Incursion

Chapter 4: Secrets

Knight and I reached Haven just before 2000 hours. I had been expecting us to be out conducting this operation for the whole night, so to be back within the safe confines of our hideout so soon – hardly even ‘bedtime’ standards for children – felt rather anticlimactic. We knew from the start that this operation would be strictly recon, but maybe my experience in the detainment camp had me subconsciously raring for a fight. I’d taken down only one enemy this evening… no, make that since this whole invasion began.

Knight drove the truck down the same ramp and parked the vehicle in the same spot that it was in before we left. We retrieved our backpacks from the backseat and walked the expanse of the hangar to get to the elevators. The two of us made our way to B2’s armory to deposit our gear.

As we removed our backpacks, vests, holsters, and weapons and placed them all on the counter, I thought about the prisoners I saw being loaded onto the trucks at the hospital. Where were they being taken? Why were even children as young as eight and nine years of age being given this ‘special’ treatment? Who’s pulling the strings here? As much as I despised the US soldiers for their treatment of civilians, I got the feeling that there was something else to this, someone behind the curtain using the US Army as a mere tool to advance some agenda.

I unclipped my thigh holster and put it on the counter alongside my vest, belt, and backpack. I was still thinking hard about the prisoners when I was jarred from my musings by a smooth, almost serene voice from behind me.

“Something on your mind?”

I absently knew that he was still in the same room as I was, but I nearly jumped all the same and whirled around to find Knight standing rather close to me, looking at me with his signature expression of calm obscurity.

“No, nothing,” I said reflexively, looking up at his eyes. One thing I found noteworthy about how he looks (at least to me) is that while from a distance Knight appears to simply look glazed over, up close he actually looks sharp and thoughtful instead of idle-minded. So while his thoughts are always difficult at best to decipher, he always seems to be looking into you rather than through you.

“That so?” he said with a subtly dubious edge, “All right. If you ever have something to share about the mission, do consider telling me. Perhaps there are things you pick up that I miss.”

This was strange. He sounded almost conversational, and he came to me first, asking for my thoughts. This was a notable contrast to his more reclusive approach to me up until now. Moreover, he conceded he may miss details that he hopes I would catch. Since he was the Reaper, I would have understood if he had a bit of a superior air that comes naturally with the mythic status, but in his case I actually found his readiness to acknowledge his shortcomings pleasantly surprising.

Maybe I did misjudge him, like Genel mentioned.

I nodded twice slightly, loosening up a little in his presence, which in my opinion was a significant development for me. “Understood.”

He continued to stare at me for a couple of seconds, then proceeded to surprise me again.

“Good work tonight, Christina.”

They were only four simple words that I’d heard before from different people, but coming from him those words filled me with a rather overwhelming sense of relief. It felt good to know I was doing my job right.

At the same time, this was the first instance of him calling me by my first name directly, while talking to me rather than about me. It didn’t change that I still preferred to be called ‘Chrissy’, but again coming from Knight, it felt like progress. It was also somehow embarrassing, judging by how warm in the face I felt when he said ‘Christina’.

“I-I didn’t do much tonight,” I stammered a little, looking away to the side a little, unable to help myself from breaking eye contact, “It was just sitting outside while someone else did the legwork.”

“Yes, and because you sat outside while someone else did the legwork, you were able to warn me of the lieutenant and Steele heading my way. It would have been… messy, if you weren’t where you were.”

I was no stranger to praise from superiors, but for whatever reason when they came from this man, they made me feel quite self-conscious and awkward.

“Th-Thank you sir – I mean Knight,” I involuntarily stiffened like a board and stood straight, struggling to stop being so embarrassed. I still couldn’t look him in the eyes.

Thankfully he became more businesslike at that point. “I’ll get to work on analyzing the intel we acquired. We also still have to stay on top of Archer’s and Goliath’s radio checks. Can I ask you to take over monitoring their status from 0100 until 0600?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You’re free until then.”

With that, he headed for the armory door and disappeared beyond it, presumably to post up in the Command Room. I stood there and watched him go, not altogether certain what to do with my next five hours.





After leaving my gear at the armory, I changed into a plain white T-shirt and one pair of leggings that Genel gave me and headed for the gym in level B3. After a bit of cardio and literal legwork, I had a shower and decided to catch a bit of sleep before 1 AM.

When 0045 came, I woke up thanks to my alarm clock, got dressed, and headed up to level B2. I got to the Command Room with five minutes to spare before the clock struck one.

When I entered the room, I found it as dark as it was yesterday during the briefing. The only sources of illumination were the two PC screens on the far end and the large monitor showing a satellite view of Calgary. At first glance I thought the room was empty, but as I approached the computers I saw that there was an outline of a head and neck above the silhouette of the office chair in front of the computer on the left.

“Knight?” I said tentatively and discreetly, approaching the stationary, silent figure in the chair.

