Hawks Effect_Dangerous Reunion

by Rael Wissdorf

  “For now,” echoed Hanzoh, looking directly at Sinza.

  “You may think you know this man,” Sinza warned. “But you wouldn’t be so quick to trust if you knew who he really was.”

  Galicia grunted an assent as she managed enough strength to rise to her knees. The redhead wondered at the commando’s words, as she lifted her younger sister back to her feet. What was more disconcerting was the fact that Lieutenant Gavrael had said nothing in response to their assertions. Nevertheless, their main priority was getting away from Athena’s domain. Other questions could wait.

  “If you want me, then you’ll have to take the lot of us,” she said with finality. “It’s your call.”

  The other women nodded in agreement.

  Gavrael scowled in irritation but said nothing. With a nod to the sergeant, a green field of CCE surrounded and immobilized the four women. A moment later, a tendril of green power easily separated Laurina from the group.

  “You are correct,” the Lieutenant smiled. “It is my call.”

  A shower of protests and curses erupted from women as they struggled in vain to free themselves from the emerald force that bound them. As their screams increased, another nod to Hanzoh resulted in the field expanding enough to cover their faces, silencing their voices as they continued to rant.

  “Damn, Hanz. I think my ears are bleeding!”

  His friend laughed. “Better you than me.” His face sobered. “Still, it might be better to take them all. It'll probably make our charge more cooperative as well.”

  Gavrael pondered the sergeant’s suggestion. While it was contrary to the mission, he did have the two terrorists finally in his grasp, killing two birds with one stone. While the status of the gladiator with them was unclear, he would have to treat her as an accomplice until the facts sorted themselves out. He looked directly into Laurina’s eyes taking her measure. The determination written on the woman’s face convinced him to agree with Hanzoh’s assessment. After her previous displays of power, gaining her cooperation seemed to be the most prudent course.

  With a sigh, he turned and nodded to his aide and friend. Hanzoh released the twin fields holding the captives.

  “You win,” Gavrael announced to the women. “We will take all four of you. Time is of the essence, however, so I need your cooperation in order for us to get to safety. Hanz...”

  The sergeant stepped forward and pulled several small metal pins from one of his pockets. He then proceeded to clip one onto the clothing of each woman, blushing as he did so, seeing that Sinza, Li’l Doro, and Laurina were still wearing their revealing battle attire. After several awkward moments, he managed to find enough cloth on each of them to attach the devices, fumbling as he inadvertently touched Lil Doro’s ample left breast as he did so.

  “Having fun,” she teased, causing his face to burn crimson. Mumbling an apology, Hanzoh sheepishly walked back to Gavrael’s side. Sinza eyed the small square with blinking lights on her leather breast strap, before angrily addressing the white-haired soldier.

  “What are these devices for?” she demanded.

  “For the Recall,” Hanzoh replied.

  “Recall?” Doro asked perplexed. “What’s a Recall?”

  “You’ll see momentarily,” Gavrael said. He grouped them all together, before touching the communicator at his throat.

  “Execute Recall,” he said softly.

  A static-filled reply of a male voice echoed through the air as he raised his hand to touch the earpiece. All at once the air around them smelled of ozone and burnt rubber. Black clouds appearing from nowhere quickly surrounded the group, spinning rapidly around them. In an instant, the dark vapor enveloped their bodies. Each of them felt the ground lurch, and they were suddenly overwhelmed with an oppressive sensation as if hundreds of bugs were crawling over them and burrowing into their skin. The prickling sensation continued to increase, and Laurina Hawks felt an overwhelming feeling of nausea hit her like a sledgehammer, causing her head to swirl.

  Mercifully, she blacked out.

  Chapter 12

  “Multiple signals coming through sir,” Specialist Nathan Hall announced as he monitored the portable Recall Generator he carried.

  “Already?” a surprised Captain Asamodai responded after checking his watch. “Gavrael and Hanzoh went down the shaft not ten minutes ago. Hard to believe they retrieved the woman that quickly.” The Commander of the Rescue and Recruitment Op thought a moment before making a decision.

