This is the first draft of a story that is complete. (10/26/2020) |
I managed to make it back to the truck I parked in the fields east of the hospital within the next fifteen minutes. When I found the vehicle, Sergeant Burke was already in the front passenger seat. I opened the driver’s side door and got behind the wheel. Peeling off my helmet and balaclava, I turned the key in the ignition to bring the truck to life. Burke was the first to break the silence. “Well?” He looked at me slightly expectantly. “How did the opposition look?” I took a deep breath before answering. “Over a hundred hostiles, easily. Most of them were on the floors aboveground. With just the guards in the sublevels I can comfortably see us taking them and rescuing prisoners without any casualties, but the ones in the lobby and the upper floors make it a bit dicey.” Burke nodded slowly. “Agreed. Keeping ourselves alive is one thing but against these odds we’d be looking at collateral damage.” I didn’t answer, thinking this through. This was going to be different than back in the Stampede. The terrain was different, first of all. Whereas the Stampede had wide, open spaces that made medium and long-range engagements possible, this time we’d be fighting in considerably smaller spaces. It was going to be a CQB fight, and with several dozen prisoners it would be difficult at best to keep them out of the line of fire. It would be optimal to save each one, but was it realistic? There was also the disparity in the numbers. With four reservists at best plus Shadow Team we were numbering eight while facing down a hundred foot soldiers, again in tight, close quarters. If we weren’t careful, this could easily turn into a suicidal operation. Any decent combat strategist would rate the situation as unfavourable. Eight of us trying to safeguard fifty-plus civilians against possibly one hundred hostiles all at once in cramped spaces was how this was going to go down unless we come up with something else. Even taking the disruption in comms and power it was hard to see this op not incurring any casualties – fighter or civilian. What we needed was a diversion to reduce the number of US soldiers responding to those of us in the underground parking levels. The ones facilitating the evacuation of the prisoners needed as much room to breathe to complete the objective. I shifted the truck’s gear and reversed out of the grass, then reoriented the vehicle to head north along 52nd Street. As I drove us back toward the Copperfield | Mahogany Community Centre after ensuring we weren’t being followed. “So, Knight…” I briefly looked his way out the corner of my eye. He was looking straight ahead out the windshield with a somewhat faraway look on his face. “Sergeant?” “I don’t suppose I can ask you for your first name, at least?” I turned my head slightly to glance at him. “Why?” Burke shrugged a little, giving me a tiny smile. “No big reason. I just figured, with our two parties working together and all, we could build some camaraderie or something.” “We’re people who don’t exist, Sergeant Burke. Were it not for difficult circumstances you and I may never even have met.” He seemed to nod tentatively. “I guess I can understand. You guys are spooks and all that. I think I just—” Burke abruptly stopped, seeming to hesitate to say more. “Yes?” I murmured, turning right onto McIvor Boulevard. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “I wonder about Gen sometimes. That’s all.” I said nothing, sensing that the sergeant was probably seeking to get a bit personal by bringing up Genel. Besides, I wasn’t even sure what to say to that. Clearly from our first meeting a few days ago, Sergeant Burke and Genel were something of an item. If he was thinking about her even now of all times, I supposed that was a good thing. People worry about people they like… or love. “Can I ask you a bit of an offhand question, Knight?” the sergeant asked quietly, tapping his fingers on his knee. “Depends on the question.” “No, it’s not about your names or that sort of thing. I was just, err, going to ask if Genel was doing all right. These days, I mean.” I blinked, pausing for a moment. Since Burke wasn’t part of Shadow Team and I’d only just met him, I felt a bit uncertain sharing any non-mission information with an outsider. Still. Would it harm Shadow Team if I conversed with Burke about someone he and I both knew? Probably not. Taking a deep, quiet breath, I said, “Genel is fine. She’s tougher than she looks.” “I suppose you’re right about that,” Burke said, “I mean, she didn’t make Warrant Officer by being incompetent. I just… you know.” Maybe. “You love your girlfriend. Understandable.” Burke glanced at me a bit sharply. After a second, he shook his head and sighed slightly. “Yes and no,” he replied a bit morosely. “She’s… an ex.” I tried not to show a reaction. I didn’t want to get any more personal than this, but if Burke was preoccupied with a breakup, then it wasn’t outlandish to wonder if Genel was, too. “I see. Did she… or both of you, at least have the reasons straightened out?” I asked, clearing my throat as quietly as I could. If someone was going to break up with someone else, it would be best that both parties knew why. Less room for unresolved matters that way. It would also be easier to move on that way. “Yeah,” Burke answered. “She said it was—” “Sergeant. What she said to you is between the two of you. I don’t need to know.” The younger man beside me seemed to shift awkwardly in his seat. “Right. Sorry.” The two of us remained silent until I parked the truck in front of the rec centre not five minutes later. As I engaged the safety brake and shut off the engine, I glanced at the sergeant, who appeared to be in deep thought about something. Did I say too much, or too little? I sighed again, keeping the noise discreet. “Sergeant Burke?” He looked up and at me, his face bearing a distracted expression. “Yeah?” I hesitated for two seconds, then gave in. “I’m sure Genel appreciated your feelings toward her, if she knew. If she broke it off with you, I know it’s because she thought it would be the best for the both of you. I’ve known her long enough to know that the last thing she wants to do is hurt someone she cares about.” Burke’s eyes widened considerably, clearly not expecting what I had just said. He opened his mouth slightly in surprise. Yeah, this would be out of character for me. Now he might even ask what my relationship with Genel is. I looked away, opting to stare out the windshield. After a brief pause, I added: “And I get you’re worried. But Genel is more… resilient, than you’d be inclined to give her credit for. She takes care of me more than the other way around.” Definitely too much. This, however, gave the sergeant an opportunity to chuckle. It was still a slightly gloomy one, but at least my remark seemed to clear his head some. “That… sounds like her, all right,” he said with a slightly fond tone. “Thanks. And sorry, I got a bit—” “I understand.” I opened the driver’s door. “I’ll fill you in on some other things inside, if that’s all right.” He nodded, opening his own door. “That’s fine with me. Thanks, Knight.” The next morning, Knight called the entire team to the Command Room for a briefing regarding the rescue op that we would be launching late tonight. He informed us of the location of the generators, the prisoners, and the troop trucks