by Matt Roberts
“You two head out the east side. Ambrose and O’Brien are on the way west. Work it out.” Sully disabled his comms.
“Work it out,” Shaw grumbled under his breath. “What does he expect us to do?”
“To get moving.” Owyn’s reply was blunt. “I’d rather not be anywhere near here when that bomb goes off.” He marched onwards, forcing Shaw to plod along after him.
They stayed up high, cautious of catching the eyes of snipers and rooftop patrols. Progress was slow. The ground was littered with soldiers, and all but one or two building tops were occupied at any one time, meaning that Owyn and Shaw were constantly being driven in circles without moving much closer to the eastern watchtower. With the timer having now ticked below four minutes, Owyn stopped and assessed their surroundings.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shaw asked in a harsh whisper.
Owyn ignored him. He pointed towards one of the towering light poles that were dotted around the walls casting a glow upon the compound. A temporary base like this usually relied on half a dozen generators at most, and those generators didn’t react much better to a sudden burst of high current than a human heart.
“So what? I can’t take them all out so what use will that do us.”
Owyn sighed. Shaw really wasn’t presenting a good case for his own intellect. “Just shoot it, dumbass.”
Shaw huffed a disgruntled sigh but nonetheless complied. He lay down with his rifle, aimed, and pulled sharply on the trigger. Shattered glass clattered to the ground as the pulse from the bullet overloaded one of the generators causing several floodlights to burst all at once, plunging the eastern side of the base into complete blackness.
“Let’s move,” Owyn ordered.
He jumped down and into the maze of alleyways that weaved their way from one end of the base to the other. They cut left then right, ducking through the blind side of a group of soldiers. Another pair caught sight of them, but a quick shot from Owyn followed up by another from Shaw muted their cries for help before they could even drag the air into their lungs.
The still smouldering ruins of the eastern watchtower were only a few seconds away, although reaching them meant crossing through the open. Owyn held up to give Shaw time to catch up to him. There were too many men for them to avoid detection. Some soldiers were rummaging through the wreckage in search of survivors while at least a dozen more were on guard duty. Their only chance was to create another distraction. Owyn readied a grenade and awaited the perfect opportunity.
“Now or never, Carter.” Shaw was as supportive as ever.
He let loose, and on impact the grenade let out a flash of white light. Owyn’s gun deactivated, as did Shaw’s. The grenade was a local EMP, so as well as serving as a distraction, it meant that gunfire from electric powered weapons wouldn’t be an issue – for a few seconds at least.
With blades in hand the pair raced out from cover and cut straight through the enemy lines. One soldier managed to grab a hold of Owyn’s arm, but a simple slash of his knife was enough to set him free. Leaping up onto a protruding ledge they made their way inside the crippled structure.
The tower’s aching supports cried out under their weight, and the searing hot floor hissed against their boots as they met the surface. Shaw helped Owyn up through a chasm in the ceiling before the favour was returned from above. Scorched and decapitated corpses were strewn across the floor. The supports creaked loudly once again and the entire building lurched forward, bringing it closer to collapse. Owyn and Shaw continued their climb, this time taking advantage of a fallen girder to reach the next level. Now that the EMP had worn off they had bullets raining down on them. A sniper shot whistled past Shaw’s head, missing the mark by mere inches. His instinct was retaliation, and so he spun around, knelt down and landed a bullet perfectly between the eyes of the culprit.
They ran for the opening. Less than two minutes remained. It was a fifteen metre drop to the desert floor, but this wasn’t the time for indecision. Owyn used his final drops of fuel to fire his thrusters, propelling him over the last of the debris. He made it out, but his take-off was far from smooth. With the impact rapidly approaching he was upside-down in the air with no way of righting himself. He couldn’t land on his head, so flung an arm out to shield himself.
His body crashed to the ground and he used his momentum to roll over before springing to his feet and launching into a sprint. Shaw was up ahead, and beyond him were the shadowy outlines of a pair of jets coming to roost. Each stride felt like less progress than the last as Owyn’s feet failed to find solid ground and clouds of dust and sand bellowed out behind him.
