“Damn it,” she said, feeling dissatisfied. She stood there staring, taking the moment in fully. Finally, she found a bit of resolve. Her fellow soldiers watched as she launched a wad of spit down at the corpse.
Chapter 7 - Exhibition
April 5, 2065 - UNR Headquarters: ER Section
Major Johnson lay in his hospital bed, which admittedly, was not all that bad in terms of comfort. The room lacked any real odor, which was a lot better than the infamous “hospital smell.” A gourmet meal consisting of a Jamón ibérico sandwich with a side of baked sweet potato fries had been presented to him only moments ago. It smelled heavenly, but Avery could only stare at the food blankly. His leg throbbed constantly, but that wasn’t what distressed him. How could we have been so sloppy? So caught off guard? In his very speech just hours ago, he’d said they were “untouchable, invincible, and unbreakable.” And yet, the Chancellor had come so close to being killed. Their savior nearly murdered before the eyes of millions.
“Hey,” said Will as he entered the room. He seated himself next to Avery on his bed, who only looked at him silently. Will saw a bouquet of roses, some chocolates, and dozens of get-well cards on the nightstand on the other side of the room. One card read: Hey, I know you’re having a shitty day, but at least one thing turned out okay: you still got to see me. Will smiled faintly. Damn Luis.
“Your wife wasted no time getting you your favorite dish, I see. I’m impressed,” Will said.
“Yeah, it took me a war of my own just to convince her to head back to work. I don’t plan on being in here for more than two days.”
Avery’s tone saturated the words with both humor and conviction.
“Don’t rush it. This is the one place where you might actually get to relax. I see a lot of the guys left you gifts. I should’ve done the same then, huh?”
Avery laughed, giving the nightstand a quick glance.
“Oh, you noticed the pile. There’s no need, I’ll just end up throwin’ it all away when I get out of here.”
“Probably so,” Will agreed amusedly.
“But you, you son of a bitch,” the Major said, “you really are something. You saved the Chancellor, not to mention my ass. If not for you, we’d both be dead right now.”
“Maybe so, Avery, but still…” Will replied, pausing for a moment. His smile disappeared, “We underestimated them. To think it would have come to that, a bloodbath in the middle of a damn victory speech. I’m not quite sure how to feel about this.”
“Regardless, they failed, Will. Thanks to you. And the bastards are all dead. That’s got to be some level of condolences for the families of both the soldiers and civvies alike.”
“Perhaps we were too confident. Trust me, I won’t let it happen again.”
“Well, the Chancellor must be thinking the same thing. Have you met the new cyborg unit? She apprehended the two on the roof top, and nicely done.”
“Why wasn’t I told?”
“The cyborg was barely admitted into our district yesterday. I guess Venloran assumed it would be useful to keep it confidential. They seemed to have it very well planned out if you ask me. But I bet a third cyborg was unexpected.”
Will realized that he was right. If that third operative hadn’t been there, the others would’ve escaped. And if her presence had been made public, he rationalized they would’ve figured some way around her.
“I see your point,” Will answered, “what’s her identification number?”
“Um, let me think…” Avery pondered to himself, “Oh, yes, Unit 23, I believe. Not too bad looking either, for one of you.”
“Very funny,” said Will.
“I hear she and the others just got done debriefing with Kane and the Chancellor. Are you going to introduce yourself or do I have to do it for you?”
“Yeah, I’ll get to that. You worry about eating something.”
***
Will saw the doors to the training area up ahead, but still couldn’t decide on whether to be gracious or distant toward the new cyborg unit.
He finally entered the room. Inside were a few others, including Luis, Mitch, Hans, and of course Cisco. In front of the group was the new woman. She was attractive, as the Major had stated earlier, and without the armor, it was even more evident. She wore a black tank top, with matching shorts that stopped an inch or two above the knees. Workout gloves covered her hands, which were small and deceptively gentle looking. Slim yet well toned in muscle, on the outside the woman appeared ordinary. In reality, everyone knew she was far from it.
Will stepped closer, noticing the beads of sweat glistening on her body. Her black hair had several areas of blond highlights. Everyone else finally seemed to notice him.
“Will, where you been?” stated Luis, “We’ve all been waiting on you.”
“Sorry, I had to get those bullets pulled out of my back one by one.”
“Oh, yeah, how could I forget?” he laughed, turning toward the woman, “This is Will.”
Will saw her eyes turn toward him. She walked over first, putting out one hand.
“So, you’re the one – S.S. A. Unit 21,” she said as they shook hands, “in your heyday you were The Grim Reaper. I never thought I’d get the pleasure.”
“Likewise. Unit 23, right? One of the First Fifty.”
“Yes, although I prefer to be called Valerie. Val for short, if you please.”
Will smiled at that.
“All right, fair enough. If you're up to it I'd like a little exhibition match. Let’s see what caliber of soldier you really are.”
Luis looked at his comrade for a moment.
“You really have a funny way of getting to know people.”
To everyone’s surprise, Val just grinned. In fact, she seemed overly eager.
“Sounds like fun to me. I just got re-activated two weeks ago, so forgive me if I’m a bit out of form.”
