(A/N) Hey guys, sorry that this one is coming so late, fell a little behind writing it, and it has really proved a bitch to get through. All I hope is that it paid off, and that you guys enjoy this chapter. It took quite a while to write, and contains quite a lot of foreshadowing for future events, along with some flashbacks that I found really fun to write. Oh, and the song mentioned in the chapter is, of course "Do You Hear The People Sing?" from the musical, Les Miserables, which was based on the novel of the same name by Victor Hugo.
Enjoy!
Chapter Fifty-Six – Do You Hear The People Sing?
Arkansas
Written by NicKenny
"Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!" ― Patrick Henry
Ark sat, quite quietly, on the dusty ground of the locked cell that he, Penn, Harper and their respective squads had been dumped into after they had entered the confines of the Whitegate prison camp. Some of them had been taken aside at the start, into what they had assumed would be their individual cells, but Ark himself had been subjected to nothing more than a rather thorough medical He hadn't spoken in over twelve hours, not since they had been sold off by Athena and Goliath. His men knew the plan, and there was really nothing more to say.
Indeed, talking at all wouldn't have been even remotely sensible, as the cells were no doubt lined with hidden microphones, and even if they weren't, the two guards posted outside could certainly be listening in on them.
In his line of work, paranoia was the code-word of survival.
He ignored the movements of his own men, putting them out of mind for the time being. He forgot about Harper's pacing, like a tiger behind the walls of its enclosure, about Penn silent staring, leaning against the wall in the far corner, his men following suit, about the jokes and curses of Harper's squad, many of whom had no doubt seen the inside of a prison cell at some point in the past, and as a result weren't all that fazed by their current predicament.
Instead, he concentrated on the two guards by the door, focusing on what they were saying, his ears pricked up as they zoned in on the conversation. Unsurprisingly, it seemed as dull and uninformative as the one he had shared with Harper on the way up to the exchange.
The first guard – Vladimir, Ark names him mentally, glancing at his thin, Slavic features – turned to the second, fatter, more Westernized – Estragon, he promptly decided, after a long-forgotten play from his days at the academy – and suddenly their conversation changed from the regular grumbling about rationing, which Ark had heard all too many times before, to something more philosophical.
"Hey man," he began slowly, more than a little hesitant at approaching this new conversational territory. "Do you…do you ever wonder why we're here?"
Estragon turned to him, his face scrunched up in thought. "It's one of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here?" He paused, before resuming the conversation with increased gusto. "I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God watching everything? You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know, man, but it keeps me up at night."
His fellow guard stared at him for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, his mouth slightly open. "…What?! I mean why are we out here, guarding this prison cell?"
Estragon paused, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, not meeting Vladimir's eyes. "Oh. Uh... yeah."
"What was all that stuff about God?"
More uneasy shuffling, no eye contact, and mumbled replies. "Uh...hm? Nothing."
Vladimir raised a sceptical eyebrow, a slight smirk on his face. "You wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"You sure?"
A pause. "Yeah…"
Ark smiled to himself, his first movement in hours, and shook his head slowly. Fucking idiots. Good to know, though, that the guards here were no more competent than the majority of the UNSC grunts that he had come across. Always be smarter than the enemy – Ark's first tenant. It was one of the few that he had no difficulty achieving, not since he left the academy, at least. Even at Project Freelancer, the only one he could actually talk to without willingly dumb himself down had been Georgia. Damn, those had been the good old days.
Ark was perusing through the files on Georgia's data-pad, shaking his head in disbelief as he flicked through each one, ignoring his roommate's smug grin as he watched Ark's amazement grow.
"These are incredible!" he hissed, looking back up from a soluble tracker, intended to be consumed by the target and after that would circulate in their bloodstream for four to six weeks, untraceable, undetectable, perfect in every way.
Georgia nodded slightly bashfully, and waved his hand in dismissal. "Well, we all bring something to the table, here at Project Freelancer. Maybe I can't kill two fellas with one bullet, or with my pinkie finger, but we're all here for a reason, right?"