we’d need to commandeer to evac. After that, he told us about how we’d go about the operation. “Sergeant Burke and three of his men will be supporting us,” Knight explained, then looked at me. “Christina.” I stared back at him. “Knight?” “I’m putting you in charge of leading the rescue and evac of civilians.” I reared my head back slightly in response. “Me?” “Yes, you. I’ve already informed Sergeant Burke that I’m leaving command of the security and evacuation with you.” “Leaving command—? Wait. Where will you be?” Knight didn’t bat an eyelash. “I’ll be running interference.” “What?” Genel beat me to giving an incredulous response. “I told you we were contending with upwards of ninety hostiles on site,” Knight said, glancing at Genel. “Those odds are already cutting it fine if we were just looking to fend them off, but when we couple in protecting these many civilians we’re looking at a lot of collateral damage. I’m going to pull as much attention to me as possible, and away from you and Burke’s men.” “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Genel demanded, her voice taking a hardened, even angry tone. “You’ll be up against at least six floors worth of soldiers. You can’t possibly run interference by yourself.” Knight’s expression bore no traces of concern. “I’ll be carrying enough ammo.” “That’s not what I mean,” the team sharpshooter said exasperatedly, rising slightly in her seat. Josh gave a sigh, looking straight at Knight. “Listen, boss… Maybe I should at least go with you. Genel does have a point: that’s a shitload of enemies you’ll be taking on.” As much as I understood the importance of extracting all the prisoners with minimal casualties, I had to agree that under normal circumstances, the task Knight was shouldering was borderline suicidal at best. “Knight,” I said tentatively, pulling his gaze to me. “I agree with Genel. You’re going to need backup.” He bowed his head momentarily, then lifted it again. Shaking his head, he said: “No. I want you three together spearheading the evac. Nothing against the 41 CBGs, but I can’t fully entrust the safeguarding and evacuation of the prisoners solely to them. Once all the civilians are on board the trucks, I want you to exfil ASAP.” “What about you?” Josh asked. Even the usually jolly and lighthearted man was lacking his cheeriness. He looked as concerned as me and Genel. “I’ll find my own way out and catch up with you.” Genel’s office chair abruptly wheeled backwards as she pushed off it and rose to her feet. She glared indignantly at the Shadow leader, her hands slamming down on the table and startling me with the noise. “Ian, you’re fucking crazy,” she said, sounding almost furious. Her tone and expression frightened me a little since Genel was someone I saw as docile. Of the two of us I always thought I was quicker to anger. “I’m not going to—” What frightened me even more though, was what came next. “Yes, you are. These are my orders, Genel. Fall in line.” A dreadful silence gripped the Command Room. I felt uncomfortable moving even my head as I observed Knight and Genel. The tech specialist’s jaw looked set defiantly, as if she was gritting her teeth behind pursed lips. At the same time, I noticed her lips trembling nearly imperceptibly and her hands curling into tight fists atop the table. Knight’s last rebuke was sharp, even harsh. His voice had risen a little, but still it was enough for me to recoil in my seat. I had never heard Knight sound legitimately angry, but right then I got a glimpse into how he was when pushed just a little too far. His eyes – normally thick with lack of emotion – seemed to stare Genel down with poorly veiled umbrage. After five long seconds during which I seemed to forget how to breathe, Genel straightened up and wordlessly stomped out of the room. I instinctively rose from my own chair to follow her, but Knight raised his arm and cut across me sharply. “No. Let her be.” Josh got up from his seat, shaking his head at the team leader and frowning disapprovingly. “I get what you’re trying to say, Ian, but you didn’t need to be so hard on her.” With that, he turned and left the room, presumably to check up on Genel. When the Command Room door swung closed, I braved slowly looking back at Knight. He was still staring after the door through which half the team had disappeared. Most of the hardness in his expression had evaporated. He closed his eyes, turned his face away from me slightly, and brought a hand over his mouth. After a moment, I took a breath and mumbled, “Knight?” “What, Christina?” he said, his voice back to its usual monotone. “I get it. We need as many of us to help the prisoners, but Genel’s only worried about you. Don’t you see that?” “Of course I do.” His reply was so immediate that it stunned me for a few seconds. I stared at him silently, then said: “So… are we going ahead with this plan?” “Yes. Can I count on you?” I paused before nodding. “Of course. Leave it to me.” Knight nodded too, then turned his gaze to me. “Thank you.” “Everyone report in.” Knight brought his hand up to his earpiece as he crouched beside me in the grass. The South Health Campus’ main entrance stood across Front Street ahead of us, its lit lobby casting light over the driveway outside and illuminating two US Army soldiers standing guard outside the automatic doors. “Goliath here,” came the voice of Shadow’s weapons specialist. “North, north-east of the site is clear. Five hostiles down.” “Copy, Goliath,” Knight said. “Burke reporting,” the reservist sergeant spoke over the comms, “My men and I have cleared hostiles along Seton Way.” “Good. No alarms?” “None. Best take them by surprise now before they realize they’re under attack.” “Agreed. All right, everyone rendezvous in the fields directly in front of the main entrance. It’s time to kick this off.” I switched my Vector’s fire mode to full auto and looked sideways at Knight, who was removing the suppressor from the muzzle of his Walther sidearm. He noticed me eyeing him and looked back at me. “You clear on the plan?” “Affirmative. Make our way to the underground parking levels, neutralize the security detail, secure transport, and evac everyone back to the rec centre. Make sure we’re not being followed.” He nodded, pocketing his suppressor. “Last time I’ll ask,” I said hesitantly, giving him a small frown. “Are you absolutely sure you don’t want us to wait for you before we evac?” Knight holstered his PPQ and looked back at the hospital ahead. “I’m not the priority; the prisoners are. Less likely for them to follow you out when there’s still activity elsewhere on site.” “I know, but—” “Angel, I need you to trust me. Stay with your objectives. Don’t worry about me. Don’t wait for me. If you can be in and out in five minutes, do that. The faster you can evac, the better.” I drew a sharp breath. Genel couldn’t convince him not to pull distraction duty solo, so I highly doubted I could. It just didn’t feel right leaving a teammate behind, even if they volunteered to the idea. “Fine. Just… come back. I don’t want to be promoted to Shadow leader because the last one decided to martyr himself.” Knight paused before replying. “Roger that.” A couple of minutes later, Josh and Genel arrived, then Burke with three of his soldiers: Private Emmerich, Corporal Ingridson, and Corporal Gow. As I used a pair of binoculars to survey the parts of the lobby visible from our