When I reached the PC, I was surprised to find Knight with his eyes closed and his back slightly relaxed against the back of the chair. His lips were slightly parted and his hands dangled over the ends of the armrests. At first I worried he might have had a heart attack or something similar in this chair because of how deathly still he could be, but upon closer inspection I could see his shoulders rising and falling very minutely and rhythmically. I stifled a sigh of relief, confirming he was merely asleep.

Geez, I thought, if he was feeling tired he should have just come get me. He didn’t have to tough it out until one in the morning if he was sleepy. He’s going to catch cold dozing here in that questionable position…

I gazed at his face, oddly absorbed by how completely relaxed and serene he looked, It was actually intriguing to see this expression on his face, which was quite different from usual.

After looking at his face for a couple of seconds, I reached out to nudge his shoulder to rouse him. That was when my eyes passed over something peeking partly out of the long sleeve of Knight’s sweater.

Visible from just past the cuff of the sleeve, wrapped around his left wrist, was what looked like a bracelet, only instead of plastic or metal it was made from some kind of special thread. The cord, I suppose I’d call it, was a mixture of red, orange, blue, and white fibers woven together to form an elegant pattern that had a curious design that reminded me of some ancient Japanese artwork depicting elements of fire, water, and wind. The cord was wrapped snugly around Knight’s wrist with a total of three revolutions around his arm, and secured by a small metal clasp that could reasonably be bought from an arts-and-crafts store.

I stared at the colourful cord for a moment, finding it rather out of place – even a little effeminate – in the Reaper’s aesthetic. Seeing as how he often wore dark colours, this accessory was easily something I could think was out of character for him. But then, I was hardly an expert on his character to begin with, so maybe I was just jumping to conclusions again.

Finally taking hold of his shoulder gently, I shook him lightly and called out to him. “Knight. Knight, wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open heavily and took a few seconds to adjust to their usual neutral state. His lips came together and assumed their regular straight formation. In just several seconds, the peaceful looking Knight reverted back to the usual austere one.

I let go of his shoulder, still leaning down over him. “Are you all right?”

He stared at me silently for a second before answering in that usual monotone of his. “Yes. I must have dozed off in the last hour.”

“You really should’ve just called for me once you felt tired,” I told him, feeling strangely like some overbearing elder sister, “I could have taken over earlier.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Can you take over radio checks for now?”

“Leave it to me. You get rested, okay?”

He stood up and brought a hand up to the back of his head. Yawning slightly, he gave me a slightly sleepy look.

“Archer and Goliath are due for another radio check about now,” he said, starting to walk toward the door. “I’ll put my comms on silent, but if there’s anything concerning, wake me.”

“Roger that.”

“Then I’ll see you in a few hours, if nothing happens,” he gave me a nod, then turned and left the Command Room.

I took the seat Knight vacated and opened up a channel to Genel and Josh via my wrist-mounted TACPAD. I pressed on my earpiece and tried to raise the two.

“Angel to Archer and Goliath. Come in, over.”

There was no response for about six seconds, so I tried again.

“Goliath, Archer, this is Angel. Please come in, over.”

This time the response was immediate: “This is Archer.”

Genel’s voice was whispery and low. The lack of significant background noise from her end told me she was indoors, in a secluded area.

“Just checking in. Any problems?” I asked, lowering my voice a little.

“So far, so good,” Archer replied discreetly. “Goliath and I are at the location now.”

“How are things? You guys getting any intel?”

“Funny you should ask,” Archer said with a tiny chuckle; Genel certainly could sound smug and sassy at times. I smiled to myself. “I’m rifling through some personnel files right now.”

“Anything you can share now, or will it all have to wait until you guys get back?”

“I’ll send over what I’ve found as soon as I’m through here.” There was a faint click-clacking noise of keys in the background. “How was your half of the op?”

“Almost uneventful,” I replied, absently booting up the computer in front of me. “After Knight exfiltrated the hospital, we went straight home. It’s almost hard to believe he got in and out without anyone knowing.”

Suddenly, a ghostly little chuckle chimed in on the conversation. “Heh. That’s our leader for you.”

Josh’s voice was more or less as quiet as Genel’s.

“I envy you guys though,” he murmured lightly, “Got to go home before even eight and cozying up to one another while me and Archer have gotta walk all the way back to the truck in minus twenty weather.”

For some reason, Knight’s serene sleeping face popped up in my mind.

“If you’ve got time to gripe, you’ve got time to work,” I told him a bit sternly, though I really was only trying to sound more like an XO.

“I am working,” Goliath insisted, sounding hurt although I knew he was just faking it. “Who do you think’s got door cover while Archer’s leisurely looking through the dirty laundry?”

Suppressing a faint sigh, I shook my head in wonder. Josh really does grow on you quite quickly.

“As you can probably tell, we’re doing pretty good,” Archer said with a sigh. “Though getting in here probably wasn’t as easy as it was for you in SHC.”

“One of you couldn’t go incognito?”

“Wasn’t an option for us. Everyone here is bigger than me but smaller than Goliath. Bet you feel glad you were with Knight now, aren’t you?”

