Jacinto Military Base of Operations
10 Years After E-Day
I must admit I'm surprised that you'd tolerate experimentation on human beings, Adam. You gave us hell about neutralizing UIR weapons scientists because they were civilians. It's much easier for me. I have no moral line except ensuring the survival of the maximum number of COG citizens by any means necessary.
COG Intelligence agent Louise Settile in conversation with Adam Fenix
Prescott sat on the other side of the desk, fingers steepled into a pyramid in front of his lips. His brow was creased into the beginning of a frown. He hadn't said a word during Kim's entire debrief, while Kim floundered to explain how everything had gone so terribly wrong. How they had lost two soldiers, how this girl had managed to sneak aboard a classified mission, how the Locust had managed to follow them to the research base. Kim had expected interruptions – questions, exclamations, an interrogation – but Prescott had only sat, silent. Hoffman knew better than to blame his men when things went wrong. Shit happened in the field, and the only one he held responsible was himself. Prescott wasn't a soldier, however. And it was in a politician's nature to find somewhere else to lay blame.
"And where is this girl now?" he finally asked, once Kim had finished his assessment.
"She's outside your office, sir. I thought you would want to speak to her."
Prescott simply nodded once, motioning for Kim to show her in. Kim stifled a sigh as he snapped off a salute and turned to the door. He was quietly relieved that Prescott didn't seem to blame him for this disaster. But he also knew that somehow all of this blame would land at the feet of this young girl. She had screwed up, sure. But she had also paid dearly for it. Kim hoped Prescott wouldn't be too harsh on her as he held the door open and watched her walk inside.
Kim shut the door behind Bri as he left her alone with the Chairman. A proper Gear would snap off a salute, stand at attention, or greet him with a stern 'sir'. The girl simply stared at the threadbare carpet with tear-stained eyes. She didn't seem like she knew – or cared – where she was. The expression on her face was desolate. Her shoulders slumped at an alarming angle, and her hands sat limply by her side. She didn't fidget nervously, didn't even look at him. In fact, he wasn't even sure she heard him when he said: "So you must be Bri."
Prescott waited a beat for a response, but none came. He cleared his throat and straightened his spine. "Young lady, I don't think I need to explain how serious this situation is. In fact, I could have you charged with treason for your actions – actions that resulted in the deaths of two fine soldiers. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Prescott's tone was cold enough to freeze steel, but the girl didn't even flinch. She didn't defend herself. It was almost like she didn't even hear him. Prescott sighed, wondering what he was to do with her.
"What's a maelstrom generator?" she asked, very quietly.
"I'm sorry?"
"The maelstrom generator," she repeated in a voice that was scarcely audible. "What is it for?"
Prescott's voice went ice cold. "I don't believe that is any of your business."
"Ace died for that weapon. I want to know why." She finally met his eye with a glare. Although her eyes were wet, they burned with a deep intensity. "What is it for? Will it kill grubs?"
"I won-"
"What is it for?!" she lunged at him from the other side of his desk, and he flinched backwards in his chair. "Why did you send him there?! Why did he die for you? Why, why, why?!" Her voice rose and gained strength and finished in a shrill screech. She swept her arm across the surface of his desk, knocking the papers, pens, and coffee mugs to the floor.
Captain Dury opened the door, one hand already on his sidearm. Prescott held a hand out without taking his eyes off of Bri. He waited until the door shut again. "I can assure you Corporal Martinez did not die in vain. The information recovered will save lives."
Bri's breaths came in ragged gasps. She appeared mollified for a moment. She stood, shoulders heaving, the detritus of his desk underneath her boots.
Prescott considered her. She wasn't a Gear, so he couldn't impose the usual sanctions of a soldier against her – pay cuts, downgrade in rank, court martial. She hadn't even sworn the oath of citizenship that all civilians did upon their sixteenth birthday. Kim and Carmine – they were both bound to secrecy by virtue of their positions. But she was a loose thread with no discernable loyalties. Well, perhaps with one known loyalty – she was evidently very loyal to a man the COG had left for dead.
And she knew about the generator. Not much, no, not enough to be truly dangerous, but enough to be problematic.
He could conscript her, of course. But her allegiance had already been severely damaged by these events. And as a Gear her loyalty would lay with Hoffman, not necessarily with him. They were still under martial law; he had the right to execute her, if he wished. He could gather a kill squad. That would certainly solve his problem, but it would garner attention. He would come across as callous and unfeeling once word got out. Plus, it would be a shame to murder the poor girl for stumbling into something she couldn't begin to understand.
That really only left him with one option. He turned to the filing cabinet behind him and reached for a seldomly used file. He plucked a pre-filled form and laid it on his desk that was now so helpfully cleared off. Picking a pen up off of the floor, he began to fill out the form. "Briana Martinez, correct?" he verified before filling in the name. Bri scarcely nodded, wondering what exactly he was up to.
"In response to your actions, I don't believe I have any other recourse than to sentence you to involuntary service at Jiliane Birthing Creche. You-"
"A farm?!" she gasped. "You're sending me to a farm?!"
Prescott mentally flinched, although he remained cool and collected on the outside. "It is regrettable; however, I cannot ignore the severity of your crimes."
"What crimes?" There was shock in her voice, and pain, but also betrayal. She'd never imagined that her beloved COG would do this to her – sentence her to something so dastardly, so inhuman. Not even in her worst nightmares had she seen this happening to her.
Prescott listed off some trumped-up charges, enough to justify his actions to anyone who would bother asking later. "Trespassing upon a government installation, obstruction of military duties, insurrection…" he motioned at the floor, "…Littering."
He signed the bottom of the form, then flipped the page and signed again. "There," he turned the pages around to face her, and she read the words 'Birthing Order' on the top of the page. "If you would sign here-"
"No," she breathed, taking a step backwards. Her expression began to take on the desperation of a trapped animal, a fox that would gnaw off her own leg to escape. "No, you can't do this!"