concealed position, Knight spoke to the Canadian Army reservists. “Everyone got a pair of NVGs?” “Yes, got them,” I heard Burke from somewhere behind me. “My men, too.” “Good. Once I kill the power, it’s going to be hard for them to orient themselves in there for a little while. Keep yours on, keep the advantage.” “Got it.” I lowered my binoculars, stashed the device into my backpack, and picked my Vector back up. “I see roughly a dozen from here, most to either side of reception. The lobby should be easy to clear once those soldiers are stumbling around in the dark.” Knight nodded. “Who has the extra C4?” The voice of Corporal Ingridson arose from somewhere behind Sergeant Burke. “Right here.” “Know what to do with them?” “Yes sir,” the woman answered promptly. “Blow open the retracting doors to secure our exit and take out the main staircase.” “Good,” Knight said, sounding subtly pleased. He glanced at me and the rest of Shadow Team. “Ready?” The four of us donned our night vision goggles. “Ready,” I replied. “Good to go,” Josh said, lifting his Stoner LMG a little. Genel nodded silently, readying her G28 marksman rifle. “Sergeant Burke, you and your men wait here until we’ve cleared the lobby.” “Roger that,” the sergeant responded. Knight consulted his TACPAD and hovered a finger over the screen, “Lights out in three, two… one.” He tapped on the screen once. The C4 charges Knight took with him last night had reduced explosive power in lieu of concealability, so from outside we didn’t hear any of them going off. Nonetheless, within the next few seconds, the countless lit windows in the floors above the ground level went out like snuffed candles. The lobby too was plunged in darkness, causing the guards inside and outside to collectively jerk to full attention. From my point of view though, the lack of illumination wasn’t as pronounced thanks to my night vision. “On me,” Knight murmured over comms, rising to his feet with his own G28 rifle raised. “Don’t leave any of them standing.” Once he was out of the grass, he fired a single shot from his rifle while on the move, interrupting the relative quiet of the late evening. His round felled the guard on the left of the lobby entrance, catching the man square in the torso. The large 7.62 x 51 mm round punched through the soldier’s body armor and toppled the man instantly. Over to my right, Josh fired a short burst from his Stoner. The rounds buffeted and cut down the guard on the other side of the main door near-instantly. Following Knight’s lead, we crossed Front Street and mounted the sidewalk in front of the entrance. Knight gestured to both sides of the doors. “Archer, post up on the windows to the left. Goliath, right. Give us cover. Angel, with me.” Genel and Josh split up to either side while Knight and entered through the manual revolving doors. We pushed through them, and as soon as we were inside Knight turned his rifle to the left and resumed firing single shots at the soldiers over by the Goodearth Café. Several yells broke out over the gunfire, some urging others to get into cover and return fire. In the meantime, I took cover behind a pillar to the right of the doors and sighted my Vector on a group of about six soldiers who had snapped on the tactical flashlights mounted to the barrels of their M4 carbines. Two of them managed to duck behind the receptionist’s desk, but the rest of them were just a little too slow to react. I managed to release two bursts from my submachine gun, taking out two of the soldiers who had failed to get into cover in time. I trained my weapons optics at the other two, then noticed a couple of lights being aimed at me to my ten o’clock. I dove fully back behind cover as a chorus of rounds tore at the pillar I was hiding behind. A different weapon screamed its relentless barrage of automatic fire, joined by the shouts of a couple of soldiers several metres past me on the other side of my cover. “Angel, two left behind the receptionist’s desk,” Josh reported over the team channel. “Copy, thanks!” I waited, peeking out from cover until one of the soldiers peered up from cover to reacquire me. I aimed straight at the light that partially obscured the soldier from my view and fired another burst. Evidently some of my rounds caught the soldier, because he fell over backwards and out of sight behind the counter. The second soldier behind cover lifted his rifle over the counter and began to blindly fire it in my direction, prompting me to duck back behind safety. “Hang on, I got him,” Josh volunteered. I remained in place as Josh’s light machine gun thundered for a second. A yell broke out from the desk amidst the rattle of Josh’s automatic fire. “He’s down,” he reported. I heard several carbines barking over to the left of the receptionist’s desk. I pivoted and switched cover, coming up beside Knight, who was on one knee and firing his G28 in the direction of the café. He ducked behind a newspaper dispenser as a few soldiers returned fire at him. “How many left, Knight?” I shouted a bit to be heard over the gunfire. “At least five holed up in the café.” “I can’t get an angle on them from here,” Genel told us urgently. “I’ll hit them with a flashbang, you knock them down,” I told the Shadow leader. “Do it, then cover me.” I yanked one flash grenade from my magnetic belt and primed it. “Flash going in.” I lobbed the grenade at the open entrance to the café. A couple of seconds later, a momentary flash of light and a loud bang reverberated from within the café. Knight darted out from cover and began strafing the length of the café, firing more single shots into it. I trained my Vector in the same direction, watching for any surprises that might catch him unaware. When Knight’s G28 abruptly stopped barking, one soldier popped out from cover to acquire his position. Knight by then had dropped his rifle and was grabbing his sidearm, but the soldier was just about ready to fire at his unprotected position. I snapped my sights to the soldier’s visible upper torso and fired. The soldier staggered backwards and out of view. When the entire first floor of this side of the hospital fell deafeningly silent, I exhaled slowly. Knight glanced around at the lobby, now littered with several bodies of US soldiers. “Lobby clear. Everyone okay?” “Affirmative,” I replied. “We’re good,” Josh said over the channel. “Form up on me in front of reception,” Knight ordered promptly, making his way toward me. “Sergeant Burke, you and your men can come on over. Hurry, before more of them show up.” “Roger that, Knight. Let’s go, guys!” Knight stopped in front of me and waited for everyone else to join us. Genel and Josh arrived first, then the sergeant and his companions, all of whom were wearing goggles we had provided for them. I swapped my nearly empty magazine with a fresh one as Knight addressed us all. “We all know our objective. From here on, Angel has OPCON.” “Roger that,” I nodded at Knight. “Goliath.” Knight turned to Josh. “Got my weapon?” Josh reached for the other gun adhered to the side of his backpack and held it out to Knight muzzle-up. “Here,” he said, “Origin-12. And I’ve got more mags for you here.” He put down his backpack, zipped it open, and pulled out several magazines for the shotgun to Knight, who began adhering them to his utility belt. Josh pulled his backpack on again and stood up. “Steel slugs. They’ll punch through