by T. C. Edge
“Why?”
She looked up suddenly. It was almost like she didn’t realise she’d spoken the words out loud.
“Why…what?”
“Why can’t he love you?” asked Tanner, quite serious. He stared at her a moment, as if expecting an answer. “He’s spent God knows how long trying to find you. His entire life these last months and years has been in tracking you down to help you. Chloe, you’re a beautiful girl. I don’t know how it started, if he wanted to help you from the start, or maybe that just grew on him, but it became a big deal later on. That much I do know. He’s thought about you every day for a long, long time. So yeah, when he finally meets you, and sees that you’re this sweet, good natured girl, despite all you’ve been through…then I can kinda see how something like love might just come about quickly.”
He stopped, then blinked, as if he was coming out of a dream.
“Whoa, I don’t know what happened to me there,” he said. “It was like I was possessed by someone with a good heart.” He grinned. “Please, never tell Nadia I said such soppy things. And don’t pass it onto Ragan either. He won’t want me stealing his thunder. He’s the king of the cheesy lines, right?”
“Right,” chuckled Chloe, mind swirling.
Love. No, she still didn’t believe it. Nice try, Tanner…but no.
It was far too soon to even consider such things, from a logical standpoint at least. Unfortunately, her stupid emotions had other ideas. Inside, she bloomed with a hope that Tanner’s instincts were right.
She smiled to herself, and looked down the passage. She could see Ragan through the gap in the chairs, head fallen to his shoulder, chin growing darker with stubble by the day. Can he really love me, she thought, after so short a time? Had he really begun to fall for me before we’d even met?
The thought made her swoon even more, and that in turn made her feel increasingly foolish. There was just something so incredibly…romantic about it. Something chivalrous and heroic. Chloe never, ever thought she needed saving. She never thought she wanted saving either. But that was all theory. Now that it had actually happened, she’d morphed into some besotted teenager, her mind fluttering along with thoughts of ‘does he, doesn’t he’, the sort of nonsense girls at school used to discuss when she was young.
Chloe had hardened her shell over the years, but somehow it had been cracked right open, releasing this ridiculous side of her. A side that needed to be ushered away again for now, like a drunken girl at a party. She’d only ruin things, mess things up, make her do or say something stupid. She zipped her lips, and stifled her thoughts. It was time to refocus on the mission.
Thankfully, Tanner seemed to be of the same mind.
“Anyway…” he breathed, finishing the last of his glass. “Guess we’d better get our work hats on.” He reached towards the controls, deactivating the auto-pilot. “We’ll be into MSA airspace in a few minutes. Unfortunately, it’s time to concentrate.”
Chloe took his meaning, and passed him her empty glass. She felt a twinge of inebriation, but only a little. Her nanites would quickly work to dispel it, so no harm done. Hopefully.
“Thanks for the drink, Cliff,” she said. “And…the chat. Nice to see you’re not such a cold-hearted bastard as you seem.”
His eyes lit up.
“Chloe Phantom! The mouth on you. I…I like it!”
“Well, my mouth is just for speaking when it comes to you,” she said.
“Don’t flatter yourself, gorgeous. Your words are all I want.” He glanced around, down the passage. “Plus, I’ll give this one to Hunt. He needs a win,” he grinned.
“Talk about flattering yourself,” said Chloe. “A word of advice, though, Cliff,” she added, leaning in. “Use some of that soppy stuff on Nadia. You might just win her round.”
Tanner stared at her a moment, as if trying to figure out a riposte. Then he just smiled softly, and turned back to the controls, as Chloe returned to her seat.
68
“Right then,” said Ragan, looking out through the windshield. “Let’s take it slow, nice and easy…”
He seemed to be talking to himself more than anything, a bid, perhaps, to keep himself calm. Tanner looked over from the controls, frowning.
“You sure you got enough sleep there, buddy?” he asked. “We’re safe. It’s cool. You hear that?”
“What?” asked Ragan sharply.