"Oh, I assure you I can. Did you really think there would be no consequences to your actions?"
She hadn't. Ace had always protected her from any true penalties. But he wasn't here anymore. "Then draft me as a Gear. Send me on a suicide run – I don't care. Please, anything but this!"
Prescott considered. No, she wouldn't let things go. She'd ask questions, want to know exactly what had happened with the plans for the Generator. And she would be respected as a Gear. She would be able to gather support from other soldiers. No, better to nip this in the bud now, and cast her off where no one would hear from her again. And, even if they did, who would place stock in the word of a birthing sow?
Prescott did a long, slow, exaggerated shake of his head. "I'm sorry," he said with his best feigned sorrow. "But you've left me with no choice. Now you can either 'come quietly', as they say, or I can get Captain Dury to escort you. Dury?" he called, and the door to his office opened once more.
Bri glanced between them both, backing up into the bookshelf against the wall. "No," she said again, but she wasn't arguing with them, simply denying that they could be this heartless. Her heart thrummed like a hummingbird in her chest. Her hands brushed against a bronze bust of the former Chairman, and she gripped it instinctively.
Dury could see her hands. "Come on, none of that," he chastised her like a disobedient child. "Don't make this worse."
She looked at the door. The bust had a significant heft to it as she plucked it off the shelf. She could hit Dury with the statue, make a break for it, and run for the doors. Could she hit him hard enough to keep him from following her? If he called out, would other Gears stop her? She had an entire base to run through…she couldn't fight them all…
She glanced back at Prescott. Cold sweat on her palms slid against the metal. She could hit him with the bust. Maybe hit him hard enough it would be lethal. Assassination – that would be worth a firing squad, right? They wouldn't send her to a farm for that.
She snatched the bust and heaved it in Prescott's direction with all of her strength. She saw his eyes widen as it sailed past his head – smashing the window directly behind him. In the next breath she was leaping towards the broken window, using his desk as a springboard to make the leap. She almost didn't make it – there were still shards of glass in the frame, and she felt them catch and tear her skin as she sailed through.
Prescott's office was on the second floor. She tried to roll as she landed, but her shoulder struck the ground first with a sickening crack! A strangled scream escaped her throat as pain exploded down her left side. When she sat up, her heartbeat was in the wrong place – it was tucked up under her left shoulder, above her collarbone. Every rush of blood sent sparks of agony into her chest and down her arm.
She wanted to lay there and cry, but as she looked up, she saw that Dury was leaning out of the window. He had one finger pressed to his earpiece. The sounds of breaking glass and her screams had attracted attention. Gears were looking her way; in a few seconds they'd be around her and escape would be that much harder. She forced herself to her feet, forced herself to start running. She cradled her left arm in her right and tried in vain to keep it from bouncing around. Her shoulder felt like tongues of flames were licking her bones.
The Gears at the checkpoint were supposed to stop people heading into the base, not out. She sprinted through the gates, turning right and headed into the night. In mere moments there would be gears looking for her – she had to get out of the city, put as much distance between her and Prescott's birthing order as possible. If they caught her…no. She'd fight. She'd make them kill her before she'd go to that place.
For the second time in her life, she was alone in the city. Homeless, friendless, and on the run. The only chance she had was to get outside the wire.
She had to become Stranded.
I stood with my fist poised midair, waiting for any acknowledgment from the other side of the door. After a moment, Hoffman's gruff voice bade me to enter.
Prescott had chosen an office in an old lookout tower. It sat high up in Vectus base, overlooking everything from the port to the village, with an obscene number of stairs to climb. Hoffman, on the other hand, had chosen a small room centered between the barracks and control. And it was on the first floor. That was one of only a hundred reasons why I decided to approach Hoffman rather than the Chairman.
"At ease," he greeted me from behind his desk, and I dropped my salute. "What do you need, private?"
"Sir," I said, layering my hands behind my back. "I need to speak with you regarding Ace Martinez."
Hoffman blew out a sigh and tossed his pen into a chipped coffee mug. It rattled when it collided with the others he had stored there. "Figured you'd show up here eventually. What's the problem?"
"Sir, Prescott has Ace confined to base."
"Prescott has a lot of people confined to a lot of places. Dangerous folks around."
"Ace isn't dangerous," I stressed. "He's a veteran Gear. He should be entitled to the same freedom and privileges any soldier is granted."
"He's been AWOL for over five years."
"Because the COG left him for dead!"
The wheels squeaked under Hoffman's chair as he leaned backward. He considered me for a long moment with a furrowed brow. I bit back the urge to pile on more facts for Ace's defense. I was learning that sometimes less was more, especially when dealing with command.
"Fine," Hoffman finally barked out. "But he's your puppy. You brought him home. He shits on the rug – you're the one who's going to clean it up. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell him to take the oath, then go see the quartermaster. He can't swing full kit, not with one arm gone, but we'll find him a job. Plenty of work to go around."
"Will do," I tried to fight a smile, and failed. "Thank you, sir."
"Dismissed. And don't come asking me any more favors."
The mid-morning traffic of soldiers crowded the narrow streets of the naval base. Many of them – like myself – were wearing full plate, which made passing by each other a bit tricky in the narrower alleyways. Sam followed at my heels, ears pricked and tail held upright but relaxed.
I tried to walk confidently, but I felt like an imposter. The plate armor I wore didn't settle comfortably on my shoulders. The boots on my feet technically were my size, but they were so heavy and bulky that I felt like a kid playing dress up in their parents' clothes. When I was with Delta these phony feelings tended to fade, but when I was alone the sunlight felt like a spotlight on my back.
