Ch. 57: The Second Mother

A.N.:

Okay, so I admit that I bit off a little more than I had anticipated with my class schedule this semester. My spare time is limited even more so than usual right now so please bear with me for the updates.

Anyway,

In this chapter, we learn the truth about Becket's childhood and ATC is back on the scene.

Read and review if you want :)

The familiar flood of exhaustion and pain welcomed me as I regained consciousness. I was lying on my back in what at a cursory glance appeared to be a shallow ditch. The sight of the hauntingly depressing flame-filled sky was now so common place that it failed to cause an emotional response in me. Neither did the smoldering carcass of an EPA lying mere inches to my left as though it had been a miracle that it had not landed directly on top of me. A thin layer of ash had accumulated on the exterior of my HUD glasses since I had lost consciousness due to the light precipitation of the soft, grey snowflake-like particles.

The chaos around me was muted and meaningless as the small, pale face that would have been mistaken for being that of a young child by an individual that had not had the fortune and/or misfortune of meeting the raven-haired goddess and learning the truth about her existence looked down at me. An expression of amusement replaced her normally mask-like façade as she looked down at me from where she was on her hands and knees just before the top of my shoulder blades. Her long dark hair hung down like a soft curtain and its length allowed the tips of the longest strands to reach the surface of the skull ski mask that covered my face.

Her amused, bizarrely bubbly demeanor continued as she remarked, "Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Silly little boy is in bedy-bye again isn't he?"

I sighed before I replied, "I wish…just got knocked unconscious when the EMP Rocket made the EPA's system overload and detonate."

My wife's amused demeanor became one of concern as she flashed me a worried look before asking, "Are you alright? Do you want to take a break?"

I groaned loudly in discomfort as I hauled my aching, armored form out of the layer of ash and thick mud. Upon getting my knees under me, I located my battered, mud and soot-covered Patten Assault Rifle where it was nearly cut in half right through the center of the receiver by one of the arms of the fallen EPA. I muttered under my breath as I raised the trigger side of my ruined weapon with my gloved left hand before tossing it into the ash-covered muddy soup that was the ground with a slight scowl on my face.

I certainly was a contender for most incompetent Special Forces Operative that ever set foot on the battlefield. At this point, it was a running joke that I lost my main weapon at the most inconvenient times as possible. As I forced my body to stand, the sudden onrush of the chaos around me nearly sent me back to the ground as it almost completely overwhelmed my senses.

The sounds of small arms fire and high explosive ordinance was nearly deafening. To my left and as far back as I could see, I saw the sight of Replica and a mixture of soldiers from our allied nations advancing under a hail of incoming fire from the heavily fortified building that was positioned at the summit of the largest geological formation in the entire operation area. Amongst the advancing soldiers were EPA's, REV6's, Main Battle Tanks, APC's, and, of course, the titanic King Kong EPA's. Meanwhile, in the burning sky above me were seemingly unlimited amounts of winged flying abominations that seemed to be comprised of both heavily built male and strikingly feminine female humanoids that were jet black and wielded vicious claws that could tear both flesh and metal with ease. Engaging the creatures were various helicopters such as Apaches, Black Hawks, Little Birds, and Cobras, along with various ground support aircraft such as Ghost Rider and the other AC-130s, and various fighter aircraft such as F-32's. In truth, the battle seemed to be too large for the landscape in which it was taking place.

With our supply lines in order, we had advanced through the entire Operation Apocalypse area and now had the last bastion of Akira's Local Forces pinned down around the gothic-style fortress that was located behind her beach house and somehow been missed by the pre-mission reconnaissance. The unprecedented advance had been the result of the success of a new, revolutionary style of warfare that had been the brainchild of Jin Sun-Kwon. The tactic called for a constant assault on the enemy positions to prevent them from being able to mount an effective counter offensive.

Before, such an approach to warfare would have been both logistically and practically impossible to sustain for an extended period of time. Machines simply could not operate under such conditions due to their fuel and mechanical limitations. More importantly, the human body was simply not biologically capable of sustained combat. True, there were ways that soldiers "cheated" to stay alert for days during times of necessity but when their bodies finally got a break, they were next to useless until they recovered.