Tanner lifted his brows.
“Silence,” he whispered. “No detection alarm. No threats. No one knows we’re here, so chill out and let me do my job.”
Ragan nodded.
“Fair enough.”
The jet had ventured easily enough through MSA airspace so far, its advanced systems ever aware of any air-defence and detections stations littered across the Mid-States’ borders. High as they were, and with the falcon’s cloaking function, they’d have to get much closer to the ground than this to be spotted.
Still, Ragan had been on edge ever since he’d awoken. Tanner might well have been right in his assertion. He probably needed a few more hours to fully replenish his energy stores, and his lingering fatigue was likely making him more tense and paranoid than normal.
He drew a long breath, and looked out through the windshield. A long way below, and far towards the east, a condensed mass of silvery, yellow light indicated the city of Chicago. Capital of the MSA, it was nothing like the city they’d left several hours before. LA was a smog-ridden cesspool at its core, a slum of a city obscured by the towering skyscrapers and great wealth of its powerful leaders, and the mighty military that guarded it. It was like a postcard picture of a beautiful beach, seen from way off shore. From a distance, you’d only see the shimmering seas, the golden sands. Get closer, however, and you’d begin to realise that the beach was infested with trash, and the seas swimming with sharks.
Chicago was vastly different. It was positively tiny by comparison, having hardly grown in size over the years while LA expanded with such abandon. For a time, it suffered greatly in places, many suburbs all but destroyed, its beating heart growing strained by war. The Second Civil War wasn’t kind to the city, and the power-grab that followed many years later left it scrapping for crumbs from the table.
With the smallest population, weakest military, and most vulnerable economy, it could never compete for power, choosing instead to ally with the NDSA in order to ensure its protection. The alliance lasted a time, but soon it dissolved, leaving the MSA with little to do but abstain entirely, step back from the conflict and declare themselves neutral bystanders.
Of course, the threat of subjugation remained, with the WSA the primary concern. The MSA’s old alliance with the NDSA made them a less dangerous adversary, and they couldn’t fight on two fronts with the Western States so powerful. The Western States, on the other hand, remained the pre-eminent nation on the continent, and unlike their neighbours over in New York, an assault against Chicago remained an option; they had the military power and financial clout to war on two fronts if they wished.
So the Mid-States turned to diplomacy, bowing to the rest and paying taxes in exchange for their sovereignty. They began preaching peace, rebuilding as much as they could, even forging weapons and arms for the others to use in the fighting, forced to submit under the threat of invasion.
Chicago, once a great city, grew weaker still, falling into the shadow of its grander cousins. Ignored by the great powers to the east and west, they were forced down a new path, pressed into the dirt and mocked. But now, perhaps, they were fighting back.
Ragan mused on it all as the jet continued north, banking quickly and steadily approaching the northern suburbs of the city. His time with the CID had made it clear that no one cared for the MSA. No one feared a reprisal, or plans for revenge. It was to them akin to a toddler, kicked down by a burly adult, and then wishing to gain vengeance upon him. It just didn’t seem possible, or worthy of any considered debate. Their attention was elsewhere, and so was all their funding.
Of course, the occasional inspection did occur, just to make sure. Teams from both New York and LA, Ragan knew, would go there to ensure their defence systems were within the terms agreed upon, and that their military power didn’t exceed a certain level with regards to both armaments and soldiers, the Ravens - their nano-enhanced special forces - included. But over the years, these inspections grew more uncommon and less thorough. As far Ragan knew, New York hadn’t conducted one in some time.
And now a question was on his mind - had they managed to build a synthetics program behind the other nations’ backs? Had they secretly developed a new breed of super soldier, just waiting to be imbued with human consciousness to function?
