Chapter 17
With a sopping thud, Bella drops her tactical vest on the tile in front of her locker. She wrings out the bottom of her shirt, the lukewarm water seeping through her fingers. Her head pulses. Her heart pounds. Anger. Frustration. Keeping her eyes closed, she focuses on the pain of her teeth pressing down on the inside of her lip.
Jacob opens his locker and sits, covering his face with his hands. Heavy breaths hiss through his fingers. After a moment, he unclips his vest and tosses it into the locker. It hits against the metal with a weak bang that briefly fills the room. He hangs his head.
"Sorry guys," he says, quietly.
Bella holds her breath. She, the team, hates failure. The sensation is magnified when they have no chance to succeed.
"Don't worry about it," she says. Fatigued, opening her eyes hurts.
Jacob shakes his head but says nothing.
"Carlisle set a new standard," Emmett says. He wraps a towel around his waist and closes his locker. Specks of wet polymyth dot his still wet skin. There's plenty to be angry about, but nothing he can fix. He can take a shower. He disappears around the corner and turns on the water. Artificial warmth spreads into the small room.
It takes the last of Bella's energy to remain calm. She lets down her hair, wet tendrils hiding her face. Polymyth collects into her hands as she runs her fingers through her dark hair. Wiping it off on her pants leg, she sits next to Jacob in silence.
The squeak of the door accompanies Colonel Cullen and Edward as they enter in silence. The Colonel stands with his hands deep in his pockets, narrow eyes and bored frown. Edward stands behind him, shoulders forward.
Bella looks up, past the Colonel, and meets Edward's eyes. She forces a smile through her frustration. Edward looks down.
"Gamma," the Colonel says, finally.
"Sir." Bella looks away as she says it. She opens her locker noisily and grabs a towel. Her fingers press painfully into her scalp as she dries her hair.
The rushing water from the shower fills the tense quiet.
"We will conduct a review of the training scenario this afternoon," Colonel Cullen says through pursed lips.
Bella stops drying, allowing the towel to hide the fury in her face. She takes a breath. Her jaw tightens. Pulling the towel off her head, she tosses it into her locker before forcibly shutting the door. Lightning fills her fingertips as her rage builds.
Shut up, she thinks.
"There are definitive things that could be improved after that display with the isleman," the Colonel adds, filling the silence.
Bella can't stand it. Her fist rushes forward. The Colonel's audacity. She connects with the hard metal door. His matter-of-fact voice. Fire fills her knuckles. His disrespect for the team. The fire races up her forearm. His disrespect for Edward. She exhales through her teeth. His disrespect for her.
"Is there something concerning you, Agent Eliz?" the Colonel asks as the reverberation ends.
The imprint of her fist sinks deep in to the metal, pulling the top of the door down as the locker looks to collapse on itself. Bella swallows. She smiles at Jacob before meeting Carlisle's steady gaze.
"What would you suggest, Colonel?" Bella asks, dryly. "You know Gamma doesn't specialize in water missions."
Colonel Cullen attempts to speak but Bella continues.
"By all appearances, we were expected to fail." She keeps her lips tight, her gaze steady. "A completely wrong intelligence briefing for our team leader. A scenario that hasn't been used in thirty years because it has never been beaten. A creature so durable that only pollution led to their extinction."
"She has a point," Emmett says, exiting the shower. Like an objective observer he stands off to the side, allowing the water to drip off him.
"I speak for the team when I ask for your suggestions," Bella adds. "I think it would be much more effective to hear them now, while the training is still fresh in our minds."
The Colonel turns to the mute Edward, who has not spoken since leaving Observation. The look on Alice's face is seared into his mind. He doesn't want to discuss the personal victory, his success in the training. Not with animosity coating the locker room like a moldy film. Later, but not now.
Colonel Cullen looks back at Bella, lifting his chin slightly.
"I believe your ill-temper is misguided," the Colonel says.
"With your knowledge and experience, that would be entirely possible." There's a charged sting in Bella's voice, her frustration thinly veiled by decorum.
"Our review of the scenario is to discuss details, not the overall outcome," Colonel Cullen says. "I see no reason to discuss that."
"Of course not," she says, ignoring the throbbing in her knuckles.
"You're behaving as if the team failed the training," the Colonel says.
His voice catches Bella off guard. She looks down at her hand, her knuckles indistinguishable under the rapid swelling. She holds it up.
"Emmett?"
Wearing pants now, Emmett casually walks over. His eyes turn black while he fixes her broken hand.
Jacob sits up straight, professional and uncomfortable.
"Sir," Jacob says, "Are you saying we didn't fail?"
"Captain Masen led the team successfully," the Colonel says. "Yes."
Brow furrowed, Jacob shakes his head.
"How?" he asks. The question rings in the tiny room.
"I'll tell you later," Emmett says. He exhales heavily as he finishes healing Bella's hand. The blackness fades from his eyes as he meets Edward's gaze, a quiet understanding on his face. He walks back to his locker.