I had already checked the barracks and the chow hall, but I couldn't find Ace anywhere. He wasn't wearing a comm, either, so I couldn't simply radio him. I was scheduled for patrol with Marcus at noon. I wanted to speak with Ace before then. Maybe he could take the oath while I was at work, and then tonight I could show him around the island. But the sun was already high in the cloudless sky, and Marcus would be pissed if I was late.
I decided to cut through the motor pull; I wanted a break from the hot sun, and it was the quickest way to where I was meeting up with Marcus. The garage was mostly empty. A few engineers were tucked under the hoods of various vehicles. I resisted the urge to look for Baird; he had been sequestered away on board the Gorasnayan imulsion platform with a sack of tools and an endless list of things to repair. It had only been a day since he had left, but I still found myself missing his sarcastic barbs and comments.
Or maybe it was simply the man himself that I missed.
I let myself wonder briefly about what he was doing. Probably pissing off a bunch of Gorasnayans with his smart-ass mouth, if I had to guess.
I headed for the small office on the other side of the garage; it had an eastern exit that would spit me out on the street close to where Marcus was waiting. The office door was closed, but swung open easily when I pulled the handle.
I stopped dead in my tracks. Ace was sitting at the lone desk in the room. His eyes grew wide with shock when I opened the door. In his one hand was the mic of the old HAM radio Baird had been putting back together. "…Confirmed. FTC units stand ready to rendezvous following completion of mission Reckoning-"
Ace dropped the mic he was holding and frantically hit the power button. The radio fell silent. He turned to me and gave me a forced smile. "There you are!" he said in a strained voice. "Where you been?"
My lungs felt like they had been filled with ice water. I couldn't catch my breath as the chill swept over me. I stared at Ace, watched the guilt spread over his face. Sam gave a low, menacing growl deep in her throat.
"Who are you talking to?" I asked in a small voice.
Ace heaved himself to his feet, and pushed past me in the doorway. I watched him sweep the garage for anyone within earshot, then he pulled the door shut tightly behind us. It didn't have a lock, which was why I had been able to open it so easily. "Okay," he said. "I know this looks bad, but it's not what you think."
It looks like you hijacked COG resources, and are using them to communicate with enemy forces. I didn't say that out loud; I simply continued to stare at Ace, silently begging him for an explanation.
Ace sighed, and leaned against the desk in a pose that was just a bit too tight to be relaxed. "Okay, yeah. I was talking to the Free Trade Commission."
"Jacques group?" I clarified with a swallow. "The pirates?"
"They're not pirates," he insisted. "Well…at least not bad ones. They're who took me in after the COG abandoned me."
After I abandoned you, you mean, I mentally filled in.
"I was letting them know that I'm okay – that I'm still alive." He gave me a nudge. "I don't like people thinking I'm dead. Call it a pet peeve."
The icy grip around my heart started to relax. But I still couldn't shake the knot in my stomach. "What's mission Reckoning?"
"Massy's Reckoning," he clarified. "We've been working on dismantling Massy's gang for the past few months. Getting rid of him marks the mission's success. And good riddance." His face darkened: "You're worried about Stranded? He's the kind of raping, killing, thieving piece of shit you should worry about. Not the FTC."
I nodded. I was starting to sound like Mataki – suspicious of anyone who didn't fly the COG colors. I should have known better than to suspect Ace of anything untoward. I felt a little silly as I gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I spend too much time with paranoid people."
"A little paranoia is healthy in today's day and age," he said as he hopped up onto the desk. "So, what have you been up to? Feel like I never see you."
The reason why I had been looking for Ace came flooding back, and I brightened. "I spoke to Hoffman this morning. He'll lift your restriction to base! All you have to do is talk to the quartermaster, and take the Gear's oath!"
Ace scoffed once, and a shadow crossed over his face. "That's not going to happen," he said darkly.
My forehead creased in confusion. "Because you're missing an arm? Hoffman said that didn't matter – there's plenty of non-combat roles you can fill."
"No, not because of my arm," he practically spat the words. The room filled once again with an uncomfortable tension. "Because I already swore to lay down my life once for the fucking COG! I fucking did that already!" His nostrils flared in aggravation, and he stabbed his finger into his chest. "And what was the thanks I got? They fucking left me for dead on a god-damn beach. And the second I get back; Prescott shows up to threaten me about keeping my mouth shut about Romgar. I don't owe the COG a fucking thing. Not my loyalty, my time, or some fucking oath."
Ace's heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. His anger was shocking. Ace – my Ace, from before Romgar – didn't sound like this. He didn't curse in front of me, but he especially didn't speak about the COG like this. Ace was the one that had taught me how to be loyal to something larger than myself. I understood where his anger was coming from, but he wasn't the only one to be abandoned by the Coalition; I had been slapped with a birthing order and thrown away as well. But while I had leapt at the chance to regain my spot in the COG, Ace was turning his nose up at it.
I fiddled with a buckle on my armor while not quite meeting his eye. "Well…" I said in a small, quiet voice. "Maybe you can just take the civilian oath. You don't have to be a Gear."
"You're not hearing me." I could hear the effort in his voice to get his anger back under control. "I'm not going to stand there and say those words and not mean them. And I won't pledge my allegiance to the COG. I just…" his voice faltered. "I…can't."
"Okay." I nodded, deciding to let the matter drop. "I'll figure out some other way to get your base restriction lifted. No oath."
He swung his foot out and nudged my knee in silent thanks. "What are you doing today?" he asked in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "I hope you didn't put all those plates on for my benefit."
"I'm on patrol today. I should probably get going, actually…"
"Patrol?" Ace's brow furrowed with concern. "Where are you going to be? Who do they have you with?"
I shrugged. "With Marcus. And I think we're patrolling the northern end? Not sure."
"You going to be on the roads at all?"
"No – foot patrol. Why?"
He shook his head. "No reason. I'm just worried about you. You've come a long way from that gangly little kid you used to be."
