Twelve – Until Next Time

A pair of Hornets soared overhead as the UNSC task force went about securing Blood Gulch. It was a familiar sight after the mayhem with the Meta at Sidewinder: gray soldiers clearing away the deceased, cataloging every shot fired, and confiscating any weapons and equipment that the Reds and Blues hadn't discreetly stolen away.

The team commander, Captain Jones, stood outside Blue Base, looking over the motley crew stationed in the canyon. They were trading jokes and insults like good friends—or very bad ones, in his opinion.

"Well, I'd say this about wraps it up for the Freelancers," said Jones. "We've accounted for them all, either dead or in custody."

He and the Blue Team leader were watching four soldiers escort a wounded Agent California into the back of a Warthog. They'd slapped him in handcuffs and stripped him of all weapons and armor enhancements. He hadn't said a word since the end of the firefight.

"But I've got to say, you guys sure know how to handle yourselves under fire." Jones turned and offered the Blue leader his hand. "It's a pleasure to work with you, uh, Captain…"

"Actually, it's Private." The blue-and-yellow soldier shook his hand. "Private Church. And you're welcome."

"Right. Private Church." Jones thought he'd heard that voice somewhere before. He remembered a certain prisoner he'd overseen back when he'd been a senior guard at the UNSC Maximum Security Detention Facility. But that Freelancer had gotten himself killed on a mission for the Chairman, tangling with Agent Tex and the Meta.

He figured he was just imagining things.

"I don't suppose we can keep the interference field?" asked Private Church. "Just for protection against other intruders?"

"Sorry, that's UNSC property now. And who else were you expecting to show up?"

The private turned away. "You'd be surprised at the kind of attention we seem to attract."

From her vantage point on the hillside, camouflaged against the snow, Carolina watched the UNSC raid on the Sidewinder base very closely. She couldn't bring herself to move, as if afraid that a single twitch might spoil the moment. Even Church was unusually quiet.

It took about five minutes for the raid to end. When it did, they watched as the authorities came out from the base, with the Counselor in custody.

He'd gone gray since the last time Carolina had seen him, so many years ago. And he seemed weary now. That calm face he'd put up for so many years had cracked ever so slightly at last. He looked, as Church would say, fucking pissed off.

It wasn't until they saw the troops escorting the Counselor into their Hornet that Church finally spoke up. "You know, I'm actually kind of glad we didn't have to do this one ourselves. I don't think I could have handled another face-to-face after what happened with the Director."

"What's the matter?" Carolina asked. "Afraid you'll get emotional?"

"If by 'emotional,' you mean 'filled with a burning righteous anger,' then yes, I suppose I do."

"At least the UNSC could take care of it themselves." Carolina smiled inside her helmet. "And all it took was an anonymous tip."

"Speaking of which, what's next for us? The Counselor's the last of the big ones to round up."

Carolina waited until the Hornet took off, quickly fading into the wintry sky. Then she turned off her camouflage and began to walk down to the surface. Around one snowy bend was her Mongoose, primed and ready to go.

"I suppose," she said, "that we'll go back to what we were doing before. Taking down military tech gangs one by one. Reclaiming what they stole and setting right everything we did wrong before."

"Not to mention," Church added, "We've got a crew in Blood Gulch to look after every now and then."

"Right." Carolina hopped onto her Mongoose and revved the engine. "So, back to work?"

Church appeared on her shoulder and nodded. "Ready when you are."

THE END