  “Defensive positions, now!” he ordered.

  The rescue force had conveniently hidden themselves next to a foliage covered air shaft in a wooded section two hundred yards behind the Arena complex. Since the Revered Mother could only Insert them as far as the Onyx Spire 20 miles to the south, which bordered the edge of the Wasteland, the group had to make their way north into Draconian held territory on their own. It had been arduous traveling, to say the least, highlighted by a skirmish with a small group of Draconian Troopers. Fortunately, they made quick work of the opposing soldiers, dispatching them before an alarm could be raised. Three hours later, Captain Asamodai and the weary group arrived at their current location.

  The rising low pitched tone coming from the PRG caused the Aeternus soldiers who were lying in wait to tense. Each of them was fully aware that anything could go wrong at this point, although they fervently hoped that at least this part of the Op had been successful. With guns drawn, the men waited with grim determination as the warm sunlit air shimmered in front of them. Each man relaxed visibly, as two of their own began to slowly materialize. Seconds later, a woman appeared, and a smile of satisfaction formed on the face of Captain Asamodai. His smile faltered, however, as one by one, three other women began to shimmer into view. Stifling a curse, the Aeternus officer approached his second in command with a finger pointing toward the emerging figures.

  “What the hell is this, Lieutenant?” he demanded.

  Gavrael sighed, knowing full well that Asamodai would not be happy about his decision.

  “Change of plan sir,” he answered. “It was unavoidable.”

  The Captain was about to launch into a stern reply when he heard one of the women begin to cough. Remembering that the mission was not only one of rescue but of recruitment, he bit back his anger and regained his composure.

  “We’ll discuss this later Lieutenant. Which one is the Laurina woman?”

  When her vision returned, Laurina Hawks was greeted by the sight of a white-haired soldier looking down at her, but something was different. The man facing her looked like Gavrael, but he had a white star-shaped tattoo that covered his forehead. The Un-Gavrael smiled as he gallantly held out his hand to her

  “A pleasure to meet you,” he said formally.

  Laurina eyed him suspiciously for a moment when Gavrael himself appeared and stood next to him. Her eyes went wide as she marveled at their similarity. This man was the same height and weight as her rescuer and even had the same long white hair. They were so identical in fact that the two could pass for twins but for this man’s tattoo. And while she couldn’t put her finger on it, for some reason she found the placement of the mark to be quite disturbing.

  For his part, as the Aeternus Captain looked upon the face of the newcomer, a hint of recognition began to show in his own features; recognition and a worried concern.

  Seeing her discomfort at his scrutiny, the man cleared his throat and bowed.

  “Forgive me. My name is Captain Asamodai.”

  As the redhead expanded her vision, she saw that behind the two white-haired men stood a small battalion of armed soldiers, all clothed in the same form-fitting black uniform that he wore. Three of them, who stood slightly apart from the others, looked particularly imposing: a well-muscled brown skinned soldier, a tall thin one who wore glasses, and a large lump of a man with a furrowed brow.

  Lil’ Doro stood up slowly from the ground where she had materialized and shook her head in amazement.

  “Whoa!” she exclaim
ed as she whistled a low tone. “Aeternus Special Op soldiers? Looks like we’ve stepped in it for sure.”

  “You have no idea,” grumbled Sinza holding an unconscious Galicia in her arms. She was clearly unhappy at being surrounded by the very soldiers that had been pursuing them for weeks.

  Laurina, who was still sitting on the ground, tried her best to make sense of her new surroundings, and with this new group of people. Turning to the white-haired man without the tattoo, she spoke with a bit of hesitation in her voice.

  "Where are we Gavrael? And who are all these soldiers?"

  With a sigh, Gavrael reached down and lifted the redhead to her feet. A thin smile from her liberator greeted her eyes.

  “Friends, we are safe,” he said solemnly. “For now.”

