Ok, so QuestBridge, schoolwork, essays, 200 pages of Invisible Man in two days, etc. I'm feeling pretty dead; forgive me if there are some egregious grammar errors somewhere in this chapter because I didn't proof it too much. Apologies for the delay; things will pick up in a couple of weeks.

Chapter 17: Shot Over

Two iron-clad flying-types flew stealthily through the crisp, cloudless night. The pair of Special Forces Skarmory were on a reconnaissance mission over Riyaq, collecting data on a set of targets that the military was interested in assaulting.

"Hey, Mike," one of them called out, only moving his beak in the process. Even the radar-deflecting suits they were deployed with were useless if either of them deliberately expanded their motionless profiles. Their wings alone had the potential to make them large blips on a radar.

The other Skarmory was scanning the ground below for the first in the list of tangos. "Yeah?"

"See any ack-ack?" he queried, cautious of the high potential of there being anti-air units embedded in the city below. Of course, he hoped to Arceus that there would be none, but he didn't feel that the god was particularly generous to Halcyian troops.

"Not a trace, Charlie. Still gotta be careful though."

Absolute silence reigned between the two steel-types for the next twenty minutes as they coasted in the clean, thin air. The Skarmory named Mike then chose to break radio silence, saying, "Our first target is down there. We have to get in close for the flyover."

"Standard operating procedure?" the other responded.

"Yeah. Alright, let's get the gear started up before we go low."

Charlie fumbled with his suit, trying to find a switch on his right breast. The button activated a high-resolution video camera on his chest, which would provide thousands upon thousands of frames for the intelligence department to pore over before making an educated tactical suggestion. The Skarmory squad could try to coast at their current level to take video, but Tamsus had a nasty way of using incredible disguises to camouflage artillery, tanks, and other military goods from spying eyes far above.

The most rational, as well as the most dangerous, counter was to deploy squads of stealthy, well-armored 'mon to swoop down and gather intelligence. Radio-controlled vehicles would undoubtedly be shot down, and would provide the enemy with much technology that would make the Halcyian Defense very uncomfortable. Hand-picked Special Forces 'mon, on the other hand, were living assets that could adapt to situations, as well as take more shots than a flimsy small electronic plane every could. All Tamsus needed to do was to lodge one bullet in a series of large vital area, such as the tail or the head of the aircraft, to down it.

Mike looked over at his partner. "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Needing no further confirmation, Mike dove downwards, hurtling towards what appeared to be an electrical power plant. Charlie followed, pressing the button to start recording what appeared under him.

The two of them spaced out evenly, holding a flight altitude of hardly fifty feet above the sand-colored rooftops they passed with great speed. Charlie saw desolate alleyways, toppled trash cans, burnt-out frames of destroyed cars, and other facets of everyday life in Riyaq as he effortlessly cut through the night air.

As the Skarmory pair closed on the concrete façade of the power plant, the more inexperienced one of the two heard a slight plink on his left wing. Since his wings were of steel construction, they could take up to .50 caliber rounds; after that, though, they would begin to fold and shatter. Charlie looked fearfully behind him, looking for a source of the shot. Mike pressed onwards, quite unaware of the attack and completely determined to accomplish the primary objective.

Then, as soon as the former was about to message his partner about the stray round, Charlie's vision was filled with a torrent of green. His yellow eyes flashed intelligently as he thought, Ambush! As he spent the single second processing this development, tracer ammunition blazed around him, some bullets hitting him harmlessly and others whizzing mere inches from his face. He knew that he would eventually run out of luck; either the small arms fire would eventually nail a vital part of his body or a Tamsus 'mon would have the sense to lug out a heavy machine gun or worse, an antiaircraft emplacement. Shouting at Mike over the cacophonous din of gunfire, Charlie hit a steep angle, flapping his wings and climbing rapidly to escape the increasingly heavy volume of lead.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other Skarmory drop like a brick, dropping flecks and shards of red steel as his wings began to fall apart. Cursing wildly, Charlie continued his ascent, knowing that there was no way in hell he would be able to retrieve his comrade's body. As the wind began to force his eyes shut, he instinctively pulled his wings in tight to his body, feeling a sizzling bolt of electricity lance the air right next to him. Suddenly far more anxious for his life than he had ever been before, the Skarmory put all of his energy into escaping the chaos below, flapping harder than he ever had in his entire life.