However, with the Replica and the advanced engineering of the power armor, such constant warfare was indeed finally possible. The Replica were biologically engineered super weapons that did not suffer from such inconvenient issues as exhaustion. They were telepathically linked to me and, thus, their battle order was never an issue. Meanwhile, the power source of the power armor units allowed them to be in near continuous use for weeks at a time. The same technology had been hastily modified to be used in the ground vehicles of our allies. Spearheading the rapid advance was the Replica First Battalion and Dark Signal, which is what led to my near death when the EPA that was supporting our advance on the stronghold was hit by a shoulder-mounted EMP Rocket from one of the enemy defenders.

I looked back down at my wife as she continued to give me a concerned expression as she stood before me with a thick black aura around her frame. I flashed a brave smile beneath my mask before I assured her, "I'm fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me."

"Did you lose your weapon again, brother?"

I turned to see Alpha 1 entered the ditch. My heavily armored partner moved towards me as he continued with his modified voice, "You really should learn how to maintain possession of your weapon."

I shot back, "I didn't lose my weapon! I simply misplaced it!" As if on cue, one of our allied soldiers, who had been running along the edge of the ditch, was hit by a antipersonnel fragmentation round from a large caliber weapon and, thus, his entire body from his waist up was liquefied. The psychological impact of the resulting shower of blood and flesh was increased by the sight of the pair of twitching legs that slowly collapsed onto the ground. However, I caught the flying Patten Assault Rifle with my gloved right hand.

Presenting the rifle to the two individuals before me, I said calmly, "See? I just misplaced it and, now, I have found it." Ignoring the look of exasperation that Alma flashed me while she shook her heart-shaped head, I turned to face the imposing fortress that was before us and then began to charge towards it once again.

The massive building resembled a hybrid between a castle and a gothic-style church. It had the thick defensive walls and turrets of a castle but had the grim yet beautiful aesthetics of a Late Medieval church. In fact, the large structure resembled the Reims Cathedral from France with its grandiose front side with two large towers on both ends. The building itself was made out of what appeared to be glossy black and smooth blocks that resembled polished obsidian. However, whatever material that the building was made out of was unnaturally resilient as it had weathered numerous hits from all ranges of weapon fire and had yet to even have a visible scratch on its smooth exterior.

The enemy was certainly not going to give up the last stronghold in the area without a fight. Multiple enemy tanks with supporting infantry were dug in at various defensive lines along the only traversable path to the summit. In addition, the humanoids in the sky were prone to swooping down to rip apart a seemingly random target while screeching like banshees. The situation was complicated further still by the fact that the path up to the summit narrowed to less than three hundred yards across and there was a sheer drop on both sides.

At the beginning of the ascending path, I noticed the flaming carcass of a downed Cobra helicopter. Sprinting towards it while the whistling of near misses from enemy small arms fire filled my ears, I addressed Dark Signal and War Dog 1 through my com link, "Dark Signal, War Dog 1, regroup by the downed Cobra at the base of the summit." They gave their various responses and, moments later, we were all taking cover behind the helicopter.

We were nearly unrecognizable beneath the dirt, blood, and muck that covered our haggard frames. Due to the deafening chaos around us, I had to use my com link as I said, "Alright, we've come this far. Once we take this last stronghold, we can rest for a moment."

Foxtrot 813 commented, "Aw do the frail human beings need to go to bed?"

Holiday replied, "Yeah, and just remember to ask your mom how it was because she is joining us…oh wait that's right…you test tube motherfuckers don't have parents…or families…or friends…or souls."

The mud-covered Replica reached forward with his gloved left hand and then brushed off Holiday's right shoulder. The former Delta Force Operative was covered with a layer of white ash and, as a result, Foxtrot's brushing caused a noticeable cloud of white particles to fall from the soldier's frame. As Foxtrot returned his hand to his rifle's foregrip, he commented, "Damn Holiday you are one…ashy…motherfucker, I will tell you that."

The demolition specialist retorted, "Kiss my black ass."

Foxtrot laughed before pretending to inspect the soldier's ash-covered posterior before he commented, "It doesn't look so black to me."

Suddenly, I sensed a presence behind me. Alarmed, I wheeled around to find the heart-stopping sight of a stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl walking towards me with an unnerving calm and gentle smile on her attractive face. Fighting the urge to flee, I raised my rifle up and then discharged a round straight into the center of her head.

As the horrific monster collapsed onto the ground, Morales asked, "Okay…who the Hell was that?"