  Chapter 13

  Captain Asamodai was edgy and with good reason. Things had gone bad in a hurry after securing the four women. His original plan was to have Gavrael and Chun infiltrate Athena’s prison, grab the Carbon woman, and quietly whisk her away. Unfortunately, that course had been thwarted by the unexpected commotion at the Arena. Thousands of spectators were fleeing the complex, resulting in the unexpected mobilizing of a large number of Draconian Troopers who had stationed themselves around the location. Asamodai sent three scout teams on a reconnaissance mission in an effort to find their best route of escape. Unfortunately, they were discovered by soldiers who were patrolling the area from the south, and a large contingent who had stationed themselves near the Mainline. Tragically, two of the teams had been killed. After receiving that bit of news, Asamodai’s mood had soured. This development meant that in one fell swoop, both of their predetermined escape routes had effectively become lost to them. At this point, any attempt to travel through the outskirts of Babylon to the hidden Recall station on the southern edge of Draconian held territory, or to the Mainline's secondary tube system to the east would be suicide.

  It was regrettable that the Portable Recall Generator in their possession only had a range of two miles, or they could have triangulated their position and jumped to the hidden station, and again back to the Towers.

  Asamodai had questioned the wisdom of using such a large force to retrieve one woman. However, due to the dire nature of the situation they found themselves in, both Grandmaster Cheper and Exec Com Kuma agreed that in this case, numbers were more important than stealth, especially when going into Draconian territory. Sergeant Hanzoh Chun's Initiator skills proved crucial by his application of an Obscure on the group as they traveled through small wooded areas and the less populated streets. This mission was planned with zero tolerance for failure. By one way or another, someone had to make sure that the woman was brought safely to the Towers.

  Adding insult to injury, a search of the red-haired woman had proven fruitless. As she had told Gavrael earlier, the precious disk that the Brass was so concerned about was not on her person. He had no choice but to assume that it was in Draconian hands.

  There was a bit of good news, however. The two terrorists were now in his hands. The Aeternus Captain had also been fortunate enough to find a temporary safe haven where they could regroup and assess their options. Things could have certainly gone a lot worse. Fortunately, Brigg’s group was still left. Asamodai shook his head silently. Roberts, Santana, Newman, Palmer, Wills, McAdoo. Six men lost for no good reason. What a waste.

  “Sergeant Briggs, what is your location?" the captain spoke into his microphone.

  "West of the city proper, sir," came the reply.

  "Situation?"

  "Heavy concentration of Draconis soldiers in the city proper, especially in the south and east. We cannot withdraw in either direction without taking heavy fire. However, there is a minimal enemy presence to the north or west."

  A muffled curse tinged with static crackled through Sergeant Cyrus Briggs’ earpiece. Several seconds later came a more controlled response.

  “Affirmative Sergeant,” Captain Asamodai replied evenly. “Are the Dracs aware of your existence?”

  “No one that’s alive sir.”

  “Excellent! Rendezvous back at our position ASAP.”

  “Sir, we do have a situation. Specialist Hull suffered a stab wound in the back during a skirmish with the enemy.”

  “What’s his condition?”

  “He’s lost some blood, but he says he can travel. Alert Sergeant Chun that Hull will need immediate treatment once we get back.”

  “Affirmative. We’ve located a Recharge station and the Initiator is getting a power boost as we speak. C’mon home Sergeant.”

  “Roger that sir! Briggs out.”

  Nathaniel Hull winced as the Medipak was secured to his back.

  “Hey! Watch it Wall. You’re pressing the damn thing too hard!”

  His partner, Walter Boyd smiled as he attached the last of the bandages.

  “Aw quit being a baby Nate. Jeez, all this noise over an itty-bitty scratch...”

  “Scratch, my ass! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gotten cut in the first place.”

  While technically true, Hull’s statement was a bit of an exaggeration. Thirty minutes earlier, as the three men finished their reconnaissance and were making their way back to their temporary hideout in one of Babylon’s storm drain conduits, they were surprised by a group of six Draconian Troopers returning from a patrol. Sergeant Briggs took out two of them with strikes to their windpipes, while Boyd bull-rushed another three soldiers, knocking them to the ground. Two of them he quickly dispatched by several swift knife strokes. But the third, a small, twitchy type, seeing that he was outmatched, scuttled out of his reach and ran like a scalded dog in the direction of Specialist Hull.