armour, no problem.” “Excellent.” Knight briefly checked the weapon and tugged and released the charging handle. He turned back to me. I couldn’t see his eyes because his goggles were hiding them, but I could imagine them just fine: set, with no traces of hesitation or fear. His lips formed a straight line and he looked… almost raring to go. “Good luck,” he said tom me. “I’ll pull as much attention away from you, but you need to be quick.” Part of me wanted to argue that what he was doing was simply much too dangerous for me to stomach letting him do it, but he did have a point: we couldn’t possibly hope to extract with zero civilian casualties if each soldier on site boxed us in down at the underground parking levels. “Roger” was all I ended up saying. Genel stepped forward and looked up at his face. She reached out and grabbed Knight by the front of his ballistic vest. “You come back to us, you hear me?” Knight nodded slightly. “Right. Get moving, Archer.” Genel stared up at him a couple more seconds, then reluctantly let him go and backed off. Without another word, Knight strode off in the direction of the stairwell past the café. I watched him go for a couple of seconds before taking a deep breath and looking at the 41 CBGs. “Let’s move,” I told the group, turning toward the main staircase close to the nearby radiology department. “Down those stairs.” The seven of us headed down two flights of stairs before I addressed Josh and Genel, who were poised to descend another couple flights. “Okay, just secure those trucks and bring them up to P1,” I reminded them. “Roger,” the two of them answered before continuing down the stairs. I turned to Corporal Ingridson, who was straightening up from a crouch near the bottom step of the last flight of stairs we had gone down. “Ingridson, you got that C4 placed?” I asked her. She pointed to the block of plastic explosive adhered to the bottom step. “Charge is set.” “Blow the stairs and the shutters as soon as you can.” “Yes ma’am,” she said crisply. I placed a hand on the door to P1. “All right, everyone follow me. Check your fire down here – we’ve got lots of civilians.” I opened the door and stepped out into the noticeably cooler P1 level parking lot. The lot itself wasn’t completely bathed in darkness. In some places along the walls and some pillars, mounted emergency lights had come on and given the entire space a little illumination. The difference in the lighting made a barely perceptible change to me, though, thanks to my goggles. I proceeded carefully to the left out the door, where Knight had informed me the prisoners were being held. Further down the parking lot, I saw them: easily fifty, crowded next to the west wall. They were all sitting, some trembling from the temperature, quite distinguishable from the soldiers standing guard over them. I moved from cover to cover until I was within forty metres of the edge of the crowd of civilians and their guards. I peered out from back of the pickup truck I was hiding behind and turned my head toward Burke, who had crouched down beside me. “Get your men to spread out. We need to down as many of those guards before they can scramble for cover,” I told him. He nodded, then signaled to the two men close to him. “Emmerich, Gow, find a good vantage point. Let’s box these guys in. And watch your fire.” “Yes sir.” The two of them split up and stealthily vanished behind different pieces of cover nearby. Burke headed off to find his own vantage point. I waited for a moment while the rest of my party got into position. In the meantime, I watched and listened to some of the enemy soldiers ahead of me. One of them was on the radio, which was spewing all manner of noises of gunfire loudly across the otherwise quiet parking lot. “Lieutenant? Lieutenant, sir, what’s going on up there?” the soldier barked into his radio as two of his colleagues crowded closer. “We’re under attack,” came an authoritative voice from the device. If memory served, that had to be Lieutenant Evans, the site CO. “Get more backup here on the third floor now!” “Sir? Sir, should the prisoner guard respond? Lieutenant!” “Teams Two and Three, come to the third floor now! Take him down! For God’s sake, he’s just one man!” Knight was keeping them busy, all right. But I wasn’t sure how long he could hold out. Some distance away from the Lieutenant’s radio, a dull boom punctuated the transmission, then the radio went silent. The soldier holding the radio tried to fiddle with the dials in an attempt to re-establish contact. “Lieutenant Evans? Lieutenant, come in! Are you there? Lieutenant, this is Private Fowler, please respond!” My earpiece crackled, then Burke’s low voice whispered in my ear. “In position, Angel.” “Copy,” I murmured, bringing my weapon’s stock to my shoulder and pressing my cheek against the frame. I filled the reticle with one of the soldier’s center mass. “Engage on my shot.” “What are we still doing here?” one of the other soldiers asked the radioman, sounding restless. “We need to get to the third floor!” “We can’t just leave these civvies unguarded,” argued another. “Look, Peters, Daniels, Diaz, come with me. We’ll head up there. The rest of you stay here and—” I pulled the trigger of my Vector. My initial burst caught the radioman in the torso, pelting his side and toppling him. Quickly switching to another target beside him, I cut down a second soldier promptly. The other soldiers began screaming “contact” and pointing in my general direction just as three other sets of assault rifles filled the parking lot with deafening rattles. Before I could acquire a third target, three other soldiers had been brought down by rounds fired by Burke, Emmerich, and Gow from elsewhere within the dim parking lot. “Shit! Hostiles behind the van!” “Another one to our two o’clock!” “Find cover!” The shouts of the US soldiers just barely drowned out the terrified screams of several civilians, who had mostly all bunched together more tightly. Some of them flattened themselves to the ground in fear of catching a bullet. I sighted on one more soldier who took cover behind a cement pillar about thirty metres away from me. He had clearly opted to take cover from Burke’s men, because from my angle he was wide open to attack. I fired another burst from my Vector, landing all shots to the soldier’s hip and leg. He yelled out in pain and lost his balance, winding up on his side on the ground. I adjusted my aim and put a couple more rounds to connect with his upper body. “Got one more behind pillar R9,” one of Burke’s soldiers – Emmerich, I think it was – informed us over the comms. “Two behind that plumber’s van!” Burke reported. I could see the van in question, marked with a cartoon of a man holding a plunger on the exterior, but not the soldiers using it as cover. Still, I was in the best position to flank and take them by surprise. A couple loud booming noises erupted from behind me, in the direction of the main staircase and somewhere further toward the opposite end of the sublevel. Ingridson had triggered the charges to cut off any reinforcements from reaching us via the main staircase. “I’m repositioning,” I called out over the radio to Burke and his men. “Check your fire and keep them pinned.” “Copy!” As the sergeant and his colleagues peppered the van with rounds to keep the enemy suppressed, I moved briskly out from cover and pushed to my two o’clock