(A/N) Hey guys, time for a slightly delayed update for Phase Two: Betrayal, written by BrambleStar14 and featuring some of our more – shall we say "unstable" – characters, and a shit-ton of action for you all to sink your teeth into. While X-Ray and Vav is currently delayed due to a writer dropping out, we'll have an update for both that and Grifball: Running Rampant shortly, so keep an eye out for those! Again, would like to bump our upcoming Awards presentation for noteworthy RvB and RWBY fics, so if you can think any worth mentioning please PM your nominations to me or upload them onto our forum!

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Ambushed

Agent California and Lt Ian Harper

Written by BrambleStar14

Agent California

"Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny, consume you it will..." ― Yoda, Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

"This," York muttered, backing up a couple of steps, eyes fixed on the now-visible Insurrectionists ahead, "is not good. This is really, really not good."

'No,' Cal heard in his left ear as his hands dropped to his belt, fingers curling around the barrel of the Magnum stashed there. 'This is brilliant.' Cal had to agree, though for different reasons. He took in their surroundings. The group was in the middle of the street, sand blowing around them in some twisted parody of calmness, with the villagers now brandishing various weapons, ranging from the believably appropriate weaponry like rifles to the frankly bizarre, such as the rusted blades several of the grim faced mob sported.

Harper, watching the group, grinned widely, eyes dancing between them as he slowly clapped his hands. "I have to give it to you, you keep impressing! Five Freelancers? I expected ten! At least that way you might have somewhat of a chance! Right, so, I'm getting off track. So, which of you dies first? After all, there's got to be a prize for springing such an obvious trap so nicely, first to fall gets a quick death."

Cal slowly pulled his Magnum from his belt, his face set into grim determination, and froze as Harper raised his own gun swiftly and aimed it at him, no longer smiling. The Freelancers instantly went into full alert, weapons raised and aimed at the group. However, the nature of the level of trouble they were in was soon revealed to be much worse. Every weapon in the town was raised at the small group; they were outnumbered and possibly outmatched. Harper tilted his head and smirked at them, a breeze ruffling his hair to the side and eyes fixed on Cal's magnum.

"That was fun, wasn't it!? Now, while I have enjoyed this little gathering, I have things to do, so if you could all just surrender, that would be swell." No-one moved an inch, staring in different directions at the hostile crowd. "No? Fine." He clicked his fingers and a small flash on a nearby rooftop was the only warning as a sniper shot sounded out. The Freelancers, already in motion, jumped into the crowd.

Cal was then only aware of the battle surrounding him. He saw a rifle aimed in his direction and ducked rapidly, a shot sounding above him and a blur the only hint that he had nearly lost the majority of his brains. 'Watch it!' reprimanded his permanent shadow, 'on the left!' Cal spun around just in time to see a fist swinging towards his unprotected face. Ducking to the side, he lashed out, catching the surprised Insurrectionist in the jaw and sending him to the floor with a crash that was lost in the battle. The Freelancers were making short work of the villagers, Carolina spinning around, weapons felling several hostiles per second, while Florida scattered them with his rifle, methodically choosing his targets, humming a quiet tune to himself. York's shotgun performance was impressive as he mowed down his targets, Maine was just wading through, sometimes throwing them and sometimes just crushing them. Cal nearly winced.

'Well, that all went to hell pretty quickly."

Without warning, he felt the muzzle pressing into the back of his head. He spun, hand raised to slap the weapon to the side and received a heavy handed punch to the temple, spinning and stumbling back. There stood a face from his past, one that he had spent the last few years of his life trying to forget – Falcon, Harper's second in command – whose head was tilted as he regarded Cal. "Hunter. Been a while. Nice getup."

He raised the weapon and Cal, having been able to regain his breath, ducked underneath and slammed into the Innie, taking him off of his feet as they crashed into a wall, Falcon grunted as his armoured back slid down the concrete, the friction sending sparks flying across the air between them. Cal stood up quickly, pulling out his other Magnum to make the most of his momentary advantage, but Falcon grabbed a handful of sand, throwing it and blinding Cal. While his shadow giggled as his predicament, Cal felt a fist crash into his stomach, knocking him to the floor. He heard laughter behind him as Falcon climbed to his feet.

"That Hunter, Falcon?" It was Geist, standing there impassively. Cal blinked several times to clear his eyes; the sand was irritating him and obscuring his vision. Geist still didn't move, but Falcon stepped forwards, weapon now lowered, and his voice cold in warning.

"Maverick warned us off him, remember. Touch him and we die. Focus on the rest-" Falcon was cut off as Florida jumped over a nearby wall, landing not far away and opening fire. Falcon ducked behind a corner quickly while Geist flipped himself up onto the low rooftop, before jumping forwards and rolling down behind Florida, bringing a palm upwards into the underside of Florida's weapon, dragging it up and away while his other hand brought a knife towards Florida's eyes. Florida ducked, slamming a fist into Geist, before engaging him. When he spoke, his voice was reprimanding, like a schoolteacher before a naughty pupil.

