A/N: Well then. This one kind of got away from me.
One more chapter to go!
10. Papercut
Sam had no fond memories of Char. Every time she recalled her experience there, a sliver of glass pressed deeper into her heart. Delta travelled there right after Dom had sacrificed himself so they could get out of Mercy alive. Desperation had brought them to Aaron Griffin's tower, and with emotions still raw they had confronted the Stranded leader. After fighting their way through hordes of Lambent and Locust, Griffin had raged about how they brought death and destruction everywhere they went. That one had hit a little too close to home, and if Marcus hadn't finally lost it with Griffin, Sam probably would have decked him.
Looked like she'd get that chance after all.
Getting her armour on had been easier than anticipated, mostly because she pushed right past the pain. As she walked towards the vehicle compound, the weight of her chest piece began to chafe her shoulder. But she gritted her teeth and picked up the pace. Like hell was some stupid aching pain going to stop her.
Outside, a Centaur had been driven out just in front of the main gates. Marcus, Anya, Cole and Jace were standing around it; even from a fair distance, Sam could see that Marcus and Cole were having an intense discussion. As she approached, Marcus caught sight of her. An exasperated expression passed over his face.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, standing beside Anya.
"I was just explaining to Cole why he can't come," Marcus said, giving Cole a pointed look. "Sam, you're staying too."
Years of being told what she could and couldn't do hadn't improved Sam's tolerance. Colour flooded into her face as her lip curled up in a grimace. She never should have let Marcus see her arm in a sling.
"I grew up here, I know this area. You need me."
"This isn't a debate."
Before she could open her mouth and say something she'd probably regret, Cole stepped in.
"Marcus, my man…" Cole's tone was remarkably serene for a man who was being told to sit on his ass while God only knew what was happening to his best friend. "I know you remember that time in Jilane when that Mauler punched you in the face. You were hurt real bad, but you still tried to lead us out of there. No way in hell are we sitting this one out."
Sam could have kissed Cole for including her in that statement. Marcus still looked torn, battling his overprotective nature. The sound of approaching footsteps snapped him out of his internal debate. Hoffman and Bernie were coming towards them, half dragging Rennoll between them.
"You sure about this, Fenix?" Hoffman asked.
"This arsehole sounds like a real piece of work," Bernie agreed. "Are you sure he'll even agree to a hostage exchange?"
"I'm not," Marcus admitted. "But we don't have a choice. A direct assault is too risky, and takes away too much manpower from the fort. I wouldn't be surprised if this was a set-up to distract us from something."
Bernie still didn't look enthusiastic about the plan, but she nodded anyway. "Right. According to our friend here, Griffin's holed up in an abandoned mining town about thirty klicks east of here. He can provide more accurate directions."
"We'll be back as soon as we can."
As they all began climbing into the Centaur, Bernie grabbed Marcus' shoulder. "Hey… bring Blondie back safe."
Sam took a seat beside Jace, and as far away from Rennoll as she could manage. She didn't entirely trust herself around him. One smart comment and she might very well break his jaw. Somehow, she didn't think Marcus would appreciate that. Cole was left sitting beside the hostage, fixing him with a severe stare. It was going to be a long and uncomfortable ride.
Inside the Centaur, the atmosphere was edgy. No one spoke, other than Rennoll who occasionally gave directions. Marcus had the tank going as fast it could, but the ride still seemed to take ages. Gradually, the trees began to thin, evidence of a long-dead logging industry.
Truth be told, Sam had never been this far east. Sheraya had been an overprotective mother, and Sam's childhood hadn't included as much exploring as she'd liked. One time, in her early teens, she had managed to slip the walls with a couple friends. They'd planned on a camp-out overnight; sleeping bags and snacks were smuggled out as well. The sun had barely even set before a search party—led, embarrassingly enough, by Sheraya—found them. That was the night Sam decided she'd enlist. That night saved her life.
Suddenly, Rennoll lurched forward. Sam thought he was going to vomit and jerked away, but he began pointing manically. "There! Just up ahead."
Sure enough, around the next corner, a decrepit building came into view. More appeared out of the trees: bunk houses for the miners, a mess hall, a smelter—all crumbling into ruin. It was quite sad, to see a place that had once been so full of life, falling into nothing. Nature was slowly reclaiming its lost ground, now that no one was left to maintain this long-forgotten industry.
As the Centaur rolled through the remains, people slowly emerged from the buildings. All of them were Stranded, but Sam could plainly see that barely half of them were native to the area. Kashkur wasn't a country known for its easy living, so something else had to be drawing the Tyran Stranded here. That didn't bode well for Anvil Gate.
"Stop right up there." Rennoll indicated a decaying structure up ahead. Two men stood on either side of the entrance, armed with Hammerbursts.