where I took cover behind a white sedan and peered from its front end, down the line of bumpers. Almost twenty feet ahead of me, taking cover behind the van in question’s rear doors, were two soldiers intermittently leaning out to return fire in the direction of one of the 41 CBGs. I lined up my reticle at the closer of the two and fired again. The rounds found the soldier’s shoulder and the side of his neck, killing him instantly. The other beside him tried to turn in my direction to respond to my attack, but I landed several more rounds to his chest and the base of his neck, silencing him permanently. When those two went down, an abrupt silence filled the parking lot before the voices of frightened men, women, and children filled the vacuum. “Oh my God!” “Please don’t kill us!” “Don’t shoot, please!” “Two down,” I muttered to my mic, taking a bit of the pressure off my trigger as I tried to ascertain if all hostiles were neutralized. “Sergeant, any other hostiles in play?” There was a pause before the sergeant replied. “Negative, that’s all of them. We’re all clear. Emmerich, Gow, sound off.” “Here, sir,” one of the sergeant’s men responded. “Sir… I’m hit.” The other soldier sounded strained over the line. Shit. I rose to my feet and switched channels quickly. “Archer, Goliath, how’s it going down there? You secured that transport yet?” “Affirmative,” Genel answered. In the background, I heard the rumble of a powerful engine. “Goliath is hotwiring the second truck – couldn’t find the keys to these on the soldiers we took down. We’ll be up there in two minutes. Are the prisoners secure?” “Still need to check on them, but all the hostiles are down. Hurry, one of the 41 CBGs is hit. I’m gonna check how bad.” “Roger that. Hold tight.” I jogged over to where Burke was calling me over from. About twenty metres opposite the wall where the prisoners were corralled, the sergeant and one of his men were kneeling down by the other soldier, who was sitting up against one of the cement pillars. I dropped to my knees and took off my backpack. The soldier who wasn’t injured – Emmerich – had his hands pressed over a wound on Gow’s abdomen. As I unzipped my backpack, I gave the sergeant a jerk of my head in the direction of the panicking prisoners. “Sergeant, check on the civilians for me. Let me know if anyone’s hurt.” He appeared to hesitate for a couple of seconds, his eyes darting toward his injured colleague. “I’ll tend to Corporal Gow. I need to know if anyone else is shot. Move!” I barked at him a bit harshly. Jumping as if he’d just been lashed by a whip, the sergeant nodded distractedly and took off to follow my directions. I leaned in toward the wounded corporal, who was still fortunately conscious. His face was red and shiny with sweat, contorted in pain and mild anxiety. “I’m here, Corporal,” I told the wounded man in my best soothing voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be all right.” He nodded a few times. “Thanks, ma’am.” I tapped Private Emmerich’s shoulder, getting his attention. “Keep pressure on that wound, Private. Don’t ease up.” I carefully lifted Corporal Gow’s back off the column to check for an exit wound. The back of his shirt was relatively dry, but I lifted it all the same to make sure. His back was clear of punctures, meaning the bullet was still lodged in him somewhere. I quickly rummaged through the contents of my backpack for the trauma kit I always carried with me. As I was part of the way through dressing the corporal’s gunshot wound with bandages, Sergeant Burke reported back over comms. “All civilians are okay. No injuries or casualties.” I allowed myself a split second to sigh with relief, then continued to dress the wound, making sure no blood could stain through the gauze. I tightly secured the dressing and finished the first aid treatment in two minutes, which was when the loud rumbling of a couple of engines from the ramp that connected P1 and P2 came. “Archer? Goliath? Tell me that’s you coming up the ramp.” “That’s us,” Josh replied immediately. “Hang on.” “Okay.” I switched back to Burke’s frequency. “Sergeant, Archer and Goliath are on their way up. Let’s load the civilians as soon as the trucks arrive.” “Got it!” he responded. I turned back to the private and the corporal near me. “Can you support him yourself?” I asked Emmerich. “I’ve got him.” “Good. Lift him up. We’re leaving.” Two identical military trucks roared up the ramp and came screeching to a stop in front of the group of prisoners, who all began to rise to their feet, spurred by the hope of rescue and Sergeant Burke’s assurances that we weren’t US military. The troop compartment of one truck had seats that could accommodate just over twenty normally, but the compartment could hold more if people smooshed together and sat on the floor too. We’d need to overload the trucks to get everyone out on just two vehicles; there wasn’t time to secure another one. “All right, everyone into the trucks! Let’s go, let’s go! We’re taking you somewhere safe!” I raised my voice again and gestured toward the civilians, who began to climb into the back of the trucks. I helped Private Emmerich get Corporal Gow onto the troop compartment of one vehicle before striding over to the driver’s door. It opened and Josh stuck his head out to look to the back of the truck he was manning. “Anyone hit?” he asked, glancing at me with a serious expression. “Just one of Burke’s men,” I answered, “I patched him up and he’s stable. Be ready to move out.” A familiar woman in the same digital green fatigues as Burke’s, Emmerich’s, and Gow’s jogged over to us from the direction of the sublevel shutter doors. “Shutter doors are open,” Corporal Ingridson reported to Sergeant Burke. “Nice job, Corporal,” the sergeant thumped her on the shoulder. “Jump into the back of one of these trucks once all the civs are aboard. It’s going to be a tight squeeze, but the rec centre isn’t far and we’re getting everyone out.” As about three quarters of the scared, weary prisoners were loaded up and ready to go, I checked in with Sergeant Burke, who was supervising and assisting the rest of the civilians onto the back of the trucks. “We’re moving out in one minute,” I informed him tersely. “Got it. I’ll hop in once everyone’s aboard.” “Get in the cab of Archer’s truck. I’ll ride with Goliath.” Genel’s voice reached me via my earpiece. “What about Knight?” I’d nearly forgotten that one of us wasn’t even down here facilitating the evacuation. I tapped my earpiece. “I’ll check on him. Be ready to drive, Archer.” I swiped and tapped on my TACPAD to launch a direct channel to the Shadow leader’s own TACPAD. “Knight? You there? Come in, this is Angel.” After a moment, his line opened up, bombarding me with obnoxiously loud gunfire in the background. “Knight here. Did you get the prisoners out?” “Almost,” I reported, watching as the last ten or so civilians crowded around Burke, perhaps worried they’d be left behind. “We’ll be exfiltrating in a minute. Can you make it down here?” “Negative, I won’t—” He broke off as a pair of distinct CHOOM noises coming presumably from his combat shotgun filled my ear. “—make that window. Just go, get out of here!” I couldn’t help myself; I had to try. “But what about—” “I told you not to wait for me. Exfil now, Angel. Northstar are on their way. Hurry!” The mention of Northstar sent a shock travelling across my