Turning back to face my squad, I explained, "An ancient monster that preys upon specific men. She has been stalking me ever since we cleared out the cargo tunnel."

Holiday commented, "Well at least this one isn't a prepubescent girl."

Confused, I asked, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

He replied, "Oh, you know exactly what it means."

Appalled, I shot back, "Hey! I am not attracted to little girls!"

Much to my surprise and, seemingly at the worst possible time, the little girl that was obsessed with Happy Grove materialized directly in front of me. As the psychotic spirit stood before me, I immediately noticed that her attire had changed to be a maid's outfit. In addition to the cliché black and white outfit, the delusional pale girl had manifested a pair of cat ears and a matching tail that she was able to consciously control. Completing her outfit, around her thin neck, I saw a little silk collar that had a small but shiny brass bell attached to the center.

I felt my face heat up as the full extent of the blatant display became apparent moments later when she flashed me a cute, warm smile before she said with an enchanting tone, "Welcome back, Onii-chan!"

I could have sworn that I heard a squeaking sound fill my mind briefly as I came to terms with what she had just said. Meanwhile, I involuntarily asked out loud, "Huh?"

The pale brunette pouted before she asked with a downtrodden tone, "Is…is this not pleasing to you master? I…I can do better! I'll do anything with my body to please you master!"

I ignored Foxtrot 813 as he said with a flat tone, "Yeah that sounds about right for Becket."

Before I could reply to the little girl's desperate desire to gain my affection, Alma suddenly materialized with a murderous expression on her face. The red dress clad goddess roughly pushed the other child-like being aside as she barked, "Step off, bitch! He's mine! Mine! Mine! MINE!"

A look of shock and fright appeared on the little girl's face before she cried out, "B-b-but...mistress...I…I want to pleasure you too!"

For the first time since I had known her, Alma flashed a look of bewilderment as she tried to process what the girl had so shamelessly declared. Her bewilderment was justified as it seemed that she had finally been beaten in her own game. The comically out of place scene continued as the girl moved forward and kissed Alma passionately. When they finally withdrew from each other, she asked my wife, "Did that please you, mistress?" The red dress clad goddess nodded with a stunned look on her face in response.

The strange girl smiled happily as she also wagged her tail before she said, "Thank you, mistress!" Then, looking at both Alma and me, she declared, "I love you both so much! Someday, it will just be the three of us…our bodies will be intertwined in hot passion…master and mistress with me in between."

Alma barked, "You are in no position to make plans like that!"

The girl licked her lips as she let out a soft purr before she replied, "Come now, mistress…don't be a prude."

An icy black aura appeared around my wife as she asked in disbelief, "Pr-prude?" I felt a stab of primal fear as she started to laugh at the accusation. Moments later, Alma warned the enthusiastic spirit, "Careful little girl…don't play with fire."

The girl smiled brightly before she replied, "It's okay, mistress. I know that being old means that you are behind on sexual techniques but I will do my best to coach you."

Alma laughed darkly before she retorted, "First of all, I am NOT old. I am only in my forties. Second of all, if you think that my sexual techniques are outdated…then I will show you hot, nasty sex the likes of which this world has never seen before!"

Desiring to get as far away from the two feuding spirits as possible, I turned back to face the members of my squad and War Dog 1. Somewhat amused by Holiday's expression that was a mixture of horror, fascination, and disgust, I said, "For the record, shit just happens. Not to mention that Alma is in her forties and technically isn't even human for that matter. So, step off and fall in line soldier."

As much as I hated to admit it, part of the reason that none of my non-Replica comrades ever attempted to challenge my authority was that even my closest comrades were frightened by what I could do when I was sufficiently enraged. Machiavelli said that it was better to be feared than to be loved if one could not be both in his renowned book, The Prince. While in a perfect world I would rather be loved and admired by those around me, I understood that people responded to fear more than they responded to love.

Having restored discipline and order in my squad, I ordered them, "We're going to spearhead the advance. No bullshit, just get it done. On me, let's move out." In unison, they replied in confirmation. I took a deep breath as I steeled myself and gathered enough nerve to willingly charge straight through enemy fire once again. Then, I left the relative safety of the burning helicopter carcass and began to ascend the path to the summit.

The ground beneath my feet was similar to volcanic sand and, thus, my progress was slowed substantially as my heavy combat boots sank into the black particles with each step. Keeping my rifle steady, I fought against the restrictive terrain and, slowly, I made my way towards the first enemy line that was approximately three hundred yards away.