Marcus brought the tank to a stop a few meters shy of the building. Both of the guards raised their guns as the door to the Centaur opened.
"Be careful," Anya warned.
"If we wanted to kill them, we would have blasted this place already," Marcus said. "They know that."
Cole didn't look convinced. "Let's send our buddy out first, just in case."
Marcus hesitated for a second, but nodded. Cole grabbed Rennoll by the shoulder and shoved him bodily from the tank. The hostage tripped over his own feet and face-planted into the dirt. That gave Sam a small amount of satisfaction. She, Cole and Jace hopped out next. When Marcus climbed out, the two Stranded guards exchanged a look. An uneasy feeling was growing in Sam's gut. She wondered if those two were from Char. They certainly weren't Kashkuri.
Rennoll trundled up to the guards, talking in a tone too low to hear, complete with erratic gestures. Whatever he said seemed to work, as the men lowered their weapons—slightly—and nodded at Marcus.
"I don't like this," Sam murmured to Cole as they made their way into the building.
"Neither do I," Cole agreed. "But we don't got much choice."
They were taken through a series of dusty hallways by the two guards, with Rennoll getting antsier by the second. After a particular spasm of movement, Cole and Sam glanced at each other. The prospect of meeting Griffin seemed to have spooked this kid. Aaron Griffin hadn't been the most amicable of people, but Sam had never seen this kind of fear inspired in his followers in Char.
There was a stab of pain as she was reminded of Dom again, but Sam pushed it aside. Right now, she needed to stay focused. Something wasn't right here.
Finally, the party reached a rather ominous-looking door. The escorts pushed Rennoll inside the room first, and then waited for the Gears to enter. Both guards followed them in, and stayed put, effectively blocking the exit. Sam ran through her reaction time, how long it would take her to draw and fire her Snub if she needed to. Then she turned her attention to the center of the room.
Her heart leapt up into her throat.
There was no question who the figure standing with his back to them was: Aaron Griffin, formerly the Stranded leader of Char. While the sight of him did bring back unpleasant memories, Griffin wasn't what made Sam steel herself. Beside him, lashed to an old chair, was Baird, his armour gone. As she got a better look at his face, Sam made a concentrated effort to hide any emotions.
His lip was split and puffy, blood caked in the corner of his mouth. He looked like he'd taken a couple punches to the face: bruises were beginning to show, and his right eye was blackened and almost swollen shut. Hatred welled up inside Sam. She was betting that more than half those injuries hadn't occurred during his capture. The Stranded had no goddamn honour. They hadn't treated Rennoll like that, even if he was complete scum.
When Baird heard the movement as the Gears entered, he raised his head. "Nice of you to finally show up," he said, his voice hoarse.
When he caught sight of Sam, something—confusion, maybe annoyance—flickered across his face. She could practically hear him thinking, What the hell are you doing here?
Saving your life, you asshat.
Sam could see Cole in her peripheral vision. There was no trace of his normally playful, laid-back demeanour; the man beside her was all tension. His body was completely locked up. She could barely even detect the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. He was all stress and subdued fury, muscles rigid as stone. His jaw was clenched so tightly that Sam worried he might crack his teeth. His eyes, always kind and full of mirth, were hard and cold as they seared into Griffin's skull. This was Augustus Cole on the edge of losing his shit. Sam found it almost as alarming as Marcus' sudden outbursts of rage.
Griffin turned around. Clearly, he'd been expecting them. There wasn't even the tiniest hint of surprise on his face as his eyes locked onto Marcus.
"Fenix. I told you this wasn't over." He glanced over the rest of them. "Looks like I organized a fucking reunion. But you—you're new." He pointed at Cole. "Number 83, the Cole Train, hmm? I heard you joined up. Doesn't really matter; I was always a Sharks man myself."
Baird groaned loudly. "That's it, I'm switching teams."
Griffin backhanded Baird so casually, so gracefully, that it took Sam a second to realize what had happened. Baird simply shook his head and took a few long blinks; he looked dazed for a couple seconds before recovering his composure. Cole took a calming breath. "I'm gonna ask you not to do that again."
At that, Griffin raised his eyebrows slightly. "Don't tell me this little shit is a friend of yours."
And then Marcus bulldozed into the conversation. "We're just here to trade hostages. Then we never have to see each other again."
Griffin ignored the sergeant, instead turning to Rennoll. "You stupid motherfucker. It hasn't even been three hours. You were supposed to stall them for six. Can't you do anything right?"
Rennoll stumbled towards his boss, hands raised like a gun was pointing at him. "I'm sorry. I did… I did my…"
Sam didn't see it coming. When their hostage was close enough, Griffin suddenly lashed out at him. One punch knocked Rennoll to the ground, where he curled into a ball in an attempt to protect himself. The pathetic posture didn't deter Griffin; he kicked the boy savagely, driving his boot into Rennoll's stomach and ribs.