I puffed up under his praise. "I owe a lot of that to you. The things you taught me kept me alive. It made me a survivor."
Instead of smiling, a dark look crossed over Ace's face. "I was trying to let you be a kid, before they turned you into a weapon."
The dark tone in his voice concerned me. "That's…not what the COG does. That's just how the world works nowadays." I didn't want to get back onto this topic, but Ace refused to drop it.
Ace's face was a storm cloud. "You have no idea what the COG has done," he spat at me.
Before he could explain what he meant by that, the door behind us swung open once again. Marcus stood in the doorway like an armored tank. His eyes went from me, to Ace, to the clock on the wall. "You're late," he grumbled, nodding at the clock that flashed '12:18'.
Damn it. I really hadn't wanted to get off on the wrong foot with Marcus. "Sorry. We got to talking." I motioned to Ace. "Marcus, this is Ace. Ace, this is who saved your life. He did CPR on board the Marlin after I pulled you out of the drink."
Ace rubbed his chest like it was still sore. "Well, thanks. But you didn't have to push that hard!"
Marcus grunted once in acknowledgement, but the look on his face could have been carved from stone for all the warmth it held. Ace kept up his friendly façade for a second more. The smile slipped from his face into a mirror of Marcus' expression. He slowly slid off of the desk and got to his feet. The two men stared at each other in cool dislike.
"We need to go," Marcus spoke and broke the silence. "We're already late."
"Keep her safe," Ace said, nodding to me.
"I keep myself safe, thank you very much," I snapped at Ace as I followed Marcus out of the office. He headed toward the large, open garage door and into the hot sun. He was silent as Sam and I fell in step beside him.
I thought about asking Marcus what he thought of Ace, but something held me back. I wondered whether Ace's ambivalence to Marcus was simply his reaction to the 'Marcus Fenix' – the Embry Star recipient, and the disgraced soldier who cost us Ephyra. I'd seen civilians react poorly to him as well. But as we walked, I realized Ace didn't know about Marcus' checkered past. He had 'died' a few months before the fall of Ephyra. Gossip could spread far and fast, but not across oceans. Not anymore, at least.
The narrow streets of the base were still just as jam-packed as before, but Marcus parted the crowd like a split in a stream. "Damn, I wish I was as big as you," I muttered as we walked.
He made a discontented noise in the back of his throat. "Just makes you a target," he said in a monotone voice. "Every enemy on the battlefield uses you to get their range in."
Marcus led me outside the gates of the base and turned left. We walked along the outside of Vectes base, on the opposite side of the port. Along the walls a new tent city had popped up overnight, complete with a fence made of razor wire and chain link. I could see little scraps of fabric bearing the Gorasnayan sigil fluttering in the wind. They hadn't asked the COG for help with building their new home, and none had been offered. "Are we patrolling 'Little Gorasnaya'?" I asked Marcus as we strode past.
He made a negative grunt. "They've set up their own patrols," he answered, ignoring my comment.
I snorted. "I'll bet Prescott loves that. Aren't we all supposed to be one big, happy family now? Are we going to start adding a token indie to every squad?"
Finally, Marcus rolled those mad-dog eyes down to look at me. "You're awfully testy today," he noted. "Did you spend time in an indie forced-labor camp or something?"
I waited until we were past the front gate guards to answer. "Maybe I just don't like it when people get strung up like piñatas." The mental image of the rotting skull flashed through my mind, and I shivered unconsciously. Marcus didn't answer.
Marcus and I lapsed back into silence as we skirted around the ramshackle town. On the other side of the gate, I could hear the normal sounds of a village – the crackle of campfires, mothers calling to their children, the crash of hammers as lodging was being built. It all sounded painfully familiar. Except every person on the other side of the fence was speaking an oddly melodic language that was indecipherable. "You fought the UIR," I pointed out. "You're okay with our new neighbors?"
"They're not grubs," was Marcus' short response.
We walked in silence for the better part of an hour as we walked the perimeter of the indie camp. I could see men in Gorasnayan military uniforms standing guard at every break in the fence. They eyed us with suspicion as we walked past. One man saw Sam walking by my side, and he made kissy noises at her, and held out his hand to offer pats. I considered walking past, but I slowed. "Okay," I told Sam, giving her a release command. She left my side and sniffed the man's hand curiously before letting him scratch behind her ears.
"Pretty dog," the man said in rough Tyran.
"Thanks. C'mon, Sam."
When we finished our patrol of the base, Marcus hooked south and headed towards the port. Walking downhill was more comfortable. I was starting to bake under my plates. I turned to Marcus for a distraction. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
"Oh. Can I ask another?"
"You just-" he sighed. "Sure."
I pursed my lips for a moment, trying to think of the most delicate way to ask what I wanted to know. I had several more hours of patrol with Marcus, and I didn't want to piss him off. "After you got out of prison…" I started slowly. "…Did you hesitate before re-joining the COG?"
Marcus was quiet for a long moment. "The prison was overrun with grubs," he finally answered. "Not much time for hesitating."
"Okay," I accepted that. "But…after. When the grubs were gone and the fighting was over. Did you ever consider not being a Gear?"
I tried to keep my gaze off of Marcus' face and on the world around us. I could feel the sweat drip down my forehead as I waited for an answer. Conversations with Marcus were never quick; he considered each word he spoke like a sniper picking a shot. "Dom pulled me out of that prison," he said in a low rumble. "I stayed because of him."
"And that was reason enough? After everything the COG did to you?"
This time I felt Marcus' gaze on my face. "…There a reason you're asking?"
I bit my lip while I considered what to say. I didn't want to betray Ace's trust. "Ace is…having a hard time letting things go. He feels…betrayed. By the COG."