"Now, that wasn't nice. You could have had my eyes out, mister." While his tone was calm, his body language spoke otherwise, knocking Geist off of his feet, before he was set up by Falcon, who opened fire with his DMR, forcing Florida to retreat as Geist jumped back up.

'Get up, you moron! We're missing the fight!' yelled his shadow, jumping around in frustration next to Cal. Unfortunately, he still felt sick and the world swayed alarmingly as he climbed to his feet. Stumbling out of the alley, he ducked another swing from a hostile villager sporting a large blade, spinning and using his own quickly drawn knife to slash deeply into his throat, yanking it back out and leaving the gurgling man to clutch at his throat behind him, doomed to die.

Up ahead, Carolina was engaging Geist, who seemed to have abandoned the fight with Florida. Her stun baton slashed through the air, making contact with his blades multiple times every second. As a well-placed kick managed to breach his defences and nearly topple him, a sniper shot rang out again, nearly catching her in the head and forcing her to duck behind cover. Cal dived to the side as the sniper, no doubt Crosshair, fired again, sliding on his side to meet up with the team leader.

"Where the hell is our extraction!?" he yelled over the constant background noise of gunfire. She looked over at him, reloading a new clip into her pistol and shook her head, scowling.

"Ten minutes, minimum. More if they've got an anti-aircraft perimeter set up. Where's Harper?" Cal shrugged, peering out of cover in order to get a better look. Maine was up against Circuit, who was narrowly avoiding death by the giant's hands, ducking and weaving as he looked for a weak spot. Soon, he darted forwards, slamming a fist into the back of Maine's knee, where the armour separated into a joint. While this would normally be no problem, Circuit was wearing gloves that appeared to be electrified and acted similarly to lockdown paint. Maine's leg froze and he grunted as Circuit shied out of danger, rolling backwards and opening fire.

A loud screech from overhead sounded out as Firefly made his presence known, using his jetpack to soar from a rooftop into Maine, knocking him backwards several steps. Firefly, laughing happily as he, rather ironically, clung to Maine's back like a bug, and his hand fell to his side and came back with a small explosive within it, clearly intent on an explosive offence towards the big Freelancer. Maine, however, managed to get a grip on Firefly's other hand, and, seizing it, flung the smaller man off him, who crashed through the baked mud walls of a nearby hut, dust thrown up in his wake.

Cal darted forwards to help York, who was fighting Falcon, when there was a loud bang and he jolted as his right leg suddenly collapsed, sending him sprawling forwards into the sand. Coughing and trying to ignore his protesting leg, he rolled over to see an Insurrectionist grinning in triumph, taking aim again. Cal tried to reach for his gun, which was just out of reach, when a second bang went off and he involuntarily flinched. When no pain, or death, immediately came, he looked around to see his attacker falling slowly backwards, landing on the floor with his arms splayed to the side. Looking around, he scrambled for the gun again as he finally saw Harper, Magnum aimed where Cal's attacker had been standing.

Walking over, Harper looked down and examined Cal, his usual grin absent from his face as he regarded his former subordinate. "I told them not to harm you," he muttered to himself, kneeling down. Seconds later, Cal jumped up; kicking Harper hard in the chest and pulling his blade back from its sheath. Turning, he saw Harper leap forwards and felt him collide with his ribs, causing him to hiss in pain as he was flung backwards. The two of them crashed through what looked like saloon doors and were flung into an abandoned bar. Cal smashed into a table and cursed, while Harper, who had been dislodged, leapt to his feet. Cal's face was contorted while his shadow grinned eagerly. Harper slowly drew his Bowie knife, smiling slightly.

"Jay, here we are. It's been far too long, it really has. How's Mich? Oh, wait." Laughing, he jumped forwards, ducking beneath Cal's lunge and hitting him hard in the ribs. Cal fell to the floor, rolling over and jumping back up. 'Calm down! Do this strategically!' His shadow, unable to decide who to root for, was apparently now giving free combat advice. "Jay," Harper wouldn't let up. "I didn't kill her. That was Ark. You remember Ark, don't you?"

Cal stepped forwards again, stabbing forwards with his blade as Harper sidestepped, grabbing his arm and dragging him forwards. Cal used his momentum to slide his leg out, attempting to trip Harper, who jumped backwards, drawing his Magnum. Cal, who was already stepping forwards, swept it to the side, bringing his own pistol up to aim at Harper's ribs, while Harper brought his knee up, deflecting the gun and flipping Cal over. Cal landed heavily and kicked upwards immediately, knocking the gun from Harper's grasp while Harper rolled forwards to grab his abandoned blade.

He turned to face Cal, smiling wider this time while Cal paused, breathing heavily. Before either could move, the doors were pushed open again and Carolina walked in, her magnums raised and aimed at Harper, who paused, observing the duo positioned on either side of him.

"Give up Harper," Carolina ordered, breathing hard but sounding triumphant. "It's over."

Harper grinned winningly at her. "Of course it isn't. You're still alive. Now, I'm not here for you, Number One. I'm only here for Jay." In a flash, Harper's weapon was aimed at Carolina and fired. She rolled to the side, sprinting forwards and drawing her Humbler. As she swung the weapon, Harper ducked and rolled, catching her arm and knocking the device aside. As he did so, she slammed a knee into his ribs, though this allowed him to catch her across the cheek with a heavy blow. Cal darted in, swinging his blade upwards, causing Harper to duck underneath and swung his fist up, knocking Cal off balance and allowing him to kick him away before turning to Carolina who had somehow procured a shotgun from somewhere, likely behind the bar.