body. If Rhodes was on his way here, then we needed to leave before the civilians were put in danger. “Understood,” I said grimly as Sergeant Burke helped the last civilian on board one truck. “Knight—” I found myself at a loss for what to say next. ‘Take care’? ‘Be careful’? What he’d been doing the last ten or so minutes was already noncompliant with those remarks. Burke shot me a thumb up and jogged over to the front of Genel’s truck. “Just go,” Knight told me before closing the channel abruptly. With no other choice, I went around the back of Josh’s truck and piled into the cab beside its driver. He glanced sideways at me, sweat pouring down his temple. “Are we good to go?” “Yes.” “Is Ian—?” “He told me to get out as soon as we’re ready. We need to go. Now. He said Northstar mercs are on their way here.” His jaw tightened. For a fleeting moment he looked ready to debate my decision, but ultimately chose not to. “Okay. Hang on.” I raised Genel on comms. “Archer, follow us. We’re evacuating now.” There was a noticeable pause on her end before she responded with a stiff “affirmative”. Josh accelerated the troop transport truck, wheeling it around several columns until it was oriented toward the exit Corporal Ingridson had blown open. Genel followed closely behind in the second truck. As our trucks powered up the ramp and out into the open winter night, I glanced at the rearview mirror to watch the South Health Campus gradually shrinking the further we drove away from it. He’ll be okay. He’s the Reaper. I repeated that thought to myself, forcing myself to believe in the myth. I tried not to wonder if I’d made a mistake agreeing to this plan. After all, there'd be all the time to do it later if the plan turned sour. Rhodes updated the quota on the spreadsheet on his portable tablet, staring hard at the bold number under totals: ‘120’. Almost halfway there. As he looked up at the Osprey carrying those twenty prisoners that were just transported here from the Stampede rising in midair and getting ready to fly south to headquarters, his tablet erupted with a shrill beeping. He looked back down at the screen to find a small popup window on the bottom right indicating that someone was calling him via a special device he’d distributed several of to some site CO’s throughout the city for emergencies. Rhodes tapped on the option to answer. Immediately, the tablet’s speakers begun blaring a cacophony of automatic gunfire in the background. After a second, a voice started to speak urgently. “Lieutenant Evans to Hornet. Come in! Hornet, respond!” Rhodes brought the tablet closer to his face. “Lieutenant, this is Hornet. What’s going on over there?” “We’re under attack! Can you reinforce us? It might be the operative you told us about.” Rhodes paused for a moment. “Roger, Lieutenant. My team and I will make our way there right now. How large is the attacking force?” The sheer volume of gunfire in the background made the lieutenant slightly hard to hear. “Unknown. I’m on the third floor of the hospital, but it looks like just a lone attacker is up here with us.” Rhodes raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. One attacker? Against dozens of US Army soldiers? Who would be insane enough to throw themselves against those odds? He gave it a second of thought before his mind settled on Christina Valentine. She had infiltrated this base by her lonesome only a few days ago. Who else could it be? “Understood, Lieutenant. We’re inbound. Try not to kill the attacker. I want to ask them questions.” “Negative, negative! We can’t afford to take — gah!” A loud gunshot that Rhodes recognized as different from the US Army’s carbines reports rang out close to the lieutenant’s position, then the officer abruptly stopped speaking. After a few seconds, the connection was terminated and relative quiet emanated from the tablet. Rhodes lowered the tablet and pulled on his earpiece. He placed it in his ear and pressed the button on the device. “Hall, Yansen,” he said, “Get to the VTOL. We’re heading to the SHC.” The austere voice of Amanda Hall, the close-quarters specialist of the team, was the first to respond. “What’s up, Rhodes?” “The hospital to the south is under attack. Could be the same person who attacked us here.” The deep, imposing voice of the team demolitionist, Fabian Yansen, came through on the line next. “Fucking finally. All this waiting around is killing me.” “Let’s go. We lift off in two minutes.” Rhodes reached into his coat to make sure he was carrying his Glock 48, then headed over to the Osprey to wait for his team. As he took a seat in the troop compartment and the aircraft’s pilot went through the pre-flight preparations, Rhodes clenched and unclenched his hands in anticipation. Christina’s face lingered on his mind. Rhodes took out his knife and flicked out the blade, imagining running the tip of it over the girl’s face. The thought filled him with blissful excitement, such that in the ensuing flight he kept holding his knife. About fifteen minutes later, Rhodes and his two companions Hall and Yansen slid down a rope from the Osprey they took to get to the South Health Campus. They split up on their entry; Rhodes had Hall enter the hospital from the Emergency Room, while he and Yansen took the main entrance. Even before he got inside, Rhodes could tell that whoever hit the hospital was tactical and prepared. One of the two shutters leading down into the parking garage had been blown open by some explosive. The place was devoid of lights, evident from the lack of lit windows even from the outside. Somehow the assault force had killed the power to the whole building. Did you do all this, Christina? Somehow Rhodes doubted that. The Christina Valentine he remembered from years ago was meek and timid. A poor excuse for a recruit, even. Her brother was made of stronger stuff, but she was clearly not cut from the same cloth. Still. Why was she running around now doing a job that clearly involved holding a gun? Four years ago she could barely bring herself to pull a trigger on anything. Rhodes and Yansen entered the main lobby, flicking on a couple of weapon-mounted taclights. They panned their beams over their immediate area. The lobby was as still as a graveyard at night. Rhodes pointed his Glock to the left of the receptionist’s desk, where there was an indoor café of sorts. He cautiously approached it, stopping in his tracks when he saw blood splatters on the far wall of the space, the display cases, and the kitchen equipment. A few bodies of US Army soldiers occupied the café. One was sprawled out under a far table, while another was draped like a human towel over the counter. A couple were facedown closer to the café doors. The lobby held the most bloodshed. From the booths just outside of the café to the chairs in front of the nearby radiology department, Rhodes counted at least a dozen bodies. He didn’t bother checking any of them for signs of life; he wasn’t so much concerned for the victims as he was for who could have done all this to them. The presence and number of spent shell casings across the floor told him that whoever had laid waste to the lobby had to have had help doing it. Yansen grunted. “That little bitch do all this?” “Perhaps. But I doubt she did this all by herself.” “Yeah, no shit. Still can’t wrap my head around her showing up now, after everything that’s happened.” Rhodes