Chapter 3

—

Washington sighed, stowing his Battle Rifle in the passenger seat of Tuckers Warthog. The Sim Troopers got into a little fight over Simmons driving, and the keys ended up with the aquamarine soldier. The Reds would ride together in one vehicle, and the Blues in another. Carolina would be taking the Mongoose that the Command Operatives were so generously able to provide for them.

Looking up and across the vehicle, Wash signaled Tucker with the wave of his hand. "Hey, go grab Simmons and bring him over here; Church and Tex as well."

Tucker looked over at the Freelancer, cocking his head in a confused notion. "Why?" Is all he asked, shutting off the vehicle. They didn't want to be wasting fuel, who knows when they'd come across any extra; and the canisters they were carrying were only going to last them so long.

"Just do it. We gotta make some adjustments." Wash explained, not up for a debate right now when they had to be heading out soon. Who knows how many more operatives could be on their way.

"Fine." Is all Tucker said, hopping out and walking over to the building; hopefully tracking down the individuals Wash had requested.

The Freelancer groaned, placing his hands on the frame of the 'hog and rolling his neck. Joints popped and gave him a brief but sweet release. 'Damn, I'm getting old.' Is all he could think.

A few minutes later Tucker returned; both Simmons and the two A.I. standing beside him. Church was the first to speak, looking at the weird mix of people.

"Alright, what gives?" He asked, settling his eyes back on Washington. "I thought we were heading out?

"We are." Wash said blankly. "I'm pairing you two up so we don't have to worry about either of you disappearing on us. Church is going to be assigned to Tucker, and Tex with Simmons."

Tex was quick to object, shooting a glare at Wash. "Now hold on a second. You're sticking me with Simmons?"

"Thanks.." The red trooper mumbled, not even loud enough for anyone to hear.

"Would you rather be paired with Tucker? Or Caboose?" Washington shot back, Tex sucking in a breath in response.

"..on second thought? Simmons works fine." She admitted. To be fair, it was probably the best choice.

"Why not one of you two?" Simmons inquired, his tone layered with suspicion. "Wouldn't it be more beneficial for one of the Freelancers to be lugging around an A.I?"

Washington hesitated, not sure how to really explain the situation. "Because… I don't do that. Not anymore." The only reason he ever even considered it with the Alpha was because it was literally their last play. "And Carolina.."

He looked over his shoulder; the other Freelancer was busy with doing a check on her Mongoose. "Carolina doesn't really know what to do about you two right now. It's for the best to keep you guys away for now." Wash looked at Tex for the last part; the message was clear. And it resonated with Tex more than anyone else.

"We head out soon." Wash continued. "Simmons, run Tucker through on his interface. I really don't want to have to worry about you four accidentally killing each other."

"Awh, but where's the fun in that?" Tex whined in a joking manner. Joke or not, it still managed to make Simmons shudder.

—

The wind moving through his hair surely made Tucker feel better about their situation, his driving allowing their 'hog to follow the convoy in front of them. Wash sat beside him in the shotgun seat; and Caboose was currently out cold in the back. The Rookie was staying glued down with the straps usually used for transporting cargo. Had to hand it to him, the kid was a genius when he felt like it.

Washingtons own helmet was removed too, the Freelancer guzzling down a bottle of water. Tucker nudged him with his elbow, holding his gloved hand out in a pleading manner. "Hey, lemme get some of that."

Washington complied, handing it over without the screw-on lid. Tucker took a few refreshing sips before handing it back; making sure to watch the vehicles in front of them so they didn't get lost.

"How much further till we get where we're going anyways?" Tucker asked, risking a quick look at Washington

"It's better if you don't know." Was his answer, fuckin cryptic as always.

Epsilon projected himself in front of the two, practically standing on the gear shift. "Is that your way of saying you have no clue?"

"No. It's my way of saying that it's a long ride. So get comfortable." Wash finished off his sentence by finishing off his water bottle. He screwed the lid back on and set the empty plastic container down on the flooring of the Warthog. Maybe they'll get a chance to refill it down the line.

"Hey, Church." Tucker began, "So how many Freelancers are like- left?"

"What do ya mean?" Epsilon asked, genuinely curious to what he was after here. Wash stayed silent, really just wanting to listen in on this topic. He would speak up if Epsilon got anything wrong.

"I mean that- like- I feel like we keep getting caught up in all this Freelancer drama. Tex, Wyoming, Wash and the Meta. The list goes on and on! And now we got this new chick on a crusade against what's basically our old boss. Please tell me this is the last time we gotta worry about it."

"Sorry dude, I got no clue. Wash, little help here?" Epsilon said, looking to Wash for help.

"There's not many active Freelancers left." Washington explained. "Many of them retired after the project went under. The ones who didn't were hunted down by the Meta for their gear and equipment. I don't think we'll be having many other… 'Freelancer' complications while we are out there."

"Yeah." Epsilon sneered. "I guess it's kinda hard to stay alive with such a crazy life."

"It is. Some even went down in the field. Like Georgia and C.T." Washington said, regretful that he couldn't even say goodbye to her, she was-

"Oh yeah!" Tucker shouted. "We fried his ass like a fucking pop-tart man! You shoulda seen Church fry that asshole."

"I remember that." Epsilon had a hint of pride in his voice. "Damn, I miss that fucking laser."

"Wait." Wash said, his eyebrows curled up in confusion. "You killed who?"

"That C.T motherfucker." Tucker boasted. "I didn't even know he was a Freelancer. Mark another score for the Sim-Troopers."

"That's impossible, C.T died during an op involving the Resistance. Matter of fact, Texas killed her." Washingtons head was churning, trying to figure out what the hell they were talking about.

"Her?" Epsilon was getting confused himself too. "Nah dude, that was a fuckin guy."

"Yeah, I even saw em with his helmet off when he first showed up to the Sandtrap." Tucker elaborated, taking his eyes off the road again to sneak a look at Wash.

"Just… drop the topic for now. This is a lot of information to take in."

He knew armor had wound up elsewhere. But- it was just- he needed to let his mind shut down for a bit.

"The fuck? You all drag us around and make us do all this shit, but when it gets too much for you to- oh shit!" Tucker slammed the brakes to the Warthog. Their hog almost rear-ended the one in front of em. For some reason, the Reds stopped.

They slipped their helmets on, stepping out to see what the big deal was. Even with their fast reaction time, Tucker and Wash only caught the bottom half of the conversation, Grifs voice in their ears.

"Not as ridiculous as Bonner Street."