“We’re running out of time,” Sully notified them. There wasn’t enough panic in his voice to drive Owyn’s heart any faster, but as his timer fell into double digits his nerves began to jangle.
He hurled himself inside the jet’s airlock and scrambled across the floor to find something to grab hold of as they lifted off with the door still wide open. Immediately they jolted upwards. In the midst of the ascent, as the wind tugged relentlessly at Owyn’s ankles, the air began shaking with a terrifying rumbling. It was like a tsunami and a volcanic eruption happening all at once, while a landslide pounded boulders into the ground. Owyn turned his head over his shoulder and through the shrinking opening of the airlock door he caught a glimpse of the ground around the base glowing bright blue. Fissures were forming in the earth, ripping through the compound. The pieces then began to fall inwards. Buildings were sucked through the cracks as the walls around them crumbled and broke apart.
Finally the shockwave arrived. The jet lurched forward, thrusting Owyn into the wall. His head crashed against the metal and his vision flashed to black. He was out cold.
CHAPTER 5
MILLER
Owyn awoke dazed and disorientated. His head was throbbing as though ready to burst yet all he could feel was the searing pain in his arm and side. When he had been thrown back by the explosion his ribs had taken as much of the impact as his head and it quickly became clear that a fair few had fractured to match his elbow, which had suffered the consequences of his improvised landing. And, as his eyes steadily came into focus, his already unpleasant mood sank a little further into the depths. Instead of finding himself lying on a warm, soft bed in medical he was still crumpled in the exact same spot on the hard metal floor of the jet’s airlock where he’d been when he last saw light.
He rolled over, bringing on a fresh surge of agony that provoked a sorry groan. Squinting, he could just about make out a figure sitting against the wall opposite him.
“You alright O?” Sully asked.
“Not really, no,” Owyn croaked. As he imagined himself looking that should have been fairly apparent without the need for clarification. He dropped his head back to the floor and closed his eyes. “Why the hell aren’t I in medical?”
“O’Brien’s orders. She said it’d do you good to quote; ‘get off your ass and walk yourself there.’”
“Charming. Did Ambrose agree to that?”
“Ambrose was long gone by the time we got here.” He paused momentarily then jumped straight to the question. “You knew he was leaving didn’t you?”
“Does this seem like a good time to you?” Owyn’s patience was beginning to wear a little thin. He let out another illegible yowl as he provoked another sudden rush of pain. “Fuck you O’Brien,” he grumbled as though somehow she was going to hear him.
“Hey, you’re the one who tries to chat her up while she beats the crap out of you every training session. You don’t have to tell me how much of a bitch she is,” Sully jested.
Owyn grinned weakly, shaking his head. “How long was I out?” he asked, as he finally attempted to prop himself up, coughing and spluttering as he did.
“Three hours, give or take. I’m not sure exactly when you decided to knock your pretty head and miss the rest of the show. It was one hell of a show.”
“I bet.” Owyn rolled his eyes. He gasped loudly as one of
his broken ribs knocked against the wall on his way up.
“You really aren’t in good shape, are you?” Sully was finally beginning to express some honest concern. “What the hell happened back there?”
“You’ve just noticed, huh? That explosion gave me a royal beating. That’s what happened. And it turns out I’m pretty shitty at landing without my thrusters.”
“Whatever that bomb was made of, it sure packed a punch. If I’d stayed on the ground any longer then I don’t think we’d have escaped the blast.”
Owyn thought back, bringing the image of the devastation back into his mind. It had cut straight through everything. The facility, a whole mile of solid rock above it, everything. How was that even possible? That facility was state of the art, and the weapon was hardly bigger than a can of beans.
“O?” Sully said as he noticed Owyn’s eyes drifting off into the distance.
Owyn broke out of his trance. He groaned again as the pain came flooding back.