The ground beneath our boots changed from grass to sand as we neared the pier. Marcus adjusted course slightly and started heading for the maze of docks and boats to patrol. "I deserved what the COG did to me." He spoke over me when I went to protest. "It's easier to accept shit deals when we deserve them."
I was quiet as I mentally picked apart Marcus' hypothesis. Marcus had gone to prison because he had abandoned the battle for Ephyra with the targeting laser in his pocket, and gotten hundreds of men killed. I received my birthing order because I had hitchhiked on a clandestine operation. Maybe the punishment hadn't met the crime, but there had been a crime committed - for both of us. Ace hadn't done anything wrong. Not that there was anything he could have done to deserve being deserted, but maybe Marcus was right. Maybe a guilty conscience made it easier to swallow the shitty things that happen to us.
"Thanks," I said softly. Once again, I was struck by how much wisdom he held wrapped inside scars and armor.
We finished walking one dock, and turned around to head to the next one. The dock had ships tied off on each side. Most fishing vessels had been ordered to remain in port for the time being, until we figured out why ships were going missing. I examined the sides of each one, in case some Stranded vigilante asshole had tried again to rig them with C4.
We made it back to the neck of the dock when Marcus paused. He had his head tilted to the side, listening to his comm. I had mine set to receive direct calls only, but evidently Marcus listened to the open channel. I didn't know how he could concentrate with all of those voices droning on in his ear constantly, but evidently, he had picked up something interesting.
Instead of asking what happened, I switched my comm to the open channel and listened.
"Control, this is P-Twelve. Control, come in. This is P-Twelve. We've been hit, position grid six-delta, main road-" The voice was more than a little familiar. Anya. No wonder Marcus had stopped short. She was doing road patrol with Mataki today. I would have been there if Baird hadn't been pulled away to the oil rig, and I was reassigned his patrol with Marcus.
"P-Twelve, we've got you," Mathieson said over the radio. "We're scrambling a bird."
"No hostiles spotted, but we might be bait."
"Understood. Injuries?"
"We're both T-three." I had to think back to the crash course in medical training Bernie had given me a few weeks ago. Trauma three – no casualties, and no immediate life-threatening injuries. Color code green. So, they were banged up, but they'd be okay. Well, they'd be okay if nothing else happened. They could have been sitting in a brewing ambush.
"Control," Marcus plugged himself into the conversation. I heard his voice echo over my comm. "Permission to casevac."
"Sorotki's scrambling his bird. Get there before he takes off."
"Wilco."
Marcus took off at a dead sprint up the hill and to the Raven's loft. He didn't bother to check if I was following. Although, he could probably hear the clanking of my plates as I sprinted after him. Suddenly the plates didn't feel as heavy as they had all morning.
The Packhorse laid belly-up on the side of the road. The driver's door and the windshield were both missing. I scanned the dirt, but I didn't see any blood trails. I also didn't see Anya or Mataki. But they were still in radio contact, so they were here. That fact didn't relax Marcus any; he had a fixed stare out the Raven's bulkhead door, and every so often his jaw would twitch.
Looks like Baird and I aren't the only ones fraternizing…
Sorotki landed the bird on the road, as the roadside IED planted there had already been detonated. "Stick to the paved surface, boys and girls. No telling what those bastards have planted either side," he said over the radio.
I landed in the dirt next to Marcus and did a textbook sweep with my rifle up. Anya and Mataki emerged from behind the Packhorse. They each had a couple new scratches adding texture to their face, but they were walking and talking. Mataki was teetering under the weight of the Packhorse's ammo box. "Can't leave it here," she said. "We need to clear the vehicle."
I pulled the box out of Mataki's hands and ignored her protests. "Baird's going to be pissed if we lose a Packhorse." I noted as I loaded the box onto the Raven.
"We'll have Dizzy haul it back to base with Betty later."
"After it's been picked clean?"
"That's why we're taking the important stuff with us," Mataki said, pressing a fuel can into my arms. Marcus was relieving Anya of the fuel can she carried and was steering her back to the Raven.
After I strapped in the fuel can, I noticed Sam wasn't at my side any more. I hopped off the Raven and saw her sniffing the pock-marked road. When she saw me watching her, she sat. Her new alert command for finding an explosive scent trail.
"Guys?" I called out. "Sam's got a trail."
Mataki leaned out the bulkhead door and grinned. "Bloody hell. Time to go arsehole hunting." She hopped out onto the pavement next to me.
"Uh, shouldn't you be heading to see the doc?" I asked her.
The look she gave me could have soured milk. "Mind you elders," she snapped, and walked over to where Sam was waiting. I shrugged, and headed off after her.
"Alright," Mataki said. "We cleared this road yesterday, which means this trail is less than a day old."
"Best time to follow it."
She nodded. "They'll be close. They'll be waiting to pick the packhorse clean once we leave."
It was a guerilla tactic. Booby-trap the road, disable the vehicle, then pick the scraps that were left behind. They had to have heard the explosion, which meant they would be nearby. And Sam could find them. I checked my rifle and nodded. "Let's get 'em," I said.
"Where the hell are you two going?" Marcus asked over the radio. "Pack it in."
"We've got a trail," I answered him.
"We're going hunting, Marcus," Mataki threw in. "You coming or not?"
Marcus didn't bother to argue. "Sorotki? We're going after them. Get Lieutenant Stroud back to base."
"Roger that," Sorotki answered. "Call us when you need us."
"Wait-" Anya's voice interrupted. "I should-" but her voice was cut off by the whine of the Raven as it lifted to the air. I could only imagine how she felt about being dismissed like that. Marcus was going to be in deep shit when we got back to base tonight. I knew I would hog-tie Baird if he tried pulling that with me.
I pulled the leash out of my pack and clipped it to Sam's collar. "Everyone ready?" I asked. "She's going to take off like a shot when I give the command."
"Let 'er rip," Mataki said with a grin.