The sight made Sam sick. She was no fan of Rennoll, but no one deserved this brutality. Part of her wanted to speak up and stop the beating, but this was Griffin's territory. If they got too pushy, if he felt threatened or even annoyed… Sam was betting that there were a lot more armed Stranded than just the two by the door.
She thought that Marcus might stop it, but he simply watched silently. His face was a mask, betraying neither revulsion nor anger. Before Dom died, Marcus would have stepped in. His undying sense of honour and fair play would have never allowed him to stand by and watch. But things had changed when Dom sacrificed himself. Now, Delta was the top priority. Maybe it incensed him, disgusted him, but all that mattered now was making sure Delta Squad came out of this intact.
Her eyes flicked to Baird. He was being uncharacteristically quiet, doing his best not to look at Rennoll.
Griffin seemed to lose interest in beating his subordinate. He gave Rennoll one last kick, and then turned his back on him. "So," he began casually, as if nothing had happened. "You're here to exchange prisoners? You think it's that easy? That I hauled myself out into this fucking piece of shit wilderness so I could mildly inconvenience you?"
Sam bristled. True, she had always said that Anvegad was the ass-end of the world, but it was with good-natured nostalgia. Nobody else was allowed to bash her hometown.
"No." Marcus' voice was a low growl. "But I'm giving you one last chance to walk away. Don't be an idiot."
Griffin shook his head, a slow smile appearing on his face. "You're the idiot here, Fenix. There's only one way to deal with an enemy, and I'm not the only COG hater on Sera. You pissed off a lot of people, before you ever killed my people. My partner, Lyle Ollivar, agrees with me on that one."
Damn it. At least that explained how well supplied Griffin's men were. Sam's hands curled into fists. Their truce with Ollivar had only been temporary, until the Lambent and the Locust were taken care of, but she had kind of hoped the old rivalry wouldn't be rekindled. Maybe she really was as stupid as Griffin insisted she was.
"Walk away, Griffin." Marcus was losing what little patience he had left.
"I set this up, Fenix. You're here because I wanted you to be here."
"So what exactly do you want from us?" Anya asked.
"As I've already explained to your friend here—" Griffin made a swipe at Baird's head; it was a fake-out, but Baird still flinched away—"it all boils down to revenge. You not only destroyed my tower and killed my people, but you took away what chance I had to rebuild. Imulsion's completely gone, and I can't make an empire out of nothing."
"Yeah," Baird muttered, "and imulsion was also turning everyone into rabid zombies."
Griffin elected to ignore him. "But you COG, you're up and running again. Faster than I thought you would be. Got the old oil refineries working. The biggest, closest refinery happens to be in Helvekad."
Sam almost couldn't believe it. That's what this was all over? Fucking fuel? Then again, she shouldn't really be surprised. The COG and the UIR fought for almost eighty years over imulsion fields.
"I knew I couldn't just take the refinery. It's too close to Anvil Gate. COG would be swarming the place in hours, and I don't have the manpower to hold you off for long. And I couldn't assault the base head-on. Again, not enough people. Besides, I hear this Colonel Hoffman really knows how to handle sieges."
"Really?" Baird glared up at him. "The mortar strikes could have fooled me."
This time, Griffin didn't miss. The sound made Sam wince. Baird spat out a glob of bloody saliva.
"Testing response times, weakening your defences. I wasn't worried about you assholes rebuilding; I could have waited a year and it wouldn't have made a difference."
Sam knew he was right. Anvil Gate's limited resources had barely made a dent in the repairs; from the Lambent Berserker attack to the recent mortars, its fortifications were in poor shape.
"I suppose I could have attacked earlier, but that one's on me. I wanted to lure you out." Griffin stared directly at Marcus. "I knew if I went after your buddies, you'd show up. You were out there somewhere. Not at Anvil Gate, or Port Farrall. No, you've got some other base, one my contacts can't find. So I had to set a trap. And here you are."
"Here I am." Marcus agreed. "What happens now?"
Griffin sneered. "Now I make you watch. While you're in here, I've got an entire convoy going after the fort. Ollivar's shipments really helped set us up. But don't worry about that, you won't be going back there to see the aftermath." He drew his Boltok and pressed the muzzle to the back of Baird's head. "No, you're going to watch as I blow your friend's brains all over the floor, and then—"
It was a split-second decision, one that Sam didn't even realize she'd made until she felt the kick-back of her own pistol. The bullet caught Griffin high in the chest. He looked completely shocked, like he couldn't believe it was happening, and then crumpled to the floor.
All the training in basic gave the Gears the advantage. While the two Stranded guards gaped at their fallen leader, Anya and Jace spun around without a second's hesitation. Two quick bursts of gunfire, and the guards joined Griffin on the floor.
