Four – War Stories

Over at Blue Base, they'd managed to put out the fire and clean up the mess hall. However, the ice machine was strictly off-limits for Caboose. Wash had assigned him to patrol duty on top of the base, where he couldn't harm anyone. Hopefully.

Now inside the mess hall, Cal sat down at the table across from Wash, heartily feasting on an MRE. It didn't seem like he'd eaten much in his recent travels. Wherever he'd been.

"After what went down with Tex," Cal said in between bites, "I was taken off the roster. They reassigned me to Security at HQ. I was serving there until you and Maine broke in and tore everything up."

"Huh, sorry I missed you."

"Not your fault." Cal shrugged. "Actually, I turned out all right. I went into Armor Lock instead of dying. Then the authorities pulled me out, patched me up, and put me in prison. I heard you got the same treatment."

"Yeah, about that." Wash tapped his blue breastplate. "The Chairman sent me out to recapture the Epsilon unit. He thinks I'm dead. Officially, I'm Church, the leader of Blue Team."

Cal looked him over, then nodded. "Sure. Well, I won't tell anyone. But I've got my own assignment. The Director might be dead and gone, but Counselor's still out there."

"I thought he was arrested, too." Wash remembered the Counselor all too well. His calm and measured voice still haunted his dreams, right behind the Director's perpetual scowl and Epsilon's tortured memories. Just because he'd been polite didn't mean he hadn't been a coldhearted bastard like the Director. If anything, he was too good at covering up their crimes.

"He slipped away, just like the Director. I've been jumping through every place where he might hiding." Cal's palm smacked against the tabletop. "Today I was supposed to be at Sidewinder, but instead I end up here in the middle of fucking nowhere!"

"Okay, take it easy." Wash looked at his old friend, feeling a little concerned. He remembered Cal as having a temper. It was just as well that Project Freelancer failed; pairing him with an AI might not have gone well.

As he put his helmet back on, Cal's tone changed. "I can't stay for long. I have to keep up the search. Don't suppose you'd care to join me?"

Wash shook his head. "I've got a job, thanks." Then he remembered the last visitor they'd gotten at Blood Gulch. "But tell you what. I think I know someone who might be able to help you."

"Yeah? Who's that?"

Through rapid streams of gunfire, they ran. Her fist slammed down on one gunman's faceplate; his automatic weapon kept firing, now scattering his allies in the warehouse. A follow-up kick sent him flying, while her second punch to his partner dropped him to his knees. And while he fell to the ground, she was grabbing a new pair of weapons and blasting apart the field generator.

"I can do a lot worse than this," Carolina called out. She spun her plasma pistols around and looked over the warehouse interior. "Anyone else feel like not cooperating?"

At first, she got no response. Then, from behind one of the crates, a small white-armored hand waved. "Uh, don't shoot, lady! We give up!"

"Smart choice." Carolina turned as a small blue hologram appeared over her shoulder. "Find anything?"

"Better than that," Church replied. "I found everything. Shipping manifest, message logs, and a full inventory. Everything that was used in the last Insurrection fight."

"Hey, some of that was legally obtained!" the surrendering trooper called out. "I have a receipt!"

"Shut up!" Carolina holstered her pistols and began to walk with the AI toward the main exit. "How long until UNSC gets here?"

"We've got a minute to spare." Church chuckled. "I mean, obviously. This was a cakewalk compared to the last two gangs."

Carolina glanced over her shoulder. The rear entrance to the warehouse was sliding open, as gray-armored UNSC soldiers came pouring in. "You were saying?"

"Hey, I said we had a minute. Plus or minus a standard deviation."

"You're as bad as Delta."

"Worse, actually. He got that from me." Church dissolved, but his voice was still present. "Ready when you are."

Right before the authorities could call on her to stop, Carolina activated her camouflage and speed units together. She disappeared from the warehouse in a fading cyan streak.

After a short break on a rooftop two blocks away, Carolina took a moment to enjoy the sunset and her view of the UNSC rounding up the arms dealers. She loved staying in action, though it wasn't the same without her old team.

She could never forgive the Director for how he helped ruin the Freelancers. And she was slowly learning to forgive herself for the rivalry with Tex. All those hours wasted on trying to be better than her when she should have taken care of her team. York had seen it. He'd even tried to tell her, and that was the worst scar of all.

Her introspection didn't last long. Church materialized in full form beside her as her radio squawked for attention. "Well, what do ya know? It's a call from home."

Carolina accepted the call through her helmet and heard Wash's voice. "Carolina, this is Wash. Do you copy?"

"I read you, Wash. What do you need?"

"I need you and Church back here ASAP. We've got an old friend visiting."

Carolina went still. Another Freelancer? Alive? "Which friend is that, Wash?"

"It's Cal."

"California?" Church tilted his head. "Wait a minute. He was… reassigned, wasn't he? They put him to work at Command."

"It's a long story," said Wash. "Can you make it here or not?"

"We'll be there in a few hours," Carolina replied with conviction.

"Signing out."

Church looked back at the sunset. "Wow. Agent California, huh? What are the odds? Oh wait, I know. They're ten thousand, seven hundred and five to one."

"Come on, let's get moving." Carolina started to pack up her gear. "If Cal's active again, it can't be good."