"Alright. Ready, Sam? Find it."
Sam immediately sprang into a lunge, held back only by the rope tethering her to me. I could hear her snort and sniff at the ground as she led us at a quick jog off the main road and into the grass. She snaked through the tall grass at a dead run. The path she took headed directly towards the woods about 500 meters away.
Sam didn't slow when she hit the tree line, but it was harder for us to keep up with her. The ground became knotted with tree roots and underbrush. I glanced at Mataki, but she had kept pace with Sam and I so far. Her eyes had an unnatural glow that looked like she was riding an adrenaline high. I wondered how long it would last if this trail dragged on for miles.
Mataki paused here and there to check broken branches and other signs of foot traffic. She nodded to herself every now and again, reassuring herself that Sam was keeping us on the right path. Marcus brought up the rear. "Wait up," he called suddenly. "Listen."
I had to switch my comm. back to control. I gave Sam a sit command so she didn't pull my arm out of my socket while I listened. As soon as my comm. connected, my head exploded with voice traffic.
"Say again, Ten-Kilo. How many down? Is Andresen T-one? How bad is he?" T-one triage rating: serious abdominal wound, traumatic limb amputation, required immediate life-saving intervention. Color code red. "Ten-Kilo, KR unit Three-Three is inbound for casevac, estimate ten minutes. Stand by." It was Anya's voice detailing the horrors happening behind the scene. She had made it back to command, and evidently had taken over.
More reports of contact kept filtering over the radio. This wasn't a simple IED plant anymore; this was a large-scale assault. "Fenix to Control," Marcus said after a moment of stunned listening. "Checking in. Need us to do anything?"
It took a minute for Anya to answer. "Marcus, we've got ten incidents ongoing, including one involving Gorasni troops. Looks like a coordinated campaign. If you need air support, you might have a wait on your hands."
"No problem, Control. No contact here so far."
"Hoffman says to bring back some live prisoners."
Marcus' gaze turned to Mataki. "I'll make sure we don't forget that. Keep us posted on Andresen. Fenix out."
"Find it, Sam," I ordered again. This time I had steel in my voice. The mission parameters had changed. This wasn't a game anymore; this was vengeance. I silently prayed that Sam wouldn't lose them in the woods.
Sam pulled us deeper into the forest. She only wavered once on the side of a stream. She paced back and forth, sniffing deeply, before she plunged into the water and swam for the other shore. I waded into the waist-deep water behind her without hesitating. I heard the splashing as Marcus and Mataki did the same. Sam sniffed at a half-formed footprint in the mud, then bounded up the hillside.
We followed Sam deeper into the woods for another half hour. Sam didn't hesitate again until we came to the bottom of a rocky hill. We were near the center of the island, where the volcano turned the landscape into a mountain range. Sam came to a sudden halt and pricked her ears. She stared through the trees and at the slope of a cliff.
"She see something?" Marcus asked.
"I don't know," I said in a hush. I passed the leash to Mataki, who was breathing heavily, and pulled out my longshot. I did a slow scan of the hillside. I trusted Sam's senses far more than I did my own. She hadn't broken her intense stare of the cliffside, even when Mataki took a knee and patted her side.
There. I saw it; just a flash of movement up on the cliffs, ducking into the caves. "Contact," I whispered. "Elevation forty degrees, left of the bushes. See the shadow?"
Marcus had a pair of field glasses out. "Shit," he muttered when he saw what I did. "Caves. Just like old times."
I slowly reached down and unclipped Sam's leash. It would be a climb up the cliffside, and I didn't want her dragging something that could get caught up somewhere. I slung my longshot and eyed Mataki. "Can you make it up there? Marcus and I can handle it."
"Rock climbing? Sure. Why not." There was iron in her voice. This had become personal for all of us. We were under attack, yet again. Mother fuckers, I seethed.
It was a steep slope, about forty degrees straight up. Sam had an easier time than the rest of us. She kept close, however, as she was trained to not leave my side whether she was leashed up or not. My muscles ached as they pulled me from one handhold to the next. I desperately wanted to shed my plate armor. I could have almost ran up the cliffside had I not be wearing it. But if I took it off now there was no guarantee that it would still be there when I came back to fetch it. And if this ended in a firefight, I would definitely need the thick plate.
My radio crackled as Anya keyed into our squad frequency. "Andresen didn't make it. I'm sorry."
We all paused in our climb. Marcus took one hand off the rock he was holding to key up his comm. "Okay, Anya. Thanks."
"KR-Two-Three-Nine is inbound with Dom and Cole. Orders are to take live prisoners."
Why are we taking live prisoners? I wondered silently. We had never bothered before, with the grubs. It didn't make sense. These assholes were killing people. They deserved to be shot on sight. I didn't think Hoffman would be soft on them just because they were human.
Then the realization hit me like ice water down my spine. He wasn't going to be soft with whoever we captured. He was going to interrogate them. Torture them, maybe. To find out where the rest of their gang was. To put an end to this.
My stomach did a flip. I didn't have time to worry about that now, however. I ignored my shaking muscles and pulled myself the rest of the way up the cliff. When I got to the top, Marcus grabbed my arm and hauled me the rest of the way. I wanted to stop and catch my breath, but I forced myself to my feet. I hauled Mataki up onto the shelf of rocky soil where the hill leveled off. The cave entrance was only a few meters away.
Sam stuck her nose to the ground and followed it to the cave. As if there was any doubt where the assholes had run to. I hissed at her to get back as we stacked up outside the entrance. Marcus took point. I was at his back, Sam at my side, and Mataki behind me. I was ready to follow Marcus inside, but he twisted and met my eye. "Send the dog in," he whispered.
I almost started a protest, but it made sense. Sam was trained as an attack dog, and she would be way faster than any of us. Element of surprise, and all that. But if anything happened to her…I swallowed hard.