Ark stared at him for a moment, his brain still reeling from what he had found on Georgia's data-pad. "And all of this is tested; you have successful prototypes?"
At this, Georgia sagged slightly. "Well…kind of. I have a couple of prototypes, but my old squad didn't really have the budget for a lot of it. There's a couple of designs in there for a robotic soldier, like a drone, but we just didn't have the money to make anything but a slapdash model outta spare parts, and I was told to forget about it after that exploded."
He trailed off for a moment, before picking the conversation pack up once more. "Actually, the corporal I'd worked the most with was really cut up about that. He was really excited about the whole 'robot solder' thing, man even sent in a letter of complaint when the captain ordered me to let it drop. Told me I was the best sergeant he ever had the day I left for Project Freelancer. Odd fellow."
Ark smiled thinly. "Must have been to think you were a good sergeant." He dodged the spanner Georgia threw at him, but decided to let that conversation topic drop, given that his roommate had all manners of tools lying on the workbench next to him. "Well, at least you'll have more than enough cash to work with here. Did you see the budget the Director has put aside for the R&D department? You've got enough money for lasers, robots, and maybe even laser robots!"
Georgia's face lit up at this. "You really think so? Man, that'd be so cool. You know, between the two of us, we could probably finish all those projects I never got around to. Began working on this project a while back, portable teleportation devices, but it never really got off the ground."
Ark just smiled back in return. He had found a friend.
The door separating their wing of the prison from the main courtyard suddenly swung open, and Ark blinked as light streamed through, momentarily blinding him. A man walked through the arch, blocking out the light, and Ark smiled in recognition as Sergeant Arthur Dent walked up to the two guards on duty.
"This lot give you any trouble?" he asked, somewhat gruffly, to Vladimir and Estragon, who both immediately snapped off a pair of smart salutes.
"Not at all, sir, they've been pretty quiet, to tell you the truth. Guess they saw us and knew not to try anything!"
Ark saw Harper twitch slightly at this, and was slightly surprised to see that the Lieutenant managed to keep himself restrained, but Sergeant Dent's look of evident disbelief and scorn quickly took his attention away from Harper, and he chuckled slightly.
"Yes…of course," the sergeant murmured, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, the Warden wants them out working by the morning, so you're to divide them up and distribute them among the chain gangs. After that, feel free to knock off and get some sleep, you'll be up with them in the morning."
The two guards nodded, and saluted again, much to their superior's chagrin. He turned, and was almost at the door, when the thin one – Vladimir, Ark reminded himself – suddenly spoke. "Sir, before you came in, we were wondering why we're here? Feel like weighing in?"
Dent turned, and Ark was certain that his reply was going to be scathing, but he merely blinked in surprise when the sergeant replied.
"Forty-two," he said, staring at them for a moment, before shaking his head. "No, that doesn't fit at all."
With that, he turned and left, and the two guards glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, but the display passed by without further comment, telling Ark all he needed to know about Sergeant Dent's mannerisms within the prison.
They turned to their prisoners, and unlocked the door. "Right, you lot!" Estragon yelled, banging the butt of his rifle against the bars of their cell, catching their attention. "We're gonna be splitting you up and divvying you out throughout the prison. You three–" pointing to Harper, Crosshair and Falcon. "You'll be working with Block D, cutting pieces of metal into smaller pieces of metal, and hey, maybe you'll make it a few years before your lungs fail, after spending each day breathing in tiny metal fragments."
He then pointed to Ark, Penn and Grendel in turn. "You three are going to Block A, and they'll find something worthwhile to use for you there. I've heard they're looking for porters, and two of you, at least, should be able to help out there."
Ark felt that this was probably meant as an insult, but he couldn't really argue with it – Penn and Grendel were certainly more capable than himself to move heavy equipment around. Not that it would matter, of course. He didn't plan on staying here much longer.