It appeared that Fate decided to deal him an unlucky card that night. A stray round, one in a thousand, caught up with him and slammed into the side of his face. It had lost almost all of the kinetic energy required to guide it through the tough hide of the steel-type, but the lead's remaining momentum was more than enough to disorient him. Like Mike, Charlie plummeted, unable to concentrate on the task of directing his wings to guide him out of the ambush. As he slowly regained his senses, the Skarmory realized that it was too late to save himself; he was far too close to the ground to engage in any maneuvers that would leave him unscathed. Fire and lightning danced around him, roasting his body and clipping his wings. After a brief, futile struggle against the elemental forces, he succumbed to gravity and hit the dirt with a tremendous thud, heavily scratching his well-kempt steel wings. He painfully dragged himself out of the impacted pavement of the street into a dusty alleyway, tasting blood mixed with gravel in his beak as he let his head drop on the concrete.

Charlie then grasped for his emergency communicator, an asset only to be used in the most desperate of situations. The signal the electronics gave out would undoubtedly tip off even the most ancient of radar installations of his position, but that was the least of his concerns now. Hitting one of the buttons, he whispered roughly, "Romeo Two to Alpha! Romeo Two to Alpha! Romeo One and Two are down! Requesting an extract! I repeat, requesting an-" A foot stamping on his back forced the rest of the air out of the Skarmory's lungs. He spluttered, trying to arc his neck to see what bastard was on his case.

"Hey," a gruff Fearow stated, eyeing the other flying-type contemptuously. "Want to give that to me?"

The Skarmory crushed the plastic communicator in his talons, making sure that the circuitry inside was entirely destroyed. "Fuck you," he breathed in response.

This earned him a chuckle and another press of the enemy's foot. "Well, shit. Looks like I'm not getting a raise. But you know, I'll get some extra money just for finding you in the first place, so it all evens out." the Tamsus 'mon continued. "Nighty-night."

Charlie sighed depressedly, thinking, How the hell did they know... Then, his body slumped instantly as the Fearow gave him a smart kick to the head.

SHRRK.

"No, that's not it. Try again."

SHRRRRRRRRRRRK.

"Once again." The Latios watched as Nuwai stared out at the mountains and huffed in dissatisfaction.

"Can you show me the technique?" the Gabite asked. "I don't know where I'm messing up."

Sirius picked up a fist-sized stone off the ground. "Sure. Watch carefully." As he tossed it up in the air, Sirius flashed his claws for an instant, reducing the oval shape of the rock into a perfect cube within hardly a second. The stone carving dropped with a muffled thud in the snow. "It's just one, two, three with the slashes. You have to concentrate on orienting the Dragon Claws perfectly at the correct angles. Otherwise, you'll get an imperfect shape." He gestured down towards the many, many failed attempts the other dragon made at the technique.

Nuwai picked up another rock, scowling all the more. She was wise enough to know not to question why Sirius was putting her through these drills; although hewing flawless cubes out of stone may appear to regular 'mon as simply showing off, the precise timings and angles of the cuts were signs of the ability of complete control over the direction, speed, and orientation of hand-based attacks. Such was vital for decisive blows in close quarters combat, in which the goal was to damage the enemy fast enough to retreat and regroup.

SHRRRRRK SHINK.

"Can I see that?" Sirius asked. Nuwai wordlessly handed him the pseudo-cube. He turned it over in his hands, evaluating the quality of her cuts. "Better than before, but you're still rushing it. If you do that, you'll cut other angles too early, and you don't get the sharp corners you normally would. If you rush things in combat, the enemy can see your weak spots easily and hit at them as soon as they dodge a hasty attack. The texture of the sides is also rough, but getting the corners perfect is the primary goal." The mild admonishment caused her to growl gently. She bent down to the pile of stones to pick another one up, thinking absent-mindedly of just how many she had gone through in the past hour.

As she began to throw the stone upwards, Nuwai suddenly stopped before letting it go. "Sirius?"

"Yes?" The Latios tore his gaze away from the mess halls to look at her, dearly wishing that he hadn't skipped breakfast.

"Where are the others?"

The eon dragon opened his mouth to issue a rebuke; it was hardly Special Forces norm to ask anything but pertinent questions during a training session. Then, he reminded himself that the Gabite he was training was barely a teenager, and one who depended on those who were obviously not her parents. Smiling in an attempt to comfort her, he replied, "They're doing demolition with Levina."

Her face fell. "Oh…."