  Nathan, meanwhile, had trouble with the man he faced. Both drew their knives at the same time and attacked, but the two men were so evenly matched that neither could find an opening to strike the other. Seconds later, they clashed weapons so hard that both blades went flying into the brush. Disarmed, each seized the other, and the two fell to the ground, grappling in the dirt. His formidable adversary managed to get Hull in a hammerlock, attempting to break his neck, but a sharp elbow to the ribs caused him to loosen his grip enough for the tall Aeternus soldier to slip out of the hold. Once free, he twisted his opponent’s arm behind his back, pushed him to the ground and struck him twice with hard fists to the temple, and the trooper was down for good.

  Breathing heavily from the battle, Hull didn’t hear the approach of the remaining Draconian Trooper. As he staggered to his feet, the craven soldier saw him as a threat. Pulling out his large gleaming blade, the Trooper made for the doubled over Hull and plunged the knife into the tall man’s lower back. Nathan howled in agony as the blade tore into his flesh just to the right of his spine. He fell to the ground with the knife still buried in him, clutching behind his back attempting to remove it. While he was able to touch the hilt, the awkward angle and the pain from the wound prevented him from making much headway.

  A deep growl pierced the air as Walter Boyd, who was in hot pursuit of the fleeing soldier, saw his comrade being stabbed. The big man launched himself forward, slammed into the Trooper like an angry linebacker, and tackled him hard to the ground.

  “You fucking bastard!” the large Aeternus soldier roared. “You are dead!”

  He was so irate at the man who had stabbed his friend, that he grabbed the enemy soldier by the throat and squeezed until the man’s neck snapped like a dry twig. Releasing his hold on the dying man, Boyd made his way over to Nathan, who was quickly being tended to by Sergeant Briggs.

  “Freakin’ coward backstabbed me, Sarge,” the wounded man gasped, as his commander removed a HypoDose cylinder from his Medikit. Rolling up the downed man’s sleeve, the Aeternus Sergeant administered a transdermal injection of NullPain into his arm. It was one of the revolutionary new class of drugs developed by Aeternus Medical that accomplished its purpose without dulling the faculties of the patient.

  “Don’t worry Nathan. Walter took him down for you.
”

  Seconds later, the drug took effect and Hull relaxed visibly.

  “That’s better,” Briggs soothed.

  As Boyd looked on, Cyrus grabbed the collar of the injured man’s incursion suit with both hands and pulled. The tough but extremely flexible garment stretched enough to allow the sergeant to slip the fabric over Hull’s wiry shoulders. Moving cautiously, he removed his arms from the sleeves, before working the material down far enough to slip it over the handle of the Draconian’s knife, stopping at the Specialist’s hips. After a quick assessment based on the location and depth of the blade, he applied a local anesthetic to the surrounding tissue and made a decision.

  “Brace yourself, Nathan. I’m going to pull it out,” he warned.

  Gritting his teeth, the tall soldier steeled himself.

  “Do it!”

  The Aeternus officer gripped the handle of the knife, and pulled firmly, trying to be as gentle as possible. Hull stifled a cry as the blade slid from his flesh. Relieved of some of the pain and pressure, he let out a long breath.

  “Thanks, Sarge,” Nathan moaned, breathing steadily.

  Walter Boyd released a gasp of his own, and he realized he had been holding his breath. He leaned over and placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder.

  “You alright Nate?” he asked.

  “I’ll live,” came the sarcastic reply. “It just won’t be fun for awhile.”

  Fortunately, it looked like the blade had cut through mostly muscle, and just nicked his spine. There was some bleeding, but since it was a clean cut, the folds of soft tissue had closed over the wound, stifling the flow. It could have been a lot worse. With practiced movements, he pushed the skin together as Boyd secured the Medipack to Nathan Hull’s injury. Satisfied that it would stay in place, Briggs guided the man’s arms back into the sleeves of his suit before pulling the rest over the shoulders. After a moment, the stretchy material settled into place around Hull’s neck, as if it had never been moved.