He slowly got to his feet and shuffled out with the rest of them, fixing Harper with a death glare as they left the cell, not speaking, but praying that Harper would get the message and stick with the plan. Himself, Penn and Grendel were swiftly separated from the group as they left the confines of their temporary prison cell, blinking collectively as they entered the harsh sunlight, taking in their surroundings.
Ark had, of course, already seen the prison through satellite images, blueprint scans and surveillance camera streams, but somehow they all failed to capture the immense size of the complex, which spread out as far as the eye could see. Ark found himself in the heart of the facility, the eighty feet concrete walls looming in the distance on every side, appearing both near and far away at the same time.
The air stank of sweat and filth, the dust and uncompromising sunlight made the eyes water and the vision blurred as a result, and the sounds of men and women groaning, shouting and grunting boomed from all around him into one single cacophony of sound, mingling in with the whirring and thumping of heavy machinery, and the yelling of the guards.
Like Ark, Penn and Grendel, all of the inmates were clad in loose-fitting, pale yellow shirts and pants, with heavy boots to match, protecting their feet from the materials that they had to work with, and the uncompromising environment. The sun beat down on him, and Ark grimaced as sweat rolled down his brow, his back already soaked through in the few minutes that he had spent walking outside. Hydration was going to be a serious problem out here. His plan wouldn't work if his men were too weak to move. He hoped they wouldn't have to be here long, but that was all in Athena and Goliath's hands now.
As much as it went against his very nature, he would have to place his life in the hands of others, and place faith in trust.
From where he stood right now, his convictions didn't sound all that convincing.
He sighed in relief as the guards whistled to his team, sagging slightly as he placed the crate down next to its brethren. All around the camp, the sounds of tens of thousands of men settling down from work, as klaxons sounded throughout the base, accompanied by the shrill whistles of the guards.
He fell in line with Penn and Goliath as their group splintered off once more, and Ark sighed internally as Vladimir and Estragon walked up to them, and signalled for the prisoners to follow them. Figures that those idiots would be placed in charge of his team, given his luck lately. As if Harper wasn't enough hassle to deal with for a lifetime.
He glanced around the rest of the group of prisoners, wondering if they'd be in any condition to help himself, Penn and Grendel. Most of them seemed to be suffering from severe dehydration, but one or two were clearly recent additions like himself and his men, and could probably make good use of them as cannon fodder if necessary.
One of them caught his eye, a dark-skinned, grizzled man, a little older than Ark himself. There was a flash of recognition there, perhaps, or maybe Ark was just imagining it, but something about the man perturbed him. He inclined his head slightly and looked away, ignoring Penn's questioning look, and simply concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, something which became increasingly difficult with each step, as the heat of the evening sun beat down on them.
They were led to a large cell complex, and separated into smaller groups. Ark didn't know weren't to be grateful or irritated that Penn was placed in the same cell as himself – on one hand, it meant he had greater support for when he needed it, on the other, it went against their original plan of diffusing and spreading out as much as possible, leading to the greatest possible spread of chaos for their assault. The grizzled black man was also left in their cell, and Ark felt his eyes lingering on him as he sat down against the wall at the back, Penn sitting next to him, but he ignored it, though he continued to try to place the man.
"Not long now," he murmured, and he felt Penn tense slightly next to him, before nodding slightly, almost imperceptibly.
He settled back against the wall, and began to tick off the hours, waiting for Athena and Goliath's signal, waiting for hell to descend upon Whitegate. He lay back, settling in while they waited for the guards to pass through their daily food and water rations, and thought back to the not-so-distant past.
He felt Georgia watching him, and turned to face his roommate, who was fiddling absentmindedly with a wrench, making some unconscious adjustments to his latest project.
"What's up?" he asked, somewhat impatiently, eager to get back to his coding on his prototype Eternity Code. He had made some really huge breakthroughs lately, and felt as though he was finally getting somewhere with it, so the last thing he needed was Georgia distracting him with him problems.
"W-what? Sorry, was in a world of my own," Georgia replied, somewhat bashfully, and Ark already felt as though he could guess where this was going, judging by how his friend refused to meet his eyes.
