Isaac felt a sense of deja vu as he entered a familiar room - the room where Dan and Reed first showed him the short film that served as an introduction to cultivating. Similar to that first day, the blinds were closed and a projector aimed at the front of the room. This time, however, the room was much more packed - all nine cultivators of Squads 1, 2, and 3 were in attendance, while a marine operated the projector and Stockham stood at the front of the room. He looked eager to teach.
A gum bubble popped in surprise as Isaac entered. Babs sighed in relief upon seeing he appeared well. “I was really worried, too. Maybe not sleeping bag next to your bed level worried, but I’m also not squad leader.”
“I’ll remember that,” Isaac teased, then sat next to her. Though his body still ached and his fingers weren’t entirely back to normal, he did feel alright overall, all things considered. Well enough to go out and take Sam down and finish this business with the smugglers. Next to him, Reed and Kieran took their seats in the small crowd, steam rising from his arm and smoke drifting from the cigarette in her mouth.
The projection started up, revealing a grainy photo of a straw hat-wearing man in a hakama skirt. “Eight-Steps Killer Sam,” Stockham began, enjoying the theatrics. “A renowned mercenary who once served as a, shall we say, problem solver for the Arcadian government until striking up on his own. He served in this same capacity for Zhanghai Industrial Corp for a while, but then went underground. That’s not to say he’s completely disappeared, however.”
The slide then changed to show an unassuming building surrounded by brick tenement halls, warehouses, and rundown offices. Seagulls flew overhead, suggesting a location by the sea. “This is the headquarters for Machigonne Import-Export Industries,” Stockham continued. “A decade ago, they went by a different name. We investigated them for smuggling goods from Sigismund to avoid Arcadian tariffs. And, during that lengthy investigation, our agents skirmished with Sam several times. He was under their payroll. Nevertheless, we completed a successful investigation, arrested and imprisoned the company’s board, and shut the whole thing down. Unfortunately, it looks like the middle-rank managers who escaped have resurfaced as Machigonne, and utilized their old connections to get back into the smuggling business.”
The next slide depicted a docked Melusine. Stockham used a pointer to tap on the photo of the ship. “The information collected from our raid on the Melusine indicated that Panama and Jackson conducted numerous shipping and smuggling jobs for Machigonne in the past few years. This shipment in particular was for a shell company that eventually leads back to Machigonne as well. Furthermore, Squad 1’s raid on the Shahmaran also collected information that led back to Machigonne. Between the connections provided by the two ships, as well as Sam’s previous employment, I suspect that the Machigonne offices hold the information we need to get us one step closer to bring down this smuggling ring.”
Isaac raised a hand. “Did they find more drugs on the Shahmaran?”
The projector’s light briefly illuminated a grim look on Stockham’s face. “Squad 1 found the deceased bodies of thirty-two Atalantan refugees inside. The cargo container they were sealed away in wasn’t properly ventilated, leading to their eventual suffocation while at sea.”
The room went quiet. “Why would Machigonne want to smuggle in refugees?” Isaac found himself asking.
“A question that the Machigonne offices will hopefully answer,” Stockham replied. “Indeed, it makes little sense. If the purpose of their import was for menial labor or the like, there are plenty of rural migrants to pick from. If they are importing additional bodies when Arcadia is full of them already, that must mean the rural migrants aren’t enough for their endgame. I suspect it’s related to the smuggled imports of atomic material.”
Another hand raise. “What’s their endgame?” Mackenzie asked, looking like she was ready to run through a wall if that's what victory required.
“Based on everything so far, Machigonne is linked to the Restorationists.” Stockham tapped on the image again. “If the Restorationists are true to their ideals, then the imports must be related to establishing their utopia on earth.”
Isaac recalled Sam's words. Kallipolis. He had no idea of it's meaning, but perhaps it meant utopia.
…he had no idea what that meant, either.
"Utopia means paradise, a perfect world," Babs whispered to him, evidently picking up on his struggles.