“In that case I might just go easy on you.”
The two cyborgs stepped onto the matted area of the large room. Will tossed off his overcoat, unbuckling the shoulder straps on his chest armor, which he removed as well. Luis paid close attention. Things had definitely escalated to beyond interesting.
“How do you want to do this?” she asked, stretching her legs.
“Are you good with edged weapons?” Will asked in return, as he drew his sword, the long blade gleaming under the bright lights.
“You'll see,” she replied simply.
She looked over at Luis. He understood what she wanted, and threw her one of his own swords. She quickly unsheathed it, and from the way she held it, Luis could tell she knew what she was doing.
“Be careful children,” commented Mitch. These people and their swords, he thought. He utterly despised working with the cyborgs, but this exhibition would at least entertain him. While he’d seen cyborgs take out men hundreds of times, this would be the first time he watched two duke-it-out among themselves.
“They're going through with this? Isn't it a little dangerous?” asked Cisco.
“Don't panic. Just relax and enjoy the show,” said Luis calmly. Cisco still wasn't fully convinced, but the others were equally as mellow.
Will got into the proper posture. Val began to move in slowly. She swung at Will, aiming high at his neck. Everyone in the room, even Luis, was startled at the aggressiveness of the opening strike. Will displayed no surprise at all, easily blocking her swing. Val followed up by striking at his legs. That too, was easily blocked. Then the two backed away from one another.
The opponents began to circle like predators closing in on a target. Suddenly they both swung at the same time, the swords colliding so hard they actually sparked. Their strength seemed evenly matched, to the surprise of Mitch. As everyone watched on, only Luis was smiling.
Will broke the hold and two began to swing and lunge at each other. At a distance, it would appear the two were taking part in a graceful dance, the movements so swift and cleanly executed. The only sound was the o
ccasional clang of the metal blades. Will was getting more serious as it dragged on. He swung harder and faster, but Val kept up with him without much trouble.
He took the offensive, pushing her back with relentless attacks. Their swords clashed together again, but this time Will put more force into his shove, knocking her backward and nearly off her feet. I got you. Will swung downwards, and a small cut appeared on her smooth arm. The red line of blood was shorter than her pinky, but it was a blow no less, and during an exhibition match. Will swung again and Valerie once again met his blade without difficulty. Luis raised an eyebrow. He saw the move before it was even played.
Valerie rammed her elbow into Will's face. He wiped his bleeding lip, laughing. Cisco watched intently as blood dripped onto the matted floor. He hadn't even been aware the cyborgs could bleed, but it certainly wasn’t stopping them.
Will took a swipe at his opponent, but Valerie maneuvered behind him in a flash. Before he knew it, she delivered a small cut to his shoulder, a bit longer than the one he'd inflicted on her. Without even turning, Will put a foot out to trip her, causing her to land flat on her back. He rushed to finish it, and sooner than she realized, his sword was aligned horizontally against her neck.
Will could hardly marvel at the achievement, though, as he suddenly became conscious of her sword, pointing directly up at his right eye, barely an inch away. Even down on the ground, Valerie managed to execute a killing stroke. At that, both soldiers rested their swords. Will put out a hand, which she gladly took. The others were in astonishment. Luis stepped up to them, clapping.
“Tacky, but overall pretty decent,” he admitted.
“Thanks,” Val said, turning once more to Will, “you’re as good as they say.”
“Well, I decided to take it easy on you, like I said I would. I didn't want to scar that face of yours.”
“Oh, really? Well, hopefully there’ll be a time when we can do this again. I enjoyed it.”
“Yeah, I look forward to it.”
Chapter 8 – War and the Sword
April 6, 2065 - Location: Undisclosed
I blew her away when she couldn’t even strike a counter defense. I’m a true badass. The man would never be able to etch the sight of that corpse out of his mind. He’d showered right after the mission, shaved his face, and had a real beer to quench his thirst. Not all the hops in the world could help him now, though. Seated on his cot, he rubbed his scraped and badly bleeding knuckles. Across the room from him, the dingy wall had a series of cracks in it, even a few smudges of crimson against the gray paint. The bookshelf was now empty of books, and his desk was turned over. Stacks of paper covered the floor, like leaves in autumn. A young woman stopped in the doorway of his quarters, watching in silence, as a tear rolled down her cheek. A tall man joined her, but he did not intervene, either.
“Jacob,” said the woman with delicacy, stepping inside to sit down next to him, “it's going to be all right. We’ll get through this.”
She held his battered hand tightly. Jacob, whose light face was red with anger, could only look away.
“Gabby, how can you possibly say that?” he said, trying to remain calm. Both could hear his voice growing louder, “How can you say that when so many people are dead? Dead! Never coming back! We risked it all and more! And, we sent them to their deaths for what ultimately amounted to little more than a publicity stunt!”
“Don't say that!” she now yelled back, “As if I don't feel the same way. I knew them just as well as you did.”
“Vic, Angie, Hayes. Do you want me to continue? We can't even bury them!” he replied, ripping his hand free of hers. “We can't go through with this plan. I won't. It's not worth it, Gabby. I know you see that.”