It had only been a few days since their failed assassination attempt on General Allen, the leader of the URF, and Georgia had been off ever since. Ark had let it pass without saying anything, but it had still been bothering him, but he hadn't wanted to have this discussion yet.
"Look man, I know you would have made that jump, I just went first," he said, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked over at his roommate. "You need to stop beating yourself up about it."
Georgia sighed heavily from across the room, shaking his head furiously. "You just don't understand, Ark. I just…" he trailed off, and this time Ark was the one to sigh.
"Is this about South?" he asked, and he knew that he had struck gold when Georgia tensed as he said her name, flinching ever so slightly.
"South?" Georgia asked casually, attempting to cover up his true reaction. "I was worried about you, too." He wasn't lying, but Ark, having spent years learning how to hide what he really felt, wasn't fooled by the poor attempt at distraction, and this time the groan was internal.
"Look man, you know South's never had any time for me, and nothing's changed since then. She fell, I jumped after her, Penn got us away. I would have done it for anyone, and you would have too, I just thought faster in this case."
He knew Georgia had a bit of a thing for the female Dakota twin, something that amused him slightly, but saddened him to the same extent. South wasn't unattractive, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't felt drawn to her at some point, something that Georgia had evidently picked up on, and then blown out of proportion. But ultimately, that was where it ended. He wasn't the kind of person for any sort of relationship, even one that was purely sexual, and he couldn't imagine South getting involved in anything more than that. Georgia was, quite possibly, the only real friend that he had managed to make in years, and he wasn't going to get in his way if he really saw something between himself and South, even though he doubted that South reciprocated Georgia's feelings.
Also, there was North to factor in. While Ark has always gotten along well enough with the blond agent, there was something in his eyes that said 'Stay the hell away from my sister' whenever he saw Ark and South together; that simply didn't show up whenever it was Georgia in the picture.
A few moments passed, before Georgia glanced up at his friend, smiling weakly. "You think I've got a shot with her?" he asked, before laughing slightly at his own hesitancy.
"If you don't, man, then no one does."
He snapped out of his reminiscing with a start, as the slot at the foot of their cell door opened, and the rations slid through. In some cells, Ark could imagine, this probably led to an all-out battle royalé between the prisoners, but those in his cell seemed more than content to take only what was allotted to them, a decision that perhaps was aided by the presence of Penn, who stood about a head taller than the tallest of their compatriots. No one in their right mind would want to start a fight with him about.
Ark smiled, and took his own set of rations, sighing gratefully as his meagre portion of water trickled down his throat, curing the worst of his dehydration. The food was bland and tasteless, but to Ark it was one of the finest meals he had ever had. Hunger does that to you, he mused, and anyway, this isn't much worse than the meals served back at the Academy. Wherever their funds went, it certainly didn't go into the canteen.
When they had finished their food, and passed the metal containers the food had come in back through the slot, Ark settled back against the wall, preparing for a rough night's sleep. It didn't take him long to doze off, reassured slightly by the presence of Penn next to him, and for the first time in months, his sleep was uninterrupted by the faces of the dead.
However, he was woken from his sleep prematurely, jumping as the sound of music burst through the prison, blaring from the dozens upon dozens of speakers located throughout the prison, and he grinned in recognition. Athena and Goliath were ready, it seemed. Time to get to work.
"What's going on?!" he heard one of the guards yell, as the chorus began, echoing the ballad of a twentieth century musical, based on a novel written in the mid-1800s. Athena had been fond of coding viruses around the verses of old musicals, and evidently she had broken out some of her more…revolutionary work, in this case.
"Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people,
Who will not be slaves again!"
Ark collapsed to the ground, writhing and groaning, as if in intense agony. Spittle flecked his lips, and his eyes were wide open, the whites showing up starkly against his dark skin.
"Help, we need some help in here!" Penn yelled, standing up and banging his fists against the door of the cell. "We've got a sick man in here!"
