With a few rubs of his throbbing arm, Armone swung himself down the ladder to rejoin his squad, biting through the descend from his injury. Upon his landing, he found Jackson crouching behind a stand of crates, the face behind his visor covered in sweat.
“How’s the situation down here?” Armone asked, offering his good hand to the boy, who gladly took it to stand back up.
“Paul took down three, not counting the pair from the entrance” Jackson explained “Yillid three, Garret one, I none yet…”
Armone counted the number from the top of his head “That left one.”
Jackson nodded, and shifted his gaze toward the stand on the other side, where Armone could saw a foot peeping out from the corner “The last guy has a gun; he and I are fighting for a solid minute now.”
“I see…” Armone said, “You go around the back and attack from behind; I will go in the front and distract him.”
“Are you sure, sergeant?” Jackson asked, “Surely I will make a better…”
Armone looked at his wounded arm, he would not be able to make any decent shot without both his hands “There’s no time to waste, go.”
The boy nodded and silently took off.
‘I haven’t played the bait since…forever.’ Armone thought, he was taught the specific tactic through training, but as a watchman, he rarely battled people who could fight back. He pulled his solar gun into his hand cocked it, purposefully letting his opponent knew his whereabouts from the sound.
In the midst of silence, He could hear the rebel shifting his stance and walked toward his direction. Armone took a deep breath and ran out of his cover, firing an unaimed blast at the thief, which naturally hit the floor, in due time he went to hide behind the next stand. Luckily, the rebel reaction fire came too late, for a moment later a blast hit the floor behind him.
“Hey!” Armone could hear Jackson called from the other side of the warehouse. Perhaps the boy did it on a whim, or perhaps he was trying to help Armone by pulling the attention of the rebel to him before he made his next shot. But regardless, the call gave the thief an extra second to react before Jackson’s blast could hit him, allowing the rebel dodged the fire then let it passed by the side of his head rather than hitting right in the skull. The blast continued onward and pieced through a container box, tumbling it down with rainfall and cracking echo of bottled pill in front of Armone.
As Jackson went into cover to dodge a retaliation shot from the rebel, Armone decided that he had to take the situation into his own hand. He kicked away the medicine bottle in front of him and kneeled down on the ground, putting his gun over the fallen box and used it for aiming as a replacement to his other hand. With a steady breath, he fired.
Fortunately, the rebel was so distracted by Jackson that he did not notice Armone’s gunfire before it was too late. The blast pierced through the center of his chest and blood poured out, sending the thief collapsing to the ground, the life fading from his body.
Afterward, Jackson came to meet Armone, his eyes gazed upon the collapsed box lying on the floor with a worrying look “I’m very sorry, sergeant. I sabotage the mission.”
Armone sighed; he kneeled down to pick up a bottle of medicine. “As your leader, I will take the blame for it this time. But be sure to not make the same mistake again.”
Jackson gave a salute “Thank you, sir.”
Armone threw the bottle back into the crate ‘The distributioners can deal with this later.’ Luckily, most if not all of the bottles were still intact, so the toll on the mission would not be much “Let’s go meet up with the other.”
They found the rest of the squad gathered in the other end of the storehouse, speaking of their successful first mission. None of them seemed injured, and any blood that stained their armor seemed to be all from their eliminated enemy.
Paul turned to see Armone and Jackson as they approached “What took you so long?”
Armone decided to ignore his second-in-command “Did you all suffer from any mishaps?”
Paul shook his head “Fortunately none, only two of the seven we fought had a solar gun. So it was pretty easy, really.”
Armone rubbed his wounded arm “I see…”
Garret and Yillid were sharing the moment together, as they often do. But when Jackson approached near the two, Yillid turned to address him, near half-mockingly “How many did you take down?”
Upon hearing that, Jackson started to nervously shift his weight between his legs, which was all the answer the girl seemed to need.
Armone shook his head, from his two-decade worth of work, freshly trained guards would often try to turn their work into some sort of game or competition, as a way to not face the morality of their actions. Most of his colleagues had done it; Paul was still doing it until his incident outside the city, and admittedly Armone had done it for a few years as well. He glanced at the three; eventually, they would have to come to terms with their duty. But for now, he should be allowed it, since it could be a part of their growth.
But then, Armone noticed something, a small movement in the corner of his eyes coming from somewhere above. At first, he thought it was nothing, but then he could saw it again, closer this time. Out of instinct, Armone ran to the closest railing and pulled himself up with his still good hand, groaning at the weight he put on it.
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Garret, noticing Armone’s odd behavior, turned to see him “Sergeant, what are you doing?”
From up here he saw it clearly, a young girl lying over the crates of medicine, a sharp knife in hand, and was crawling closer and closer to his squad that she was near above them now. A dangerous intent on her face.
Armone bit his lips ‘I am sure we took down all thirteen of them. So the footage Quinn got must not be able to see every nook and corners of this warehouse…’
“Everyone! Watch out!” Armone shouted, but that proved to be a mistake. For it left the rebel no choice but to make her move. The girl immediately swung herself off the shelf and descended down on his squad.
“This is for my friends!” The girl was shouting, her knife aimed at Yillid, and even though she was wearing armor, the weapon could still deal critical injury.
Armone cursed, Yillid wouldn’t be able to react in time, nor could Armone fired his gun from this posture. It was his fault for not searching thoroughly, and now on their very first mission, one of his subordinates was about to be injured…
Then suddenly, the sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse, followed by a sudden scream, and the corpse of the rebel fell upon Yillid, a hole through the girl’s chest. Jackson then cocked his gun, reloading his fire, his face strangely calm and collected.
