“I wish I could say that wasn’t the case,” Dave said relinquishing the hostile glare that had caught his comrade. “But in this case, it was. That’s why everyone’s cleaning. It is an order. And we have to obey but at the same time, I don’t think anyone here minds. It was terrible how they treated her. Not just that, I’m quite sure we’d all rather clean than do endless laps around the Barracks.”
“Totally,” Michael agreed, feeling guilty for his negligence. “We just came back from doing that and anymore running I think I might have to see the Medical Officer. No doubt I’d end up overdoing it. Where do we start?” Dave told them where to go and what areas to do. With one last look at each other, Noel-Len and Michael quitted the building. Half an hour later, their fingers were sore from pulling the weeds and Michael beamed, “Finished.”
“There you two are.” Corporal Kypreos declared, stopping behind them. His shadow casting over the kneeling soldiers before him. “I was looking for you two everywhere. Why weren’t you at the briefing?”
Noel-Len and Michael stood to attention, “Apologies, Sir.”
Corporal Kypreos regarded the basket at their feet and the recently pulled weeds in it. “Why are you two ... weeding?” This question hindered the perplexity of his gaze. However, the questionable tone of his rough voice was enough to counter the look in his eyes.
“We were ordered to, Sir.” they both responded.
“By who?”
“By Corporal McGuire, Sir.” Ian Kypreos released a frustrated sigh. He glanced at the pale building beside the men and scanned the rest of the garden. All the weeds had been removed.
“You’re relieved of your duties soldiers,” Ian said, unsure if he should be content with those words or not. With a salute and “Sir” hanging in the air, once more, the men left the Corporal heading to their respective stations and carrying out today’s schedule.
Ian Kypreos turned his heel in search of Corporal Melissa McGuire, aware he needed some answers. However, it wasn’t until the end of the day that Ian Kypreos questions were answered. Even it had mounted the anger within him. Later that day, Noel-Len returned home completely knackered. Instantly, falling into a deep slumber unaware of Caprice’s call lighting up his phone.
*
Noel-Len woke to an empty bed, still he smelt her scent. He hadn’t expected when she called for things to happen the way it did, even if it may have been long overdue.
His eyes heavy with sleep and his mind groggy. Images of fear and blood flickered behind his eyes, sitting up he forced the terrible memories to the back of his mind. Climbing out of bed, he assumed it was early morning, the black watch on his left wrist confirmed his suspicions.
Grabbing his clothes, he noted feminine clothing piled at the corner of his bed. With a smile, Noel-Len clutched the clothing and placed them on the bedside table. Hearing the toilet flush then the bathroom door opening. Caprice re-entered the room bare before pecking him on the lips, she climbed back into bed.
Noel-Len smiled at the sight as he pulled on a pair of loose pants. Hearing her deep breathing.
Silently he exited the room.
He massaged, his tired eyes with a stubborn yawn at his lips. Noel-Len without much thought moved to the kitchen and flicked on the light before robotically making a cup of coffee. As he waited for the kettle to boil, Noel-Len’s eyes lingered over the window he had yet to buy curtains for.
His eyes glimpsed an image of a figure in black behind him, leaning on the counter and watching him with a casual smile. Stunned, he spun around and observed the woman who attacked him yesterday. “I see you had a good night.” the stranger implied, her eyes regarded the fresh marks along his neck, peering back at the window Noel-Len scrutinised the marks grateful they’d be hidden by his uniforms.
“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes once again on the woman, as he drifted to the set of knives in the corner of the kitchen.
“Who am I? What am I? The questions are all the same, aren’t they?” she teased, her eyes glimpsing the knives in the corner, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, child.” Her tone, heavy and her eyes deadly.
Noel-Len stopped. His mind working up the images of that day, he glanced at his room, he couldn’t see it now, but he knew that crack in his wall was still there. “I don’t want to hurt you too much if I can avoid it.”
“You didn’t think about that before you strangled me.” Noel-Len retorted.