There was a moment of silence on the other side of the door, and then the grille slid back, and a pair of suspicious eyes peeked in, widening slightly as they took in Ark's form, and the grille was swiftly closed once more.
There was another brief pause, accompanied by some ferocious whispering, and then the door opened, and three guards entered, fully armed, and looking more than a little bit suspicious. With the door open, the sounds from the outside became even clearer, and there could be no mistaking the music now, as the second chorus began, repeating the same lines as before.
In the distance, a few lone gunshots rang out, and the guards within the cell started, looking about uneasily. Harper and the others must have started already, Ark realised, smiling slightly. Everything was going to plan.
The first guard reached him, kneeling down and prodding Ark gently with his gun. "Are you okay? What's the matter?"
It was Estragon, Ark realised, and his smile widened. He glanced up at the soldier, before his hand lashed out, seizing the barrel of the guard's gun and forcing it upwards, where it connected with Estragon's nose, breaking it. He pulled the gun out of his clutches, slamming the butt of the gun into the fallen guard's head as he went down, knocking him out instantly.
Penn, in the meantime, had fallen upon the other two guards, knocking them to the floor before they had time to react, and falling upon them, pounding them into submission. Ark picked up the guns they had dropped and turned to the other prisoners in the cell, breathing heavily, as the sounds of gunfire outside grew louder and more widespread, but the music grew louder still, as the sound continued to blare on, evidently having been placed on repeat.
"Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade,
Is there a world you long to see?"
"I'm going to give you a choice," he began, looking at them one by one. "Myself and my friend here plan on leaving this hell-hole, and we're willing to take anyone who wants to leave with us. The only thing we'll ask you to do is to fight with us. Do you want to see your family and friends again, to be free? We can give you that, and we're asking for so little in return."
A split-second passed, before the grizzled black man, who had been staring at Ark previously, stepped forward. "I'll fight for you," he murmured gruffly. "I'm not going to be a slave any longer, not for another second."
"Then you're now a free man," Ark replied with a smile, tossing him one of the guards' guns. "It's time to ensure your freedom."
The others then fell forward, and Ark passed the remaining weapons over to them, keeping Estragon's magnum for himself. Vladimir and the other guard, both of whom Penn had dealt with, were bloody pulps at this stage, and Ark couldn't tell whether or not they were alive or dead.
Not that it matters, really.
They filed out, and found themselves alone, the other guards evidently having left to deal with the gunfire outside, and Ark and Penn began unlocking the cell doors, using a set of keys that had been on the unnamed guard's belt. Ark decided to call him Lucky, because the irony amused him, but he soon put him out of his mind, and concentrated on the task at hand.
He led the rabble of freed prisoners through the winding corridors of Cell Block A, emerging into the night to see sections of the prison burning, and his army of prisoners whooped and cheered at the sight. A few guards noticed them, drawn by the sudden noise, and a brief firefight broke out, but Ark and Penn were able to dispatch them quickly, and their weapons were seized by the former prisoners.
He glanced at Penn, who nodded to him with a thin smile, and they separated from the prisoner's they had rescued, leaving them to hold the guards' attention, a task that they seemed more than willing to carry out. They made their way towards the heart of the compound, where the prison's warden had established his centre of operations, fighting their way past groups of guards, aiding the prisoner's when they could – Harper and the others had clearly released other groups as well, judging by the number of prisoners out in the open, and they themselves had probably released more. The grounds of the prison were quickly being transformed into an active warzone, and the music continued to blare on.
"Will you give all you can give,
So that our banner may advance?
Some will fall and some will live,
Will you stand up and take your chance?
The blood of the martyrs,
Will water the meadows of France!"
Not quite France, Ark corrected, but the sentiment still stands. It was only at this point, that he realised he was being followed, and expecting to see a bloody but grinning Harper, he spun around, magnum raised.
However, much to his surprise, their follower wasn't the Insurrectionist Lieutenant, but instead the grizzled man from their cell.
"Why are you following us?" Ark asked, irritated, but intrigued.