It seemed unlikely, but perhaps that was merely Ragan’s ignorance speaking, ignorance that was well entrenched. Yet the evidence was starting to make him nervous, and the logic was making too much sense. Martha Mitchell and her family had been loyal citizens of the MSA since its inception, generation after generation firmly embedded within Chicago society, where they’d always played an influential role. If Martha now had the data, would she take it to her nation’s enemies in the west, or the east, or even towards the south? Would she sell it to LA or New York for profit, rich as she already was?
Or was she truly working for her own country, the lands she’d always loved? The country that had been mocked and ignored, dismissed and forgotten as the fight for power raged on and on?
Looking over at the city now, Ragan felt a terrible chill. He hadn’t seen it for a long time, but suddenly it seemed brighter than before, bigger. It looked like it was rebuilding, growing, expanding once more.
Preparing, he thought, with a jolt of trepidation, for something grand.
“OK, final descent, I’m taking her down.”
Tanner’s voice forced Ragan from his thoughts. He blinked and felt a slight change in motion, the jet slowing and falling gently. His heart was thudding wildly all of a sudden. He sucked in a long breath, grimacing.
“You OK?” asked Tanner, glancing over.
“Fine,” grunted Ragan. “Just…it’s nothing.”
He stood from the co-pilot’s chair, turning to the passage into the main jet, and walked right down it. The girls were already changed back into their combat gear, black and perfect for nighttime infiltrations. He smiled at Chloe as he passed. Damn she looks good in that, he thought. Hugs her in all the right places…
He continued on towards the rear, removing his own jeans, jacket, shirt, and quickly changing into his combat suit. He checked his weapons next, fixing his pistol to his belt, making sure his contact lens scanner was working.
Satisfied, he hurried back to the cockpit and sat down. The jet was now growing quickly close to the ground, landing off in an empty park near to Martha’s estate. It was the closest landing spot they could find without coming down in private gardens or on someone’s roof.
They were past the point of aerial detection now, however, and so Ragan breathed a little easier. As long as they could get in and out before first light, they wouldn’t have to worry about any early morning runners or dog-walkers bumping into the jet. With his usual precision, Tanner measured things out nice and gently and lowered the jet onto the ground, its legs extending and landing softly in the earth. The spot was covered by trees to one side, and with a little bit of extra manoeuvring, Tanner managed to slide the falcon a little tighter in, sneaking it under cover.
It would have to do.
The engines were shut off, though the falcon’s cloaking function remained active. It would be sufficient to shield it from any passing eyes, and drones if there happened to be any, particularly with night to help with the disguise. The group gathered in the belly of the jet, where Tanner quickly pulled on his combat gear, hoisted his rifle to his shoulder, and joined the others.
“Right,” said Ragan. “We’re a few minutes from the estate’s outer walls. We know the layout, so let’s get quickly into position. I have my scanner, and Chloe has Remus, but we all have our own eyes too. Use them. When we reach the recon point, Chloe will send Remus in for a recce. We act from there. Let’s go.”
He nodded, and the others did the same. They were quickly becoming a tight group, and Chloe was slotting in rather nicely. In fact, she’d began to serve some essential functions. Without Remus, any probe of the grounds and mansion would come with far greater risk. With him, they could stay safe beyond the outer wall, and only act if deemed appropriate based on his discoveries.
They moved towards the door, Nadia stepping towards the controls. It slid up, the ramp not extending this time as they jumped down onto the soft grass, one after the other. Ragan landed with a light thud as a cool sweep of air came flowing on the breeze, rustling through the leaves and flicking at Chloe’s hair. She absentmindedly gathered it into a ponytail and tucked it into her gear, as she was prone to do.
Without requiring an order, she then set about summoning Remus, who took off from her shoulder and adopted his drone form, moving off into the trees. Ragan tapped his scanning lens, and together the troop moved carefully forwards, their sleek black uniforms helping them blend seamlessly into the night.
It was silent here, almost eerily so. From their studies of the map and surrounding area, they’d discovered that most of the residences here were set within large grounds, creating a significant amount of open land for a relatively small number of local inhabitants. That made Ragan wonder what the point in this park was. With every mansion surrounded by dozens of acres of garden, it seemed redundant to have a public plot here too.