The woman held up her hands, swiftly crossing her arms, before stepping away from the bench, “I thought you were ... not related to Natalia.” she hesitated, Noel-Len’s ears perked at his mother’s name.
silently he watched the woman, “Who are you? What do you want and how do you know my mother?” Noel-Len asked with anger in his tenor. He was inquisitive to know why a stranger broke into his home and stared at the photo of him and his mother. That alone made his skin crawl.
The woman studied Noel-Len for a moment. The darkness in her gaze matched his, however, her unusually pale skin, not found in the territory, almost glowed under the kitchen light. She assessed Noel-Len with a calculating gaze, contemplating her next words, “My name’s Anaphora and I’m searching for something, I suppose you could say. To answer your last question, believe it or not, your mother and I have quite a long history.”
Noel-Len warily questioned, “In what sense?”
“Friendship. How else?” Noel-Len didn’t respond to that question but instead, drove the conversation elsewhere.
“What are you after?” Noel-Len probed.
“A relic but before that I need to find something to help me with its search. To locate it, I hoped to catch your mother but when I found a clue to where she maybe it led me here. I expected to see a child from that photo, let alone a fully-grown man but ... looking at you. I do see the resemblance to both that child in the photo and your mother.”
Noel-Len fell silent. He recalled a lot of people, especially his father reminding him he took after his mother’s dominating features. Not that he complained, between his parents, his mother appeared to be the one with the above average looks. His father wasn’t too bad, but he knew he probably should be grateful that he inherited his father’s cheekbones and set jaw. “What was the clue?” Noel-Len asked hearing the kettle click, quickly he made his coffee.
“Before I divulge anything further ... I need to know. Where is your mother?” the woman asked. Once again, Noel-Len didn’t speak. His haunted eyes drifted over the woman, her eyes assessed his. The woman, by Noel-Len’s standards, understood the message. His mother was far beyond reach and her time here was literally being wasted. “I see. Given your relation to her, I may or may not be back.” The woman turned away from the bench, Mike sat at her feet, his tail wagging. Anaphora groomed the pet with her slim fingers before leaving.
Noel-Len glared at the dog, “Traitor.” The dog whined in confusion and tilted its head.
He never knew Mike to be utterly friendly to strangers but then again, he wondered how the dog had taken to Caprice. Given that she was in one piece he knew it had a good judge of character.
The dog watched Noel-Len, its tongue hung out of its panting mouth. The dog’s gaze turned away before he moved to his room. “What the hell is going on here?” Noel-Len wondered, his mind reflecting on all the most recent incidents.
It was the sudden shake of the ground and a loud explosion overhead that stalled any further thoughts and instilling his body in fear. The explosions thundered overhead, louder and longer than any storm. Exiting the house, his eyes scanned the skies, hoping to catch an oncoming tropical storm. The dark sky remained dark only rumbled loudly enough to shake the kitchen window he peered out of.
Within moments, overhead, Noel-Len heard the roaring sound of the F18 super hornets soaring through the skies. When he searched the skies for them, he didn’t see one but several all perfectly aligned in formation beneath the cloudy sky. Why are the super hornets in the sky this early? Noel-Len wondered, conscious of the night
sky.
A few seconds later, several green glowing orbs fell towards the ground at rocking speeds enough so that he could hear their decent. The jets fired missiles through the air. Explosions rained through the shady skies and Noel-Len ran into the house calling for Caprice to wake. He loudly heard the outbreak of the aerial war overhead as he ran through the house with the ground trembling the ground beneath his feet as he desperately struggled to dress in his uniform without falling over.
Fearing the worst, he frantically woke Caprice who jumped in surprise at the sight of him roughly shaking her. “Get up! We have to go!” Caprice’s groggy gaze registered once she heard the sound of sirens ringing in the background. Without hesitation but ultimately consumed by fear, Caprice climbed out of bed and started pulling on her clothes.
Noel-Len knew it didn’t matter whether or not he was a reserve. If their home was theoretically ever under attack, he was expected to fight as much as the full-time soldiers. In this case, he hoped he’d run into Michael soon, he’d shed some light on the sudden situation.