It was a simple defensive line comprised of transparent, lightweight, and easily transportable riot barricades that were likely constructed from ballistic plastic. The barricades were as tall as a person and a line of them extended from one side of the path to the other. Just behind the barricades were standard hellsoldiers armed with small arms. In addition, I saw four lightweight platforms that resembled hunting stands used by both amateur and professional game hunters. Except, in this case, the concealed marksman was hunting both myself and my allied soldiers rather than game animals.

Through our telepathic link, I ordered the overhead gun platforms, 'Ghost Rider, Mars, Grim Reaper, Valkyrie, target the sniping positions in the First Line. Lethal Force authorized…code is as follows: Tango Delta Foxtrot Eight Nine Seven Kilo. Repeat: target the sniping positions in the First Line. Lethal Force authorized…code is as follows: Tango Delta Foxtrot Eight Nine Seven Kilo.'

The AC-130s' fire control officers replied in unison, 'Roger that, commander. Stand bye.' Moments later, flashes appeared in the fiery sky and no more than two seconds later, they reported, "Shots out!" Before my eyes, the gunships' 40mm Vulcan Gatling Cannons simultaneously delivered a lethal river of fire on the four platforms. The incredible volume of fire shredded both the platforms themselves and the enemy sharpshooters.

I commended the gunships, 'Targets neutralized. Outstanding work, gentlemen.'

By then, I had closed to within one hundred yards of the barricades. However, as I continued towards the First Line, I suddenly heard the telltale whistling of incoming mortar rounds. We were out in the open so all I could do was turn around and then yell at the onslaught of soldiers yards behind me, "MORTARS! SPREAD OUT NOW!" I had no sooner yelled the last word before I was blown off my feet by the shock wave of a nearby mortar round.

Seconds later when my mind finally recovered, I found myself on my back. By some miracle, I did not feel anything missing and my HUD did not report any internal damage other than another cracked rib and some minor shock trauma to my liver, kidneys, pancreas, and intestines. Of course, such inflicted damage would have likely been debilitating to an average person but, to me, it was all little more than inconveniences.

A ringing filled my mind as my sense of hearing recovered but I was still able to feel the vibrations of the explosions due to the impact tremors in the ground beneath me. I became aware of a large, heavy object on top of me and I realized that it was Alpha 1 who was using his much more heavily armored frame to shield me from the flying shrapnel. I sometimes found myself being jealous of my brother's armor, which was actually as effective as the armor of most modern battle tanks. Meanwhile, my own Dark Signal armor, while significantly more effective than the armor worn by the average foot soldier, was merely highly advanced and reinforced medium grade combat armor.

When the shelling finally stopped what seemed like an eternity later, Alpha 1 helped me to my feet. I nodded slightly to show my appreciation as I bent down and retrieved my rifle. Behind me, I heard a familiar voice cry with agony in his voice, "Medic!" I felt a knot in my abdomen as I turned to see Holiday sitting upright approximately fifteen yards away. His expression was full of confusion and disbelief while his right hand was covered with blood as he clutched his mangled left leg, which had been severed from the knee down.

I cursed under my breath as I looked at the bleeding limb. There was nothing that I could do for him since this type of wound was beyond what Medkits were able to repair. Luckily, a Replica Field Medic was nearby and, as he worked on sealing off the veins to prevent the former Delta Force Operative from bleeding out, he looked at me from beneath his glowing white visor whereupon he informed me, "I'll stabilize him, sir. Seventy-five percent likelihood that he will survive though I'm afraid that he will need a prosthetic."

I replied, "Understood." Looking at Holiday, I threatened him, "Die on me and I will have them bury you in a pink dress."

Though in pain, my friend replied, "Appreciate the motivational speech."

I remarked, "Any time." Then, I turned back to face the First Line and began to advance forward once again. When we closed to within fifty yards of the riot barricades, I stopped and said to my brother through our link, 'I need a door.'

Moving to stand beside me, my brother let out his low grunt-like laughs as he retrieved his Missile Launcher. The Heavy Trooper took aim at the center of the barricades and then fired. The warhead hit home and delivered its medium-sized explosive payload. When the dust cloud settled moments later, I saw that the three center barricades had been completely destroyed. As I raised my rifle up and began to fire upon the humanoids while aiming through the pseudo-ACOG scope, I commended Alpha 1, 'Outstanding shot!'