“Jury’s still out on that one. It feels like he did all the work while I sat back and ate popcorn.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Not every moment as a super spy is as extravagant as they are in the movies.”

“Too right.” I checked my TACPAD for the time: 0108.

“How’s Knight, by the way?” Archer asked abruptly, her conversational tone becoming more serious.

“Retired to his quarters, I think. He looked tired. I told him he should have asked me to take over monitoring your status when he felt like getting some shut-eye.”

Genel made a faint “mmm-hmm” noise, then shifted back to business talk. “We’re almost done here, Angel. We’ve got intel on Steele that should help us with future ops. I’ll send over what I’ve got once we’re clear.”

“Copy that. Nice work. I’ll check back in an hour. Watch yourselves.”

“We will. Archer out.”

Archer signed off and the line went silent. I closed the channel and essentially stared off into space for a few minutes until my TACPAD’s brace vibrated to alert me of an incoming message from another associated TACPAD. Glancing back down on my wrist, I tapped the new notification icon to open the message Genel sent me.

The subject line simply read ‘intel’, while the body of the message was blank. There were however, two attachments included with the message. I tapped on the first paperclip icon and waited for the file to load.

When the file was finished loading, I was met with a title page bearing the emblem of the United States Army. Right below the first page was a second one, and on this second page was a small mug shot of a male soldier wearing standard woodland fatigues on the upper left corner of the page. He looked about my age or maybe younger, with slightly bronzed skin, a regulation haircut, and striking blue-gray eyes. He had a thin scar running diagonally from his left cheek and cutting through the left corner of his lips and ending about half an inch above his chin. His mouth seemed to be set in a tiny scowl, although perhaps that was just his scar making him look less friendly than he might actually be. Right below the mug shot was the soldier’s information.





Full Name: Steele, Nathan Scott

D.O.B.: 1996/04/14





I stared at the soldier’s last name, then glanced back up at his mug shot. Those blue-gray eyes suddenly looked more familiar.

This must be Major Steele’s son. Judging by his son’s file being in a US Army database, Nathan followed in his father’s footsteps. That, or he was forced into service by his father. Either way…

I kept scanning the document until I happened upon the younger Steele’s current assignment:

‘Under direct command of Master Sergeant David Brenks, assigned to Echo Company led by Major Bradley Steele.’

‘Echo Company serving as forward strike force in Calgary, Alberta as of 2019/12/15.’

The pieces came together in my mind, and I couldn’t help recalling the certainty with which Knight said that the major would tell us what we wanted to know.





Genel and Josh arrived at Haven just after 0600. By then, Knight still hadn’t returned to the Command Room. When Genel and Josh walked into the Command Room at fifteen minutes past six, both of them looked equally mildly worn out after a night out on an operation. As practically the team doctor, it was my responsibility to see to the others’ physical and mental well-being. I asked the two of them if they sustained any injuries at all and overall how they were feeling, to which they simply replied that they were only tired but uninjured.

Genel yawned, drawing out the noise and prompting Josh to do the same.

“You two better get to bed,” I told them, rising from the seat I’d been occupying for the last few hours and stretching on my toes as well. “Get some sleep. Doc’s orders.”

“Yeah, yeah, you won’t get any complaints from me,” Genel said lightly. “I’m hitting the hay. I’ll probably be out until noon. What are you going to do?”

“I was thinking of hitting a boutique close by to expand my wardrobe,” I said, giving Genel an emphatic look to which she nodded knowingly.

Josh looked at us with a slightly inquisitive expression, but instead of cracking another joke like I was expecting him to, he shrugged and started walking toward the door.

“Well, you ladies have a good morning. I’ll see you later.”

Clearly he wasn’t in the mood to joke around at the moment, because he departed from the room right away, presumably to get some rest.

Genel stretched her arms outward and turned back to me. “Ian’s still in bed?”

“I reckon so. I haven’t seen him since earlier this morning.”

“Maybe I should check on him just to make sure he’s okay,” she said uncertainly.

“You worry about our leader a lot,” I commented, raising an eyebrow at her curiously.

Genel surprisingly became visibly slightly flustered. “Yeah, well… Between you and me, we’ve uh, known each other a while.”

“I see. Well, either way, you let me check up on him, okay? I need to go see him right now anyway, let him know I intend to go out and grab some clothes. Otherwise I’ll be doing laundry every day.”

Genel eyed me shrewdly. “None of ‘em worked for you, huh?”

“Unfortunately, no. Not to say I don’t appreciate you trying.”

“Okay. I’ll leave Ian to you. Are you going out alone?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m not planning to head into Calgary. There’s Indus and Dalemead close by. One of them ought to have a place that sells clothes for ladies.”

“All right, Thanks, Chrissy. I’ll see you when I wake up.”

“Yeah, see you in a bit.”

Genel headed out, leaving me alone in the now quiet room. I grabbed my TACPAD off the computer desk, replaced it in my wrist brace, and left the Command Room myself.