Stretching her fingers as she stands, Bella approaches the Colonel. She knows exactly how Edward did it, and instead of anger at sacrificing Jacob she feels sadness. Nausea turns her stomach, knowing Edward's feelings about the Kill Switch, knowing his back was completely against the wall. She reaches behind the two men and opens the door.
"Thank you, sir," she frigidly says to the Colonel. "We will be at the review."
Colonel Cullen nods and exits. Edward turns to follow, stopping as Bella places a hand on his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"Yeah," he whispers back. He smiles, his eyes bright and sad. "Me too."
He exits the locker room and quickly catches up with the Colonel. They walk in silence until they reach the main corridor.
"You did very well," Carlisle says, his stoic voice ringing down the empty hall.
"Thank you, sir." The praise feels unearned, the gratitude hollow. Edward stops walking at the entrance to the Library. "Colonel?"
"Yes?"
"Would the Kill Switch have actually killed the isleman?" Bella's comment about the impossibility of the scenario eats at the base of Edward's skull. To her there was no solution. But his success, the loss of Jacob, and the Colonel's words imply otherwise.
"You made the best decision," Carlisle says, "For the best possible reason."
The weight in Edward's stomach disputes the statement. The loss of any team member is a failure, regardless of expendability. He tugs at his jacket.
"Is there anything else you need from me?" Edward asks.
"Not right now," the Colonel says. "Make sure you're at the scenario review."
"Yes, sir," Edward replies as Colonel Cullen walks away. Uncertainty weighing on his neck, Edward presses his hand against the sensor embedded in the wall, opening the door to the Library.
Alice's head pops up from the open binder, the light coming in from the hall illuminating her red eyes and worn face.
"Excuse me, sir," she says, seeing Edward.
"Don't," he says, waving his hand dismissively as he sits across from her. Formality is not what he needs. "Please." He rubs his hands hard against his face, pressing his palms against his eyes. "You okay?"
Alice's lips twitch and she stares back at the page in front of her. The muddy, black and white image of an isleman accompanies the writing. She flips the page, revealing more information and a series of autopsy photos in what looks like a warehouse.
"Yeah," she finally says.
"Is that the isleman profile?" Edward asks, knowing the answer.
"I'm trying to figure out how to defeat them." She doesn't look up.
"That's what I was going to do." Edward keeps his voice quiet. "Mind if I help?"
Shaking her head, Alice slides the book away from her.
"I'm sorry," she finally says, her voice cracking.
"For what?"
"I let you down." She forces her eyes to meet Edward's. Her shoulders shift as she fiddles her fingers in her lap. "I let Jacob down. I didn't prepare you for everything."
"Alice," Edward interjects, his voice airy with understanding, "Those things are extinct, and have been for decades. It wasn't your job to prepare me for that."
"Why did you do it?" Alice asks, quiet but surprisingly forceful. She looks up with a furrowed brow. "I know it was training, but why?"
"I'm not really sure," Edward says. In the mental exhaustion wearing against his mind, he forgot it was instinct that gave him the solution. "I've gotten so use to only caring about the mission... I think once Jacob was inside the thing he... He became a casualty to me."
Alice bites her lip and lowers her eyes.
"He was lost," Edward adds, finally understanding the decision himself, "But was still a bomb. I had to protect the rest of the team."
"It just sucks," she says. "I worry about Jacob all the time, but..." her voice trails.
Edward tightens his lips. Such close relationships between team members aren't uncommon outside Lilim, but they're rare enough that Edward has never encountered one directly. Empathetic and unsure, he pulls the isleman profile over.
They sit in silence, Alice watching the Captain review the information. Most of what the profile says Edward anticipated from seeing the creature. It's a deep-sea creature, rarely seen, capable of withstanding immense external pressure. No known weaknesses.
He pushes the binder away and crosses his arms tight against his chest. The grind of his molars shake his jaw. His victory is conjecture. The sacrifice of Jacob potentially needless. He presses his thumbnail into his fingertip, focusing on the pain.
"It was just training," Alice says, an uncertain conviction in her voice.
"Yeah," Edward says. The moment replays in his mind: the rush of rain, the waves, Jacob futilely trying to escape, the monster's closed mouth, Alice's fear, the sound of his own voice. The words sicken him – 'Kill Switch Protocol' – how easily he said it.
Watching Alice, Edward sees her compassion, her concern, her willingness to protect. He thinks of Bella. He thinks of Emmett, riding the behemoth. And he thinks of Colonel Cullen. The distance. The impenetrable stoicism.
"I'll make you a promise, Alice." He doesn't look at her. His heart pounds.
"Yes?"
"I won't use the kill switch." His piercing eyes meet hers.
"Edward, don't. You might -"
"I won't use the kill switch," he repeats, interrupting her. A calm comes over him as repeats the decision. "This is my team. I promise."
Eyes down, hands tight, Alice can't help the demur smile appearing across her face.
"Yes, sir."