The man simply stared at him for a moment, shaking his head slowly. "I knew I recognised that voice," he muttered slowly. "It's been almost twenty fucking years, Erik, but you sound exactly like you always did."
Ark stared at him for a second, momentarily thrown by the use of his real name, and something clicked in his head, casting him back almost two decades. "Jo?" he asked slowly, cautiously, and he looked closer at the man, realising that his initial estimation on the man's age was way off – the time working in Whitegate had evidently put years onto him – the man himself couldn't have been much older than Ark himself. "Is that you?"
The man smiled, revealing stained and broken teeth, missing his bottom right canine, and chuckled softly to himself. "I thought you were dead," he muttered slowly, still shaking his head. "I thought everyone had fucking died."
Ark just held out his hands, walking up and embracing the man, whom he had grown up with before the destruction of his village, too shocked even to ask how Jo had survived, stunned to find that he wasn't the only survivor.
"This is all very sweet and all," Penn cut in, and Ark's ears began to pick up the gunfire and screaming once more, "but can we please keep moving. If he's coming with us, great, the more the merrier, but we're on a mission here."
Ark let go of Jo, and nodded towards Penn, shrugging slightly. "You're right," he acknowledged, apologising, before turning back to his old friend. "This reunion is going to have to wait. We're going after the warden, he's the man who led the attack on our village all those years back. Will you join us?"
Jo's smile simply spread even wider. "Even better," he replied. "I can get you in there, without having to go through the front doors."
"So we're trusting a guy you haven't seen for twenty years, to lead us through the most heavily defended section of the prison still under UNSC control, because you say so?" Harper asked, as Ark and Penn laid out the plan at the rendezvous point. He had already been waiting, by the time they made it down there, covered in blood and gore, his eyes shining fiercely.
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Ark agreed, and stared Harper down. There was a brief, tense moment, before Harper smiled and broke away, turning to his men and laughing, and they laughed in reply.
"Then hell, what are we waiting for?!" he exclaimed, clapping Ark on the back, leaving a bloody handprint on the shoulder or his prison uniform. Ark smiled thinly, veiling his distaste, and turned to Jo, who nodded in reply, patting the assault rifle he had pilfered from a guard's bullet ridden corpse. They followed him through the camp, circling around the warden's tower, using the night to hide their progress, and eliminating any of the guards who came across them.
The side entrance soon came into view, hidden away behind a warthog fuelling station to the side, guarded only by two lone guards, the first of whom was dropped by a perfectly placed bullet through the temple, the second by a knife thrown by Harper, which whistled through the air before striking the man through his left eye socket, and then into the brain. He dropped without a sound, instantly dead, and Harper chuckled appreciatively to himself.
"I am fucking awesome!"
Ark sighed, and shook his head. Sometimes it was just better not to comment. "Right, we hit them hard. There shouldn't be too strong a guard presence inside the tower, but we eliminate anyone we come across, as quickly as possible. We can't let an alarm sound, there's still too many UNSC soldiers out there. Understood?"
His group nodded as one, and they moved past the two fallen bodies, Harper and Penn taking point, Ark and Jo behind them, and the two squads following behind on mop up, clearing out any alternative routes, hunting down the guards within the tower. The progressed quickly through the tower, hearing the occasional muffled gunshot or thump as Penn and Harper's squads spread through the building, silencing any guards they came across.
The only guards they themselves met were stationed outside the warden's office, and were prompty eliminated by Harper, who produced an SMG and let fly, spending the entire round on the two soldiers, who collapsed, bullet ridden, against the wall.
Ark raised a hand to his temple, massaging it slightly, biting back on the curt remark that threatened to spill out, that they didn't want to alert the guards inside the tower of their presence. He followed Harper and Penn as they walked through the door, and Ark passed by them, frowning as the warden turned around in his chair to face them.
The warden, Sergeant Major Jira Olumbu, was an unremarkable man. Late-fifties, receding hairline, dark black skin, and eyes that betrayed the intelligence behind them, the only thing that discredited his normality. And he was the man who had ordered the attack on Ark's village. He was the one who burned it down to the ground.
