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This is the first draft of a story that is complete. (10/26/2020) |
| “Chrissy, wait,” Genel called after the former XO, who was furiously stomping toward the Command Room door. “Leave her be, Archer,” I told Genel. Perhaps I should have been less stern, but right now I didn’t have the time to soothe anyone. You’re a heartless bastard. She muttered it such that I almost couldn’t make it out, but I knew that was what she called me. I wasn’t one to protest indignantly about what I was like. People were free to think whatever they like about me. Besides… Maybe it wasn’t altogether incorrect. “But Knight—” Genel said, halfway to turning around to follow the one who just left the room. “But, nothing. Let her go. We don’t have time right now to spend on a foolish girl who thinks she can save everyone.” The room got considerably quieter and tenser once I said that. Jacobs and Reid’s eyes wandered to the walls a little. Josh lowered his gaze and avoided mine. Genel appeared to breathe in and out deeply and slowly, her shoulders moving with a sort of wounded lethargy. King crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Bit too harsh, isn’t it, Grim Reaper?” the leader of the Special Forces team said, her volume dropping to a murmur. “I agree that we need to prioritize the downtown attack, but maybe some things don’t need to be said aloud, you know?” “No. Call it what it is.” King looked as if she wanted to argue against that, but perhaps realizing that she hardly possessed the whole picture here, she kept quiet. “Let’s all get some sleep,” I said to the five people still with me in the room. “It’s going to be a busy day.” The Special Forces personnel all looked at each other, as if collectively searching for something else to say. In the end, they decided to keep out of personal matters. King, Jacobs, and Reid bid the rest of us goodnight, then left the Command Room to retire for the night. When the CSOR team had gone, Josh spoke up first. “All right, boss. I think it’s gotten to the point where I can be concerned. What is your problem with Chrissy?” I glanced at him, wondering how to answer him exactly. My eyes flickered to Genel for a second, who unfortunately averted her eyes. She clearly didn’t want to be the one to decide whether or not I disclose things to the last Shadow member. “It’s personal, Josh,” I replied. “Clearly, but this personal business of yours has already cut down our team to three. I’d say this is now my business, too,” he said calmly. I stared at him motionlessly for a moment, mulling it over. I trusted Josh; he’s been part of the team as long as the team had been formed, just like me and Genel. Frankly, the only reason I hadn’t told him about recent revelations was because he didn’t have a personal link to the events of four years ago. “Okay.” I paused to arrange my thoughts. “When I left without telling you a few nights ago, I went to CFB Calgary to look four our missing XO. She wasn’t there, but I did find a personnel file for her. A Northstar file.” Josh’s eyebrows arched. “Wait, wait. A Northstar file on Chrissy? What?” “Yeah, that’s right. She used to be a merc working with Northstar in late 2016 to early 2017.” “What the hell? I’ll admit, I didn’t give her C.O.S. personnel file the most thorough read, but there was nothing in there about that.” “She lied to us, Josh. She obviously forged her records somehow, because anyone with her history would have at least snagged on the CSIS’ investigation net.” Josh shook his head as if to wake up from a dream, looking bemused. “You’re serious, right? I never thought she’d… I mean, she doesn’t seem the type.” I nodded. “I’m serious. I took the file with me. I’ve got proof.” “She’s… not still with them, is she?” “No, she’s not,” Genel suddenly answered for me, sounding adamant. “She quit before joining the C.O.S.” Josh cocked his head back a little, his gaze turning to Genel. ”You know all about this?” “No more than Ian does. Look, it doesn’t matter. She’s on our side now.” “That’s debatable at best,” I said, “I don’t trust her to be around you two.” “Ian, that was four years ago. She’s been with the C.O.S. for twice as long as she was with Northstar,” Genel said exasperatedly, running her nails through her hair tiredly. “Okay, okay, so she’s got history with that PMC,” Josh said, now looking at me again. “Why do you seem so uptight about that fact, Ian? You know the C.O.S. takes applicants with all kinds of backgrounds, right? I mean, if she had some severe criminal background, then that would obviously be one thing, but—” “It’s not her being Northstar I’ve got a problem with.” “Ex-Northstar,” Genel corrected me emphatically. “Then, what is?” Josh demanded, starting to sound a little impatient. I gave Genel another fleeting look, gaining both a serious and resigned expression from her, before bracing myself and answering finally. “You remember that bombing in March 2017? In downtown?” Josh nodded slowly. “Hard not to. Calgary hasn’t had anything happen on a scale like that before.” “Northstar was behind it. It was a job. They were supposed to take out a few targets, but for some reason, they didn’t think of the collateral damage. Guess who was on the team that pulled that off.” Josh’s expression remained lost as if he was still puzzling out the question. Then his eyes grew to the size of golf balls and his jaw slackened. “No,” he said in disbelief. “No, you’re kidding. Chrissy was… She did that?” “…Yeah.” “I’m sure she had her reasons for going through with it,” Genel said with a sigh. “We don’t have the whole story, guys. We should at least look into this before possibly condemning her. Whatever she did four years ago doesn’t change the fact that she’s done much good after that.” “Boss, I know that’s… terrible, but how is that personal for you?” Josh asked me. His voice had lowered considerably now, even though the three of us were the only ones in the room. I breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, clenching my right hand into a fist in anticipation of those tremors. My hand shook a little nonetheless from how tightly I’d curled my fingers. “Genel and I knew someone who died in that bombing. Someone we’d known a long time. Ever since I joined the C.O.S., I’ve been trying to find the people responsible.” Josh blinked a few times, then shook his head minutely. “That’s crazy.” “I have her file that proves she was there.” “I’m not saying you’re lying, boss. I’m just shocked by all this. She’s just so… I don’t know. Not like that.” “I don’t care. Point is, I don’t want anyone with this kind of history making decisions within this team.” “So, what are you going to do about her?” Josh asked, glancing at Genel, then back at me. I hesitated at first. Just kill her already! “I’m still working on that,” I said. “Anyway, now’s not the time. We’ve still got the assault to deal with. We can think of what to do with her once things have settled down.” I’ve done so many terrible things. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re hesitating. Shoot. A wave of dizziness came at me without warning, causing me to swoon on the spot. I out my hand to stop my fall, my palm catching the edge of the table. Josh managed to grab my upper arm as I brought my other hand up to my mouth. Painful contractions wracked my gut as I struggled to keep from expelling the eggs I had for dinner. “Whoa, you okay?” Josh’s concerned voice sounded like it came from underwater. “Just… give me a minute,” I tried to tell him through my hand cupped over my mouth. The nausea reached a plateau in my stomach, then began to subside slowly. Genel’s face was hovering next to mine. “I knew you shouldn’t be up yet. That’s it, you have to sit the attack and—” “No!” I croaked, nearly shouting back at her before managing to regulate my volume. “It’s just… something I ate. Don’t… worry about it.” “Are you sure?” Josh asked, still holding my arm as I was halfway to the floor. “Boss, this is the worst I’ve seen you.” “I’ve been worse, believe me.” “Ian, please, just—” Genel started again, but I had my mind made up already. “No, Genel.” I removed my hand from my mouth and slowly got back up, prompting Josh to let go of me reluctantly. The painful, rolling sensations in my gut had mostly abated now, though I still wasn’t entirely certain I wouldn’t retch in the next five minutes. “I’m going. This is final. Stop trying to convince me otherwise, because you won’t.” Genel fell silent. To be honest, I was out of new things to expect her to stay. What else was there to say? I’m the stubborn friend who won’t listen to a concerned party’s actually sound advice. I knew that she meant well and that I was being a constant source of annoyance and irritation for her. But it would be better for the both of us if she just gave up trying to get me to change. Or change back. She wouldn’t have to worry herself sick about an idiot who won’t listen to her. And I’d have less resistance about the way I do things here. “Let’s all get