slowly panned his light over the bloodstains on the wall behind the receptionist’s desk. “Four years is a long time, Yansen. Maybe she’s picked up a trick or two.” “Yeah? Won’t save her when I get my hands on her.” “I want her taken alive,” Rhodes snapped at the larger man. Yansen scoffed, turning toward Rhodes. He shook his head. “Like hell. Boss man told me he wants her dead on sight. I’m taking his suggestion.” Rhodes clicked his tongue in annoyance. This man had no sense of pleasure. “Listen,” he said, trying not to sound too antagonizing. “We will kill the girl, but not before I’m done with her.” Lancer had put Rhodes in charge of operations here, but Yansen could be a problem if the demolitions expert decided to take matters in his own hands. For all intents and purposes, the man was a brute with nary a predilection for being delicate with anything. Yansen sighed heavily. “What, so you can dissect her for some science project like that other guy? This ain’t school, Rhodes.” “I mean it. You can pull the trigger on her if you want, but not until I say so.” The bigger man turned away with an annoyed snort. “Whatever. Where are we headed?” “Third floor. That’s where the site CO told me he was before the call disconnected. Stay sharp.” “A’ight.” Rhodes and Yansen took the central staircase up to the second floor. Rhodes noticed that the flight of stairs leading down to the basement level had been destroyed, again by an explosive charge. Judging from the wrecked stairs and the blown shutters he saw from outside, the attackers had to have been concerned about the prisoners being held here. He made a mental note to check the sublevels once he’d checked the third floor. The second floor was deserted and looked normal enough despite it being as dark as everywhere else. Since the central staircase reached only up to the second floor, Rhodes and Yansen had to take a stairwell close to the western side of the hospital. When they got there however, they found the stairs up to the third floor had been blown up too. Chunks of debris had piled up in the stairwell such that there was no way to continue heading up from there. Yansen whistled. “Someone really didn’t want anyone heading up to three.” Rhodes put a hand to a chunk of fallen cement blocking their path up to the third floor. “Or anyone heading down past the third floor.” All of a sudden, a loud snap erupted from above. Rhodes instinctively pointed his pistol’s underbarrel light up the stairwell. From the volume and pitch of the snap, he surmised it came from the third floor. It most likely also came from a handgun firing. “East stairwell,” Rhodes told Yansen, who had also glanced up in the direction of the noise. “Move.” “On it,” Yansen replied, heading back down to the second floor landing. Rhodes followed closely behind him, sprinting across the length of the second floor until the two men got to the east stairwell. Fortunately, it was intact and passable, so they had no trouble reaching the third floor landing. Before bursting out into the third floor, Yansen glanced behind him at Rhodes, who was waiting for him to take point. “I have your six,” Rhodes murmured to him, nodding. Yansen gave a silent nod in response, then pushed the door to gain access to the third floor elevator lobby. Rhodes followed closely behind him, making sure to check each corner for anyone waiting to ambush them. The elevator lobby was as quiet as the first floor but had far more signs of combat. Nearly every inch of the elevator was littered with what had to be over a dozen bodies of Army infantrymen. At a glance, Rhodes surmised that most of them had died where they lay due to a fragmentation grenade blast. Large swaths of their uniforms had clearly been sheared and punctured by shrapnel. The others had been brought down by gunfire. One or two corpses were missing large chunks of an arm or leg. It was impossible not to step on blood, because the floor was caked with it. Yansen observed the bodies for a second, then glanced back at Rhodes again. What the hell, he mouthed. Only one of the two units on the third floor was open. Unit 24 to the east was shut, but Unit 22 to the west was open. Or rather, the doors were supposed to be shut but a body of a fallen soldier was preventing the double doors from closing, effectively propping them open a few inches. The unit itself seemed still and silent now. Were it not for the pistol report a minute or two ago, Rhodes would have concluded that whoever had attacked the hospital was long gone. Rhodes took cover behind the right half of the double door while Yansen got behind the opposite half. Signaling Yansen to hold position a moment, Rhodes raised Hall on his earpiece. “Hall, come in. It’s Rhodes.” “Reading you. ER is clear, but—” “Proceed to the third floor ASAP. Unit 22. Possible contact.” “Roger that. I’m on my way.” Rhodes looked at Yansen in the semidarkness with a grim stare. After a pause, Rhodes wordlessly jerked his head toward the unit. The two men pushed the double doors inward in unison. What greeted them in the unit lobby alone made Rhodes freeze a second. Another slew of bodies, piled nearly on top of each other, covered the immediate entrance to the unit. Pointing his light further down the hallway, Rhodes saw even more in several places further into the unit. Some were lying on the floor, others were slumped against the walls. Countless blood smears painted the floor and walls, even the ceiling on occasion. Rhodes was no stranger to death and destruction, but this gave him pause. What Hall told him the previous night about LATCHKEY seemed to jump out at him in his mind. Loath as he was to acknowledge its achievements, Rhodes knew few people who could produce a carnage of this scale. Was he supposed to believe one person was responsible for the deaths on this floor? Yansen trained his FN SCAR assault rifle down the hallway, panning it slightly left to right and vice versa. “Move in,” Rhodes whispered, raising his pistol. “Take it slow. Eyes on those open rooms.” “Copy that.” Yansen began to slowly move down the hallway, keeping his pace just above a crawl. Rhodes kept close behind him as usual. Together, the two took turns checking every room down the corridor – one verifying each room for hidden combatants while the other kept the first covered. There was no room for error here; Rhodes had Hall and Yansen, plus several US Army personnel as backup when they raided the school and brought down those four mysterious operatives, and those four presented a considerable but contained threat. This was different. Rhodes got the ominous feeling that whoever orchestrated an attack this brazen was a step-up. There had to be over twenty corpses inside this unit alone. Most of them were out in the hallway, but on occasion Yansen and Rhodes found a number of them inside the rooms. When they were halfway down the hallway and Rhodes was checking out one of the rooms, Yansen’s light suddenly left the room he was in. Rhodes glanced back at him, finding the man looking to the portion of the hallway they had left for checking. His rifle was pointed in that direction. “What is it?” Rhodes said in a hushed voice. “Think I heard something a few doors down.” Rhodes finished his check of the room he was currently in, verifying it was empty before rejoining Yansen out in the corridor. He pointed his pistol in the same direction his colleague