"Ah," the warden stated, smiling slightly, displaying brilliantly white teeth. "It appears that I have visitors. You must forgive me for the state of things at the moment, it seems as though we're undergoing a small riot, but I trust that order will be re-established soon."
A second later, the building trembled as an explosion boomed beneath them. Something had probably hit the fuel depot, no doubt. "You know who we are, I assume," Ark replied, his knuckled whitening in the vice-grip he had on his pistol. "And you know why we're here."
"Oh yes," Olumbu replied calmly, appearing unperturbed by the men in front of him, who were now joined by Penn and Harper's squads, having cleared out the building. "I know exactly why you're here, Mr Arkansas. You're here to kill me. However, before you do so, can I ask what crimes you claim that I'm guilty of?"
Ark smiled grimly. "Of course, Warden. Nineteen years ago you led an attack on a small group of villages on the planet Tearwrung-9, in the Outer Rim. A small, mainly agricultural planet. You probably won't remember it. The UNSC claimed the attacks were carried out by Insurrectionists, and I spent eighteen and a half years believing that lie, until I discovered the truth. You and your men carried out that slaughter, in response to Insurrectionist activity in the area."
He paused for a moment, breathing deeply. "You see, Warden, I grew up in one of those villages. It wasn't much, but it was home to me. I was one of the few survivors."
"As was I," Jo broke in, next to me, his assault rifle raised in the warden's direction, his face flushed with anger.
Ark ignored his interruption, and continued, "So you see, Warden, this is personal for me. And that is why I'm here to kill you."
Surprisingly, the warden took this revelation rather well, nodding along to his words. "Ah, yes. Revenge. The oldest of motives. In that case, Mr Arkansas, I have a counteroffer that you might be interested in."
Realisation finally dawned on Ark. "You knew why we were coming for you all along, didn't you?"
The warden laughed in response. "But of course! You revealed your list of targets a bit prematurely, I think. With myself and Lieutenant Harada on the list, in didn't take me long to put two and two together, and your file proved rather helpful in that regard, Erik."
"You…you know who I am?" Ark asked slowly, and he could feel Harper leaning in, putting every word away for future inspection.
"I do," the warden replied, smiling. "And as I said, I have a counteroffer. I know you hate me, and that there's few scenarios in which I come out of this alive, but thankfully, I have one where we both leave this room alive."
Ark stared at him for a moment, unmoving. "Go on."
"I am the man who destroyed your village, yes, I do not deny that. I destroyed the life you could have had, and all the family you ever had. I imagine that there's only one man in this universe that you'd rather kill than me."
"Harada," the former-freelancer cut in, realising where this conversation was going, ignoring Harper's confused "Who?!" and the following hushed explanation from Falcon, his second-in-command, that Harada was on our hit-list.
Olumbu inclined his head. "Indeed. If you spare my life, the man who gave the order, I will give you Harada, the man who pulled the trigger. I assume you found surveillance videos, or recordings of some kind regarding the attack, because it took me months going through ONI records to discover that Harada was the one to do so."
Ark frowned, because something didn't add up here. "You're a sergeant major, and have been for the last twenty years. How do you get access to classified ONI records?"
A brief, harsh laugh followed in reply. "You'd be a fool to judge a man's power by his rank. Lieutenant Harada may outrank me, technically, but there is a reason why I run this prison, and why he runs field missions for ONI. Sometimes the UNSC require men like me, and your good friend there," nodding to Harper, "to whom rank is but a label, who transcend the confines it places upon them. I may be just a sergeant major, but you would be hard pushed to find a colonel in this army with greater influence than myself. My rank keeps me unnoticed, so that I can continue to do what I do best, and keep animals like you in their place."
Ark's blood pressure was rising at this point, but he clamped down on it, and raised his magnum, taking pleasure from the panic that showed up in the warden's eyes. "Get to the point," he warned, his voice remaining level.