“Oh, thank god,” Armone muttered out loud, his fear had not come true. At the most vital moment, Jackson managed to remain collected and quickly took down their enemy.
Yillid was shuffling out from the bloodied body when Armone returned to them and was wiping the blood off her armor, to little effect. She then turned to Jackson “You almost hit me.”
The teen in question lowered his gun “Excuse me?”
“The angle you shoot your gun is dangerously close to my head.” She said, running her hand over her helmet, which there was a thin line of burnt surface running across it “If you had lowered your gun just a tiny bit, the shot would have broken through my helmet and splatter my brain.”
Jackson swung his gun over his back in mild frustration “But I didn’t, did I? And I manage to save your life, so you’re welcome.”
Yillid rolled her eyes and gave a light kick at the dead thief “Please, do you think I can’t take her on my own? Yes, I am a little bit grateful for what you did for me, but that does not change the fact that you might have killed me back there.”
Jackson shook his head “And no matter how much you complain, it does not change the fact that you are speaking of possibility, not reality.”
Yillid groaned, and then turned to Garret “We need third party opinion on this. Gar, who is in the wrong here?”
“Jackson might have been acting too rash as you say.” Garret spoke in a mild tone “But if I was in his situation, I would have done the same.”
Yillid sighed “Whose side are you on again?”
Paul seemed to think this was the best time to speak up “Well technically you are in his situation, Garret. We all are literally standing next to each other.”
A look of shame appeared on the third-in-command “I…was distracted on watching the sergeant.”
Jackson gave a glare at Yillid, with a terrible look on his face, the worse Armone seen so far “So that’s it? You would rather have your strong and handsome Garret saved you instead of me. Isn’t that right?”
Garret pressed his hand on the other boy’s shoulder “Jackson…”
Yillid puffed up “I would rather save myself; I don’t want to rely on anyone.”
A gleam of anger was in Jackson’s eyes “But you still do. That is why you are mad and lashing out at me. You hate it that you need help, but since you are too egotistic to hate yourself, you use me like your fucking scapegoat!”
Her face turned bright red “I wasn’t mad at you because I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at you because I’m mad at you!”
“STOP!” Armone gave a stern command, and immediately the two cease their argument, even Paul was startled; for the man had rarely seen Armone raised his voice so loud.
“As your sergeant, I will not allow any of this pointless bickering to tear our team apart.” Armone continued, turning to his lone female subordinate “Yillid, no matter how you look at it, Jackson saved you from potential danger. So swallow your pride and thank him.”
Yillid made a soft groan, and for a moment Armone thought she would refused to follow his command. But then she gave a small nod to Jackson, though half-heartedly “Thank you, for saving me.”
“And Jackson” Armone went on “I understand that you are feeling unappreciated, but it is not a reason to lash out on your teammate. Apologize to them at once.”
The boy nodded and gave an apologetic gesture to the other two squad members “Garret, Yillid, I’m sorry.”
Yillid turned away in dissatisfaction, but Garret received the gesture “As long as you apologize, that's fine.”
Armone gave out a long sigh ‘I’m suppose that’s a start.’
“Then if everyone is in agreement…” Armone told them; gazing to the ladder that led to the railing “We have one more unfinished business.”
But as Armone was leading them up the ladder, he pulled the girl aside.
“Yillid” He started to say “I understand that you have a complex on being able to rely on yourself…”
She shrugged “I don’t really think at it that way, but please go on.”
Armone nodded “The fact of the matter is, we are a team, and it is impossible to not rely on each other. We are in this together for a long while, so you must open up to everyone, let’s other help you sometime. Even Jackson, I know you dislike him, but we are a family now, try to give him a chance.”
“I…” Yillid started to say, her feet started shuffling on their own “…will take what you say into consideration.”
Armone sighed ‘At least she is being honest.’
After that was done, his squad returned to the boy whom Armone left over the railing, who seemed to be even worse for wear. Without the heat of battle to distract him, Armone managed to have a good look at the boy. The rebel was barely fifteen, with light features often found in the lower common. His clothes, though properly wash, seemed to be repeatedly worn for many days. The boy’s face was as pale as milk from the blood loss, which had slowed down at that point. He had fresh bruises on his wrist from his attempt to free himself from the handcuff. Though curiously, there were already several bruises over other parts of his body as well.
“We are taking you back to the great barrack.” Armone told him with a commanding voice “You shall be extracted of all information you have with any method necessary. So perhaps you wish to confess the location of your unlawful resistance now to be done with it.”
The boy raised his head to meet Armone’s eyes, and without a word or hesitation, he bit his tongue out.
Garret was the first to react, his armored fist launched into the boy's face to stop him from what he’s doing. But alas, it was too late, for when the boy turned his head back, with bloodied face and broken nose, he spit his severed tongue out from his mouth, landing bloody on the metal floor.
Armone gave out a disappointing sigh and stared at the defiance-filled boy “Kill him.”
Garret raised his head “Are you sure, sergeant?”
“He is no use to us now.” Armone replied “And if he wish to die alongside his comrades, then let him have it.”
As Armone turned back to exit this cursed place, a loud gunshot sound boomed through the warehouse once more, followed by a soft thud of a lifeless body hitting the floor.
Armome shook his head ‘It was a stupid idea anyway.’