"Don't worry." The Latios chuckled. "You'll learn that stuff later as well. It's pretty good that you're not a guy, at least. They piss her off a lot. Speaking of which, she must be working in a living hell right now."

"Are you sure you got the calculations right?" a livid Ampharos demanded of the Vaporeon in front of her.

Din grinned in response, only angering Levina even more. "Yes, sir."

"Did you square or cube the diameter?" She motioned towards the two boreholes drilled in the trunk of the large tree.

"Square, sir."

"In which direction will the tree fall?"

The water-type started to load the plastic explosives into one of the holes, prompting the Leafeon besides him to load the other one. "Ahead of us, sir."

Levina rolled her eyes, letting a few sparks play off her hide. "Ok, good. And for Arceus' sake, stop calling me sir. I'm probably the same age as you are."

"Yes, Sergeant Levina, sir," he responded, evoking a dark chuckle out of Jun. The Ampharos snorted, knowing that she could not officially impugn the RM 'mon for using her given title.

After the Eevee evolutions loaded up the tree with explosives and clay, all three of them edged away carefully from the tree, retreating safely behind a large rock formation far enough away from the supposedly minor blast radius. Jun rummaged in the pocket of his snow-grey fatigues for a small detonator, letting his paw hover above the unmistakable large red button. After Levina shouted "Fire in the hole!" quite a few times (her strident voice made not hearing it impossible), she nodded at the Vaporeon.

BOOM.

All three of them had to crane their necks upwards as the entire tree virtually rocketed upwards, pine needles streaming off of the branches as the explosive force below catapulted it far above where Levina demanded it to be felled. As the thud of the tree echoed through the mountains, the severely pissed electric-type wheeled on the Vaporeon. "Din?" she shrieked.

The 'mon in question made a valiant effort to suppress his laughter, but his attempt ultimately failed as he burst out into giggles. "Yes?"

"How much explosive did you pack into the boreholes?"

"I forgot." He shrugged innocently.

The Ampharos' hands crackled threateningly. "Din!"

"Ten! Ten pounds!" the Vaporeon quickly responded, not wanting to be on the receiving end of a doubly vicious Thunderbolt attack.

After a quick mental calculation, Levina dropped her jaw, searching for something to say. As words failed her, she rejoined with another question. "Ten?"

"Ten," the Vaporeon confirmed, now flushing. Both he and the electric-type knew that the amount was far more than the equation suggested.

"Ten!" she now shouted. "The calculations called for two and a half! Are you insane? I ought to fry your ass right here!" A stoic Jun watched as the Ampharos began to charge her hands with brilliant yellow electricity.

"Hold on for a sec-"

With a loud crackle, Levina let a great bolt of thunder rip from her body, arcing it at the Vaporeon. Din leaped to dodge it, but knew that the chances of him getting out of the way in time were slim.

BONG.

The cowering Vaporeon looked up to see a glass-like screen absorb the full brunt of the attack, glowing a slight yellow before disappearing. A Latias, who Din now regarded as an angelic savior, floated down from sky and shot the Ampharos a scathing glare. "Levina?" the red dragon angrily asked. "Did you just try to attack one of the RMs?"

"Did you see that tree fly up?" she defended.

Siria shook her head. "Who didn't see it? Word's getting around base as we speak. But that still doesn't give you a right to reprimand him by force. You can issue a court-martial or verbally chew him out until his ears fall off, but you cannot attack him directly. As a superior, I order you to apologize to him."

Both of them stared at the other, neither willing to budge. However, Levina could not keep up the stiff countenance, and broke down into laughter after half a minute. "Dang, Siria, it's only been one month, and you've changed this much? It's like you matured twenty years in the blink of an eye!"

The Latias couldn't help but laugh vibrantly as well, suddenly realizing how prudish she appeared. Attacking another soldier was most definitely a punishable crime, but it was a higher member's responsibility to reprimand the offending individuals in private rather than make him or her lose face in front of all of those watching. That being said, Siria understood from several years of living with Levina that the electric-type's attacks were hardly deadly and designed only to be warning shots.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "Ever since the promotion, I've been trying to live up to the rank given to me. Anyways, though, it would be in your best interest to apologize to Din. Elsewise…."

Seizing upon the hint, Levina quickly said, "Sorry, Din. I must have snapped a bit harshly there."

"No problems, no problems," the Vaporeon responded, shakily getting up. "I thought I was dead there for a moment, though. The last time something like that happened to me…." He shuddered involuntarily, reliving some memories undoubted collected in past missions.