was pointing his rifle. “Give the rooms a quick sweep,” Rhodes instructed the demolitionist. “I’ll cover the corridor in case something comes out.” Yansen did not respond, instead opting to silent follow Rhodes’ orders. Rhodes stayed put, watching Yansen as the man trained his rifle left or right, depending on which rooms in the corridor he was checking. Just as Yansen was nearly at the end of the hallway, he pointed his rifle into the second-to-last room on the left-hand side. It was at this moment that something small came flying out of the room opposite the one Yansen was checking. It took Rhodes a second to recognize the cylindrical object that bounced off the wall next to the demolitionist and clattered between Rhodes and Yansen. “FLAHSBANG!” he shouted, instinctively averting his eyes. Rhodes managed to avoid looking directly at the ensuing flash. The auditory effects of the grenade still hit him with fair effectiveness, however, and he found himself stumbling backwards a couple of steps, trying to recover as quickly as possible from disorientation. He vaguely recognized Yansen shouting in pain before he forced himself to open his eyes again. When he did, he lifted his Glock up in time to illuminate a dark figure sprinting at him with blinding speed. Rhodes took a shot at the approaching threat, but whoever it was must have predicted the move. They jerked to the side a fraction of a second before Rhodes’ weapon discharged, effectively dodging a round. Coming at him again, the figure thrust an arm forward into Rhodes’ space. Rhodes recognized the flash of a knife, barely allowing him a window to dodge the jab by stepping to the right. Without caring to think, he pointed his pistol at the figure, who was still recovering from the failed attempt to stab. Rhodes pulled the trigger of his Glock twice, filling the corridor with a couple more sharp cracks. The first didn’t seem to connect, but the second made the figure stagger toward the opposite wall. Seizing the opportunity as the figure appeared to be stunned, Rhodes reached into his coat for his switchblade. He engaged the blade and drove it forward with a lunge as the figure was squaring up to face him. The switchblade buried itself in the attacker’s abdomen in near silence. Rhodes felt some resistance as his momentum was slowed by the presence of a ballistic vest, but he was sure his knife had pierced through it. He put his weight into the motion, burying his knife to the hilt in the opponent’s stomach. Rhodes heard a gruff curse come from his adversary’s mouth, causing him to look up and find their eyes in the semidarkness. For just a second, he was able to make out the man’s face. The only thing Rhodes saw of it – or paid attention to – however, were the man’s eyes that seemed to burn with cold hatred. Rhodes saw no more details of the face before him after that, because the enemy abruptly snapped his head forward and struck Rhodes in the nose with it. Blinded with the pain and the sheer shock, Rhodes stumbled backwards and collided with the wall behind him. He became aware of something warm streaming out his nose and crossing both his lips. “RHODES! HE’S GETTING AWAY!” It took Rhodes a split second to recognize Yansen’s booming shout coming from the hall to his right. He took a couple of seconds to shake off the headbutt to his nose, then lifted his pistol in the direction of the unit entrance. The back of a dark gray jacketed figure limping at a pace admittedly rapid for someone in their condition had just passed through the unit entrance and was retreating toward the east stairwell. Rhodes glanced back toward Yansen, who was bleeding from a wound to the side of his neck. He was holding a hand up to stem it. He waved Rhodes off with his free hand as he struggled to stand. “It’s just a nick – get that sumbitch!” Rhodes tore after the man who had fled the unit. He burst out the unit doors and lifted a hand to his earpiece to contact the last member of his team. “Hall, got a contact heading down the east stairwell. Cut him off before—” A trio of sharp cracks again rang out, coming from the east stairwell. Rhodes made his way over to it as fast as he could. He kicked the door to the stairwell open, training his pistol into it in case his prey was waiting on the other side, but the third floor landing was clear. He descended the steps, practically taking two steps at a time in an effort to catch up to his quarry. He braked to an abrupt halt however, when he happened upon a person lying on their back on the second floor landing. With her eyes open and mouth slightly agape, Amanda Hall stared dully upwards at Rhodes. A pool of blood was beginning to spread underneath her blonde head, and a bead-sized hole releasing a stream of more red sat squarely in the middle of her forehead. More blood was streaming out of it. Rhodes froze in shock at the sight of one of his own colleagues lying dead before him. It was two seconds before he regained his senses and leapt over Hall’s corpse to continue heading down the stairs to the first floor. He left the stairwell and entered the first floor again, coming out just beside the radiology department and the inactive elevators. When he got there, he saw no movement in the light of his gun and heard no noises. Everything was still again, as if the commotion upstairs never happened. He wiped away the blood that had run down his lips and chin with the back of his fist, then took a few minutes to quickly sweep the entire first floor from the cafeteria to the east and the pharmacy to the west. There was no sign of the man he’d been chasing from the third floor. Rhodes collapsed into a seat by reception, panting heavily. As he was catching his breath, his earpiece came to life. “Rhodes? Yansen. Did you get him?” “No.” “The hell d’you mean, ‘no’?” “I lost him. First floor looks clear.” “Where’s Hall?” “Dead. Second floor landing. Whoever ran must’ve gotten her.” “Fuck!” Yansen yelled over the line, his anger all too palpable. “Now what the fuck do we do?” Rhodes balked at the question. Logically, he’d have to report the hospital assault to Lancer, as well as Hall’s death. He hadn’t been down to the basement tonight yet, but he was fairly certain he’d find the prisoners gone, too. “Can you move?” Rhodes asked his last surviving team member instead. “Yeah, sure.” “Then meet me in the lobby. We need to head back to CFB Calgary, but I want to check the parking sublevels first. Lancer… needs to know about this.” “He sure as shit won’t like this.” Rhodes stifled a sigh and grimaced. He wished he didn’t have to report this fiasco to Lancer, but as tempting as it was to hide this from him, Rhodes doubted he could keep the disappearance of a few dozen prisoners and the decimation of an entire US Army outpost a secret from his superior for long. Who was that man? What lingered on Rhodes’ mind as he pondered that question wasn’t the man’s surprising agility that nearly cost him his life, or the damage the man had done to his nose which was almost certainly broken now. It was those eyes. They were the eyes of someone who bore no signs of debilitation that Rhodes was almost sure should have been there. After all, Rhodes was sure he’d buried his switchblade deeply enough to cause pain at the very least. My switchblade. He gritted his teeth upon realizing he’d left his favourite knife still lodged in the enemy he had lost track of. |