"Anyone that puts a bullet in my dog dies in their sleep," I warned. "Letting her loose." Instead of unclipping her leash, I unbuckled the collar from around her throat. I didn't want to give anyone an easy handhold on her. I pushed past Marcus to take the lead position. I gave Sam a quick rub on her head, then pointed her at the cave. "Alright, Sam. Sic'em."
Sam took off like a bullet into the darkness of the cave. I took off after her. I could hear her toenails scrabbling for purchase on the rocky ground; the passage was too narrow and uneven to run after her. I braced myself to hear barking and then gunshots, but nothing came.
Around a corner the cavern opened and brightened. Sam sat in the middle of the chamber, surrounded on all sides with old field drums and rusty containers. Bottles with names like 'sodium chlorate' and 'nitrate fertilizer' were stacked high to the rocky ceiling. Sam had found the Stranded cache where they stored their bomb making supplies.
Marcus swung into the room behind me, and started clearing every dark corner large enough for someone to hide. "Good girl!" I praised Sam, giving her a hearty rub down. "Such a good girl!" I clipped her leash and collar back on. Relief flooded through me that she hadn't run into a room filled with gunfire.
Sunlight trickled down through a natural chimney in the roof. Mataki bent over a banked campfire, one hand held over the embers. "They haven't gone far," she said, rising to her feet. "Warm ashes."
"Has she lost the trail?" Marcus asked me.
"Depends if she was following their scent, or the scent of the explosives." I wrapped her leash once around my fist. "Come on, girl. You got this. Find it."
Sam was smarter than even I gave her credit for. She immediately headed for the rear of the cavern, where there was another passage way. This side was wider, but longer. There were dim lights off of my armor but I still couldn't see more than a few inches in front of my face. All I had to rely on was Sam's soft panting and the sound of her paws on the ground ahead of me.
Suddenly the ground arched up ahead of me and became a slope leading upwards and out. Sunlight trickled down through the hole in the ground. I scrambled out into the daylight. This opening was covered with a thicket of thornbushes that snagged anywhere I wasn't covered in hard plate. If we had spooked the Stranded in the cave, they had to be desperate to use this exit. The thorns would have shredded anyone coming through here without armor on.
Marcus called an update to control over the radio, letting them know that Sam was still on the trail. She pulled tightly at the leash, whimpering slightly as I pulled to slow her down. She headed back down the side of the hill. At least this side wasn't as steep, and I managed to follow her on my two feet. I could hear Sorotki's Raven running patrol circles in the air above us.
Sam hit the bottom of the hill and took off as fast as I could run behind her. The leash pulled tightly around my fist. She was trained to be silent on hunts, but I could hear the almost muted squeals of excitement coming from her. She wasn't nearly as loud as Mataki's panting. I didn't have time to worry about her; Sam hit the side of a river and plunged through the shallow pebble bed. She didn't cross the river; instead, she waded upstream. The water was knee-high for anyone not on four legs. Maybe the Stranded had seen us coming with a dog, and took to the river, thinking that would make her lose the trail. They thought wrong.
Marcus took the far riverbed and we moved forward as a team. I stayed in the water with Sam, letting her pull me forward like a tow-boat. Mataki trailed a little further behind on the shore near the hill we had come from.
"Got a visual," Sorotki said over the radio. "In the river. Actually in the river. Three adult males, moving up the south bank – your left, Delta – and armed. I'm dropping Cole and Dom off up ahead to cut them off."
Now that we had visual, I didn't need to rely on Sam's nose. "Come on, Sam," I pulled her to Marcus' side of the river, where we could run without fighting the water. Adrenaline gave me an extra kick, and I sprinted next to Sam faster than we had moved all day. I held her leash and my rifle both in my hand.
"They're splitting up," Sorotki warned us. "Two in the river, one heading north to the woods."
"Cole, Dom, take north," Marcus instructed. He had kept pace with Sam and I, while Mataki was falling behind. "We've got the river."
I could see movement ahead. I dropped Sam's leash just as one of the men turned and spotted us. "Sic'em!" I screamed at Sam as she took off like a shot. The man didn't have time to level his rifle before Sam was on him. She smashed into the man at chest height and knocked him flat onto the riverbank. His rifle disappeared under the water as Sam sunk her teeth into his arm and pulled, twisting muscle and blood vessels. The man tried to curl into a ball as she growled and shook him with all of her strength.
The other man had stopped running. He took a few paces backward – he had a handgun – and tried to line up a shot on Sam. He lost precious seconds in his hesitation. Marcus and I were sprinting neck and neck, but I had already beaten Marcus in a foot race once. I charged into the water and hit the man in a full-on tackle that would have made Cole proud.
We tumbled once, twice, through the water. My boots, my armor, my guns all added enough weight that I had crashed into him with the force of a small car. I had felt his ribs break upon impact. But without that initial inertia, all of that extra weight put me at the bottom of our roll with him on top of me. He had dropped his handgun, but he grabbed my face with both hands and shoved me under the water.
I gulped a mouthful of the river into my lungs as he pushed me under. My skull dug a trench in the riverbed as he forced me down with all of his strength. I struggled to fight him off. I aimed my fists at his chest where I had felt his ribs break, but the water pulled my punches. My boots were too heavy for me to get a decent kick in, and my armor felt like an anchor that kept me under the water.
Suddenly the man's weight lifted off of me and Marcus bodily took him to the ground. He raised his lancer like a club and smacked it with full force against the man's skull. He fell limply into the water. Marcus grabbed the front of his shirt and threw him far enough on the shore that he wouldn't drown.
"What the fuck, Bri?" Marcus spat as I coughed and struggled to catch my breath. His boots sent waves through the water as he crashed to my side. "You okay? Did you forget you have a fucking gun?"