Siria's sympathetic thoughts were cut short by a loud, energetic flapping above her. A body flanked by four leafy wings dropped downwards to their position in a controlled dive, attracting the attention of all. Talal set his feet in the snow, wiping sweat off his forehead and grinning widely. "Nothing like a nice, easy flight to start off the morning," the Tropius commented, causing the Latias to look weirdly at him. The daily course that all flying-types flew was twice as rigorous as the regular Army schedule's, and the aged 'mon didn't appear to have, in his words, a "nice, easy flight."

"Oh, Siria," he continued, turning towards her. "On my way here, an officer gave me something to give you, saying that it was urgent. I'll tell you, those Pidgeots can fly fast when they want to. He covered my distance in a fifth of the time!"

The Latias took the manila envelope from the chuckling Talal. At first she was a bit surprised that a soldier would trust a non-enlisted indigenous 'mon with official Halcyian Defense files, but then she remembered just who exactly she was talking to. As the Tropius began to converse with the other three, Siria wandered a distance away before opening the letter. She was first surprised, then apprehensive, of what the official-looking text of the message contained.

xxxxx

MEMORANDUM FOR ALPHA TEAM, SPECIAL FORCES GROUP 11

Subject: Extraction of Romeo Team Five

A reconnaissance team sent out a distress signal over location [-82.21441, -114.78516] at local time 0332, April 16th. The mission goal was to obtain intelligence regarding several classified targets. It is assumed that antiaircraft fire is responsible for the loss of Romeo Team Five. The transponder and data transmissions are no longer active. The members of Romeo Team Five are now labeled as missing in action. Further intelligence suggests that they are held as prisoners of war in an area proximal to their last known position. Several attempts have been made to extract Romeo Team Five; however, extreme ground fire and uncharacteristic Tamsus resistance have blocked successful extractions. Thus, covert extraction under night conditions is necessary.

Alpha Team of Special Forces Group 11 is tasked with the mission of extracting Romeo Team Five from this location. Intelligence on the position and structure of the area is included in this message. The mission will commence in a minimum of 24 hours. All assets are available upon request of the head of Alpha Team. Alpha Team will be inserted by transport helicopter. It is the discretion of the head of Alpha Team to choose the method of execution and exfiltration.

For the head of Alpha Team:

General A. Alem

xxxxx

Siria frowned at the loopy, ornate signature of their high-ranking commander. They were promised a weeks in training, but instead, they would only get one more day. Even more unfortunate was the fact that no one knew the particulars of the location they would have to extract the felled Skarmory squad from, meaning that all of them would have to train for every scenario possible. She sighed and scratched the back of her head, wondering how they would be able to compress all of that training into the remaining time.

"Hey, Siria," an Ampharos shouted. "What gives?"

The Latias walked back to the rest of them at Levina's call. "Well, we have a slight problem. In simple terms, we have an extraction mission in one day."

Levina took the paper and started reading it before Siria could object. "One day? Those other four are pretty valuable, you know."

"You can argue with General Alem, then. I don't think he has the time to consider the fact that we're still working on training the RMs." The dragon looked out at one of the snowy peaks, debating whether to tell Sirius of the sudden issue or not. Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by an outburst from the Ampharos, though.

"Romeo Team Five? Isn't that the one with Charlie on it?" she said in an oddly different voice. Siria blinked with recognition at the name. The Skarmory was a close friend of theirs who they always chatted with on their time off, though it could be said that he was a little more than just a friend to Levina. The Latias knew that the normally cold-hearted Ampharos had somewhat of a crush on the steel-type, and mercilessly teased her about it on multiple occasions. However, Siria wisely understood that now was not the time for such levity.

Noticeably less happy, the electric-type started to rifle through the intelligence given to them. Apparently both of the Romeo Team members were held in a large, abandoned factory by Tamsus forces. The time period now made more sense to her; through torture, it was entirely possible to gain a lot of information out of a 'mon, Special Forces or not, in a mere twenty-four hours. Only HTR 'mon were truly resistant to torture, mostly because they were conditioned to heavy interrogation through repeated drills during training.

"Levina," a voice behind her said. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, perfectly fine," the Ampharos responded briefly. "All we need to do is extract a couple of Romeo Team members, right? Nothing more than the standard mission." She hmphed and turned her head away from the inquisitive Latias so that the dragon wouldn't see her embarrassment, despite the fact that Siria could probably sense her brainwaves from a mile away.