The slide changed back to the image of Machigonne Import-Export headquarters. “I understand some of you are in relatively rough shape, but we will raid the headquarters in approximately one hour.” Stockham saw the look on some of their faces. “I understand your concern. Only an hour to prepare for a raid? But I assure you, secrecy is of the utmost value here. All businesses in Arcadia are connected in some way or another. If this raid were to occur tomorrow, Machigonne would surely know by then. I even suspect they are already burning their files as we speak.”
The general gritted his teeth, probably from Cartwright's earlier pressure, as he spoke this next part. “Squads 2 and 3 will conduct the raid, with Squad 1 remaining outside in reserve. Once the three squads have arrived at the building, Cadet Nazarov will gather intelligence on enemy strength."
Oksana's eyes flickered in acknowledgement, before returning to their usual half-slits of vacancy.
"I will leave it up to Chief Midshipman Mackenzie to decide on whether additional strength is needed to storm the offices." Stockham gave the projected image one final tap. “If Sam is there, try to take him or whoever you can alive. But should that prove impossible…use of deadly force is authorized.”
With that, the meeting was adjourned. With the marine projectionist also serving as the man driving their truck to the Machigonne building, everybody involved in the raid was already assembled. The marine led them down the hallways towards the parking lot; while they walked, a few clerks and marines passed by. Up ahead, one man turned the corner into their hallway, his red beard giving his identity away.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Since Officer Connor had inspected and failed all their rooms, Squad 3 had a slight bone to pick with him. Reed gave him an upset stare, Babs gave him a hard stare, and Isaac gave him a slightly sympathetic stare with a shake of his head. Connor just turned his own head away and walked on.
Before he brushed the brief incident off and forgot about it, Isaac realized something. “Squad 1, you conducted a raid around the same time we did, right?” he asked. “Did Connor or an officer come by and give you a random inspection right after?”
Dan, Demetrius, and Oksana all shook their heads. “Hmm,” Isaac mumbled, ending that conversation. He earlier thought Connor inspected his room right after the raid on the Melusine in case they brought back contraband with them, but Squad 1 didn’t get inspected after their own similar raid.
Is there something about Squad 3 that made them deserving of an inspection? It was our first mission together, I guess. And, looking at us individually, they probably don’t trust Reed because she’s a Reed, so it makes sense to give her an extra inspection…I don’t know what they would be investigating Babs for…and as for me-
Did Connor use the guise of inspecting us after the raid on the Melusine to search my room for Greg's journal page? And could he have inspected all three squad members to further the guise, as well as to avoid raising my suspicion by investigating me alone?
The theory made sense, but it also didn’t. Connor served the Arcadian military, an institution notorious for opposing revolutions, both real and in thought. And Squad 1 didn't come across any contraband in their raid, just corpses. And yet, Isaac couldn’t just shake the theory away.
But he had bigger fish to fry right now. The groups arrived in the parking lot, a running truck awaiting them.
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Both Isaac and Kieran cultivated during the whole ride to the southern part of Narragansett. Sitting on benches with the rest of the squad members in the open bed of the truck, the mid-autumn breeze whipped at their faces. The rain had let up, but the dark clouds remaining overhead threatened to release another downpour at any moment. Oncoming rain produces a primal feeling in people - the desire to seek shelter. From fast-walking pedestrians to honking cars and trucks, the whole city seemed on edge.
By the time the truck closed in on Machigonne headquarters, Isaac realized his fingers had grown back to their normal length. He slowly slid the bandages off, revealing the healed index, middle, and ring fingers of his left hand. Just like Reed’s stomach, all of them had an off-kilter gray look to them, as if somebody had made fingers out of clay and grafted them onto Isaac’s hand. They looked, worked, and operated just as real fingers would, but they would take some getting used to. Isaac suspected it would be the same for the slash across his back. Though he would be fully operational for the upcoming raid, Isaac had to wonder if, just as Reed said, he lost a little bit of humanity with these new fingers. As for Kieran - steam billowed as his fingers finished regrowing. His entire arm looked a sickly gray as well, and his face looked flushed.
