie. The former professor wasn't sure if Charlie knew just how important he was to the successful operation of Rainbow base.
Thatcher and Dokkaebi were silent as they racked their weapons and ammunition in the armory. Other than the barely audible click of bullets exiting magazines and the metallic zing of the slide being pulled to clear the chamber of chambered bullets, they didn't even look at each other.
"That was a good strategy. Wouldn't have thought of it. Glad ye shared it," Thatcher said, a reluctant tone in his voice. Dokkaebi's hand froze, just about to push the slide back and lock the chamber.
"Mike, am I hearing things or are you actually complimenting me on an approach to tactics?" she said, mock shock in the tone of her voice. Thatcher grunted and muttered something unintelligible.
"Yes, I did. I know you ain't deaf, lass. Quit being smart and just accept the compliment." Dokkaebi laughed.
"You're right. I'm sorry, Mikey, really. I thank you for the compliment, I do appreciate it when my talents are acknowledged by my peers." Thatcher raised an eyebrow at her.
"Mikey?" Dokkaebi cocked her head sideways.
"Don't like it? Seeing as we're actually getting along, I thought giving you a little nickname might bridge the gap. If you don't like it I won't use it, though," she said, looking a little crestfallen at the aspect of not using it. Thatcher cleared his throat.
"Works fine with me, Grace. Just haven't been called it since I was in primary school," he said, his clear inability to interact smoothly with those of a younger generation making it hard for Dokkaebi not to laugh.
"Huh. Maybe you can tell me why over a cup of tea. Earl grey after a simulation is the best." she said, Thatcher's head swinging to her, his mouth slightly agape.
"Did I say something?" the 707 operator asked, confused by his sudden surprise.
"I bloody love earl grey. You like it too?" Dokkaebi smiled. Perhaps getting along with this old man would be a little easier than she thought.