On my way down to B3 to go see Knight, I went over the intel that Genel sent over this morning in my mind. If we were going after the major’s son to use the younger Steele as leverage, our chances of breaking the major and getting one step closer to learning about who’s involved in what’s happening in Calgary increases. We might even gain information on what’s going on in other cities besieged by the American military. There was also the matter of the intel Knight picked up from the South Health Campus. He didn’t get to share his findings with me yet, but I expected him to brief me and the others about it sometime today.

I arrived at B3’s elevator landing and instead of turning left at the T-junction like I always do, I turned right. I hadn’t been down this way yet, but with only so many unexplored parts of Haven it was only logical to expect that Knight’s quarters were this way.

I passed a few unmarked doors and one labelled ‘J. Stone’ before happening upon one near the end of the hallway with ‘I. Alcantara’ on the accompanying plaque outside the room.

I rapped softly on the door three times and called, “Knight? Knight, it’s Angel.”

When he did not respond or open the door, I knocked again and said, “I’m coming in.”

I turned the doorknob, which gave way with no resistance. Well, I guess he did tell me to come wake him up if ever anything happened. Pushing open the door slowly, I tentatively peered inside.

The first thing that I noticed when I looked into the Reaper’s quarters was that the room itself was dark – so dark that it took me a moment to realize that this room’s layout was similar to that of mine and Genel’s, only this one was a mirror image of mine. Instead of the double bed being against the left corner of the room, the one here was on the far right, and the closet here was on the left side of the room rather than the right. I took a couple steps inside, leaving the door open a little to let some light into the room.

There was also a faint but fairly distinct smell in the room. I seldom notice what my own bedroom smelled like, but this one I did. If I had to describe the smell in here, it was a mix of the earthy scent one might catch by being around a flowerbed, some traces of salt like one might smell by the seaside, and a little bit of men’s cologne or deodorant. Surprisingly – and I would never say this out loud to anyone – the resulting sum of these smells wasn’t unpleasant at all to me, and I actually found it subtly relaxing.

Through the meager illumination provided by the lights out in the hall, I made out the metal desk between the bedside dresser and the closet. The surface of the desk was clear, save for what appeared to be a personal laptop that sat folded on the surface. Evidently Knight doesn’t do much in this room because his and mine don’t have the same lived-in feel that Genel’s has. No books on the shelves, no photos pinned to the desk by magnets. In fact, I found it oddly sobering to find someone else’s room to be so merely… functional. It was like this room was solely for its owner to sleep in. Then again, it’s not as if this was our condo or personal property so perhaps the lack of personalization in this room shouldn’t be too strange.

Okay, let’s not dawdle here.

I turned toward the bed, where I was able to make out the form of Knight lying on top of it. Approaching the bed, I reached out to shake him awake once again but stopped abruptly, sensing something was wrong with him when I got close enough.

“Knight?” I whispered.

No response. Instead of words, I caught the concerning noise of several strained breaths erupting from his mouth. Forgetting all caution, I knelt by his bed and put a hand on top of his chest. He was breathing, but in irregular, brisk intervals. Each inhalation he made was shallow. Through the semidarkness, I could see that his face was contorted in what I could only describe as pain or anguish. His lips were parted slightly and his eyelids appeared to be clamped tightly shut over his eyes. His eyebrows were bunched at the top of his nose bridge, and every few seconds his head turned minutely to either side as if he was grappling with something I couldn’t see. When I moved my hand up to his forehead, I was alarmed to feel his skin cold and moist with sweat.

I got up and leaned across the bed, placing my hands on either side of his face.

“Wake up,” I called out to him anxiously, “Knight, wake up!”

When he showed no signs of waking, I began to lightly slap at one of his cheeks.

“Knight! Knight!”

“…kuh…”

A choked breath escaped his lips, sounding vaguely like part of a word, but it was too faint for me to make out what he said.

Abandoning all reservations, I lifted a bit of the skin of his cheek between my thumb and index finger and pinched him hard.

Knight gave an abrupt, airy gasp. At the same time, his eyelids flew open and he started to pant harshly. It was a little difficult to tell in this light, but I thought his eyes looked alert but confused, as if he was trying to remember where he was.

I gently let go of his cheeks and moved my hands to his right arm and gripped him hard.

“Knight, it’s me,” I told him, using my most soothing voice.

His wary eyes appeared to home in on mine, even in this dim lighting. “Christi— Angel?”

“Yes, it’s Angel.”

Knight still looked visibly shaken up. His breaths were rapid although I could hear him clearly drawing in a lungful of air with each one. To be honest, I was a bit worried too since I was just starting to accept that virtually nothing fazed this man. Yet here he was, propped up on his elbows, looking rather disturbed. When he yanked my arm out of my grip and practically leapt out of bed in two seconds flat, I couldn’t help being extremely concerned during the moment.

“Knight, you shouldn’t get up so fa—”

He ignored me, strode past where I was standing, and practically stormed over to his desk. He pulled open the desk drawer, pulled out what appeared to be a small bottle, and popped off the lid.