Ignoring the pain of the occasional odd round that struck my body, I continued to advance while applying pressure on the hellsoldiers. When I got close enough, I reached for a shock grenade and then tossed it into the opening. I waited patiently for the small tactical grenade to detonate. When it did, I activated my reflexes and, with the world moving at a snail's pace, I charged through the opening with my Patten held dead steady in a vise-like grip.

I found at least a twenty hellsoldiers on either side of the opening. Taking advantage of the effects of my shock grenade, I took aim and dropped ten of the armored soldiers on the left side with rapid, successive head shots. By then, Alpha 1 and War Dog 1 had started to engage the enemy to my right and Foxtrot 813 had started to assist me with the remaining soldiers on the left.

Within seconds, we had cut them all down. As I deactivated my reflexes, I reloaded my rifle. I had just finished when the deafening screech of one of the flying humanoids filled the air. Snapping my aim up to the sky, I saw a male individual rapidly descending towards me with its talons outstretched and ready to slice my body into multiple large chunks.

Activating my reflexes, I took aim and began to hammer the incoming airborne menace with 7.7mm rounds. My nearby allies opened fire as well but our rounds did not seem to even faze the demonic creature. Even with my enhanced reflexes, I was unable to dodge the creature in time. However, at the last second, my body became enveloped by a dark red aura as I raised the palm of my left hand towards the humanoid. My reflection had just become visible in the reflective surface of the flying demon's eyes when I willed a powerful psychic blast from my left palm into its frame.

The male humanoid screeched in agony as my high-powered psionic attack vaporized his body leaving only an ash cloud that covered my already filthy exterior. As I deactivated my reflexes and the aura faded, Alma materialized before me in her child form. She smiled proudly as she commended me, "You have made so much progress! You didn't even have to think about it that time."

I smiled slightly before I replied, "I didn't feel any anger or…really anything."

My wife nodded before she said, "At this rate, you will be ready for more advanced uses of your psionic abilities in no time."

I remarked, "I have a great teacher."

The raven-haired girl narrowed her eyes and curled the right corner of her mouth into a smirk before she said, "And don't you forget it, little boy." Then, giving me a wink, she dematerialized in a cloud of rose pedal-like particles.

"Sir, I have eyes on enemy armor!" Bravo 2's warning caused me to turn my attention to the next defensive line that was three hundred yards from our current position. There, I saw the rounded turrets of five tanks that were either modernized T-62s or one of its successors. The tanks were positioned behind the minimal cover of hastily stacked sandbags in the midst of a defensive line of chest high barriers.

Bravo 2 had alerted us just in time. Seconds after I had seen the tanks, I saw muzzle flashes appear before them. My body reacted long before my mind did and I found myself lying prostate on the loose ground where I had landed as a result of my hardwired instinctive lunge. Fortune was once again on my side as I was showered by a cloud of black sand and mud from the explosion of one of the tanks' rounds that hit the ground where I had been standing seconds prior.

Remaining on the ground, I telepathically contacted a nearby flight of Replica A-10s, 'Hostile armored vehicles located. You have permission to engage the targets.'

The Flight Lead replied, 'Roger that, sir. We are beginning our attack run.' Within thirty seconds, the flight appeared in the burning sky and the sound of electrical humming filled the air as they unleashed the formidable firepower of their Vulcan Gating Cannons upon the captured Russian tanks. The air strike was over within seconds but the devastating attack's effectiveness was proven by the billowing black smoke that rose up into the already thoroughly polluted air as the shattered frames of the battle tanks began to burn furiously.

The surviving hellsoldiers began to open fire with their small arms but they were quickly driven into cover by the overwhelming collective firepower of the five EPA units' Rotating Cannons as the advancing bipedal vehicles crushed the remained riot barricades of the First Line beneath their feet. Relieved that the EPA's were able to ascend the sloped and soft path, the original assessment by our engineering teams was that armored units would not be able to get enough traction or footing to advance up the hill to support the infantry, I eagerly allowed them to take the lead.

As we slowly made our way up the path behind the EPA's, I was finally able to collect my thoughts. When I did, I realized that it had been some time since we had seen or heard from Akira. Either she had business elsewhere once again or she had been hurt somehow. A chill went down my spine as I contemplated the possibility of the latter. She was from an alternate reality and was the living incarnation of evil but she was still my daughter.