The warden raised his hands. "Hold up, hold up. I know where Harada is. I assume you've been searching for him, with little success, given that ONI has erased his records, and have done all they can to make him untraceable. It has taken me a long time to gather this information, and I will not part with it lightly."
"What do you want for it?" Penn asked, interrupting the conversation, but he was ignored by the warden, who had eyes only for Ark.
"I merely ask for your word, that you will not kill me, or otherwise harm me, in return for this information. It is not a complicated request."
He stared at the former-freelancer with a smile, and Ark stared back, resisting the impulse to offload a round right between the warden's eyes. Do I have a choice? he asked himself, knowing full well that they had had no success in tracking Harada down to date. Which one do I want to kill more?
He paused, shocked that he had just asked himself that question, rather than attempting to weigh up the two men's crimes, and making his decision that way. He looked away, troubled, and caught sight of Jo's face, in which he saw the same bloodlust that was reflected in Harper's face next to him, and the decision suddenly became clear.
"If you tell me where Harada is, and what he is doing, I sweat that I will not harm or kill you," he replied monotonously, taking no pleasure in the statement.
Harper began to protest, but Ark held up his hand, and Penn took a step forward, silencing the Lieutenant for the moment.
The warden smiled, and nodded. "Then it's a deal. Lieutenant Harada has been working for ONI for the past three years. From what I learned, the last planet that he was on was Arcite, investigating Insurrectionist activity on the planet. Probably your operation, in all reality. Maybe you've already met him?"
"That's all?"
Olumbu nodded. "That's all I have. I trust you'll honour our deal. Your file was very insistent on your sense of honour."
Ark smiled, and turned away, winking slightly at Harper, who stared back nonplussed. "In that case, Penn, please be so good as to take care of the good warden, would you?"
The warden frowned in confusion, rising to his feet as Penn began to walk towards him, shaking. "What're you doing, you gave your word that you wouldn't kill me. What are you doing, Arkansas?!"
"I said that I wouldn't kill you," Ark reminded Olumbu, smiling as Penn seized the sergeant major, who attempted, unsuccessfully, to fight him off. "But I never said anything about him. Goodbye, Warden. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, your help has been invaluable."
The sergeant major struggled in Penn's grip, but the giant remained impassive and immovable, walking slowly over to the sliding doors, which Scope – Penn's sniper – opened, with some presence of mind, bowing slightly as Penn walked by. He took eight short, shuddering steps as the sounds of gunfire and the yelling of soldiers could now be heard by those still inside.
"You can't do this!" Olumbu screamed, his eyes rolling in their sockets, clawing ineffectively at Penn's face, but the former Freelancer merely tightened his grip on the warden's shoulders, making it more difficult for him to move his arms. "They'll hunt you down! You have no idea what you're doing here."
Ark, who had left the warden's office, following Penn out onto the balcony, chuckled quietly to himself. "No, Warden. You had no idea what you were doing when you ordered your men to burn and slaughter their way through my village. But now you do. Now you know exactly what you did. And I'm just glad I got to be here."
By this point, Penn had reached the edge of the balcony, and the warden's feet dangled in the air only a few inches above the barrier. "Goodbye," Penn rumbled, before pushing the warden back and letting go.
Ark's eyes met the sergeant major's for a second, before Olumbu plummeted downwards, disappearing from sight with a brief, cut-off scream.
Penn stepped back, cracking his knuckles with satisfaction. "Guess that's the last we'll be seeing of him," he noted, with some satisfaction.
Ark glanced at him for a moment, before nodding and turning to the others. "Penn's right, it's time to go. The UNSC will have prepped a response team, and we don't want to be here when they show up. Harper, lead the way."
As they filed out and made their way toward the awaiting pelican, which Athena and Goliath had been instructed to land in the centre of the courtyard, Ark couldn't help but smile. Three down, six to go.
Oh, and we need to blow a hole through the front gates on our way out, he reminded himself. Those guys down there have definitely earned their freedom.
No more slavery.