Once Caprice and Noel-Len were finally dressed, Noel-Len demanded that Caprice not carry her purse. Only the cards in it, her phone and car keys as they began evacuating the city. Noel-Len gripped Caprice’s hand and guided her out of the house. “Keys!” he called, and Caprice threw the car keys at Noel-Len’s quick fingers as she rounded the car, feeling the danger in the air as the sirens screamed throughout the once silent city. They heard the fearful screams of the other residents and onlookers. Noel-Len noticed several homes piled families and pets into cars before leaving their precious homes at rocketing speeds. Noel-Len heard Mike barking at his feet opening the back-car door, “In you go boy.”
Without hesitation, Mike entered the vehicle. Closing the door, Noel-Len climbed into the driver’s seat while Caprice fastened her seatbelt. Noel-Len started the car, out of habit he threaded on his seatbelt before reversing out of the driveway and racing down the streets. Turning down, a few bends, Noel-Len slammed the brakes at the sight of the last person he expected which he was glad he didn’t hit, “Michael!” Caprice growled, surprised but angry at the sight of Michael in front of the car as he quickly rushed out from yard of an adjacent house.
“Idiot! Get in!” Noel-Len shouted, watching Michael round the bonnet of the car and climb into the back with Mike. Noel-Len saw men, women and children who didn’t have cars run down the road and away from their homes which soon became enraged in flames by the crashed fighter jets. “What the hell? Why are you jumping fences!” Noel-Len growled whilst aiming to avoid hitting other cars and residents.
“What do you mean, by why?” Michael growled. Noel-Len glanced over his shoulder and saw Michael in his military uniform, the same as Noel-Len. “I came looking for you!”
“Shit,” Noel-Len grumbled, steering the BMW. His gaze shifted over the road until he recognised familiar a dark figure with black hair running along the side of the road. He wondered how she made it across the suburbs so quickly.
Before Noel-Len could pull over, he slammed the brakes once more. The car propelled them forward with Michael almost flying through the windscreen. “Put your seatbelt on!” Noel-Len yelled his arm extended, holding his friend in place.
“Sorry but that wasn’t my priority!” Michael yelled back equally loud his raging eyes set on Noel-Len as he yanked the belt over his shoulder.
Both men ignored Mike’s persistent barking.
Readily, an argument erupted between them, while Caprice stared at the sight of a large silver pod at the end of the abandoned road.
She shifted in her seat, pulling her knees to her chest as she watched the pod with evident fear and uncertainty.
Mike continued to bark while Noel-Len and Michael argued.
The pod, Caprice noticed, had an unusually smooth surface lined in a pulsing green hue that brightened and receded in colour as if it were breathing. Caprice watched the alien pod. Within a single breath, it shifted, into a towering alien and she screamed.
Both sets of eyes landed on her and she pointed at the pod. “Crap.” Noel-Len and Michael muttered. The humanoid robot, taller than a truck stared at their idle car.
The smooth texture of the armour remained as did the glowing and ebbing colour of green that once lined the large pod. Expect there were no windows to determine if someone was inside or not.
All eyes watched the robot as it shifted into a ready to sprint stance. “Noel-Len...” Caprice began.
His name barely made it to his ears even when her fearful eyes never left the robot as did. Instantly, it sprinted towards the car and Noel-Len reversed as fast as the car could take him. His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror and back on the approaching robot.
The car, reversed along the road, avoiding obstructions, as the robot chased them. To everyone’s surprise, a dark force so fast and powerful, that almost made Noel-Len lose control of the vehicle, struck the machine and halted its assault.
Noel-Len slammed the brakes and shoved the joystick into first gear, disregarding Mike falling off the seat.
He watched the black cladded figure of that woman he had seen moments before, force the robot into the ground with her fist.
The surrounding windows of nearby houses shattered as the car Noel-Len and the others were in shuttered under the force of the impact and the ground readily split.
