Chapter 11 - Convergence
It's blurry. Too dark. Lots of pain.
As Carbon comes to, he isn't greeted with the best of sensations. It feels like an alien is eating its way out of his stomach. What happened? He had saved Evans from future harm, then got shot inside the Blue base. Oh, crap, that's right: the Reds rescued their prisoner.
Gradually, his vision focuses. Once he's able to see clearly, though, his confusion isn't lessened. Carbon finds himself on the dirty floor of what looks like a rundown laboratory. The room has rusted metallic walls, a dim light overhead, and a large, blank computer monitor on the wall to his right. A cluttered counter lines the wall on Carbon's left, and across from him is a closed wooden door. What the hell is this place?
The door opens and Evans emerges, his helmet in his hands. He doesn't look well; his brown eyes are tired and his steps are staggered. Several questions run through Carbon's mind. Wasn't he shot? How is he up and moving? Since when was he bald? Carbon has seen Evans without his helmet in the past, but he used to have short, dark brown hair.
"…Evans?" he groans.
The Blue leader regards his injured soldier. "You're awake."
"Yeah… where am I?"
"We're in the panic bunker."
Carbon's confusion reaches new heights. "The panic - are you saying we actually have a panic bunker?!"
Evans looks at him quizzically. "Of course! How could you possibly forget?"
"But…" Carbon doesn't want to say that he thought Evans was just hiding under his bed this whole time.
"No matter. We're in here under strange circumstances," he says. "I woke up next to you under my bed, both of us with grievous injuries. I had no memory of how we got there, but I can only assume that I saved us before we could be slain by the enemy. I got us both into the panic bunker and managed to patch myself up with my stash of medical supplies."
Carbon attempts to sit up, but moans and lies back down. "What about me? I don't feel any better."
"Sorry, Carbon. I neglected you in favor of myself because let's be honest, I take priority."
"Are you going to work on me now?"
"No time," Evans says. "I need to return to the surface, make sure the base is intact, and if I have to, kick out the Reds."
"What the hell? Can't you numb me or something?!" Carbon cries as his commander walks away. When he gets no response, his curiosity gets the better of him and he calls out, "Why are you bald?!"
"Assassination lice!" Evans leaves the room, putting on his helmet.
On the way to the exit, he stops in front of a large, old locker and opens it, revealing an array of weapons big and small. Standing upright in the middle is a rocket launcher. Evans grabs it, murmuring, "I may as well be prepared."
Inside the Red base, Reid sits on the edge of his bed, relaxing. He cherishes this moment of peace, for he knows that it cannot last.
Rapid strolls into his room. "Hey, Reid!"
The crimson soldier sighs, but Rapid's appearance was fully expected. The rookie is like a lost puppy, always following Reid wherever he goes and being too stupid to realize that he isn't wanted. "What do you want?"
"I'm just checking on you. Whatcha broodin' about?" he asks.
"I wasn't brooding, I was enjoying some time to myself," Reid says. "What makes you think I was brooding?"
"You just looked so serious, sitting there."
"You can't even see my face."
"I don't need to see your face; I wouldn't be a Theatre major if I didn't know that body language was everything!" Rapid proclaims.
Reid shakes his head. "You get more pathetic with every word you say."
"Seriously, what were you thinking about?" the rookie asks.
"Nothing."
Rapid clicks his tongue. "'Nothing' means 'something' when you say it like that."
"No, I really wasn't thinking of anything," Reid insists. "I was relaxing when you decided to enter my room unannounced."
"I didn't enter your room unannounced," Rapid replies with mock offense. "I said 'Hey, Reid," didn't I?"
"You were already in my room when you said that."
"But I announced myself, right?"
"I'm done with this conversation, just get the fuck out of my room."
"But-"
"Go."
Rapid gives a disappointed sigh and turns to leave, but Tackle and Brenda stand in the doorway.
"Hey, guys, can you move?" Reid asks. "Rapid was just leaving."
"We have something to tell the both of you, so he might as well stay," Tackle says.
Reid groans. "Jesus Christ… fine. So, what is it? Are you two finally making it official?"
"Huh? What the hell are you talking about?!" the sergeant splutters.
Brenda steps forward. When she speaks, her voice is low. "It's not that. Shane has crossed the line. Not only did he call me a bitch two more times, but he claimed he would snap my neck if he saw me again. No one, no one, says that to me. That's my thing. He should get his own fucking thing. Tackle and I are going to kill him today. Are you in?"
Reid almost says something about her not being able to take what she herself dishes out, but stops himself. He has never seen her so angry. Not even the time that he had accidentally used one of her special 'ninja knives' to spread butter on toast. He can actually believe that she might kill Shane despite her broken arm.
"I'm in." Reid isn't actually 'in,' but he doesn't want to miss whatever is about to go down.
"What about me?" Rapid asks. "Can I go?"
Before the others can speak, Reid takes the opportunity he has been given. "No, you should stay here. We need someone to guard the base."
"Aw, really?"
"This is an important job," the crimson soldier maintains. "If no one's here, what's to stop someone from just showing up and taking the place for themselves?"
"You're right," Rapid agrees. "I'll do it!"
Reid frowns. At first he thought the rookie was choosing to ignore his snide remarks, but now he thinks Rapid may truly be oblivious.
"Good thinking, Reid," Tackle says. "Let me just quickly run that by Brenda, though. Brenda?"
"Sure, whatever," she says offhandedly. "Are we ready to go?"
"I'm ready when you are," Reid replies.
Everyone collects their weapons in preparation for the mission. Rapid stands at attention on top of the base while the other Reds gather out front. Looking up at the rookie, Reid remembers shooting him in the leg and smiles. Good times. Suddenly, something occurs to him.
Reid turns to Brenda. "Hey, when did Shane say those things to you?"
"He didn't say them, like, directly to me, but Wilson told me that's what he said," she answers.
"Wilson… is that the purple guy?"
"Yeah."
"…The enemy?"
"If Shane's talking shit, I don't care who tells me, I want to know," Brenda says.
"All I'm saying is I don't think you should be so quick to trust a Blue," Reid reasons.
"It doesn't matter," Tackle speaks up. "Shane's ass-kicking has been put off for too long."
Reid doesn't bother responding; he won't be able to get through to either of them given their enragement.
"Now, before we go, I want to make one thing absolutely clear," Brenda announces to her two teammates, her tone authoritative. "Feel free to beat Shane up and all that, but the motherfucker is mine. Got that?"
Tackle and Reid nod.
"Then let's go."