My thoughts were derailed when I suddenly received an incoming transmission from an unidentified source. A middle-aged woman with an air of smug self-importance addressed me, "Greetings Michael Becket…oh wait, you go by Sergeant Becket now…that's right."

I replied with a sharp tone, "Who is this? This is a secure military channel! Identify yourself!"

The unidentified woman gave a curt laugh before she replied, "My, how rude. Now is that any way to talk to the woman that gave birth to you?"

I stopped in mid-step as I heard the last few words. Given birth to me? No, that just was not possible. Either I had misheard her or this woman was out of her mind. My biological mother was Mary Becket, wife of Alex Becket, and had been dead for some time. My real mother was Alma Wade, who had raised me as if I had been her own flesh and blood son but we had fallen in love with each other as time had passed. I knew all of these to be concrete facts.

As if amused by my silence, the woman remarked, "I'll take your silence as meaning that you don't believe me. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Emily Aristide, sister of Genevieve Aristide. I am Head of Research and Development at Armacham Technology Corporation Headquarters in Antarctica."

I said in response, "Antarctica? I'll make sure to come pay you a visit to show you may appreciation then…mom."

Before I could deactivate my com link, Emily informed me, "We know how to contain Akira."

I snorted before I replied, "Just like you knew how to contain Alma, right? No sale. Now, piss off, I'm busy. We'll be there to kill all of you after we are done making sure that the world doesn't end."

Emily said, "We have the means to end the war. All we are asking for is cooperation."

By then, my squad and Alma had gathered around me and were listening in with their own com links. I laughed before I replied, "Why should I believe anything that you are saying? You are in no position to be asking for anything from me."

"Michael…" I looked down at my wife. She looked back at me with guilty eyes as she continued, "She is the sister of Aristide. She did give birth to you. I'm sorry I didn't…I thought that you wouldn't have wanted to know…"

Even with Alma's admission, my mind stubbornly refused to believe it. Me, the nephew of the bitch that had been the president of the corporation that was responsible for not just one but several of the greatest crimes against humanity that world had ever seen? Besides, I looked nothing like Aristide or, most likely, her sister either. It just was not possible.

Emily seemed to be enjoying my distress as she informed me, "You are the son of Alex Becket…just not his wife. Didn't you ever wonder why they treated you like they did? It is hard to love a bastard child. In fact, he didn't even agree to take you…until the medical discharge that was funded by my sister and fabricated by Armacham-affiliated psychologists. We threatened to have Mary killed if he didn't play his part at the hearing."

Even the most stubborn part of me was forced to come to grip with the truth. My father had been a victim of ATC's twisted agenda just as much as I had been. Granted, he had an affair but he was still a victim in a sense. I had been the reason that he had been discharged from the military. I had been forced into my father's life under the threat of Mary being killed. That was why they had treated me so horribly.

Emily remarked, "I take your silence as meaning that I've gotten through to you. If I am bothering to tell the truth about our relationship, Michael, is it not likely that I am telling the truth about being able to contain Akira? We want to live just as much as you do. Is it not in our best interest to help you? In addition, we have something here that I am sure your master would greatly appreciate gaining access to."

Looking down at Alma, who had raised her right eyebrow upon hearing the last statement that Emily had made, I asked, "That being?"

The Armacham employee replied, "We have the last clone created from her genetic code in storage here. A perfect copy of her original body...a perfect vessel for her…that is something that she would be interested in, correct?"

My wife gasped quietly. I looked at her and then at my squad members. We all looked at each other for a moment before an air of understanding surrounded us. I asked the sister of Genevieve with a flat tone, "What do you want?"

Emily replied, "Ah, I see that we have an accord. We will be in touch, Michael. Until next time, try not to die. You are a billion dollar biological weapon and a valuable piece of property to the corporation. Also, you are my crowning achievement and I would prefer that you lived long enough for me to finally see what you became in person."

Before I could reply, the transmission ended. Baffled and feeling like a sledgehammer had been swung into my heart, I silently motioned with my head for my team to follow me. They returned the gesture and I began to make my way back to being directly behind the EPA's as they continued towards the mission objective. The mission took priority. My personal feelings were not part of the mission and thus I could not allow them to hinder my ability to complete my mission. Once the mission had been completed, I would deal with these new complications.