"Anyways," Levina heard her continue, "I already called Shadrach and Sirius back here, so we'll be able to put together a basic plan and start practicing as soon as possible." She nodded limply in response.

As if having heard Siria's command, a blue figure holding another one swooped down to them. Sirius set the Gabite lightly on the ground, who quickly joined the other three RM 'mon at once. The Latios then walked up to the girls. "See, Levina? That's how you act when I fly you. She didn't have any problems with me, and certainly didn't do anything stupid, such as paralyzing my wings and spending me into a death spiral." He blinked twice as the normally witty electric-type shrugged him off and looked over at the RMs. "Oh, the silent treatment now. I see how it is." He then yelped as Siria grabbed his ear and dragged him to the side.

"Now look," the Latias snapped at her blue-faced brother, shoving the envelope into his hands. "Just shut up and read this."

"But I don't like to-"

"Just do it."

Rolling his eyes, Sirius took the official documents and pored over them, taking their words in. After a minute of sifting through the pages, he looked up. "They got Mike and Charlie? Arceus, I can understand. They were pretty good buddies; definitely ace flyers. They could put everyone but the special elements of the Air Wing to shame, though they never looked down on us for it. Pretty hard to find guys like them these days." He looked back up at his sister's eyes. "But what does that have to do with Levina?"

Siria groaned and put a hand to her face. Of course thick-headed Sirius would never have picked up on the electric-type's desires. "Look, Sirius, Levina has a little… thing for Charlie, and it would be in your best interest to quit talking to her for a while. What we need to do now is start figuring out our tactics for approaching this situation."

It appeared that the Latios hadn't listened past the first sentence, though. "Like how you had a thing for Shadrach?"

SLAP.

"Enough!" Siria fumed, glaring at her wincing brother. "Shut up and come with me. I think Shadrach's here already." She jerked a finger at an approaching black figure.

As the two siblings returned back to the others, Shadrach walked up and asked, "Siria, what happened? Is this something about Romeo Team…?" She nodded at him, causing the Umbreon to sigh. "Damn, I was really hoping the rumors weren't true. Anyways, I'm guessing that we have to do an extraction?"

"Yes. Twenty-four hours." This drew a mutter and a curse from him. "Anyways, we need the console of the RMs. They know the terrain better than we do, and they might even know the exact location of the target."

The four SF 'mon walked up to the four others, who were talking amongst themselves. Siria cleared her throat to attract their attention, leading with "We are currently assigned a mission."

"Mission?" Din asked, interrupting the Latias.

She nodded grimly. "We have twenty-four hours to rehearse and drill for an extraction in Riyaq. Do you happen to know this structure?" Taking the photos out of the envelope, she handed them out among the RMs.

Talal was the first to speak. "Hmm… so it's that place." The dragon frowned at the tone of his voice.

"Isn't that where we lost…" Nuwai trailed off.

The Tropius sighed in response, sneaking a furtive glance at Jun for a brief moment. "Yes, it is." Turning towards Siria, he continued, "Forgive our reticence on this topic. We've operated in this location before quite some time ago. It's where one of our squadmates was killed in an ambush." He continued to look over the images in front of him.

"What kind of facility is this?" Shadrach now asked, taking out a blank notepad to take notes and create a possible sketch.

"It used to be an automobile factory," the Vaporeon replied. "It was in the middle of being retooled as a weapons production facility before Tamsus took over. I think they're using it as a weapons depot now, since they moved their production facilities to a different location. Lots and lots of hiding places in there; Tamsus never really did away with the remaining machinery. Also, there're lots of windows, if you wanted to position a sniper or something. I can give you more details about it later," he assured the madly scribbling Umbreon.

"Getting inside will not be a problem, but getting back out will be very complicated," Talal added, "Especially if you have to carry POWs. I'm certain that you know this, but Tamsus often drugs prisoners to impede rescue attempts. We've created our own antidotes, but they're far from perfect, so what could be a soldier able to fight at full capacity is actually one hardly capable of autonomous movement."

"Antidote?" Sirius asked. "What kind of antidote?"

"We use berry blends. A bit of Pecha, a large amount of Persim, and some Lum as well. Ask Nuwai for specifics; she's the mixer."

The Gabite looked away at his announcement. "Isn't that true, Nuwai?" Talal pressed.

"I'd rather be known as a fighter than a barkeep," she mumbled hotly in response, suddenly far more self-conscious than before.