some rest,” I said to the two of them. “It’s going to get lively in a few hours. Understood?” Josh looked resigned. “Okay. Meet you here again at…?” “Be here by 0700. Going to briefly go over the plan one last time before we move out.” “Sure thing, boss. You gonna be okay?” “Of course. Now go on, get rested. Both of you.” Josh squeezed my shoulder amiably, then turned around and left the Command Room. When only Genel and I were left, I let out a sigh. “You go, too,” I told her. She wasn’t looking me in the eye, instead opting to look down somewhere below eye level at me. “Okay, Ian.” She drew an emphatic breath. “You want to be a dumbass about this, fine.” “Thanks.” “Just tell me one last thing.” “What about Chrissy?” “Leave her be. She wants to sulk and pull a tantrum about my decisions, good for her.” “You’re being an asshole about her, but that’s not what I meant. What are you going to do about her once all this is over?” The question was valid, and it had already been asked before. Yet, I still couldn’t give a one hundred percent straight answer. “We’ll cross that bridge later.” Genel now looked up to stare at me dead in the eye. “All I’m saying is to try and get the whole picture before you decide on something big about her. People will do things they don’t want to when they’re desperate, Ian. I want you to remember that.” “Just because I understand why people do what they do, doesn’t mean what they do is right.” She stared motionlessly a while longer, then looked away slightly. “Goodnight, Ian.” She walked past me and stepped out the Command Room door. When she had gone, I waited a couple of minutes, lost in thinking about nothing and everything, before leaving the empty room and heading for my quarters. When I got to my room, I took off my boots, mag belt, vest, and other combat gear, leaving them on the floor beside my bed. I plopped down on the queen-sized mattress and shut off the lamp sitting on the dresser next to the bed. I closed my eyes and tried to empty my mind for the time being, but— I’ve done so many terrible things. Don’t you think people can change, Ian? I stifled an annoyed grunt and pressed my palms against my shut eyelids. What if she was right? Wait, you didn’t get this far by being forgiving. Why start now? What sets her apart from the dozens, if not hundreds, of other terrorist scum you’ve disposed of? Is it because she’s small? Harmless-looking? A woman, even? Bullshit. You’ve killed women before. That never stopped you. Quit using that as an excuse. Why can’t you just put a round in the back of her head and be done with it? It’s easy. I went over my admittedly short list of memories of Christina Valentine. At first, I had my doubts about her capabilities as an operative, much more so when she was slated to be my second-in-command. My first instance of meeting her was at the detainment camp, where I breached the BMO Centre in a truthfully reaching bid to find the missing Shadow XO. When I eventually found her, she looked so frail, little, and weak. She was practically half-dead at that point. How could someone like her ever be of use in the team? Once or twice, I came close to voicing my concerns about her usefulness. I almost did, actually, but the girl didn’t give me much time to justify speaking out about it. From the get-go, she pulled her weight. I could see my concerns were misplaced from the first reconnaissance mission at the South Health Campus. She could kill. She thought like any C.O.S. operative and acted like what I would expect from an agent. Despite her clear discontent with some of my decisions, she followed my orders, at least initially. There wasn’t much left I could ask of anyone serving in my team. She was… capable, I’ll give her that. Beyond the job, Christina Valentine performed satisfactorily as well. For starters, she meshed with both Genel and Josh. Granted, the two of them were generally genial and welcoming, but they both seemed to just click with the new XO. Genel, in particular, seemed to bond with Christina quite well. Sometimes, I’d look at the two conversing and I could swear Genel looked truly happy. Almost like when we were younger. There was something so… curiously human and natural about Christina. Even now, after finding out what she did, I could still admit that. The way she got flustered while shopping for undergarments with me, or when she came to invite me to breakfast during New Year’s Day, or the way she seemed to light up when talking to those people we rescued from the hospital. In these ways, the two of us were a world apart. Who is she, really? Is she the compassionate, strong-willed woman who sought to help others these past two weeks? The one who patched me up when I got hurt? Is she the one who looked up at the stars with me and laughed genuinely while we chatted fleetingly about our personal lives? Or is she the one who’s been playing me from the beginning, hiding the truth from me? Is she still the one who set me on this path? The one who took Miyaku away from us? The Northstar file couldn’t have been a lie. The information was too detailed to be false. The dates matched up. The other information that didn’t outright clash against what I read from her C.O.S. file was accurate. Moreover, Christina herself admitted to her crimes. There was no question regarding her guilt anymore. But the way she took care of Shadow Team, even during her brief time with us, wasn’t that real as well? Was her behaviour – concern for us, adamance to save others, her slightly subtle approaches to get to know me – just a front? Where is the truth? Where do the lies stop? What do I believe? I’ve done so many terrible things. My mentor’s face flashed in my mind. It was strange, since she and Christina looked nothing alike. I fully expected to feel that dreadful wave of sickness sweep me again, but this time, the thought didn’t cause me to seize up or heave. Seeing Erin in the blackness of my closed eyelids still hurt, but with the pain came some modicum of clarity. I killed my brother that day to save myself. I pressed my palms harder into my eyelids, enough that the pressure became a little painful. You’ve done terrible things too, haven’t you? God damn it. Why did she have to tell me that? Be honest, Ian. Are the two of you really all that different? We are. Of course we are. I don’t kill innocent people because of orders. I don’t— Oh? Is that so? Yes! Yes, it’s true! It’s true, damn it! Then you’re forgetting something important, Reaper. More pressure continued to build against my eyelids. It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t coming from my palms pressing down on my face. I grabbed the pillow under my head, tore it from beneath me, and smashed it tightly against my face. I tried my usual slow breathing exercises even with a face full of pillow, trying to calm down. It often helped me into an easier mood, but tonight, it didn’t work. I wasn’t sure for how long I lay there, trying not to think when all I could do was just that. By the end of it, I was not only mentally exhausted, but thoroughly irritated as well from my inability to fall asleep. This was hardly my first sleepless night in the last four years, but this instance was infuriating because of what was scheduled for later this same day. I propped myself up on my elbows and reached over to turn the lamp on. As the gentle, yellowish glow illuminated the room, I directed my gaze to the digital clock sitting next to the lamp. Three-fifteen AM. I’d been lying here, unable to sleep with only my turbulent musings to count instead of sheep, for over two hours. “Screw it,” I muttered to myself, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I rubbed my eyes frustratedly, then rose to my feet and put on my boots. I left my room and made my way to the other prong of the T-shaped floor, where the ladies’ quarters were. I walked past the junction, then past Genel’s room, and stopped in front of the XO’s door. I lifted my fist, meaning to rap on the door, but hesitated at the last moment. What do I even say to her at this point? What else needed spelling out? She’d done wrong by me and Genel. She knew that and I knew that. Where do we go from here? Do I kill her? Do I forgive her? I can’t forgive her. Not now. Not for what she’d done. Not for who she stole. But could I kill her here, now? I vaguely realized I wasn’t carrying my sidearm or even a knife. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue as I didn’t need a weapon to kill a person. There were plenty of ways to end a life without using a gun or a blade… But the thought of wrapping my fingers and hands around her throat, taking the time to watch the light gradually fade from her auburn eyes, filled me with dread just as much as impatience. I touched my knuckles to the steel door, the cold surface bringing wakefulness to my senses that wasn’t there before. I don’t know. I knocked on the door three times. Though I exerted only a little force, the sound of my bones beating lightly against the metal sounded much too loud. The instant the metal clanked at the impact made by my knuckles, I wished I could turn back time and prevent myself from knocking. I waited, practically holding my breath, listening to the room beyond this steel door. It was a bit hard to hear anything past the thumping of my pulse in my ears and the sound of my own breathing, but I tried regardless. I waited five seconds, then ten. After that much waiting, I knocked again and waited another ten seconds before raising my voice a little to call through the door. “Valentine, it’s Knight. Can you open the door?” There was still no sign of movement on the other side of the door. I couldn’t feel any vibrations beneath my feet to signal the approach of footsteps. Neither were there any noises from within the room. Was she asleep? Or was she really having a freeze-out directed toward me? I attempted to raise her attention a third time, but the door remained closed. I took hold of the door handle and tried to turn it, surprising myself when it gave way without resistance. “I’m coming in,” I announced in a voice I was sure she would have heard if she was at all conscious. I turned the handle all the way and pushed the door inward until it was half-open. The room was dark. All the lights inside were turned off. The only illumination around was from the fluorescent lights out in the hallway reaching into the room. Even without stepping further into the quarters, I could see that the suite was empty, in more ways than one. The bed was made, its sheets set flat on the mattress and the pillows stacked neatly against the back wall. The desk was blatantly vacant, even unused, with no books, folders, or other items on the surface or the shelves above it. The closet was open, boasting a bare inventory. No clothes were inside, folded or hung. I finally stepped inside Christina’s quarters, flicking the light switch in the foyer to give me more light and a better look at the place. I walked over to the closet, stopping halfway to notice the plump garbage bag sitting against the adjacent wall, which was out of sight from the foyer. I bent down to undo the knot tying the bag shut, then peered inside. There was a pile of clothing inside. On top was a red sweater made of fleece. Almost instantly, I recalled that Christina herself wore it during one of our ops before the fiasco at Peter Lougheed Centre. The evening she and Genel went to CFB Calgary to do some recon, I believe that was. I lifted the red sweater off the pile, finding a peach thermal shirt beneath the sweater. Christina had worn this too, right before she was abducted. Confusion steadily rose in my gut as I went through shirt after sweater after undergarment inside the bag. Nearly all of them I recognized as Genel’s, but were on loan to Christina all this time. “Christina?” I called out to the room in the off chance that she was hiding somewhere I hadn’t checked yet, even though I could tell the suite was really empty. I looked behind me at the open washroom door across the suite, which was equally unoccupied. Maybe she’s at the mess hall, having a meal. Odd time to be up and eating, but these were hardly ordinary times, but… Why are all her clothes bagged up, then? I straightened up and turned to leave the suite, but before I could take more than a couple of steps, my wrist brace vibrated briefly. I lifted my right forearm and swiped at the black screen to bring my TACPAD out of standby. A popup box was displayed on the top left corner of the screen, showing two small icons next to one another: an envelope and a quarter note. An audio message. I tapped on the popup, which brought me an enlarged panel with icons to play, pause, or stop the recorded message. Before I could hit ‘play’, I noticed the file name in small white letters sitting at the top of the black background, above the sound wave: cos_014_20210113_0252.wav All audio messages made by C.O.S. operatives began with ‘cos’ in its file name by default. After the first underscore came the code number of the operative who recorded or sent the file. ‘014’ was Genel. Why was she sending me an audio message when we were both in Haven? I felt a slightly uneasy sensation beginning to wake in my stomach again. I tapped on the play icon and focused all my attention on the wirelessly linked earpiece in my left ear. The first sound to come out of the recording wasn’t a voice, but rather some scraping noises, like someone was fumbling with the recording device. Five seconds passed with nothing but the scraping to be heard before I made out a faint intake of breath. “Hello, Knight. It’s me, Christina.” I froze, momentarily forgetting to breathe myself. “I’m sure you’re at least wondering how I could be sending you this when I’ve lost my TACPAD days ago. The short of it is… I took Genel’s. Please tell her I’m sorry for what I did to her. I really didn’t have any other choice.” Genel. My blood chilled rapidly. I burst out of the room and jogged down the hallway to Genel’s quarters. As I was on the move, the message kept playing. “And… I’m sorry, Knight. I didn’t want to go without telling you one last time. I’m so sorry.” I pulled a black and grey backpack off the shelf and hurriedly grabbed some items off other racks and shelves in the armory: a pair of infrared goggles, some winter gloves, a face mask, a concealable Glock, an MP5 submachine gun, and enough ammo for both firearms. I put the backpack and the rest of my inventory in an open gun locker by the door in the shooting range and shut the locker so that my things were out of sight for now. I can’t exit the bunker without opening the bulkhead doors up the vehicle ramp. For that, I’ll need either one affiliated TACPAD, or access to the workstation in the hangar office. I could try my luck at overriding door security using the workstation in B1, but if I was going to pursue the prisoners and Rhodes, I was going to need real-time intelligence. After mulling it over a minute, I decided there was no other alternative. I needed a TACPAD. Taking into account my size and relative strength compared to that of everyone else’s. I knew there was no way I could overpower Josh. Even considering him was laughable enough. He probably weighed three times my mass. Knight was out of the question as well – he’d no doubt shut me down in a melee situation. I hardly forgot how easily he terminated a soldier with only his hands and a knife during our first op together. Even injured, he would still pose too large a resistance. Besides, I didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all him. That left Genel. She was slightly taller than me, built more sturdily but still within reasonable sizes for me to subdue. She was my only shot. I searched the drawers behind the gunsmith’s counter until I found a box of zip ties. I grabbed a handful and put them into the pocket of my cargo pants. I left the armory and took the elevator down to B3, where the quarters were. As the elevator doors slid shut and the cab descended to the bottom sublevel, I hastily tried to think of other ways to pull this off without harming Genel even a little. If she was asleep, I could always just take her TACPAD without her knowing. But it had only been over fifteen minutes since I stormed out of the Command Room. I didn’t know if Genel was the type to doze off that quickly. I wasn’t even sure if she had returned to her room yet. Moreover, from what I’d heard about her, she’d been in the Army longer than I’d been in the C.O.S. She had the upper hand in terms of combat experience, so this could backfire on me horribly. Which means a surprise is the only way I could go about this. She wouldn’t expect it from me. The elevator doors eventually opened, depositing me to the third sublevel. I took a right turn at the junction and kept walking until I was at the door marked with ‘G. Martinez’ on the outside. I took some deep breaths before knocking on the metal door. My doubts about her presence in her room were relieved when the door swung inward and I was met with Genel herself. She seemed to be just about ready for bed, since she was down to a black top and shorts. I noticed the sterile bandages wound around her left shoulder from where Knight’s knife had been embedded in her. She immediately mellowed considerably upon seeing me. “Chrissy,” she said, opening the door even more to expose all of her body. “Hi. Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I wish there was another way, I really do, but—” “I get it, Genel,” I said, feigning a resigned sigh. She fixed me with a tender stare. “How are you? Why are you here?” “I’m… uhh, a bit short on clean shirts. Just for sleeping. Do you have any you can spare?” “Oh. Umm, okay. Let me check.” Genel turned around and retreated further into her room. I discreetly followed her, closing the door behind me as I went. She opened her closet and began rummaging through the folded clothes on the top shelf. I noted, as I was creeping up behind her, that she was wearing her brace around her left forearm still, her TACPAD docked in it. I waited probably twenty seconds before she eventually pulled down a plain white T-shirt. “Here, this should do you for—” Just as she completed a one hundred eighty degree turn to face me with the shirt in hand, I made a tight fist and lunged at her. As I’d hoped, she had no time to react to my sudden movement. I connected my fist with her solar plexus, just below her breast but right above her stomach. I put enough force behind the punch to send her reeling backward, but not enough that I could seriously injure her. Genel, stunned by the sudden attack, doubled over slightly, heaving for breath. I wasted no time in getting behind her and wrapping my right arm around her neck and placing my left hand behind her head. Her hands flew up to my choking arm as I squeezed it against the sides of her neck while pushing her head toward my right arm. She beat lightly against my arm for a second, clearly confused, before attempting to pry me off with more serious force. As I kept applying pressure, Genel flailed and tapped me frantically on the forearm. “What… are… you… doing?” she managed to gasp weakly, now trying to buck me off like she was a horse. Even as both our bodies swung from side to side and my shoulders and back banged against the walls and closet from Genel’s struggling, I locked my arm firmly around her neck. As long as I had a hold around her neck, she was free to toss me about whichever way. Genel’s struggles and thrashing seemed to last minutes, even though it couldn’t have been more than eight or nine seconds. She’d managed to ram me against two walls, her closet, and the edge of her desk before I felt her strength ebbing finally. “Chris…sy…” she choked out feebly, now resorting to digging her nails into my skin. She was rapidly losing fight in my arms. “I’m sorry, Genel,” I huffed in her ear, panting from the effort required to stay latched to her. I squeezed just a little bit harder. “I have to do this. I have to. I’m sorry.” After two seconds, Genel’s arms went limp at her sides, and her whole body slackened entirely, such that I was suddenly struggling to hold her up rather than in place. When I was certain she was really unconscious and not just faking – her struggling certainly lasted long enough, anyway – I promptly let her neck go and carefully lowered her to the floor. Before I dug the zip ties out of my pocket, I quickly placed a couple of fingers to her neck, close to her jaw. I found her carotid artery immediately. A strong, rapid pulsing responded to my touch. Definitely tachycardic, but also fortunately present. I had no time to indulge in my relief at not having hurt her any more than I had to. A person knocked unconscious with a blood choke would regain consciousness within half a minute in most cases. I hadn’t restricted her blood flow that long, either. If I had, I would have done some lasting damage to her. I snatched up the zip ties from my pocket and quickly got to work securing Genel’s arms behind her back, rolling her on to her belly as I did. By the time she began groaning softly and stirring seconds later, I was already halfway through binding her ankles together. I slipped my arms under hers from behind and hauled her to her feet with some difficulty. She was by no means too heavy, but because of my slight frame, it took me a few moments to bring her bulk up on the bed. “Chrissy… Chrissy?” she mumbled, still hazy from the effects of being subdued. I lifted her legs to the mattress and rolled her over closer to the middle of the bed, partly on her side and partly on her back. “Still here, Genel,” I told her, trying to sound calm as I went over to pick up the white shirt she had dropped on the floor by the closet. “Wha… What are you… doing?” “I need to help those prisoners being taken by Northstar this morning. I need your TACPAD.” “Chrissy,” she said sluggishly, “you can’t. You’re… not going to help anyone like this. All by yourself. Please, don’t.” “I have to try, Genel.” I made my way back to the edge of her bed and molded the shirt into a thinner, streamlined shape, and draped it around Genel’s head, making her bite into the cloth. “I can’t leave those people behind.” Genel seemed to plead incoherently into her gag as I tied the shirt securely at the back of her head. After ensuring she would remain relatively quiet for a while, I reached over and took her TACPAD out of her wrist brace. She tried to shout something, but her gag stifled it to a low whine. I pocketed her TACPAD after briefly checking it over – it was still in lockdown mode, which upped encryptions and general defences to the highest level. This meant it couldn’t be tracked or penetrated remotely by outside sources. Genel tried to frantically tell me something again, though her words he remained indecipherable thanks to the cloth in her mouth. I knelt beside the bed to put my face on her level. “Don’t worry. I’ll purge your TACPAD in an emergency. I promise. No one else will pay for my mistakes.” Her head turned from side to side vigorously, her eyes wide and pleading. She kept shaking her head, trying to speak through the gag. I watched her a moment before relenting. “Promise you won’t scream?” She appeared to hesitate, then her head bobbed vertically. I reluctantly pulled the gag down below her mouth, allowing her one last chance to speak to me. “Chrissy,” she said, slightly out of breath, “listen to me. You can’t do this. By now you’ll be rushing like mad to save them. You don’t even have a plan, do you?” “I’ll come up with something.” “That’s not an excuse.” “I don’t care.” “Please. I’m asking you, as your friend—” “I’m not your friend,” I told her sternly. “I have no right to be your friend. Nor Josh’s, nor Knight’s. Not for what I did to you years ago. And for what happened to the 41 CBGs.” “Chrissy, I don’t blame you for that.” “You should. You really should, Genel. All of you would sleep better if you did.” “If you do this, you’ll be alone. You’re going to get yourself killed.” I inhaled slowly, surprising myself by how calm I felt. “If so, then maybe that’s for the best.” “Do you even hear yourself?” “I do. I’ve been hearing myself say that for four years now. All I know is, I can’t stand by while others suffer when I can still do something about it.” “You’re not thinking clearly,” Genel said, visibly struggling against her zip ties. “Just… untie me. Cut me loose. Let’s talk about this, okay? I’ll listen to you, I swear. You can talk my ears off as long as you need to.” “Unfortunately, those civvies don’t have that long, Genel. I have to go. Now, open your mouth.” She pursed her lips tightly, a defiant expression settling on her face. She shook her head gravely. “Open up, Genel,” I repeated, hardening my voice. “Don’t make this even harder.” Genel stared back at me silently before finally parting her lips. Unfortunately, something managed to slip past them. “IAN!” she screamed in an abruptly clamorous voice. “JOSH! HELP! GUYS—!” I quickly shoved the gag back into her mouth while she was bellowing for help, hastily tightening the shirt tied around her head. Her shouts tapered off to muffled begging. I let out a sigh of relief once I’d gagged her again, then stood up and looked down at Genel a final time. “For what it’s worth,” I said to her, taking a step toward the door, “I’m glad I got to meet you guys. Even if I wasn’t here long… I still liked being part of Shadow.” Genel shook her head again, trying to get words past her vocal restraint. I smiled a little. “If I manage to pull this off, please take care of those civilians. And if I don’t make it back… just know I’m sorry, Genel. And thank you. For everything.” I turned my back on her and left the room, shutting the door without locking it. The rest of the team would find Genel in a few hours. Until then, I could act without worrying about Shadow Team. By the time I managed to leave Haven, it was nearly two-thirty in the morning. I double-checked and triple-checked my gear to make sure I had everything I could possibly need, since there was a high likelihood I wouldn’t be coming back to the bunker again. I grabbed some extra clothes for warmth, a bit of food and water from the mess hall – careful not to wake the slumbering Special Forces soldiers who’d made it their temporary quarters – and then when I was all set headed up to the vehicle hangar. I took one of the LUV keys from the hangar office, found the utility vehicle paired to it, and left Haven. My concerns about possibly running into US Army vehicle patrols and checkpoints were alleviated somewhat, thanks to the real-time satellite feed provided for by Genel’s TACPAD. It was a huge step-up from the standard GPS, as I could plan ahead of time and respond quickly to any hostile presence along my route. I took about a quarter of an hour mapping out my best route to the Calgary Stampede once I was reasonably far from Haven: a partially straight shot through 17th Avenue from eastern Calgary, pushing west toward the Stampede. There were plenty of side streets and suburban