The robot didn’t remain defeated. It climbed to its feet and the woman moved quick as she did back at the house. Disappearing within a blink of an eye. “What the ... hell?” Michael said, utterly loss for words. Noel-Len watched in anticipation, as the woman battled the monster as if it were child’s play. Michael said to Noel-Len still staring at the battle in front of them, “I think ... we’re out-classed.”
9
ANAPHORA, SENT THROUGH ANOTHER MISSION.
Information on the next Xzandian meeting. A mission she’d be expected to complete on her own news that surprised her. “I thought I failed,” she answered Anaphora through a live feed. “You want me to complete this mission alone?”
“You had failed. As for the last mission they expected you to kill her, but we’ve learned enough from her for now. This next mission should lead us closer to her.” Gothalia was aware, of the package and knew this Xzandians would aid the Xzandian Scouts. However, this time her job was to record nothing more.
They expected her to keep her distance and keep hidden.
Three hours later, Gothalia watched from a distant rooftop undetected. Her stomach lined the hard-cold rooftop floor, when the Xzandian described from the de-briefing package, arrived. He’d disguised himself as a regular human, travelling the streets of Moscow without care. He would have been mistaken as any other Russian woman, dressed in a fashionable black over coat and deep blue jeans tucked beneath leather boots.
Discreetly, he entered the cafe.
If Gothalia hadn’t seen him earlier and it was a he—with broad shoulders and thicker frame mould into a smaller and slender version of the Human Race. If it weren’t for Argos words—“don’t act reckless and don’t blow your next missions if you don’t want to be suspended for the next two weeks without pay”—she’d taken him out. As she pondered on it Gothalia hadn’t understood why he had implied pay.
The money Gothalia had earned from her missions was hardly touched, unless she needed to get more food when L’Eiron and Anaphora didn’t or were too busy. It wasn’t that she expected them to get her food, Gothalia just assumed it was from years of habit. As for rent, it was never a question.
Her home wasn’t something she’d be proud of... everyone would call her spoilt that is if they didn’t know of why her home had been stained with the blood her kin. Even if she couldn’t entirely remember how it had happened or who had done it.
Her dark eyes watched the disguised Xzandian with interest. He’d acted friendly and pleasant—almost too pleasant when he’d sat down, tucking his black hair behind his ear and turning his face away from the other guests. Even from h
is isolated table far from the windows of the cafe. If it weren’t for Gothalia’s already pre-determined position, she wouldn’t have noticed his behaviour he’d made appear natural.
Kronos wouldn’t have been able to hack into the surveillance cameras, regardless if it was closed circuited within this particular cafe. The Xzandians had appeared to be well informed when choosing this particular cafe as it had a reputation of hosting dangerous men and women.
Explaining their reason for lack of cameras.
After all, those who’d started fights or any problems, as she had seen before the Xzandian had arrived, were taken to the alley way to the side and forced into a black car—no doubt never to be seen again as they once were. A thought, that had made Gothalia’s skin crawl.
Gothalia’s attention perked when a woman with pale platinum blond hair, brushed methodically to fine detail. It was when the woman peered into the cafe in the direction of the table the Xzandian sat at Gothalia tapped the side of her headpiece and ordered Kronos, “Zoom in.”
The faceplate equipped with handsfree binoculars zoomed in, taking woman’s details further. She’d taken images of the woman and the Xzandian when Kronos uttered, “My lady. Wouldn’t it be wiser for you to request the company of another?” There was almost a concern to his tone but Gothalia brushed it off.
“No.”
“I think it would be.” Krono commented, before allowing the conversation within the cafe to filter into her ears.
“Lady Emily, I’m pleased you could make it.” the Xzandian articulated with a pleasurable smile. “All that remains is the payment.” The blond-haired woman browsed the doors of the café. It sat briefly off to the side on the opposite side of the tables, ensuring that no one else was watching. Discretely, she pulled out a white thin envelop and slid it assiduously to the black-haired woman opposite her.
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