“They knew the risk,” she said weakly.
“I’ll tell you what they didn’t know: that so many civilians were going to get fucking killed.”
The woman had nothing to say, nothing at all against those words. She stood up, standing a distance away from Jacob now. Gabby sniffled as a tear rolled down her cheek. She cleared a strand of her brunette hair out of her face as she turned to look at him again.
“All right then,” she said in a clear tone, “if that's what you want. I'll call it off and tell everyone the operation's cancelled. Here we are relying on you as a leader. Father is lying ill in his bed, counting on you to continue what he started. But I guess if our leader is to quit, who's to say we're not cowards to do the same?”
Jacob couldn’t look her in the eye anymore at this point. She turned to leave, done trying to reason with him. Neal watched as she left.
“You know she’s right,” he said, “after all, you did promise your father to pick up the slack.”
“I know what I promised,” Jacob interrupted, “but I can't sacrifice people like this.”
“We're going up against the UNR, man. We'd be lying to ourselves if we said there wouldn't be losses. And I will certainly not say these will be the last. What I will say is that if enough blood, sweat, and tears go into this, we can do it.”
Jacob lifted his head, running a hand over his short brown hair. He stood up and walked over to Neal. He embraced his friend, and though the moment was brief, the hold was strong.
“Thanks, man,” Jacob said, “shit gets out of hand sometimes, you know?”
“We bear this pain together. Remember that if we’re gonna prevail.”
As Gabriella walked down the hall, she heard the voice of her older brother:
“Gabby!” he called.
She turned to face him, waiting for what he had to say.
“I know how I've been acting,” he admitted. She could hear the tension in his voice. Even now it was hard for him to let go. He spoke calmly.
“It won't get us anywhere, I realize that.”
Gabby smiled and ran into his arms. Neal watched and leaned against the wall. Those two, he admired, always a sight to see.
“Who exactly were you trying to fool anyway? I know you’d never quit, even if I did,” he added, “don't forget to pack the extra ammunition, okay kid?”
“I knew you hadn’t given up, Lieutenant,” she said cheerfully.
“Only on my days off,” he joked, but his relaxed face gave way to a serious one. His ice blue eyes shined magnificently, “Just give me some time. I need to be alone for a little while.”
Gabby only nodded her compliance in her identical eyes. She turned to leave, Neal in tow. Her brother remained in the hall for a moment, watching them leave. Neal was like a second sibling and for his words, she was always grateful.
“Neal, thanks for what you said back there. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to convince him,” Gabby said as they walked away. Relief had finally washed over her in the middle of the turbulent time.
“I was working with your brother and your father long before you entered the picture, don’t forget.”
They were almost at the mess hall, but it was then Neal walked ahead of Gabby before blocking her path to the entrance. She could tell by the angered look on his face he had something to say.
“I joined up with your father because he has an objective I can’t ignore. It’s taken a lot of prepping and a lot of sacrifice to get where we are, and I don’t want you ruining everything with anymore side-operations.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know damn well. I know you put Jacob up to organizing that assault at the press conference. He knew better than to do something so reckless, but I’m sure he found it hard to disagree with you.”
“I didn’t want to spoil the opportunity. We came so close, too.”
“At the expense of putting heat on our inside sources?!” Neal brought his voice to a near yell, before lowering it again.
“We need a victory, Neal. That last shipment loss will set us back months, maybe even longer. In the meantime we have to show everyone that the resistance hasn’t died.”
Neal scoffed outright, shaking his head.
“Spoken li
ke a true leader,” he mocked, “I hate to say it Gabby, but your rank was given to you by your father, and as much as I love the man he’s not a military expert. If you had earned it like me and Jacob, you might understand the value of a soldier’s life a little better.”
Gabby’s fire had been snuffed out and as much she despised that, nothing could be said. She knew she had lost this one.
“I’m sorry…” she began.
“Don’t even,” Neal said. He hated having to berate her and even she could sense that now, “I don’t have the time. There’s still the eulogy to deliver. Don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”
He shoved his way through the flapping doors, as Gabby watched them open and close for a few seconds. She felt a tad shaken by her friend’s anger and then felt the guilt climb. She had given those orders all right, but she’d given them what they’d wanted. Or was it what I wanted? She knew this line of thinking would have to wait, and also entered the mess hall, now full of mourners.
Jacob meanwhile, returned to his small, now destroyed, room and turned to the one thing he knew could bring him any real comfort. In the corner of his room was a small fridge, containing only a single large bottle of scotch. The barely-working machine had kept the beverage only slightly cold, but for what it was worth, he was glad to have it. Jacob returned to his cot, taking a long, slow drink from the bottle. He let it ease his tension, his stomach gurgling before he took another gulp, this one larger than the previous one. At last, he laid down, draping an arm over his face.
***
April 6, 2065 - Early Morning Outside UNR Headquarters
The Remote Delivery Facility was still a very vital part of the new building. However, a few things had changed. The four grass squares that used to compose the Grasspave2 heliports, as well as the relic concrete helicopter landing site, had been done away with for a small park, known as Warren Sanctuary, named after the Chancellor’s son.
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