“Come on. Let’s get you to medical before you pass out on me again.” Sully helped him to his feet. “What happened to Ambrose back there? The plan was for the two of you to enter the facility together but as far as I could tell he never went under.”
“I’d love to know. He got me in then vanished. Now he’s fucked off to God knows where.” He sighed, knowing that there was no use in expressing his frustration. Ambrose was gone. “Did everyone else make it back in one piece?” he asked as Sully carried him out into the hangar.
“Yup. Everything went to plan. Shaw and O’Brien took out the watchtowers then as soon as you went under they dealt with the jammers. Evac went as smoothly as it could have.”
“Good,” Owyn said with relief.
“You must have taken a bigger knock to the head than I thought. Since when did you care about anyone but yourself?”
“Ah fuck off,” Owyn joked. “I’m allowed to be soft for once in my life.”
After treatment and twelve hours rest, Owyn’s broken arm and ribs had been reconstructed and restored to pristine condition leaving him fully fit and able to attend the morning training session – much to his relief, naturally.
Each of ISO’s four squads had access to its own training room on Deck Five of HQ with every one consisting of an individual ‘Holopad’ for each Operative. Much as the name implied, they were small platforms – about the size of a boxing ring – which generated holographic opponents for close quarters combat training. Combat was seen by ISO as the best way to develop the strength, speed and reflexes that were needed by an Operative and so, without the facilities to simulate realistic mission scenarios, Holopads were the primary mode of training.
By the time the medics had managed to force Owyn out of his bed O’Brien and Shaw were already hard at work. “All fixed up, Carter?” O’Brien said as she faced up to her latest opponent.
“I might even have made it here on time if you hadn’t left me with five broken bones and a concussion.”
O’Brien ducked out of the way of a lunge and knocked her opponent to the ground with a swift blow to the back of the head. “There wouldn’t be anyone to hold your hand if you took a hit on the field. Why should there be here?”
Owyn squinted at her – not that she was looking. “Yeah. Perfectly reasonable logic.”
O’Brien shrugged nonchalantly before launching into her next fight.
“You still favour your right side more than you should,” Owyn pointed out. “I’ve told you, it’s a weakness. We can’t afford to have weaknesses.”
O’Brien continued to lead with her right, swinging a shot into the ribs to stun and a chop through the legs to finish. “Focus on your own weaknesses, Carter. You’ve got plenty enough to keep you occupied.”
“If you have a problem then it puts the whole team at risk, not just you.”
O’Brien finally turned around to face him. “Fine. If you’re so worried then come and show me how it’s done.”
Owyn hopped up onto his own holopad and stepped back into his corner. “Give me a chance to warm up at least.”
Opposite him a man appeared, heavily armoured from head to toe and equipped with a blade in either hand. O’Brien watched on with both hands planted on her hips. While his opponent set his stance ready to pounce, Owyn stood up straight.
His opponent charged straight at him and Owyn waited until the last available moment to shift to the side, using the momentum of the charge to hurl him over the side so that he disintegrated into a million crystals of white light that quickly vanished into thin air.
O’Brien shook her head in disapproval. “Maybe you should start taking training seriously before you try giving me advice. Cheap tricks don’t do any of us any good.”
“I don’t like to keep you waiting, that’s all.” Owyn stepped across and readied himself.
“Alright,” O’Brien said a drawn out breath. “Get it over with then.”
Owyn held back to his corner, closely monitoring every detail of O’Brien’s stance and movement. As he had expected, she had moved her feet to give extra protection to her left leg. In doing so, she had pushed herself a touch further onto her back foot and muted the sting of her right-hand attack. She gave a good enough effort to mask it, but Owyn knew that it allowed him to launch a full offensive without fear of a counter. She would have to lower her defences eventually, opening herself up for a finishing strike.
Owyn moved sharply into an attack, but rather than playing defensive, O’Brien aimed a swipe with her left leg, dealing a heavy blow to his hip. He stepped off slightly to reassess his approach. The impact had numbed his right leg. He moved across to protect it.