Sam and Cole rushed forward as Anya, Jace and Marcus did a quick sweep outside the door. Baird looked like he had just pissed his pants, but when Sam dropped to her knees to untie his ankles he found his voice.
"What the hell was that?"
A strange giddy feeling was starting to wash over her. She must have been more stressed than she realized. She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or to yell. "I think I just saved your life, but I might be mistaken."
"He could have killed me. Shit, I think you deafened me. How about a little warning next time?"
"Of course! The next time you get kidnapped and held hostage by some psycho, I'll just say, 'Excuse me, sir, but I'm about to shoot you. Could you please cover my friend's ears? Much appreciated.'"
Cole, who had freed Baird's wrists, snorted. "She does have a point.
"Yeah, whatever."
Baird got to his feet, rubbing feeling back into his numbed hands. Sam was half-thinking of hugging him—or maybe slapping him—when he suddenly cringed, and wrapped his arms around his chest.
Marcus re-entered the room at that exact moment. "What happened?"
"I think I broke a rib." Baird flinched again. "Or all of them."
Anya reappeared. "There's no one out there. They must all have gone with the convoy just after we arrived. We need to warn Hoffman. He won't be ready for a full-scale attack."
Marcus pressed a finger to his ear. "Fenix to Hoffman, do you copy?" He waited, but there was no response. "Fenix to Anvil Gate, is anyone receiving?" Still nothing.
"They must be jamming our comms," Anya said.
"Then we need to take out that convoy. Let's go."
Sam walked towards the exit, Cole and Baird trailing behind her. She would be glad to see the last of this place, and finally deal with the threat that had been hovering over her for weeks. Griffin was gone; surely his Stranded wouldn't last too long once they realized they were on their own.
Without warning, something slammed into her back, sending her stumbling forward. Before she could really comprehend what had happened, a single gunshot rang out. Her stomach dropped. It took her an eternity to spin around.
Baird was behind her, his back facing her. For one glorious second, she thought the bullet had missed. But then he slowly folded in on himself, sinking to his knees. Over his shoulder, Sam saw Aaron Griffin. His arm was shaking from the effort it took to hold up the Boltok.
No, you're dead. I killed you.
He flashed her a bloody smile. "For you, bitch…"
Sam's hand flew to her holstered Snub, but before she could even draw it, two bursts of red exploded from Griffin's chest. His eyes rolled back in his head; his arm fell limp to the ground. Sam turned, and saw Marcus beside her. He was dead calm, but there was something unnerving about the way he stared at Griffin's body.
Baird.
Sam and Cole both went to Baird's side. He was kneeling on the ground, clutching his abdomen, face screwed up in agony. As Sam got a better look, ice poured into her veins. The bullet had caught him in the gut. All knowledge of anatomy deserted her as she started at the red spreading beneath his fingers. A gut wound. Those were bad, messy, prone to infection if they didn't act fast.
"What the hell did you do?" Sam asked, her voice tight and high.
Baird's body shivered in a truncated chuckle. "I think I just saved your life. Again." He winced, bent forward a little more.
"Hayman will sort you out," Cole said encouragingly, though his face didn't match his tone. "We need to get back to the fort."
"The… Stranded." Baird squeezed his eyes shut briefly. He was trying, and failing, to hide how much pain he was in.
Shit.
"He's right," Anya said. "We can't contact anyone at Anvil Gate. If we don't warn them…"
There would be casualties. A lot. The walls of the fort were no longer impregnable. Even if the small garrison could hold off the Stranded assault, there would be a lot of people injured. The infirmary would be over capacity, the patients triaged from most likely to least likely to survive. Sam didn't even want to think where Baird would fall on that list.
"Anya," Marcus said quietly. "You can't expect me to…"
Baird attempted to rise, but doubled over. Cole grabbed his shoulder to steady him. "You know she's right."
Sam couldn't believe her ears. Where was his famous selfishness, the desire to put his life above everyone else's? He was actually agreeing with the decision that would put his life at risk.
"There's medical supplies in the Centaur," Anya added.
"Are you sure about this?" Cole asked.
"No." Baird laughed weakly. "Let's go."
Cole and Jace helped Baird to his feet. On the way up, he lurched forward with a cry of anguish. Sam followed them as they made for the Centaur, feeling completely useless. It was happening again. She was on the verge of losing someone she cared about. With Dom, it had been sudden. He was gone before she had time to process it. One second she was fighting for her life, and then Dom was barrelling down the tunnel in the tanker. All the processing came later.
But now? She couldn't just watch Baird slip away. Not after he'd taken a bullet for her. Not after everything that had happened. Her fists clenched. This would not happen. She wouldn't let him die. He was obstinate, and so was she. Between them, there had to be enough stubbornness to get him back to Anvil Gate.