His thoughts drifted away as the truck came to a halt. Mackenzie spoke to the driver through an opening to the cabin, then looked back at the group. “We’re a block away from the headquarters. Let’s reform here. Oksana, do what you need to do.”
Oksana saluted, though her eyes were already on the powerlines stretching above the parked truck. The squad members slipped out of the bed, onto the paved ground. As Oksana went off by herself and started meditating, the remaining eight members took stock of the situation. They were in a rundown part of the city, that much was obvious. The truck parked in a vacant lot, the cracks in the concrete filled with overgrown weeds. Broken streets stretched in every direction, but the looming rundown brick buildings provided a suffocating feeling that made Isaac involuntarily tug on his collar. Somewhere, dogs barked; somewhere, children laughed.
With nothing else to do, the eight cultivators milled around Oksana as she worked. Isaac felt on-edge as she watched her - she sat on a broken curb with her eyelids closed, yet her eyes continually moved beneath them. Isaac looked up - she was sitting right underneath a telephone pole overgrown with wires.
“Eighteen people inside Machigonne,” she said in a trance. “Eight civilians, four gunmen, three sword-type cultivators as seen on the Melusine and Shahmaran, two Circuit 2As, one Circuit 2B. Eight-Steps Killer Sam is the 2B.”
Mackenzie punched a fist into an open palm. “Let’s do this.”
Dan raised a steadying hand. “Hold on. Only six of us going in versus ten enemies inside. I understand most of our opponents will be cannon fodder, but three Circuit 2s…Mackenzie, I understand you’re 2B as well, but Lynn is 1B while the other four are just 1C.”
A conveniently-timed breeze made Mackenzie’s greatcoat billow behind her. “Thinking like that is why nobody will remember you. I will take down Sam myself to avenge the insult to my family’s honor, while the five cultivators with me should be more than enough to take down anyone else. Stockham put Squad 2 here for a reason - this is where my glory starts. I’m already writing this scene in my head for my future memoirs.”
She peered over at Isaac. “I’m going to have to work on your dialogue, though.”
Isaac frowned. “Hey!”
Mackenzie just chuckled, but then everybody realized Oksana was still doing…whatever she did.
“Oksana,” Isaac asked. “How do you know for sure there are only ten people inside the headquarters?”
“Powerlines stretch across this entire city,” she explained in a daze. “Including the headquarters. They carry all the information you need.” She unconsciously licked her lips. “The powerlines speak to me. So I listen.”
The group looked up at the powerlines running overhead. All Isaac heard was a low droning sound. “How often do they speak to you?” he asked.
Oksana didn’t open her eyes. “They never stop.”
“...okay…”
Mackenzie rubbed her chin. “Think this conversation is worth keeping in the memoir? I guess I’ll have to decide later. I can at least skip the walk to the building. Walking is boring.”
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Mackenzie frowned. “Shoot. I think I skipped too much. I forgot to start up my mental monologue again when we got here.”
The six members of Squads 2 and 3 stood in the lobby of Machigonne Import-Export. The fallen bodies of the four gunmen and three sword-type cultivators stretched all around them. The windows to the front of the store had been shattered by bullets; one of the cultivator’s skulls was shattered by a |Twilight Beam|. Discarded shells and pools of blood arced around Isaac’s shoes as he calmed his breathing.
Blood covered Lynn’s face, and her teeth chattered in anxiety. “We just have the three left, right? We should just go get them so we can go home. I’d love to go home right now. We should all catch a movie after, too. One home and one movie, please.”
“Indeed,” Mackenzie surmised. She tossed away one of the gunmen’s arms and headed toward the stairs at the back of the lobby. However, right as the five started following her, the entire lobby plunged into darkness. And it wasn’t like somebody had turned the lights off; this was advanced darkness. It felt like they had left the lobby entirely. The six stood in a pitch-black void; Mackenzie lit a spark of Rddhi in her index finger to illuminate their faces.
“Let’s just search for an exit,” Mackenzie proposed. However, disembodied laughing answered her.
“Welcome, Naval cultivators,” the voice said. “To your doom.”