They moved on, passing the occasional path, rounding a little lake, and venturing towards their chosen spot. Set within a cluster of trees just beyond the walls of the estate, they could see the main gate into the grounds a hundred or so metres away to the right. It was large, wrought iron, and guarded by several armed men. Ragan’s experience told him that several armed guards at the gate usually meant that there would be many more inside, both on patrol around the perimeter and grounds, and perhaps even within the central residence itself.
The group stopped, joining into a crouched huddle.
“I count four at the gate,” said Nadia, eyes keen. “There’s gotta be a dozen or two inside then. That’s indicting.”
“Hmmm,” said Ragan, thinking on the same lines. That many people protecting a private residence? Clearly the owner was worried about something to have hired this much security. “It’s a good thing,” he went on. “If there was nothing to hide here, or nothing to protect, then security wouldn’t be nearly this heavy.” He felt a light thrill ripple through him. “We might get lucky. She might be here.”
Four sets of eyes lit with a renewed purpose. Their efforts over the course of the day and night had been somewhat deflating so far. But this…well, it gave them hope, and that was all they could ask for.
“OK, Chloe,” Ragan said. “Send him in. Let’s see what we can find.”
Chloe nodded stiffly, and Remus swept quickly forward, reaching the ten foot wall, topped with electric wire and razor sharp spikes, and flew over it without issue. He activated his cloaking function as he did, disappearing to all but Chloe’s sight.
“Godspeed, little man,” murmured Tanner, watching the drone depart.
Now all looked at Chloe, as she closed her eyes, taking in Remus’ perception. Ragan stared at her, still so taken by this unique relationship she had with her drone, this linking of their nanites that gave them such a wonderful set of powers, such a charming connection.
He turned his eyes towards the gate again; the soldiers seemed to be busying themselves with something. One moved towards a little intercom unit set within the pillar the gate was attached to. He listened for a moment, and then turned back to the other three guards, speaking a few hurried words.
“Something’s going on,” whispered Ragan, watching on. The others looked over, excluding Chloe, whose eyes remained closed. “Chloe, what do you see?”
Eyes shut tight, a frown was drawin
g in Chloe’s brow. A whisper drifted from her lips.
“Remus is approaching the front of the house,” she said. “It’s…massive. Stately. There are gardens everywhere. Wait…” The others waited for her to continue. “…It looks like there are people coming out of the main house. Staff members, I think.”
“Guards?” whispered Ragan.
“I see…four,” she said, nodding slightly. “No, more than that. Remus is picking up others with his sensors. Seven guards in the immediate vicinity; four outside the main house, three others on patrol. All heavily armed.”
The others grimaced collectively. Ragan glanced back over towards the gate, which was beginning to open up. Further down the track away from the estate, the light groans of an engine sounded, joined by the gentle crunch of tyres on dirt.
“Someone’s coming,” said Nadia. She had the sharpest sight of them all. Staying in a crouch, she changed her position, looking through the trees. “It…it looks like a medical transport, in its terrestrial configuration.”
Ragan frowned, and looked again to Chloe.
“What’s happening now?” he whispered.
“There are others coming out of the house,” she said. She scrunched her eyes up tighter. “Nurses, I think. And…there’s a stretcher, a medical bed. It’s being wheeled out towards the courtyard.”
“Who’s on it?” asked Ragan sharply.
“I don’t know,” said Chloe. “Looks like a child, young. A girl, blonde hair. She’s pale…sick.”
The others looked at each other, confused.
From down the track, the medical transport now came into view, sleek and white and currently configured to drive and not fly. It had the capability of transforming into an airborne transport, of course, though it wasn’t always used, depending on the situation. Unless an emergency, they’d commonly drive to save power.
It reached the gate, the guards stepping aside to let it pass through. Then they quickly gathered again, the gate grinding shut. All eyes went to Chloe once more.