“We must act quickly,” Broadhurst immediately advised. “I’ll send battalions of conventional marines to seize the Zhanghai rail depot. It’s only a few miles south of here. Letting the Army or State Police take control of it would allow them to point a dagger directly at our hearts. Another battalion will be sent to seize the Zhanghai port at Fore River. I’ll dispatch a destroyer squadron to bottle up the Zhanghai freighters there. With any luck, we’ll capture them and expand our merchant marine force considerably.”
“And what?” Firmino growled. “Start a war right in this city?”
Tank fire erupted beyond the base’s walls. Broadhurst gave him a determined look. “The war’s already started.”
Stockham no longer smoked a cigar. His fist clenched while resting on the table. “The Admiral’s right. I’ll dispatch Cadet Squadrons 23 and 28 for the seizure of the railyard. Platoon 18 will assist with the port in Fore River-”
Osip suddenly stood up. He pointed at the pile of boxes in the corner of the room. “Who brought those here?!”
The boxes seemed like such a minor detail to suddenly be concerned about. Firmino reacted as such and gave him a confused look. “Some of my officers brought them before we met. They have Zhanghai infrastructure details inside-”
That’s when Isaac realized. The brass couldn’t have - they weren’t cultivators, after all. But, deep in his soul, he felt the hidden timer click down to zero.
Osip had already realized. Without any hesitation, he grabbed the bottom box and tossed it straight through the window right as it exploded. Isaac grimaced from receiving yet another concussive force to the face again on a single day. Stockham, closest to the explosion, was knocked back by the shockwave; Broadhurst immediately shielded him with his body. Firmino fell to the floor, as did Isaac.
Through the windows, the thousands of papers and files hiding the bomb planted inside floated and burned away in the wind. While his ears rang and head swam, Firmino helped Isaac to his feet, but then a firm boot kicked down the door to the conference room. Through the doorway, the guards lay in pools of their own blood.
“By her sword!” Henry Spinelli screamed as he charged inside, followed by a platoon of Naval Police officers. His Rddhi activation blew out the remaining windows in the room, but so did Osip’s. Right as Henry’s Ka-Bar elongated, heading straight toward the bodies of Broadhust and Stockham on the ground, Osip raised a shield of metal from the floor and caught it. Bullets from Spinelli’s followers ripped through the room. Firmino pushed Isaac behind the shield as a spray of bullets tore through him.
Stockham grabbed an emergency shotgun hidden beneath the table and rolled to the edge of the metal wall. He let out two blasts; multiple Naval officers cried out as blood sprayed the ground. Osip punched the wall, sending it forward; the Ka-Bar screeched as the wall forced it away. An officer tried to get around the wall, but Isaac blasted him through a broken window with an electric charge. All the fighting created a wave of smoke, nearly disguising another officer trying to get around the wall, but Isaac blasted him away too. The electric charge sent him into the ceiling, and that’s when his suicide vest off.
When the smoke cleared, Isaac felt the shellshock once again. He went to speak, but his mouth was dry and no words came out. The explosion dented the metal wall and charred it black, but it did its job to the end. Corpses of young naval officers littered the room; a pyramid of metal pinned Henry Spinelli to the ground, his Ka-Bar knocked away. When he tried to change the dimensions of the pyramid, Osip snarled at him and pushed them tighter. Bones snapped, and Henry’s Rddhi went limp.
Isaac and the brass caught their breath. The shellshock died down and Isaac could only wipe his face. Osip approached the trapped Henry with narrowed eyes, but before he could finish the traitor off, more footsteps entered the room.
A band of Naval Police officers flooded into the room, all of their guns raised. No bullets erupted, however, and soon their leader joined them. Vice Commandant Spinelli entered the room, huffing and puffing, his face red with exertion.
“Lower your weapons!” he barked out. His men immediately did as instructed. The Vice Commandant eyed Henry, who gave him a cocksure grin. “My stupid son. My stupid, stupid son.”
“Your son’s a traitor,” Osip said with gritted teeth. “I should have his head.”
“He has done wrong,” Spinelli admitted. “But I will not allow justice outside the law. The courts will decide his fate.”
Osip immediately frowned at that, but soon everybody directed their attention to the corpses on the ground. One body stood out in particular - the bloodsoaked Commandant Firmino, who had already taken his last breath.
“Only one,” Henry said in amusement. “I could’ve done better. Who do we have leading the Arcadian Navy? A senile man at the top, a bureaucrat with no knowledge of cultivation, a former smuggler, and idiot now dead on the ground. All of you! You’re holding this nation back. You allowed the Restorationists to attack the base! The time had come for a change, so I delivered.”
Babs met Henry at an underground ultranationalist meeting.
Henry glanced up at his father. “Guess who’s now in charge of the Naval Police?”
With Firmino dead, command naturally fell to the Vice Commandant. From the look on his face, Spinelli hadn’t planned this and was just as shocked as the other members of the brass.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
The acting Commandant just took a deep breath. “My stupid son,” he repeated. “Take him away.”
All eyes turned to Osip. With great reluctance, he used his powers to expand the pyramid, allowing Henry to stand up while still being stuck inside of it. But then, Osip tightened the metal, wrapping it around Henry so he fell back down to the ground like a log. While he grinned in triumph, his father’s men picked him up and carried him outside to wherever justice awaited him.
While his officers collected Firmino’s corpse, Spinelli looked down at Isaac. “But there’s a kernel of truth in my son’s words. I’m in charge of the Naval Police until my successor can be chosen. For now, Cadet Spallacio and Cadet Reed, for their association with the traitor Morang, will be placed under house arrest.”