neighbourhood thoroughfares for me to hide my vehicle or detour around the various checkpoints set along the highway. Actually making my way there was a little more difficult. I had to constantly keep checking the feed every half a minute or so just in case enemy positions had shifted. The mental toll of doing just that was considerable. My head actually began to throb dully once I’d crossed the Bow River and reached the neighbourhoods of Inglewood, Mills Estate, and Ramsay, all of which were situated east of the Calgary Stampede. Here, the density of enemy patrols and checkpoints nearly doubled, forcing me to stay away from main thoroughfares like Blackfoot Trail and 9th Avenue. I spent minimal time on roads like these and did my best to keep to neighbourhood streets, back alleys, and train tracks until I reached the community of Ramsay, which was just on the other side of the comparatively smaller Elbow River from the Stampede grounds. I parked the LUV on Salisbury Street, just a few strides from Scotsman’s Hill, a bluff that gave striking views of skyscrapers and landmarks of the downtown area from outside the core. I grabbed all of my gear from the vehicle; I wouldn’t be needing the LUV now. I crossed the empty street and stood at the railing on the opposite side, where the land dipped sharply about thirty metres. The equally deserted Elbow River Pathway ran directly below me, snaking alongside the river. On brighter, warmer days, this pathway usually boasted being a social area for joggers and cyclists, as well as picnickers. The view from this hill was lovely, even if for just a moment while I allowed my mind to drift freely – the downtown area was still being supplied by electricity, so the many towering buildings in the distance all stood with small pinpricks of light up and down its sides. A cold winter breeze swept past me, stinging my cheeks and practically freezing some moisture that had gathered in my eyes sometime during my reverie. Though my side still hurt a bit thanks to my mending ribs, a different, dull aching filled my chest. I bit down on my lip, suppressing a sob without thinking to. For some reason, my mind conjured the faces of my former teammates. Standing here, gazing at the colourful, vibrant lights in the early winter morning, I hesitantly, selfishly wished the four of us could have shared this view at least once. Selfishly, despite not being worthy of their kindness, I wished from the bottom of my heart that they were here with me. Josh, Genel… Ian. Since when did I start missing other people apart from my family? It was a bit funny; I’d spent a much longer time being part of Glacier Team, but compared to Shadow, its members never quite stirred this much fondness in me. I wasn’t entirely stupid – I knew my chances of saving those sixty civilians from Rhodes, Northstar, and the US Army were somewhere between slim and nil. Numbers alone put me sorely on the lighter side of the scales. Consequently, the chances of me failing and dying while doing this were staggeringly high. I might not even be alive another six hours. The Reaper might be able to pull something like this off easily, but I was no legendary C.O.S. agent. I was just… me. But. I slapped my gloved hands against my cheeks hard, then dragged the sleeve of my jacket over my eyes to wipe away the solidifying tears. I grit my teeth against the frigid wind. I need to do this. If I can save them somehow, it doesn’t matter if I die doing it. For all the wrong I’d done, there were worse ways to live. Or die. If today was my last day alive, then maybe I’d lived long enough already. I damn near tackled Genel’s quarters’ door the instant my hand reached the door handle. When I stumbled inside, my stomach dropped. Genel was lying on her side, facing the door. Her ankles appeared to be secured by cable ties. Her arms were at her back, presumably also bound by another set of ties. Dressed in a rather thin tank top and shorts, and complete with a gag in her mouth, for a moment I wondered if I’d mistakenly walked into some kind of self-pleasure session that I didn’t understand and wasn’t supposed to see. When she began struggling and attempting to talk frantically through the shirt in her mouth, though, I returned to the initial idea I had of this being something else. “Oh shit,” I swore, running over to her bed. I reached for my knife at my hip before realizing that I wasn’t carrying with me. Genel continued to speak incoherently, jerking her head repeatedly in the direction of her desk. “Hroahherrr…!” she said impatiently. “Hroaahherr…!” I reached over and pulled down her gag. “What the hell happened?” “Drawer,” she told me, sweat pouring down one temple to the other. “I have a knife in my desk drawer.” I went over to her desk and yanked open the drawer. A red, Canada-themed Swiss Army-style knife came clattering to the front atop some file folders. I snatched it up, brought out the miniature blade, and began hacking away at the ties around Genel’s ankles. “How did this happen to you?” I demanded as the cable holding her legs in place snapped in two. “Chrissy. She came here and took me by surprise,” she replied ruefully as I helped her sit up. “She wanted my TACPAD.” I reached around and severed the cable ties holding her wrists together. As the ties broke, I noticed the dock of her wrist brace was indeed empty. I put the Swiss Army knife down on the mattress, beside Genel. She rubbed her one exposed wrist. “You okay? Did she… cut you anywhere? Or…” She shook her head, bringing a hand to her solar plexus. “No. Just knocked the wind out of me and put me to sleep for a bit. Enough to truss me up.” “I… see.” Genel glanced at me, her eyebrows raised. “Hmm? You don’t seem angry.” “Huh? I’m… I am,” I said, rearing my head slightly. “It’s just—” I trailed off, my mind wandering back to Christina. She really attacked Genel? “Never mind that,” I said dismissively, standing up straight. “What did she say?” “She’s going for those sixty civilians scheduled to be shipped out of the city this morning. By herself.” I suppressed a sigh of frustration. “She’d really go this far—?” “Okay, Ian,” Genel sighed as well, looking up at me seriously. “What are you going to do about this?” “You’re really asking me?” “You’re the leader, aren’t you?” “When it suits you.” Genel jumped up to her feet and grabbed the front of my shirt to shake me a little violently. She bared her teeth at me and glared into my eyes. “Ugh! Enough of your lip already!” she shouted in my face. “What do we do?” I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking. After a while, I said, “Our priority remains to be the assault in a few hours. Do you understand that, Genel?” She lowered her head slightly, her grip on my shirt loosening somewhat. “…I know.” I stared at her in silence for a bit longer, then sighed again. “All right,” I said in resignation. “I’m going to need your help with something, then.” She let go of me completely, perking up quickly. “What is it?” “Get in touch with Captain Arellano. Have him put a hold on approaching the city. Then I want you on comms supporting me.” I began walking toward the door. Halfway out of the room, Genel stopped me. “Do you really mean that?” “Mean what?” I asked, not looking at her. “We’re going after Chrissy?” I hesitated. What are you doing? You know damn well this is too reckless, even for you. You’re going to endanger the mission because of her? Why? Shouldn’t she just die for what she’s done? Then just let her do it herself! Walk away from this, Ian. I balled my hands into fists at my sides. God damn it. Even so… “I’m sorry, Knight.” You don’t get to do that. “I didn’t want to go without telling you one last time.” You don’t get to leave like that. Not until you’ve paid for what you’ve done. “Yeah,” I answered Genel finally. “I’ll go after her.” “What about the downtown attack later?” “We’re postponing that a bit. Tell Arellano to keep his forces hidden. Hell, tell him to pull back a little. I don’t want them being intercepted before we can attack.” “Ian?” “What?” “Are we going to save her? And the civvies?” “First of all, there is no ‘we’ here. I’m doing this by myself. Secondly… this is hardly a structured plan. We’ll save who we can, but I’m prioritizing Christina.” Genel seemed to pause at this. “Just to kill her later?” “…No. But it’s got to be me.” “Why?” “Because I’m the only one who can set her straight.” Genel jogged over to me and went around me, looking subtly shocked. “You’re the only one who can what?” “Never mind. Let’s just say that I have plenty of things to tell that bullheaded woman still. And she can’t listen to each word if she’s dead.” She took a step back. “You’re really not going to off her? Do you mean that?” “Don’t wear it out. I didn’t say I forgave her. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Get to your job and I’ll do mine.” As I walked past her, she scoffed. “You two are more alike than you think.” I whirled halfway to glance at her. “We are not!” “Oh yes, you are,” Genel said firmly. “You both try harder than either of you have to. You think you should do everything yourself, just like she does now.” I sighed yet again. This conversation alone was already sapping the energy I needed to carry out this insanity. “Listen, we’re wasting time. The sooner you can update Arellano, the sooner you can help me find Christina.” “We’re a team, Ian. You can argue all you want, but that’s a fact. Christina is my friend, too. You’re going to need help with you. We need Josh, too.” “No, Genel. In the event this goes wrong, I won’t have all of Shadow Team going down before the downtown push. I need you and Josh to stay here, just in case.” I tried to walk around her, but the second woman to bar my path in the last couple of hours threw her arms out to stop me, looking just as infuriatingly determined. “We’re doing this as a team, Ian.” I raked my scalp with my fingertips. “Agh, fine! Just update Arellano, quickly. I’ll wake up Josh. And grab King and her team. They need to know.” I brushed past her outstretched arm, this time being allowed to exit. “Regardless, this is inconvenient,” Warrant Officer Jacobs said when we’d gathered in the Command Room ten minutes later and informed everyone else about Christina’s reckless decision. “I’m not arguing with that,” I said, facing everyone from the end of the table. “That’s why I’m offering everyone here a choice, Shadows and Julietts alike. I won’t hold it against anyone who decides to cut one of ours loose.” I glanced toward Genel. I already knew where she stood on the issue, but I wanted to make sure. “Archer.” “I’m going after Angel.” I nodded reluctantly, then turned to Josh. “Goliath?” He didn’t even hesitate. “Going after Angel.” “Have you even thought this through?” “Boss, if I remember correctly, the Ospreys coming to pick up the civs are scheduled to meet up with Hornet by 0500. It’s now… 0338. There isn’t any time left to deliberate this at depth. All I know is – despite your, err, personal stuff – Angel’s still a Shadow to me. I vote we find her and do what we can.” “…All right. Shadow Team is committed to finding our XO.” I then turned my attention to the CSOR personnel on the other side of the table. “King, none of you have to go. I need to remind you of that. This has nothing to do with you. This is a… personal matter. To be frank, I’d rather you three stayed to spearhead the downtown assault as originally planned.” King glanced back at her two teammates just behind her. I watched Jacobs run his hand over his mouth thoughtfully, and Reid’s shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. King looked the most animated of the group, appearing to be pitching some in-the-moment speech to her team. In the end, the two men gave their leader tiny nods. Turning back to me, King gave me her answer. “Reaper, I just want to say for the record that… your team’s decision greatly endangers our mission of liberating Calgary. When it comes down to it, that’s our only mission here. That’s what Command ultimately ordered us to carry out. With six of us, we still have a good shot at pulling this assault off and rooting out the US Army’s CO here. If all of us go and we all bite the dust, there’s a very real chance that the Canadian Army will be overrun without any support from local assets. You know that, right?” I took a breath, wondering if I was past the point of no return now. This was illogical. Even if we could find Christina, that doesn’t mean we could bring her back without suffering casualties. We could lose one of us, or two. Or three. Worst case scenario, all six of us get killed because of this decision to choose one over tens or hundreds of thousands of people incarcerated here. Even still, I nodded at King. “I’ll take responsibility if this goes south. We’ll let C.O.S. Command know that… Knight made a call, and he made a bad one. None of you have to take this fall.” Josh shook his head slightly. “Come on, man. Isn’t that a bit too pessimistic now?” “No, it’s being realistic. If – not saying it’s going to happen, but if – all six of us go down out there and the military reinforcing us fails their objective because of the lack of our support, the higher-ups will be looking for a cause. It’s not fair to you, or Archer, or King and her team to be blamed for that. Angel’s actions are… my fault, at least in part. I could have stopped her from going as far as attacking Archer and going off to save dozens all by herself with no backup. That’s on me.” The room fell deathly silent for a moment. I looked back to King again. “King, none of you have to go with us. It’s okay if you stay here and carry out the assault without us. But for me, I’m not leaving her out there. She’s a pain in the ass and a personal matter, but she’s—” I broke off abruptly, almost afraid of what I was about to say. “—she’s still one of us. I’m not leaving one of ours to die.” I could practically feel Genel staring to the side at this, but I kept my eyes on King. The leader of the Special Forces team held my gaze for a few seconds, before eventually lifting her arms to her sides in a sort of shrugging gesture. A small, resigned smile appeared on her lips. “Well, you’re nothing if not consistent, Grim Reaper. I was halfway ready to be disappointed, but I see there wasn’t a need to be. All right, then. We’re with you.” “You’re sure?” I asked her, half wishing she’d turn back on her decision. “Heh. I said I owed you for Crowsnest, right?” Angela King smirked and stuck the tip of her tongue out the corner of her mouth. “As far as I can tell, our debt’s not paid yet.” “Leaving a buddy behind doesn’t sit right with us, anyhow,” Jacobs added. “Just tell us what to do, Reaper,” Reid said, a sliver of a smile hanging at his lips. I glanced back at Genel and Josh. The two of them gave me synchronized nods, to which I drew in a steadying breath. This was the point of no return. I glanced at my TACPAD to check the time. It was now 0344. The Northstar birds were going to touch down in less than an hour. Hornet, the civilian prisoners, and possibly even Christina were going to either be away or clash in a little over one hour. “Okay.” I jerked my head toward Josh. “Goliath, I want you to get the Black Hawk ready for flight. We don’t have enough time to travel by land anymore. Gas it up, load weapons and ammo, get it outfitted for aerial assault and support. No sense not pulling out all the stops now.” “Aye aye, boss,” Josh said, beginning to head out the room. ”I could use a hand, though.” I gestured toward Reid and Jacobs. “Can you guys help him?” “Sure thing,” Jacobs replied promptly. “Lead on, Goliath.” “This way, gents.” The three of them left the room. “All right, Grim Reaper, what about me?” King added. “Small arms gear,” I answered. “Make sure everyone has enough ammo for infantry combat. Load everything into the chopper. Stick to medium-range weaponry; we’ll be fighting in more open spaces more likely than close quarters. Get to it.” “Roger that.” King gave me a salute and hustled off to take care of her responsibilities. “Ian, what do you want me to do?” Genel asked when the two of us were the only ones left. I took my TACPAD out of my brace and held it out to her. “Here. Feel free to log me out. I need you to find Christina. Use anything you have to locate her.” She took my TACPAD. “Okay. My TACPAD was on lockdown mode, though, so functionally, unless Chrissy turns off that mode, it’s going to be untraceable.” “So it’s impossible to find her?” Genel bit her lower lip thoughtfully. “Not entirely. I’ve made a couple of customizations to that particular device that I can try to manipulate remotely to give us some leads.” “Customizations?” I repeated suspiciously. “Yeah. Not C.O.S. sanctioned ones, mind you, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep this on the down-low. It’s not a sure thing, though: if Chrissy purges my TACPAD before I can take advantage of my tweaks, then she’s pretty much gone.” “The hurry. We need to be in the air in less than thirty minutes.” Genel nodded, placing my TACPAD into her forearm brace. “What about you? What are you going to do?” I glanced over my shoulder at the consoles behind me. “Going to make an audio file. For the record. In case all this fails.” “You’re really fine with this? Taking the blame, I mean?” “Given my status, I’m the least likely to be punished too heavily by the higher-ups if everything goes to hell. Besides, this really is my decision. I’d be going with or without you.” She smiled a little. “Chrissy’s still one of us, huh?” “Genel? Not the time. Go.” She raised her hands in surrender. “All right, all right. I’m going. Meet you up at the hangar in a few.” She left the room. When I was completely alone, I settled in one of the two chairs in front of a PC and brought up the audio recorder application. I put on the linked headset with a microphone. This was more than just about keeping Christina alive. Truth be told, that was the easier part, as crazy as that sounds. No, this was also about saving her from herself. I