I quickly stepped to his side just as he shook something out of the bottle onto his palm and shoved whatever it was into his mouth.

Instinctively, I shot my arm out and grabbed the bottle out of his hand. Surprised, he merely stared at me as I walked over to the middle of the room to hold the bottle up to the strip of light pouring into the room from the hallway.

It was a small, plastic yellow pill bottle that contained maybe a dozen or so white tablets inside. Turning the bottle to read the label, I found the medication’s name on the small paper slip taped to the outside of the bottle:

Desyrel, 150 mg/1. Take one tablet daily.

Desyrel. Trazodone.

Feeling a little lightheaded myself from this sequence of events, I slowly spun around and held up the bottle for Knight to see. I wasn’t sure yet what I was feeling at this point, but it felt like I was repeatedly jumping from sheer concern to mild horror.

“Do you… know what’s in this?” I asked him shakily, my voice coming out as quietly as mouse’s squeak.

Knight tried to hold my stare, but for once he was ultimately unable to. An uncomfortable, clouded expression spread across his face.

“How many did you take just now?” I demanded, my voice starting to rise.

“One,” he answered in a murmur.

Something hot and acidic rose up in me like an influx of bile, but I was nowhere near throwing anything up. A new emotion started to billow and build inside me: anger. My hands started to shake at my sides.

“Angel—” Knight started to speak, but I cut him off without thinking.

“Does HQ know about this?”

Knight closed his mouth and stayed silent.

“Answer me: does HQ know you’re dosing yourself with Trazodone?” I asked him again, feeling angrier even though I wasn’t sure who the target was for it.

He stared rather dully at me. In this light, he looked unpleasantly different to me: gaunt, even slightly sick. After meeting my glare for several seconds, he finally opened his mouth.

“It’s none of your business, Angel.”

I took a step closer to him and squeezed the bottle so tightly in my fist that I was sure I’d undo the lid and blast the remaining tablets outward.

“Think again,” I said in a hard voice, “I’m Shadow Team’s medic. It’s my responsibility to look after everyone’s health. So no, this is my business, Knight.”

He appeared to inhale and exhale deeply.

“I’m also team XO,” I went on, gesturing at my chest with my thumb, “If my team’s leader is overdosing on some shit, I’ve got every right to know before someone else pays for the leader’s questionable decisions.”

“I’m not overdosing on that.”

“Prove it. Who else knows about this? Josh?”

Knight shook his head slightly in the dim light.

“Genel?” I asked next, my voice starting to croak.

His head stayed still this time. I took a step back in shock. Genel knew that Ian was dosing on antidepressants? And she kept it a secret from headquarters?

“How could she—” I muttered to myself, shaking my head wearily. None of this made sense…

One of the standing requirements to being a Clandestine Operations Sector operative was a commitment to maintenance of physical and mental health. Before training even begins, each candidate is screened for any diseases or disorders that may negatively impact their performance out in the field. Even after they complete training and become full-fledged operatives, each C.O.S. agent is required to submit to routine health check-ups to authorized health personnel hired by the Canadian Security Intelligence Service to ensure none of them are ill or wilfully engaging in untoward practices that would impair them while on the job.

The bottle in my hand basically undermines that requirement.

And… Genel? Why would she hide it from the higher ups? Was her concern for Knight all just some sick farce? I couldn’t believe this person whom I thought highly of and liked the moment we met would do something so negligent and dangerous.

“Genel knows and HQ knows,” Knight said in a resigned tone. “HQ made an exception for me.”

That hit me like a train going at full speed. I almost couldn’t believe him, but I knew I’d heard him correctly. What’s more, he stared me dead in the eye when he said that, and he didn’t appear to be lying. If he was lying, he was damn good at it, but so far Knight had never lied to me. He might have been terse and chose not to divulge certain things to me, but so far he’d been honest with me.

Right now, I wished he was lying. Because if he was telling the truth, then it would mean an official organization vetted an individual whom they knew fully to be impaired and could make poor decisions that could end up costing the lives of other agents and those we strove to protect.

“I don’t believe you,” I shook my head again, taking another step backward. I felt like a hypocrite for accusing him of lying when in truth, I was lying myself; I did believe him, but I didn’t want to.

Knight took a couple of steps toward me. “Angel.”

“I’m sorry. I need to think.”

With calmness that belied the storm of emotions swirling in my chest, I turned around and left his room.

He didn’t follow me or call after me. I heard nothing as I walked back to my quarters, shut and locked the door behind me, and lay in my bed with my eyes to the ceiling. I wouldn’t have minded falling asleep, but even sleep refused to take me.

I laid there for hours, all my thoughts focused solely on Knight.





Sometime later, I heard three knocks on my door. I’d regained my composure and worked myself out of my semi-catatonic state within the first hour I spent laying in the darkness of my room. Whereas when I plopped into bed I felt shocked, now I simply felt boorish.

I got up from bed, feeling my neck muscles creaking from me being immobile for hours. I slipped on my slippers and trudged over to the door. Just as I was pulling the door inwards to open up, one last knock rang against the metal, as if whoever was on the other side had gotten impatient and wanted in right now.