From the tone of his words, he clearly wanted them thrown in the brig, but that was out of the question after his son’s actions. Officers went to escort Isaac, but Osip stepped in front of them. “I will not allow that-”
“It’s okay,” Stockham said in a neutral voice. Isaac briefly felt a hint of confusion, but the General nonchalantly relit his cigar. Isaac instinctively knew Stockham had a plan. “The two cadets need time to recover from their wounds, anyway. But they will be placed under guard by the Combined Fleet. They will maintain neutrality in all of this.”
Broadhurst nodded in agreement. With a dour look, Spinelli thought it over, then his face changed to acceptance.
“I will escort Spallacio to the Combined Fleet building,” Osip declared. His voice indicated he would be getting his way on this one, so they all allowed it. With thunderous footsteps, Osip brought Isaac out of the destroyed room. Clerks and marines scurried through the keep; between the giant’s attack, the nationalization, and now the assassination attempt, they had a lot to worry about.
Isaac rubbed his temples. In a single day, I had a full-on battle at the train, got betrayed by one of my best friends, fought on a giant’s shoulder, lived through Babs’ memories, met the Mind, and survived an assassination attempt.
This does not feel like a Wednesday.
----------------------------------------
The local offices for the Combined Fleet - an otherwise unassuming building tucked away in the corner of the base - housed Isaac in a spare barracks room. As Osip dropped him off, he spoke quietly.
“Watch what you say and do. Sit tight and recover your strength for now. The General has a plan. And I will always have your back.”
Before today, Isaac just knew the big man as a training instructor, nothing more. “Why?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“Why?” Osip brought his palm across his heart in firm salute. “Because, cadet or otherwise, you’re a Cultivator fucking Marine.”
He departed after that. Two Combined Fleet marines, pistols on their sides, gave Isaac one last look before shutting the door to the room. With nothing else to do, Isaac limped toward a bed and rolled onto it.
I am so tired.
When was the last time he had a spare moment? Conspiracies, murders, and missions had been his entire life for the past several weeks now. For the first time, he finally had a moment to just sit and let it all wash away-
“Isaac, how dare you take a nap at a time like this?” Reed barked at him. Behind her, the Combined Fleet guards shut the door once again, leaving the two alone.
Before Isaac could speak, he realized a change in her demeanor and appearance. For starters, she still had the big bandage covering half of her face, including a damaged eye, and her greatcoat was still stained with today’s blood. But her brunette hair had shrunk in size; formerly unkempt, it was now done up in a crisp bun. She had tied a red headband around her forehead, covering part of the bandages; the word VICTORY had been etched in her familiar scrawl across the front of it. She stood a bit taller now, or maybe, during these past few months, she had grown up.
In contrast, Isaac felt smaller. “I’m just tired.”
Reed’s face softened. “Yeah, me too.” She took a seat on the bed across from him. “But there’s work to be done. I’ve been letting my face heal normally because I’m directing my cultivation towards something else.” She withdrew her sword and let a spark of Rdddhi run through it; a squeal erupted from the tip and slammed into a wall, sending bits of plaster to the floor. The guards outside banged on the door to quiet them.
“Circuit 2,” Isaac realized. He was now the only member of Squad 3 still stuck at Circuit 1.
“We’ve been given a blessing in disguise,” Reed said, a rare fire in her voice. “We’ve been left alone. We need to train and train hard so we can go out there and kick Babs’ ass.”
Isaac didn’t share her enthusiasm. He stared at the wooden board of the bunk above him. “Just leave me alone for a minute, alright? I’m just tired. There’s so much going on. I just wanted to avenge my brother and find the truth.”
Memories washed through him. “My brother died. Fat Lou died. So did his two followers. Kassandra got captured. All those marines on the Melusine died. Kieran died. Connor died. His daughter, too. All the marines today, both at the train and at the base. Babs betrayed me. We’re facing multiple conspiracies, supernatural beings, and threats from long ago. I thought things would be so simple. Just what the hell did I walk in on?”
He let out a long sigh. “I just want to go back to Patuxet. I had it good, spending all those days down in the darkness of the mines. If feeling the sun on your skin costs so much, then what’s the point of it all?”
Reed mulled it over. Then she leaned her sword against the bed and stepped towards Isaac. When she leaned over him, she blocked out his view of the wooden board above, replacing it with her gray eyes and smiling face.
“You know Isaac, you’ve helped me a lot these past few months. You helped me realize and understand the sadness I’ve been carrying with me all my life, and you helped me move beyond it. All along, I’ve wanted to understand who I really am. I’m not a symbol like my family wants me to be. And I’m not some movie star, either. You were right all this time.”
She jabbed a finger at herself. “I’m just me. Hibiscus Reed. That’s all I’ve ever been, and that’s all I’ll ever be. And you know what? I wouldn’t want it any other way. Thank you for that, Isaac.”
Now she jabbed the finger at him. “And you’re you, too. You’ve always been you. You’re the guy who’s been searching for the truth and making it past every obstacle that gets thrown his way. You chose this road long ago because you wanted to follow it to the end. And you’re not the type of guy who’s going to turn back now, not when we still have such a long way to go. Think of all the friends who didn’t betray you. The people who didn’t die. And the people you’ll continue to save. We can’t just quit now.”
Isaac thought of his last night with Greg and Kassandra in Patuxet. He thought of Reed with her cigarettes, he thought of going to movies and bars with his comrades, and he thought of a future world where one day, they wouldn’t have to risk their lives. And now, in the present, he saw her headband proclaiming VICTORY.
He sat up in bed and punched a fist into his open palm. “Let’s get to work.”