Chapter 7 - Confined
Inside the Red base, Reid finishes applying a brace to Brenda's arm as she lies on her bed wearing only pink undergarments. Her armor is piled haphazardly in the corner. Brenda wipes her straight, brown hair from her blue eyes and watches the crimson soldier as he stands up straight.
Reid looks down at her. "There, done. Are you feeling better?"
She sits up and winces. "Not really."
"Oh, well. I've done all that I can. Good luck snapping anyone's neck in the near future."
"Like this'll stop me," Brenda mutters.
"Seriously, though, you can't fight right now," Reid insists. "You need to rest."
"Yeah, whatever, Doc," she sighs, lying back down.
Reid leaves her room and immediately runs into Tackle.
"Is she gonna be all right?" the sergeant asks.
"Her arm's busted; I had to put a brace on it. She won't be going anywhere anytime soon."
"Damn… I hope she recovers quickly."
"I know you hate to see your sidekick injured, Tackle," Reid says, "but the fact that we're down two soldiers is also a pretty big deal. If the Blues attack, we're fucked."
The Red leader stares at him. "Private Reid, I know you don't believe it, but I really do care about this army. Losing Rabid, for as short a time as I had known him, was still hard. And you, I'll be honest, you're our best soldier." Reid looks at Tackle, surprised, as he continues, "But me and Brenda - we've been through a lot. We met back in basic, and haven't left each other's side since. It was only natural that Command sent us to the same base; we work best together. So forgive my bias, and just know that I care about all of my soldiers."
"Tell him, Tackle!" Brenda's voice calls out from her room.
The crimson soldier is taken aback by the sergeant's rebuttal. Reid didn't know about Tackle's prior history with Brenda; he had come from a different training facility. Not that it excuses the leader's clear favoritism, but he can see it making sense in that idiot's head. He also can't help but be pleased about his skills finally being acknowledged.
"Tackle," Reid responds, "that might be the most sane thing I have ever heard you say. I guess I should apologize… sir."
"Damn right, you should apologize!" Tackle yells. "I fight off four Blues and you report back to me empty-handed? Your ass should be glad that the mission was a success."
"Wait, what?" Reid asks. "That's both irrelevant and not why I was apologizing! The reason I was empty-handed is because the Blues were dumb enough to release Brenda when you asked."
"No, they released Brenda because I ordered-"
"Whatever, I don't care. I'm going outside." Reid leaves the base.
Tackle watches him go. He doesn't like always being at odds with Reid, but the crimson soldier's prowess is undeniable, so he lives with it. The sergeant thinks about Rabid. What was the last thing he said to him? Something about how it was time to be ninjas. Tackle gasps as he has an epiphany: the rookie died because he hadn't stayed true to the ninja spirit! He had tried to assist his sergeant in fighting the Blues instead of working alone and he had paid the ultimate price. The mauve soldier shakes his head. Rabid would have made a terrible ninja.
Tackle looks at Brenda's room. He takes a deep breath and steps inside where he sees her lying in bed, clad in her underwear, her right arm in a brace, and her eyes closed. They flutter open and focus on the sergeant. Brenda smiles. "Hi, Tackle. What's up?"
"I - uh - nothing," he stammers. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."
"Well, my arm hurts. Other than that, I'm good."
"Reid said you need to rest up."
"Yeah, I know," Brenda says dejectedly. "This sucks, especially because I need to go make someone my bitch soon."
"Excuse me?" Tackle says.
"Oh, yeah, I didn't tell you!" she realizes. "The Blue Team's new guy, Shane, is a real asshole. He called me a bitch to my face twice and taunted me while I was locked up! I couldn't even instill the fear of the ninja into him!"
"What?!" Tackle exclaims. "I should kick this guy's ass!"
"We could go together!" Brenda says excitedly. "Make it a date!"
"Huh?"
"Just kidding."
"Oh, right. Ahaha…" Tackle shakily laughs it off.
"But seriously, we need to fuck this guy up," Brenda says, looking at the mauve soldier intently. "I just need my arm to heal."
"Will it heal by itself?" Tackle asks.
"I don't know, but I really hope so. I don't have enough money to pay Reid to look at it again."
Rapid sits in his cell. How long has it been since his capture? Days? Weeks? He isn't sure. He had passed out after his attempt at fooling the Blues failed. Whatever the case, it has definitely been a while. Rapid twiddles his thumbs and starts whistling.
"Oh, shit!" someone cries out from down the hall. "Take cover!"
"What was that about?" Rapid wonders.
Carbon suddenly appears in front of his cell. "Hey, Red, stop whistling!"
The rookie stops and looks at him questioningly.
"There's a rule against it here. Just letting you know." The aqua soldier leaves.
Rapid sighs. So one of his favorite ticks is forbidden? Oh, well. He resumes twiddling his thumbs. However, it isn't enough; Rapid can see the walls closing in, threatening to block him on all sides and cause him to asphyxiate. He scoots up against the iron bars of his cell and faces outward, hoping the open hallway will convince his mind that he isn't trapped. To his relief, Rapid feels himself growing calmer. He starts thinking about what went wrong with the plan to rescue this Brenda chick. Tackle had apparently taken matters into his own hands, so Reid contacted Rapid and…
The rookie pauses. The radio! Can't he get outside help? He should make sure the coast is clear, first. Looking down the hallway, Rapid doesn't see anyone, so he hesitantly turns it on and contacts Tackle.
The Red leader stands guard on top of the base. He had given Brenda a few bucks in case she wanted Reid's help again. Hopefully he didn't up his charges.
The sergeant jumps at the sound of static in his ear. "What the hell?" he mutters.
"Tackle? Are you there?" a voice whispers.
"I'm here…" he answers uncertainly. "What's wrong, Reid?"
"No, I'm Rapid. I-"
"Rabid?!" Tackle shouts. "We thought you were dead!"
"What? No, I'm alive!" the rookie says. "The Blues took me prisoner."
"Damn… unfortunately, I'm not sure how we're gonna get you out of there, Rabid," the sergeant says apologetically. "Brenda's arm is broken, so we only have two soldiers."
"Oh God, please don't leave me here," Rapid pleads.
"Don't worry, Rabid," Tackle assures him, "We'll think of something." He cuts the connection then raises his voice, "Reid! Reid, where are you?"
The crimson soldier runs up to meet him. "Right here. What is it?"
"I just finished talking to Rabid. He isn't dead, he's been captured by the Blues!"
"Wow, really?" Reid feigns surprise. "I had no idea."
"We have to get him back… but there's only the two of us," Tackle says. "What are we going to do?"
Reid thinks for a moment. "What if-"
"Maybe we should consult Brenda," the sergeant interrupts him, turning to go inside.
"No, wait, Tackle," Reid says, grabbing his arm. "I think I know what to do."
"That's great! Let's run it by Brenda just to be sure."
"We don't have to," the crimson soldier insists. "Listen: why don't you just ask for Rapid back? It worked with her, I don't see why it wouldn't work again. And if they don't go for that, how about you draw their attention while I sneak inside the base like we did last time? We didn't need Rapid for that, and it would have worked if she had actually been there."
Tackle ponders this. "…All right. I'll listen to you this time, Reid. Let's go save Rabid!"