When I fully opened the door, I was met with a tall figure clad in a dark gray windbreaker, black combat pants, dark brown winter boots, and a black toque. I recognized those near-impenetrable eyes instantly.

“Angel,” he began in that usual monotone again, lowering his arm.

I stifled the urge to sigh. Bombshell or none, he was still in charge of Shadow.

“Is there an op underway?” I asked him, skipping whatever niceties he or I could have used to try and mask the gloomy atmosphere between us.

“In a manner of speaking,” Knight replied, then bent down to pick something up from beside him that was out of my field of view. When he straightened up, he held out to me my backpack and utility belt.

I glanced down at my equipment he was holding, then back up at his face. “I’m afraid I missed the briefing, sir.”

“Yes, well,” Knight suddenly shifted his eyes sideways and his voice became noticeably more subdued. “There’s no briefing needed this once. Briefing the others will be an… awkward affair.”

Despite the vibe between us, I couldn’t help raising my eyebrows quizzically. Why would we have an op without being briefed first? That makes no sense. Has his medication worsened his decision making skills?

“Sir?” I stared at him with a forced straight face. Ever since what happened earlier today, any progress I made toward loosening up around Knight seemed to have been rendered null.

He kept refusing to make eye contact with me for some reason. Well, if our earlier conversation was of any significance to him, I suppose this wasn’t all too strange.

He drew in a quiet breath.

“We’ll be back here within the hour, I’m hoping. And for this one it’ll be just the two of us.”

He bent down again to place my backpack and belt just inside my room, against the doorframe. I watched him closely as he put down the items and straightened up again.

“What’s our objective?” I asked seriously, finding his behaviour mildly perplexing.

He seemed to hesitate, as if he was willing himself to say something difficult, then spoke up in a diffident tone.

“Genel mentioned you wanted to shop for… clothes.”

Huh?

At first, I simply looked at him with a profound feeling of bemusement, then as I digested his words further that bemusement rapidly morphed into mortification.

Genel told Knight I wanted company while procuring more ‘clothing’? Why?

Judging by Knight’s slightly awkward demeanour, I think it was safe to say that for whatever reason, Genel had revealed to him my severe lack of undergarments.

I felt a flood of heat flush up my neck and into my face. I lowered my head and glared at my feet, unable to look at the Shadow leader.

“I decided to accompany you. There are a couple of small towns close by with at least a clothing store,” he said, still deadpan.

“You… d-don’t have to,” I stuttered, feeling well and truly embarrassed. All thoughts of Knight’s dependence on drugs quickly evaporated from my mind.

His hand came into view as he thrusted what I recognized as my ballistic vest of choice under my lowered face, pressing the object lightly against my stomach.

“No Shadow should go out alone if it can be helped,” he said adamantly, “And I don’t want your mind on comparably trivial matters like a lack of… necessities, while we’re on actual operations. I insist that you get ready.”

He pushed the body armour a little roughly against me, prompting me to take hold of it with both hands. After a moment of awkward silence I nodded briefly and muttered a vague affirmative, then without another word closed the door in his face to hide my surely reddening face.

As I quickly changed into a brown sweater and a pair of leggings, I realized I was actually currently going commando at the moment without a choice of going otherwise.

Feeling my face burning even hotter, I switched from leggings to jeans hastily.





Twenty minutes later, Knight pulled up the truck we were riding in in front of a small, one-story wooden building in the main street of the town of Dalemead, which was situated about eight kilometres south of Haven. During the short ride to the hamlet town, neither of us spoke except for when he asked me which nearby town I’d like to visit, to which I replied with this town’s name. Dalemead was a rather unremarkable municipality with a population of less than two hundred people. A Canadian Pacific Railway train track ran roughly through the middle of the deserted town, but apart from that there was nothing of particular note about this place out in the sticks.

Though there weren’t any soldiers at all in the tiny town, neither were there any occupants, or at least there didn’t seem to be at first glance. There were signs that residents had left their homes and the town in a hurry: cars with open doors and popped trunks, garbage sporadically littering certain parts of the main street, the one grocery store in town (which was more of a general store than a grocery store) looking largely looted and empty of merchandise. It felt even more eerie here in this town than back in Calgary because of this town’s size. It truly felt like there was absolutely no one else here but me and Knight. At least back in Calgary I knew there were still plenty of residents being held captive by the enemy, so the city was quieter but not empty. But here, not a single noise that could conceivably be produced by a human being could be heard, other than the ones the two of us were making. It felt like everyone in this place just up and vanished without traces as to where they went.

“Angel?”

I turned my head toward Knight, who had mounted the wooden deck leading up to the front door of Dalemead Boutique, its entrance sitting wide open in a rather ominous way.

“Yes?” I said, a bit distracted.