Darting to the side, Harper grabbed the barrel of the gun, wrenching both Carolina and the shotgun forwards. Carolina released the weapon, freeing her hands as she caught Harper across the face. He dropped the shotgun onto the floor as he leaped back to his feet, darting forwards and blocking her next kick with his arm, tripping her other foot and driving an elbow into her chin. Laughing, he walked across the bar to retrieve his fallen Magnum, picking it up and slowly walking back across the room to where Carolina was getting back to her feet slowly. Lashing out, he almost caught her in the ribs, but she swiftly rolled out of the way, following up by delivering another blow to Harper's face. Stumbling backwards, he grinned, raising the gun.

Before he fired, Cal darted forwards, slamming into Harper and knocking him off of his feet and driving the pair into the bar itself, carrying them over the counter where they crashed into the floor. Harper jumped to his feet, picked Cal bodily off the floor and threw him into the fridge, smashing the glass cover and driving a loud cry of pain from Cal as he slid down the fridge, broken bottles of alcohol soaking both him and the floor as he left a trail of blood. Harper slowly stood up, panting, as he retrieved his gun again and took aim at Carolina as she paused, hearing York call for help outside, coming up against something he couldn't take on his own. Cal's hand closed around a jagged shard of glass and he lunged upwards, grabbing Harper and slamming the shard into his face, aiming for his right eye.

Harper yelled, dropping the gun and lashing out, kicking Cal away, the attack apparently actually causing him some form of pain as he cursed, stumbling away, his hand covering his right eye. Carolina darted out of the room as York groaned again. Cal stood up, raising his own magnum and stepping forwards, slamming a palm into Harper's chin and sending him crashing back. Harper straightened up, breath ragged as he regarded Cal, hand falling away from his face. Whether Cal had managed to slash his eye or not, he could not tell; there was too much blood surrounding the area.

"I got you, you son of a bitch!" Cal breathed in victory. York burst into the room behind Harper, slowly rounding the room and adding to the scenario by aiming his own weapon. Harper's face, absent of its usual grin, observed the pair as his hands, held in surrender, slowly went to a pouch around his neck and drew a lighter and cigarette. He placed the cigarette in his mouth and raised the lighter to it.

Cal would curse his mistake later. He knew that Harper didn't smoke and let him do this anyways. Several things happened at once. Harper grinned, opening his mouth and releasing the cigarette, flinging the lighter into the alcohol soaking the floor. Instantly, flames began to consume the room as Falcon kicked the door open, firing his DMR and catching York in the right shoulder, diverting his aim as he clutched at the wound. Harper's foot kicked the shotgun at his feet into the air and he snatched it, firing at the support for the upper bar, bringing it down, where it caught York, knocking him unconscious.

Harper darted forwards, catching Cal and dragging him backwards into another room, where he threw him to the floor, straddling him in seconds, one hand holding a gun to Cal's chin and the other holding his hair as he leant down. Cal instantly swung his head upwards, slamming it into the glass shard still jutting out of Harper's face. Harper recoiled, before freezing as Cal snatched the gun and aimed it at him. Slowly, he raised his hands and spoke.

"Jay," he said sadly. "Why do you stay with them? They don't care about you, not really. Carolina? You saw her run to York. The Director? You're expendable. Jay, you're alone over there. You will always be alone. But me? I actually care. I am the only one left who even remotely cares about you. Name me one of them. One." Cal paused, thinking, and Harper nodded. "Exactly. Just… think about it." Cal thought, his shadow whispering in his ear as he stared into Harper's eyes. His thumb rested on the back of the gun, before pressing down, tilting the barrel up and away from Harper.

Harper slowly stood up, watching Cal, before he turned and left.

Cal sat there, frozen, before he groaned, realising that his left side was burnt pretty badly and he had a large scratch on his neck. Not to mention his knee wound. Hauling himself up, he limped outside, where Florida, seeing him, darted forwards, looping Cal's arm around his shoulders.

"Come on, Cal! Evac's here!" A Pelican rapidly descended through the sky, sending a massive storm of sand into the air, covering the Freelancers from enemy fire as they climbed onto the pelican, where Carolina hit the ramp control panel viciously, raising the ramp as they took off.

Cal sat there, frozen, as he watched the others. 'They don't care about you, not really.' Did they? Did any of them? He was silent for the entire journey.

Lt Ian Harper

Harper watched the pelican take off in silence, head tilted as he slowly removed the jagged glass from his face with a hiss. Despite the pain, a rare sensation, he grinned and started to laugh.

"Boss?" Falcon questioned, walking over. Harper continued to laugh, absently rubbing a thumb along his new wound as he watched the speck in the sky grow smaller and smaller. Eventually, he looked around, blood beginning to pour, unchecked, back down his face.

"Got him," he said finally, grinning at nothing in particular.