"Goddamnit!"
Emeline Shaw was pissed. Standing in front of her were some of her closest lieutenants. For days, they had been receiving reports that someone was taking out he patrols. Now, it had changed.
"Ma'am?" One of her lieutenants spoke up.
"What!"
"The men ma'am, they're afraid to leave the island. There have even been reports of some desertion."
Just before she was about to respond, a knock came from her office door. "Come in." Walking in was her head of security, The Basilisk. "Ma'am. We've got some photos from the most recent attack." He put a series of photos on her desk. Picking up the soft-textured photos, she analyzed them.
"Ma'am, whoever is doing this knows what they're doing. Never the same place twice, covers their tracks, and actually knows survival."
"Does this have anything to do with that pesky division team that just took our bunker."
"We don't think so ma'am. That team is supposed to be the division's strike team, and we have access to their comms. Whoever is doing this, they're not getting anything from the division."
"Every outcast had reported that Emeline Shaw has an escape route, unfortunately, they all say something different."
"Understood."
The one thing that the division could count on was the arrogance of the outcasts. They were little more than bullies. No tactical training, no freedom to think on the battlefield. Manny was well aware that the outcasts were listening in on Alpha Tango's comms. He allowed them to. It made them think that they were getting something. All it did was mislead them as he sent dozens of reports and orders to Stryker through their secured comms.
"I've been a bit busy, how's the team doing?"
"They just cleared the bunker. Their next orders are to take the Kennedy Center. I'm telling them after they've had their lunch."
"Be advised, from the intel I've gathered, Shaw's right-hand man and primary propagandist is headquartered there. The guy's basically a modern Joseph Goebbels."
"10-4, I'll relay the intel. And one more thing, I know you want to, but you are not taking part in the assault on the island."
There was silence for a moment over the radio and Manny thought that she might have just disconnected the comms.
"No."
"Listen, Sarah, I can't allow…"
"Manny, I'm done after this. When we open up the island for assault, I'm doing it too. I have too many cards in this game to watch someone else get Shaw. She's mine."
"We'll talk about this later."
With that, he disconnected the transmission.
"Sir, Brenner's reporting that the team leader of the division strike team is no longer with the team. He suspects that she may be responsible for the acts of terror against those infected crazies. Serves them right if you ask me sir."
"I wasn't. That'll be all, dismissed."
The soldier gave a respectful nod and left. Opening the drawer to his right, he picked up a SAT phone and dialed a number. He let it ring as he waited for it to be picked up.
"This is Wyvern, go ahead."
"Be advised, the division team we're tracking has only told me more about their skill. When we finally go in, don't let your pride get to your head, they are not to be trifled with."
"Sir." She responded before hanging up. The man signed; the woman, while effective, was often a loose cannon, he had placed a lot of trust in her making her the leader of the forces in Washington.
He was not gonna shed a tear if she failed.
Hemorrhage was pissed. The position of team leader was unceremoniously dumped on him. Further, Manny was still refusing any access to Stryker. He would bring up the issue with his team in the mess hall. He found them as he walked in.
"Hey boss, they got some chicken pot pie for lunch today." Thunderclap reported.
"Good, I love that shit."
Knowing that all parts of the White House were monitored, he quickly slid a piece a paper across the table under a napkin that he feigned-giving to Raptor. She picked it up the napkin, not realizing that she was given a message. As she went to wipe the corner of her mouth, she felt the differing textures and looked down, realizing there was a piece of paper. Opening it up, its message was short and to the point.
Tonight. 2200. Firing range.
She looked up at Hemorrhage; all he did was give a slight head nod before going back to his pot pie.
Putting her right down to her side, under the table, she tapped on Thunderclap's left leg. Looking up, he quickly noticed the piece of paper by his leg, taking it, he read it and nodded to himself.
To save power, the mess hall, recreational hall, and other non-essential parts of the White House were often lit by candles and fireplaces. When they finished the meal, Thunderclap balled up the note and tossed it into the fireplace inconspicuously.
Hemorrhage was walking to the west wing, preparing for another lesson for the militia when he heard his name called out. Turning around, his eyes fell on none other than Manny Ortega.
"Grant. We've received intel from one of our scouts that Emeline Shaw's right-hand man is headquartered at the Kennedy Center. You're to leave at 0200 tomorrow to take down the center, understood."
"Yes sir."
Manny nodded and turned to leave when Grant spoke up again.
"Mind telling me where you're getting all this information?"
"What was that agent?" Manny asked in an accusatory tone.
"I asked; where are you getting this information. All this intel can't just come from someone scouting out a building. So what the hell are you getting this from.?"
"I'm gonna pretend that I didn't hear you just try to chew me out. Take care where you poke around. You know what they say, 'Curiosity killed the cat.'"
Hemorrhage chuckled a bit. "You know, people always say that, but they never tell you the whole quote." Stepping toward Manny, he was nearly an inch from his face. "'But satisfaction brought it back.' I'll be seeing you sir." Hemorrhage saluted and continued down the hall.
"Big Penn to Reaper. Be advised that Alpha Tango Two has become suspicious. I believe that he may discover soon."
"Understood. We can only do, what we can do."
Manny terminated the connection. Sarah hoped they would find out what she was doing, if only that way she could finally rejoin them.
"Fuck you, Bitch!"
Stryker sighed; it was time to get back to work. Picking up a hatchet she approached another outcast that was strapped to a chair.