clicked on the icon to start a recording. And only I could do it. “About a half-hour out from Calgary International, Hornet. No problems over here. We’ll be right on schedule.” “Copy, Artemis One. I’m almost up to the collection point. Going to grab the civvies and then head to the RV. See you soon. Out.” I listened silently to the brief conversation between Rhodes and the Northstar pilot while keeping my eyes on the Stampede grounds from across the Elbow River. Rhodes was on his way here, then. I gazed out at the grounds, which was basically the interior parking lot of the Stampede. Perhaps it was because I was on the outside looking in this time, but there seemed to be more cages than I remembered: the men and women were still being confined away from each other, though their inhumane living conditions were hardly any different. The women – numbering easily over five hundred or even a thousand – were all still being held at the northern part of the grounds by the BMO Centre and the Cowboys Casino. The men, numbering slightly more than women, were incarcerated to the south, were by the Big Four Building and the Nutrien Western Event Centre. Thanks to the powerful magnification of the special infrared goggles I was wearing, I could zoom in on each exhausted, frightened, and broken face among the sea of many others. I watched as men and women, regardless of age, wept with many others as they huddled together in their cages below. Every now and then, my eyes happened upon a cage that had one or two of its five or so occupants not moving, heads bowed and faces frozen with eyes open. Those poor souls didn’t seem to be alive anymore, yet the guards patrolling the holding areas didn’t seem to be concerned about properly handling the bodies to spare the prisoners still alive from having to share space with corpses. Both the ones whose suffering had ceased and those still clinging to life in desperation filled the Stampede. Both kinds of people made my chest feel tight just looking at them. Sometime during my grim reconnaissance, I began to count those who appeared deceased. As the number of the dead grew, so too did my regret and shame. Why was I spared, while all of them left behind? Why them? Why not me? I lifted the goggles from my eyes, not sure I could handle seeing more pain and suffering. At the same time, I felt a venomous sense of self-loathing from thinking I had any right to look away. I brought a hand up to my mouth and struggled to take deep breaths. Losing my composure now would benefit no one. I looked back down on Genel’s TACPAD and brought up the real-time satellite feed again. I panned over to the south and west of the Stampede and began scanning the streets for any processions of vehicles nearby. Before I could find any convoys, the screen flickered a few times, cutting fleetingly to black before coming back on. After the last flicker, the real-time feed seemed to freeze. What? I tapped on the screen. Nothing happened. I dragged my fingertip across the screen to navigate the feed. Still nothing. The feed stayed frozen, and apparently so did the device itself. “Damn it. No, no, no,” I muttered, trying to tap on the exit or minimize functions without success. Abruptly, the screen cut out of the real-time feed and went back to the home screen. A popup box appeared without warning, brandishing two words underneath a red-and-white exclamation point: INTRUSION DETECTED My heart jumped up my throat. Who was doing that? Was it Rhodes? Did he get enough out of my TACPAD to remotely access Genel’s and everyone else’s? I hurriedly swiped the popup away and tapped on the ‘PURGE’ icon. Just as the first of several ‘are you sure’ prompts appeared, the screen cut to black again. This time, the screen stayed off. “Shit,” I cursed at the device, pulling it out of the dock and trying the power and emergency reset buttons on the sides. Though I was hoping for the device to reboot, I was still surprised when the device’s screen lit up to a gray screen with a white ‘rebooting’ icon of a turning hourglass at its center. When the words, ‘Verified: Martinez, Angenel, CODE 0-1-4’ crawled across the screen, I breathed a sigh of relief. After the home screen returned, I started to worry again. What just happened? I’d never had my TACPAD act up like that. These devices were state-of-the-art, with top-notch security to protect against both physical and remote intrusions. In terms of general performance, TACPADs were better than even the latest smartphones available. If anyone could cause any TACPAD to glitch out like that, they knew how to breach its defenses. It was either Rhodes picking Shadow Team for information, or— The home screen was suddenly taken up by a comms window, and in the middle of it were three numbers: 0-5-7 My breath caught in my throat. Lockdown mode prevented anyone from tracking the TACPAD’s location, even other C.O.S. operatives. However, anyone who has the locked down TACPAD’s contact details could still reach out for a call. That meant other TACPADs. I let the caller ring me, wanting to talk to him one last time. I’d already left him an audio message saying everything I wanted to tell him, so I didn’t need to pick up. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to hear his voice another time. It was strange. Knowing him, he’d probably chew me out for what I did to Genel, and what I was doing now. I’d probably not get a word in before he barrages me with anger. But still… My finger almost tapped on the icon to accept the call. Almost. I waited until the window closed automatically, then reopened the channel Genel had set up to monitor Rhodes’ communications. I put the goggles back on and redirected my gaze back toward the Stampede, where I picked up some movement near the intersection to the northeast of the Cowboys Casino. There was a ragged procession of prisoners making their way north along Olympic Way, being herded along by a dozen armed soldiers. The group of about seventy or so stopped at the intersection of Olympic Way and 12th Avenue. The prisoners were all underdressed for the current temperature. Many of them appeared barely able to even stand. It looked like a typical prisoner transfer save for the lack of the chains linking everyone’s legs and arms together. I zoomed in with my goggles. About half of the civilians on the sidewalk were at least of age, while the other half were clearly teenagers and children – some as young as five. The younger ones seemed a little more dressed than the rest, some with clothes clearly belonging to people older than them, but still… these were no conditions for them to be outside. Some of the older prisoners appeared to be ushering the younger ones along. Notably, none of the civilians being herded by the soldiers appeared to be older than their mid-twenties. That’s them. Has to be. As if on cue, the channel came to life again. Rhodes’ silky voice filled the line. “US Army, this is Hornet. Now entering the Stampede from the southern gate. ETA: three mikes.” I turned my head toward the south of the Grandstand building, past the men’s cages. Three military transport trucks trundled past the open gates that Shadow Team had used as an exfil point when they rescued me. Two Humvees and one Stryker trailed behind the three transport trucks. Another two Humvees and one more Stryker led the armoured convoy. This was it. Heavy security detail, heading up toward where the prisoners were waiting on the other end of the grounds. I checked my gear and finally made my way down the hill. Heimdall stepped out of the US Army Humvee when the convoy had come to a halt near the intersection of Olympic Way and 12th Avenue. He stood still and watched several Army infantrymen from his Humvee and the other vehicles behind it jog over to the transport trucks in the middle of the line of vehicles parked by the sidewalk. As the prisoners waiting on the curb were herded on to the backs of the trucks, Heimdall sensed someone step up beside him. He glanced sideways to find Hornet observing the procession as well. “Sir,” he said, more out of respect than anything else. “There were supposed to be more of them,” Hornet commented, not looking all that pleased by this development. For a moment, Heimdall held off on responding, not quite sure how to answer. “How many more, sir?” he eventually asked. “At least another two hundred. I’m leaving with three-quarters less of that.” Heimdall was at a loss for responses again. “Guess there’s going to be a lot less brothers and sisters for you, then,” Hornet continued, his gaze still on the civilians being brought onto the trucks and the soldiers supervising them. There had to have been two prisoners for every one soldier standing guard nearby. “Sir?” Heimdall shot a questioning glance at Hornet again, not following the senior operative’s comments. Hornet pointed in the direction of the trucks. “Oh, Hayden didn’t tell you? Some of these girls and boys will end up being like you, Heimdall. I personally think Hayden’s wasting his