O’Brien circled around, gradually pulling him around before dipping and launching a fist towards his spine. He dodged successfully, but unwittingly offered up his weakened side to attack. An impact to his underarm left him with no means of defence. O’Brien followed up by kicking his feet out from under him and then pinned him to the ground with her knee.
“Is your mind at ease now?” she asked in a fittingly sarcastic tone. “A preference isn’t a weakness if you know how to manage it.” She released the pressure from Owyn’s back.
“You never learn do you Carter?” Shaw mocked from across the room.
Owyn quietly dragged himself up from the floor. O’Brien moved gingerly back across to her corner, wincing slightly every time her weight fell on her left leg. It wasn’t ever worth digging into peoples’ pasts, Owyn knew that. Nobody ever liked what they found out. She was too stubborn to admit she was carrying an injury, never mind give full details on what caused it so he wasn’t getting anything out of her either way. Whatever it was, she’d had the same problem since he’d met her. It hadn’t caused her any serious problems so far so maybe it was just as inconsequential as she claimed it to be.
As the session came to a close Owyn packed up and prepared to return to his quarters. Footsteps were approaching from down the hallway. He didn’t think anything of it at first. Sully often paid them a visit after sessions so it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Captain Miller?” Shaw exclaimed. It was as animated as he had sounded in years. That was enough to send a shiver down Owyn’s spine.
“Lieutenant now, I’m afraid,” came the answer. “The ranks haven’t been so kind here on Altaris.”
Owyn froze. He had hoped never to hear that voice again.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shaw followed up.
Owyn reluctantly lifted his head, though doing best to hide away in plain sight. Sure enough he saw the pale figure of Anders Miller towering in the doorway. His cleanly shaven head, tarnished by the visibly angular dent just above his right temple, struck a stark contrast against his thick, precisely shaped black beard.
“I’ve been assigned to take command of ISO and lead Alpha Squad in Lieutenant Ambrose’s stead.” Miller said.
Owyn didn’t move a muscle. Suddenly he wished his injuries were worse than they had seemed; that he was still lying
unconscious in medical and this was all just an invention of his imagination.
“Something stuck in your throat, Carter?” Miller said.
“No,” Owyn muttered.
“I’m sorry to hear it,” he snarled.
Miller had been the Captain of Owyn and Shaw’s XION squad on Earth. His years of service almost matched up to Ambrose, but his willingness to follow protocol was often brought into question. He was erratic, unpredictable and brutal. He wasn’t ISO material.
“I hope Ambrose has done a damn good job of putting you into line. I won’t stand for any shit this time, Carter. Remember that.” Satisfied that he had made an impact, he headed out. “Back here in thirty,” he reminded the team.
With his back turned, Owyn finally found the courage to step up. “Is that why you came here?”
Miller stopped. He took a long breath. This, he was going to enjoy.
“For payback?” Owyn continued.
Miller spun back around and walked slowly towards him. “No, as much as you’d love to hear it, I didn’t come here for you. It wasn’t my decision to make. I’m here by request.” He waited until he was no more than an inch from Owyn’s face then lowered his voice. “But that doesn’t mean fate didn’t have a say.” He smiled softly. “It seems running off to join Ambrose’s little dream team wasn’t your escape after all.”
Owyn locked into Miller’s stare. Miller was tempting him, drawing him into retaliation. He was happy to oblige. “Running off? I was given an opportunity and I took it. Shaw did exactly the same. Are you telling me that in my situation you’d have stayed? Or did you just love killing too much to let it go?”
“Shaw left with my permission. You saw the opportunity and you ran. You abandoned us. You abandoned your country and you abandoned your friends. I couldn’t live with your conscience.”
Owyn’s anger was intensifying. Letting himself release his fury now was the worst thing he could do. Miller wanted an excuse to paint a target on his back and this was exactly that. Owyn knew it yet he wasn’t about to back down – not a chance. “I didn’t have any friends there. If I had then you’d have killed them anyway.”