The Latios laughed. "Nonsense. You can do both. Just look at me!"

"Yeah, because you're such a perfect role model," his sister muttered under her breath.

"Pft. Anyways, you mix drinks, right? Have you tried a Lilycove Breeze yet? You know, one part vodka, three parts Pamtre, one part-"

SLAP.

"You don't need to corrupt her mind," Siria interjected. "I think there are more important things to focus on besides alcohol, such as, you know, this mission?"

"Killjoy."

"Shut up."

"Fine."

"Anyways," she continued, expressively rolling her eyes at him. "What we need is basic intelligence such as floor plans and maps. Hopefully you guys can give us specifics so we can make the extraction as quickly as possible."

All of the RMs' eyes wandered towards Din. "I'm the engineer here, so as I said before, I'll supply info," he said, acutely aware of the attention he garnered.

Shadrach looked at him intently. "So, then. The sooner we plan, the quicker we can get practicing. Anyways, what's the environment around the facility like? Can we designate an LZ close to it without being shot at?"

"Well, I'll need a map to write on first…."

"Sierra Two to Echo One," a familiar voice buzzed in Siria's ear. "It is a go. I repeat, it is a go."

"Move it!" Siria yelled, tapping Sirius' shoulder twice to signal that he should begin entry. Of course, in reality, a set of explosive charges would have sent a steel door flying into the face of any 'mon unfortunate enough to be standing in front of it. However, they didn't have an entire factory to practice with, so an appropriate mock-up would have to do for now. String and wooden stakes laid out on the ground hundreds of meters beyond them indicated the approximate locations of the obstacles Din had outlined.

The Latias' brother was the first in, mostly because of his ability to both attack and defend simultaneously. The others, which comprised of Jun, Levina, Nuwai, and Talal, would quickly follow, with Siria bringing up the rear as she streamed constant commentary of enemy locations. Her psychic prowess allowed her to gain knowledge of what enemies were where, so she could relay the information to her squadmembers to toss a grenade behind this obstacle or shoot at that enemy waiting to ambush them. A sniper team made up of Din and Shadrach would also provide similar support from outside, relaying any possible enemy positions that the Latias may have missed. Information was the name of the game in this exercise.

The basic plan was for Sirius to attack and neutralize any guards that may be waiting in areas too close for comfort. His adroitness at attacking made him a perfect choice; he could disable a set of enemies in a manner of seconds if everything went to plan. As he took care of them, Nuwai and Jun would space out and lay down suppressing fire on other Tamsus soldiers farther down the factory, waiting for Levina, Siria, and Talal to put down several sets of Light Screens and Sweet Scents to secure an operational space for the invading contingent and disorient other enemies. From there, the six would advance, establishing their presence and continuing to attack any enemies who presented themselves in an undesirable manner. Once the ground floor was completely secured, they would engage each of the smaller rooms in CQB fashion until they found the POWs. Extraction would take place on the roof of the facility, where a transport chopper would do a touch-and-go, picking up the ten 'mon in a matter of seconds before it could attract ground fire.

The soldiers went though the routines; Sirius shot off Dragon Pulses at targets seated in the most inopportune positions while the two RM 'mon who followed him took cover behind any obstacles possible, sending lead flying down range with well-controlled bursts. Then, as Sirius finished tearing apart and incinerating the primary paper targets, Siria set up a Light Screen in front of her, covering their entire position with a giant, rectangular invisible barrier. She let that one fall as Levina set another one up in front of hers, the electric-type sweating in concentration as she used more energy that the more adept dragon did. Talal continuously flapped flower petals down the course; although he looked quite foolish by doing so, none of the others could deny the tactical advantage it gave them.

Siria and Levina continued to switch off on setting up Light Screens, each one of theirs materializing in front of the other as the other three took shots at imaginary targets and threw training grenades, all while moving further forward. Din and Shadrach complimented the effort by giving a running commentary of enemy positions. After a few minutes of continuous advancement, the six-'mon contingent reached the white string that marked the end of the ground floor. "Clear!" Siria shouted, looking around her and finding no "targets" remaining. The other 'mon flipped their safeties on and relaxed as the Latias' announcement marked the end of the drill. They would have also done the CQB portion of the exercise for the several rooms at the far end of the factory, but that required a closed structure because of the flashbang grenades. Additionally, the previous day had all been spent on room-clearing, so they were all confident in their close quarters abilities.