“Are you all right?” he asked, letting his G36C assault rifle dangle from his left hand.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just can’t help wondering,” I answered, looking back down the street to observe the foreboding stillness of Dalemead. The only sound I could hear was a faint winter breeze in the midday air. No vehicles, no chatter, not even insects chirping. Nothing.

“Wondering about what?”

“This town. It’s like… everyone just vanished at once. No bodies or signs of combat. Where did everyone go?”

Judging from how there were train tracks running behind the boutique and the town hall, it was fair to assume this town was used to freight trains passing through town and sending rumbles through its buildings and streets on a regular basis. Now though, I was certain not a single train would pass through here again.

Knight didn’t answer immediately. I expected him to dismiss my musings outright, but instead he humoured me this time.

“I can’t say. Maybe the residents received word about what was happening to the west and all decided to get out early. It does certainly look like they packed up before they left.”

I glanced at him again, finding him gazing out at the street like I was. “But where would they have gone?”

“No telling now that there’s no one left. If most major cities in the country are occupied too, then maybe they moved to an even more remote area. The mountains, maybe.”

“In the dead of winter?” I asked, unable to hide the incredulity in my voice.

Knight moved his gaze back to me, meeting my eyes. “Between enduring the cold and keeping your freedom or being imprisoned or killed, which would you have chosen?”

I didn’t bother to answer that. I knew I’d have chosen the same as these people in the end.

“We should get what we came here for and get back,” Knight said to me after a pause. He didn’t seem much of a leader now so much as he was simply tagging along with me. His moderately stiff demeanour was a tad more relaxed.

“Right.”

I mounted the deck and walked past Knight to enter the clothing store.

The boutique was a mess like the general store was, but unlike the other store this one still had plenty of items hanging from racks and haphazardly dumped in large retail bins. Clearly the inhabitants of Dalemead put more value on food and water than the clothing that remained in the boutique. I noticed that a decent portion of the coats section was largely empty for obvious reasons while the baskets and bins containing mostly short sleeved shirts and the like were still full of merchandise. Further down the aisle in front of me, I saw there were shelves in the back of the store that held a meager supply of women’s intimate wear. That section looked barely touched by the occupants of the town who had now left.

I briskly strode down the aisle and made my way over to the back, Knight’s footsteps shadowing me. When I reached the shelves I spotted from the front of the boutique, I put my Vector down and started to sift through the stacks of bras in search of ones that were within reasonable range of my measurements before I realized that Knight was still practically hovering over my shoulder.

Feeling my cheeks getting warm again, I looked behind me but was astonished to see that he was again avoiding my gaze. His lips were pursed rather tightly.

He brought his free hand up to tinker with the sheath of his tactical knife. “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to keep an eye out while you shop. The changing room is over there.”

He pointed to my right where a single changing room stood against the corner of the store, protected by a gray retractable curtain that hung from the ceiling to about half a foot above the floor.

“Okay,” I mumbled, nodding as I looked toward the changing room.

Knight took a couple steps away from me to give me some space and turned his body and head toward the front of the store.

The boutique’s collection of bras and underwear was small at best, so there wasn’t much by way of variety. However, I managed to find four pairs of sports underwear and four matching sports bras that appeared to be my size. Just about everything else wouldn’t conceivably fit a woman like me with more modest measurements, so I sighed and gathered up my selections in my arms. I hobbled over to the changing room and took an innocent peek inside out of habit. Finding the stall empty but rather cramped, I dumped my ‘purchases’ on the small bench inside and removed my backpack.

Knight audibly started tinkering with his rifle now, evidently trying to look busy.

God, this is awkward. Never in a million years did I expect I’d one day have to go shopping for intimates with a C.O.S. agent, let alone the Reaper.

I put my down my backpack just outside the stall and began to undo my utility belt. After I shed the belt, I did the same with my pistol holster. The last to come off was my ballistic vest.

Once all my combat gear was on the floor, I slipped into the changing room and drew the curtains over the entrance. I crouched down to undo the laces of my snow boots and removed my footwear.

Whereas before the silence was plainly eerie, now it only felt awkward and uncomfortable. Despite my general discomfiture around Knight in the wake of what transpired in his quarters this morning, trying out undergarments in silence while I knew he was waiting right there was somehow worse than speaking to him.

Okay, small talk. What to mention? The lovely weather we’re having today? What I had for breakfast before daybreak? Maybe ask what his hobbies are?

I tentatively undid the hook and eye of my jeans.

No, what I really wanted to know more about was what happened between him and me earlier today. Since I returned to my quarters after the fact, I’d calmed down enough to realize I’d probably overreacted to seeing Knight’s medicine. I was still trying to wrap my head around how he could be working as a Sector operative in his condition, but in hindsight I may have come across as condemnatory to the simple fact that he may have some health condition he couldn’t help. I didn’t even know for sure exactly what he had that would warrant him popping Desyrel, even though I knew what Desyrel was used to treat. I couldn’t know, because I didn’t even ask. I just came up with my own conclusions.

Will I ever stop feeling guilty?

“Knight?” I said aloud before I could stop or hesitate.