time, but then again, I’m only a grunt when it comes down to it.” Heimdall redirected his gaze back to the trucks. “How many guinea pigs has Hayden used already back home, do you think?” Hornet asked, sounding almost casual, if a little impatient. “Guinea pigs, sir?” Heimdall was awarded a scowl. “Human beings, Heimdall. Or whatever they still call you. Do you know how many he’s gone through now? Trying to create more of you?” “I am not knowledgeable about this matter, sir.” Heimdall scoffed softly. “Of course you aren’t.” “Do you know, sir?” “Not exactly. But ‘too many’ would be about right. And how many breakthroughs has he had since he started?” “I was told there have been five, sir.” “Five,” Heimdall noted the dismissive, even callous sort of way Hornet seemed to speak. “Out of… what, five hundred? A thousand?” Heimdall did not reply. He had no answer to Hornet’s musings. “It was all a waste,” Hornet went on, sounding either angry or tired. Heimdall couldn’t tell which. “Sir, may I ask what you are trying to say?” Heimdall asked, looking at Hornet intently. Hornet finally looked straight at Heimdall, his expressing bordering chagrin. “I’m saying that if your performance is of any indication, then the project is a waste of time and resources.” Heimdall detected enough disdain in Hornet’s expression and tone to warrant an apology on Heimdall’s part, but not what else could be done to placate the senior mercenary. “I apologize, sir. Resistance in this city has been… more challenging to pacify than in the United States.” Hornet shut his eyes momentarily, looking rather regretful. “Well, whatever. It hardly matters now. In an hour, you and I will be done working together.” He walked off in the direction of the Humvee behind Heimdall’s. Heimdall watched him get into the front passenger seat and stare out the windshield with a rather glum expression. Heimdall turned his gaze back toward the trucks, where the last dozen or so prisoners were being loaded into the back of the third and last truck. Instead of his recent failures, what occupied his mind was what Hornet had told him about PROJECT LATCHKEY. Five successful subjects out of as many as a thousand candidates. That made the success rate a measly 0.05 percent. Prior to this moment, he hadn’t given much thought about the circumstances of his status and existence. All he was taught to do was to follow orders. But hearing that he was part of those small odds felt peculiar to him. Everything about the project was rather secretive, even if he was technically part and product of it. Would the four other subjects existing currently have done a better job here had someone else been sent in Heimdall’s place? Perhaps. Heimdall was, after all, relatively new to his status as a successful LATCHKEY subject. He did not feel remorse, nor helplessness, nor regret, nor shame at his recent performance in the field. All he knew was that the mission was not yet completed. Until then, he had to keep working to finish it. “She’s still not picking up,” Genel said over comms as the helicopter powered over Southeast Calgary. “That’s fine for now. You still have a lock on her position?” I asked over the drone of the aircraft engine, looking out the starboard window at the pockets of lit areas below. Some areas down there in southern Calgary were still being supplied with electricity, while some others were not. “Yeah. My little hack worked. She’s heading north along Deerfoot Trail. At the rate she’s moving, she’s going to reach Calgary International in about ten minutes.” “She hitched a ride with the armed convoy, then.” I turned toward the cockpit, where Josh was piloting our chopper with King acting as navigator and co-pilot beside him. “Goliath, how are we looking?” He kept his hands on the flight stick and his eyes out the front of the aircraft. “Well, so far it looks like the US Army doesn’t have any anti-air defenses. Not sure about at the airport, though.” “I took a look using the sat feed,” Genel said, checking her sidearm. “I didn’t see anything like that. I hope they have minimal AA weaponry. We’re going into this almost half-cocked.” “Right,” I said in agreement. I’d given everyone on board a choice to back out of this suicidal move, and no one had backed down. It was impossible not to worry and wonder if I’d just sentenced everyone to the grave. “We going to make it, Goliath?” Sergeant Ethan Reid asked from the seat across from me, beside Genel. “I’m gunning this bird as much as I can,” Josh answered. “At current speed, we’ll just barely make it at the same time as the convoy.” “All right. When we get there, I want all eyes open for those Northstar V-22s. Assuming we can get to those before the prisoners are loaded on board, I want them grounded,” I said over the joint CSOR-Shadow Channel. “King, you checked on the weapons systems?” “ESSS (external stores support system) is green,” Goliath’s co-pilot reported promptly. “All sixteen Hellfire missiles are good to go. Bit overkill for just three Ospreys, if you ask me.” “Let’s not forget any armoured vehicles guarding the convoy,” Warrant Officer Caleb Jacobs piped up beside me. “Good chance we’ll have to contend with those Strykers.” “Do not fire on LAVs while the transport trucks are nearby,” I told Josh. “I want to minimize collateral.” “Roger that, boss.” “As soon as we locate the V-22s and neutralize them, King, Reid… you know what to do?” “Secure land transportation for the civvies,” King answered crisply. “Better if we get to fast-rope in somewhere with vehicles nearby.” “We’re playing this all by ear, so call out positions and stay sharp,” I told everyone. “This is… well, it’s a sloppy plan.” “Amen,” Jacobs said grimly. “Archer, you’re with me,” I said next, looking straight at the team sharpshooter. “Our priority is to locate Angel and secure as many civilians as possible. By then, hopefully King and Reid will have secured transport for everyone.” “Copy, Knight. I’ve got your back.” “Jacobs, stay on the bird. Man the M134 and be Goliath’s second set of eyes. Keep me and Archer covered as much as you can. We’ll be taking a lot of heat down there.” “Got it, Reaper,” the warrant officer replied. “We need to be in and out as fast as possible before reinforcements from downtown show up,” I continued. “I didn’t spot anything by way of air support on the US Army’s side yet in the past two weeks, but all the same, let’s not get complacent.” Just over five minutes later, just as the GPS on the worn TACPAD I was sporting placed us over the neighbourhood of Forest Lawn, Genel spoke up again. “My TACPAD’s signal just hit Airport Trail. Chris – Angel will be at the terminal in less than five.” I stifled a comment about whatever plans Christina might have up her sleeve. What could she expect to accomplish going up against such numbers all by herself? If all she wanted to do was indiscriminately murder US Army soldiers with no regard for her or the prisoner’s lives, this would make more sense. But if she wanted to save sixty civilians from being taken away to God knows where, this wasn’t going to work. She’d have better luck denying Northstar those prisoners if she blew up the transport trucks outright, as morbid as that would be. Christina, do you even have a plan? I was willing to bet she didn’t. This was part of her problems. You can’t save anyone on willpower alone, but she doesn’t seem to realize it. Sometime later, Josh spoke up on comms. “Coming up on Calgary International here. If we’re worried about AA defenses, now’s the time to argue against flying in.” Even though he wasn’t looking at me directly, I knew he was asking me if we should turn back or at least pause to think this through. This was all on me, after all: if we go down in a fireball from being hit by a missile, or get overwhelmed while on the ground, this was going to be in my hands. I’d be responsible for not only Shadow Team, but King’s team as well. “Grim Reaper, I’m not bailing on you guys. Just do your thing, and I’ll be right there with you. My guys, too.” I lifted my gaze and found King glancing back at me from the co-pilot’s seat. When our eyes met, she gave me a daredevil’s smirk. I glanced at Ethan Reid and Caleb Jacobs, who both nodded at me without saying anything else. Almost involuntarily, I looked at Genel too, who gave me a similar nod. Well, if we’re all still willing to do this… “All right,” I said, then pointed at both the port and starboard doors. “Reid, Jacobs, get on the M134s. Get ready to engage.” The two of them slid open both doors as the front-facing miniguns swung toward the port and starboard doors for crew operation. I looked out the starboard door over Jacobs’ shoulder as he knelt and readied the door gun. The lights on the runways steadily approached us. Beyond those, over by the aircraft gates, I saw them: Three Ospreys with blinking warning lights in red, waiting for the approaching convoy trundling toward them from the east. I flipped the safety off on my G36C rifle. |
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