The Umbreon and Vaporeon sniper pair, having pretended to have been sitting on tree ledges, walked over to the other six. "So, what problems do we still have?" Siria quickly asked the arrived Shadrach. Time was of the essence; they had spent the last two hours planning out the attack, and several more setting up the course and practicing on it. By the rate at which they were going, each would end up taking a light nap for four hours before embarking on the mission at 0100. That meant that there was only an hour left to correct any mistakes they made.

"Levina's exposing herself too much to the enemy," he quickly noted. "She needs to be taking cover at every opportunity, not just after she's set up the Light Screen. If she gets knocked while working on it, Siria's going to have to cover for her the entire way through, which isn't the best allocation of resources if you two are going to be throwing attacks out on your off-time." Nuwai's cycling through her rounds too quickly; you don't need to empty a whole magazine each time Siria or Levina puts up a Light Screen. In the real mission, you'll only be given eight thirty-round mags; make every bullet count, since there might be something hairy even after we clear everything."

"Talal's good as is in his support role; all he really needs to improve on is putting more out of that attack more quickly. Hmm… there aren't any particularly glaring problems with Jun, Sirius, or you, though I would advise that you communicate with the others on enemy positions more, Siria. You're too focused on Screening, which is something you can do without too much effort. You need to use that psychic ability more to keep them updated on positions. We snipers can't get everything that's going on inside."

Siria frowned at his analysis not because she objected, but because she knew he was right. Mentally making herself a note, she called, "Alright! We're going to try this a few more times before we quit for the day."

Charlie saw nothing but black. The solid color dominated his vision as he strained to turn his head left and right. He felt the shackles that held his arms, legs, and wings to a wall, but he could not see them before his eyes. The Skarmory unintentionally groaned, feeling far less than satisfactory as he weakly tried to shake the bonds off of him. After a minute of labored movement, he gave up, collapsing back into as much of a resting position as he possibly could. He then devoted his energy to thinking. Where am I? What is this place? How long have I been in here? Can I get away? What are they going to do to me? However, finding solutions were not a component of his thought process; there was no one to answer his questions.

Suddenly, a brilliant white light dazzled him and scrambled his mind. He looked down and shut his eyelids as his retinas burned from the intensity of the fluorescent lights above him, feeling as if an interrogator had driven a pair of hot iron spikes straight through his eyes. After a minute of coping with the new source, he looked through the slits of his eyes. The Skarmory saw that he was in a small concrete room. The walls, the floor, and the roof were all made of the same, monotonous material. The only exception was the door, which was of a cheap, dilapidated wooden construction. A single light, hanging weakly by a string attached to the ceiling, glowed cheaply in the emptiness of the room. As he panned his head sideways, he received a major shock. Mike was also shackled to the wall, having fallen victim to Tamsus just as Charlie himself did.

"Hey, M-Mike," the Skarmory rasped, noticing that he had an urgent craving for water. "Mike…." However, the other steel-type was not even roused, still stuck in unconsciousness. Or possibly even a coma, Charlie theorized. He didn't know, and he was probably never going to know.

His attention was quickly attracted to the sound of the door opening with a slow, painfully piercing creak. A Typhlosion dressed smartly in a white lab coat strolled in, looking down at the two prisoners and smirking. "So, the famed Romeo Team Five," he chuckled. "You two have no idea of how much trouble you've caused us with your recon runs. We've lost a lot because of your antics." Charlie only stared at the recently arrived fire-type, matching the enemy's crimson eyes with his own. Noticing this, the Typhlosion asked, "What is your name, Skarmory?"

"Fuck you… and your questions…" he weakly responded, eyes communicating complete defiance.

The fire-type tutted. "Now, now, that's no way to answer me. You know, under the warfare conventions this nation has so painfully impressed on this region, you're obligated to give me your name, rank, and ID number. May we have that out of you now?"

"Fuck you."

"Isn't that a shame. A soldier – no, wait, a Special Forces soldier – isn't even going to bother abiding by the rules set forth by his military. What kind of trooper does that make you?" The Typhlosion grinned at the prisoner.

"Don't… don't call me trooper, you shitbag."

"Ah. Don't worry about it, trooper. Hmm, this does cause quite a few problems though. Whatever shall we do…." The fire-type continued to muse, giving Charlie an energy boost from an unknown reservoir as he began to work against his restraints again. The Typhlosion then clapped his paws. "Oh, I know! We'll do a little work with your partner there. I think his name is Mike, Charlie." As the Skarmory froze at his name, the Tamsus 'mon swiftly strode to the other steel-type, undoing his restraints with a key and dragging him by the neck to the center of the room. He then drew a pistol from a holster on his hip, flipping on the laser and focusing a gleaming red dot on Mike's head.