I was going to have bruises on my face where the man had held me under the water. "You wanted him alive," I gasped once I had managed to get enough air into my chest. I felt Marcus gripping my shoulder through my armor, like he was making sure I didn't slide below the water again.
"Bri?!" Mataki called to me with a note of alarm in her voice. "How do I get Sam off this guy?"
Sam was still brutalizing the first man. "Leave it!" I tried to shout, but my voice lacked the strength. I had to repeat the command twice before she listened. Sam finally returned to my side in the river, her eyes bright and tail wagging. "Good girl," I whispered before using river water to wash the blood away from her muzzle.
Mataki took up a guarding position next to the unconscious man. The barrel of her lancer was aimed at his bashed in skull. He looked dead, but Mataki assured me he still had a pulse. The other man was being tended to by Marcus. He was covered in blood and bite marks, but he was awake.
"You fucking bastards," he spat at Marcus. "You bastards. You're worse than the fucking grubs."
"Bite me," I snapped at the asshole. I was too tired to haul myself to my feet, so I just sat in the river. The cool water actually felt pretty good when I wasn't drowning in it.
I heard footsteps coming through the woods to our position. I managed to raise my lancer, but it was just Dom and Cole. They were dragging the third man between them, who was spitting and cursing at the two of them.
"Get your fucking hands off me!" he shouted, and I realized he wasn't a man at all – he was a kid, probably fifteen or sixteen. "I want my dad! Where's my dad? What the hell have you done to him?" I glanced at Dom, but his face was a blank stare. The kid's hands were tied behind his back. I saw his eyes widen when he saw the unconscious man on the riverbank.
"He's alive," I found myself comforting the kid for some reason. He also tried to kill me.
Dom let Cole handle the kid by himself, and he met me in the middle of the river. He held out a hand to haul me to my feet. I was grateful; I probably wouldn't have been able to stand without his help. He examined the scrapes on the side of my face with tight eyes. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.
"I'm fine," I gave him a small smile as reassurance. "Though I'm pretty tired of water ops. My lungs feel like a spare canteen."
Marcus had one hand to his comm., calling in a casevac with Sorotki. Cole had the prisoners lined up on the bank. The kid had fallen silent. He was pressed into his dad's side, silently trying to coax him to consciousness. The third man had his hands tied now, and he leaned to the side so the blood didn't pool in his lap.
Mataki was leaning against a tree. She looked far paler than she should have been. Our mad dash through the woods and hills was far more than she should be doing at her age. Not that she would listen to me.
Marcus shook his head once as he walked over to Dom. He kept his voice low enough that it didn't travel. "These guys are a special delivery for Trescu. I don't think he's planning to bake them a cake."
I felt my stomach flip again. Interrogation, torture…summary execution. It would have been kinder to just shoot them.
I felt Dom eye my face again. "Good enough for me," he said. His voice held an undercurrent of anger. "They detonated fifteen bombs today, Marcus. All over the island. Four gears are dead, more civilians – they even put a bomb in the Gorasnaya camp. I'll volunteer to pull some fingernails if it stops this from happening again."
Marcus was expressionless. "You think it's okay to hand them over?"
"It's not my call. It's Hoffman's. And I'm okay with whatever he decides."
Marcus caught my eye and silently asked for my opinion. I dropped my gaze and turned away, sloshing through the river to the shore. I didn't have any answers for Marcus right then. I was simply glad to be breathing.
Sorotki couldn't land his Raven in the dense foliage, so he had picked a clearing about a half klick to the west. Which meant carrying the unconscious prisoner out of here. Cole had gone to fetch a stretcher, so I took up guarding the prisoners in his stead. Mataki was still trying to catch her breath. "You want us to carry you out too?" I asked her. She responded by flipping me the bird.
The kid finally found his voice again. He kept up a constant stream of abuse aimed my way. "You assholes are going to get what's coming to you," his voice was filled with venom. "Fucking fascists, the lot of you. You're going to regret every second you spend on this island."
"Tell me about it," I said mildly. I checked the seals on my lancer to make sure no water had mixed with the chainsaw's fuel.
"You'll see," he continued, nodding to himself. "There will come a Reckoning. We're going to kill every one of you."
A strange tightness seized my chest. I felt like I had missed a step while going down stairs. Something was off. My instincts were screaming at me for some reason, but I couldn't figure out what-
'FTC units stand ready to rendezvous following completion of mission Reckoning-'
"The fuck did you say?" I growled at him, bending over and getting in his face. He leaned backward, but I could see the stubborn tilt of his jaw.
"I said-"
"Fool!" the other conscious prisoner snapped at him. "Shut your fucking mouth!"
He didn't have to say anything. The damage was already done. I could feel the horror seeping into my bones. I shook my head slowly. I had to be wrong – it had to be a coincidence. Ace wouldn't-
"Bri?" Dom's voice interrupted. "You alright?"
I was going to be sick. I staggered away from the prisoners, further into the woods. My stomach heaved uncomfortably, but I kept a gloved hand sealed over my mouth. I felt the blood drain from my face. I was probably as pale as Mataki had been. I was wrong. I had to be wrong. "Bri?" Dom was calling to me, his face pinched with concern. "What's wrong?"
I ignored him as I keyed up my radio with trembling fingers. I swallowed hard: "Santiago to Control."
Anya came back quickly. Too quickly. Not enough time to change my mind. "Bri? What do you need?"
My voice felt hollow. "I need you to put out an APB on Ace Martinez. I have evidence he was connected to the Stranded assault."
Dom stared at me with wide eyes. The line between me and Anya crackled as she tried to make sense of my request. "Understood," she said, but there was still confusion in her voice. "What do you recommend we do with him once he's located?"
"Detain him. He's a traitor to the COG."
Author's note: Lots of excitement in this chapter. Leave some excitement for me in my review box?
