CHAPTER 12
"ETA to the rebel hideout?"
Brian watched the squad vehicle's navigator/comms officer consult one of his monitor screens.
"We are on our final approach, sir. Touchdown in three minutes."
"And what about the LAPD support squad?"
"I've just been in touch with Lt. Becerra; he's coordinating that squad. LAPD is two blocks away. They should arrive at the target at approximately the same time as we do."
"Very good," Brian said. "Issue an announcement to our squads when we're on our landing cycle. Meanwhile, I'll see to our human guest."
"As you wish, sir."
Brian walked out of the cockpit and threaded his way through a couple dozen Shock Troopers towards the rear of the vehicle. Secured to one of the benches was a bruised and bloodied Dan Pascal.
The counterfeiter looked up at Brian with undisguised fear. Brian gestured to one of his soldiers, who removed the cuffs that held Pascal's wrists to a couple of brackets near his hips.
As soon as Pascal was freed, Brian reached down and pulled him to his feet, then dragged him towards the front of the vehicle.
"If you haven't told us the truth, Pascal, you've forged your last ticket!" said Brian as he shoved the human up against the squad vehicle's front bulkhead which separated the cockpit from the passenger compartment. The human gasped, the wind having been knocked out of him.
"It's the truth," the counterfeiter blubbered out. "I swear it is! You'll find them there."
Brian felt a near-irresistible urge to strike Pascal again, if only to act on the anger he clung to as though it was vital, but he held back. He'd long ago lost count of the blows he himself delivered on this pathetic man, and his was but one pair of hands that brutalized the counterfeiter's body in an effort to extract the information he was assigned to get. He was the ranking officer during the interrogation, which meant he didn't need to participate, but he chose to do so anyway.
His fury needed a means of expression, after all.
Moreover, his anger gave him a feeling of profound strength.
But beyond anything else, his rage made sense to him because it was fully justified.
Just as Diana had, Brian understood that the rebel infiltration of the Medical Center scarcely half a day ago represented a serious threat to the success of their people's mission on Earth. He wasn't about to underestimate the enemy.
And Pascal did help the local rebels; he confessed as much. This made him one of the enemy, regardless of how indirect his actual participation was, as far as Brian was concerned.
And as he thought about all he had done in the last few hours, Brian saw his decision to actively involve himself in Pascal's interrogation as nothing particularly significant.
He was just doing his job. Pascal's wasn't the first interrogation Brian had participated in, and he was fairly sure it wouldn't be the last.
Now, though, he was the featured actor in the next act of the play: He now has the honorable task of coordinating the assault on the rebel hideout. He had been given command over two squads for the job. He didn't know how he got this assignment, but he suspected that Diana herself made that decision.
The fact that Steven, his immediate superior, was not given this job was not lost on him at all.
Who knows – maybe the Supreme Commander himself, John, made the decision to assign this job to him.
Regardless of whose decision it was to give him this particular assignment, Brian wanted to do it as well as he possibly could. He recognized that wiping out the local rebellion may not undo the damage it had done the night before, but it would surely discourage future uprisings from even happening.
And if doing so meant that he would rise further up the ranks and receive glory for his achievements, it was all the better.
He turned away from the cowering Pascal, whom he now saw as nothing more than the way and the means to a bright destiny.