"Hmm, Charlie, you trooper," the Typhlosion said, relishing the last word. "Is there anything that you'd like to tell me? Otherwise, your friend Mike here will have a relatively large amount of lead added to his diet. Not too good for his health, don't you think?"

As if suddenly hearing the fire-type's talk, the Skarmory at his feet opened his eyes slowly and focused on his partner. "Charlie…" he uttered slowly. "Don't tell him a damn thing." The other steel bird in question was in a complete panic, though. Should he tell the details of their reconnaissance mission to keep Mike alive? Or should he keep his beak shut and be responsible for Mike's death?

"All you have to do is tell me, Charlie, and I'll set you two free," the Tamsus 'mon offered.

"Don't listen to him. He's just going to kill… me, then you after the fact. Don't give him anything, Charlie. Keep quiet."

He grimaced and shouted as the Typhlosion kicked him in the head. "Now, now, enough from the peanut gallery. Charlie, you have to choose. In five seconds I'm going to put a nine millimeter FMJ round in his head, and by the looks of it, I don't think he can dodge. Five," he began.

Charlie sat paralyzed, sweating fiercely as his eyes darted from the menacing figure towering above the both of them down to his best friend.

"Four."

All the Skarmory wanted to do was leave. He didn't care if he left dead or alive; all he wanted to do was be gone.

"Three."

"Remem… remember. Don't ever… tell…" Mike encouraged.

"Two."

The voice of the Typhlosion hypnotized Charlie even more, causing the steel-type shake in head in utter frustration. What the hell should I do? What the HELL should I do?

"One."

Life or death. Life or death. Life or death. Charlie bit down on his tongue just to prevent himself from yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Zero."

"Alright! ALRIGHT!" the Skarmory screamed. "I'll tell-"

BANG.

Charlie instinctively closed his eyes as the blood and brain matter of his former friend splashed onto his dirty fatigues. The clear clink of a bullet shell told the steel-type the whole story.

"Well, well," the Typhlosion commented with a sadistic grin, looking down at the corpse's deformed head. Grayish material, streaked with a sickly red, flowed from Mike's body and stained itself on the concrete floor. "Looks like you were a little late there, weren't you, trooper?" He emotionlessly kicked the head, spraying Charlie with more of the Skarmory's internal organs.

The steel-type didn't even notice the flesh strike his face. All he saw was red, a hazy crimson red that colored everything in his vision as his face contorted into a fierce expression he previously thought impossible of himself.

"Oh, are you angry?" The Tamsus insurgent laughed. "Do you want to kill me? Good. Become angry. Hate me. Hate me with all of your heart! Kill me!"

As if heeding his command, Charlie roared and lifted his entire body off the unforgiving concrete ground, snapping the chains that bound him to the walls with brutal force. All he cared about was destroying the Typhlosion that stood in him, the 'mon that took his best friend from him. The Skarmory powered his wings up, going in for a kill with a Steel Wing. They glinted dangerously as they approached the fire-type's neck.

The next thing he felt was an intense flame scoring his entire body. I'm on fire, he recognized without alarm as the fire-type mercilessly scorched the entire room with a Flamethrower attack. The Skarmory stumbled and fell, wings and body melting from the incredible heat the Typhlosion subjected him to. Charlie couldn't care, though; if anything, he had died trying his best instead of surrendering. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would be soon put out of his misery. However, the Flamethrower that had marred his entire body a charcoal black suddenly dissipated in a wave of heat. He coughed, tasting some bloody flesh pass out of his beak as his lungs began to disintegrate from within him.

The Typhlosion leaned over his charred body, now poised with a syringe in his paw. The liquid within swirled an opaque black. "Hmm. So close to dying, weren't you? I stopped just in time, though. Aren't I lucky?" The Skarmory materialized no answer. He simply laid there, absolute and overwhelming pain the only thing running through his mind.

Searching for a body part that resembled a neck, the fire-type looked at it oddly for a second before plunging the needle in the incredibly softened steel and pushing the plunger down, forcing the liquid out of the glass container and into Charlie's bloodstream. The tyrannical fire-type chuckled darkly, letting a knowing smile cross his face.

"You'll be wishing you were dead very soon."