“Right here,” came his level response. His voice was low, and from the sound of it I could tell he had moved closer to the changing room in the minute since I entered the stall.

My shame overrode my timidness, such that the thought of him being inches away beyond this curtain didn’t embarrass me at all. I didn’t quite understand why, but I found his subtle gesture comforting.

“I’m sorry,” I told him slowly, making sure he would catch every word, “About this morning. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

I waited several seconds for him to reply, but he seemed not to have a response to that. I felt his stationary presence just outside the stall, but he did not say anything. Nonetheless, a knot in my chest came undone when I said my piece.

Grabbing hold of the waistband of my jeans, I pushed the garment down my thighs and past my knees, eventually pulling my feet free of the pants.

I picked up the first pair of underwear from the bench and slipped my legs into them. As I pulled them up to my hips, Knight abruptly spoke up.

“It’s okay, Christina.”

I froze when he addressed me by my first name again. Somehow I felt more weight leave my chest when he said my name. Feeling slightly less uncomfortable now, I glanced at the curtain, trying to imagine seeing his face through it.

“Is it okay if I ask about the… the meds?” I said tentatively. “I won’t explode about them, I swear.”

It took him five seconds to answer.

“Sure,” he said, his voice softening considerably. All of a sudden he sounded like someone else, someone less guarded.

“Why do you take Trazodone?” I asked, careful not to sound too curious, trying instead to sound almost casual but not to the point of insincerity.

Again, he took his time responding. I stood still on this side of the curtain and held my breath, waiting.

“Anxiety,” he eventually replied. I had partially expected this answer, as Trazodone was an anti-anxiety medication as well as an antidepressant.

“I see,” I mumbled, then hesitated before asking something else. “How long have you had it?”

“Three years.”

“Did you have it when… I mean did you, even before—?”

“Yes, I had it before I became an agent.”

“They… let you become an agent even when they knew you had… that? Why would they do that?”

He paused again. When he answered, his words sounded a little heavier than anything else he’d said to me so far.

“I don’t know. Perhaps they needed someone specifically like… this.”

The most natural follow up question was how he started having whatever degree of anxiety he had, but the question sounded too nosy in my mind. But this confirms that the C.O.S. did know Knight had a health condition that was normally an indicator for pulling a candidate or existing agent out of the service. The big question then becomes, why? Why would they need someone “specifically like” him as an operative? I reminded myself that even with his health in less-than-ideal condition, he still managed to earn the Reaper distinction somehow, so most likely there was a lot more to his history than what I could speculate on.

Still… was it wise to vet a candidate who might make a questionable decision during critical times?

“You’re not going to ask?”

His next few words roused me from my deep thinking. There was an undercurrent of curiosity in his tone. I only then just realized that this was the first time he and I had ever talked seriously and more openly about personal matters. Once again, I remembered what Genel told me about Knight being more than just what he initially seemed to be.

I wanted to know more, but at this point I conceded that I’d have no reason other than to satisfy my curiosity.

“Everyone has secrets, right?” I said as an indirect way of telling him I didn’t want to pry if he was withholding information about his history. It’d be different if we were friends, but we’d known each other only two days. ‘Known’ might even be an overstatement. To ask now about something that personal would be tantamount to tasteless gossip.

After all, I’ve done things myself that I’d rather not share with anyone. Everyone’s got secrets.

Knight did not respond to that, but I had a feeling he silently agreed with me just past the curtain.

I shrugged out of my sweater and T-shirt. The building was no longer heated since the power to the entire town had been cut somehow, so the chilly temperature triggered bursts of gooseflesh over my arms and torso. I took the first sports bra – a rather loud bright yellow one – and pulled it over my head and onto my upper torso. Relieved that it fit me somewhat even though it did feel a bit small even for me, I sighed.

Ah well, better than nothing.

I got to work on putting the rest of my clothes back on, and when I was fully dressed I slid the curtain to the side.

Knight was standing right at the threshold of the changing room, looking in the direction of the store’s entrance. When I appeared before him, he glanced at me with a rather easy expression. His eyes didn’t look quite as impenetrable as they usually did. On the contrary, they looked subtly more inviting to interpretation. I still wasn’t sure what he felt or thought, but I did know that whatever his reason for coming along with me, I was glad he did. I didn’t quite have the gall to tell him that, but for the first time since we met, I felt comfortable enough to offer him a tiny smile.

He stared at me without a change in his admittedly softer features for a moment, then he seemed to revert back to his stoic default within the span of five to six seconds.

“Ready to head back?” he asked me, his flat tone somehow not making me feel as intimidated by him as it usually did before.

I nodded twice, clutching the rest of my intimates to my chest. “Yeah.”

After putting on the rest of my gear and stowing my purchases in my backpack, Knight and I piled back into the truck and drove back to Haven. While neither of us spoke on the return trip, I no longer felt the same unease or nervousness that I’d been feeling around him up until this moment.

It felt like I got to know Ian Alcantara just a little better – not by much, I’ll admit, but for now it was enough.