Chapter 65 The Red List

Rosie stepped out of the Vertibird in the middle of Excalibur Outpost, dressed in her blacks. This time as an invited guest.

Matt and Sara greeted them. “I want to see Paul.” She said to Matt, leaving John with Sara and a man she didn’t know.

Matt led her down a short hallway, through a set of double doors and onto a ward. She saw Janey, stood by a bed, Charlie sat next to her. “How is he?” She asked while going through his chart.

“No change.” Charlie looked exhausted.

“Paul’s bp and heart rate have remained within acceptable variances for the last twelve hours.” Janey added, trying to be helpful.

Rosie took Paul’s hand, careful not to dislodge the iv. “The food here is terrible, I need my sous chef.” She leant in and whispered, in childlike hope that he somehow would respond to the jab.

“Come on.” Charlie tore herself away, taking the others with her. They walked back out into the sun, Janey still drawing gawping stares, and into the Recon HQ.

Charlie stopped by the briefing boards, letting out an ear splitting whistle. “Recon, front and centre.” The black clad scouts, all with the same Mohawk haircut, assembled around the briefing boards.

“Scout Commander Callum Hargreaves has been relieved on a medical. I’m taking command, with Cyclone as my second.” Charlie let the muttering pass. “For the last few years, my team has been running an undercover op as a warlord. The Baron.” Charlie started taking down intel from the briefing boards.

“During that time, we made a Red list. Twenty names that have earned a visit in the night. Two names per team. I don’t care how you get it done, as long as they are off the board in the next forty eight hours.” She started pinning up the intel they’d been collecting.

“New meat.” Charlie put a hand on her shoulder. “The scary one is Scout Captain Rosie Blake. And the full metal bitch is Janey.”

One the scouts came forward, putting Rosie in his shadow. He made an over the top sniffing motion. “She don’t smell like Recon, Boss.” Rosie smiled, resisting the urge to throw an uppercut.

“Tornado.” Charlie used the name she’d earned. “Perhaps you’d like to enlighten Tick with a demonstration.” Charlie started walking towards the kill house.

“Show them what you can do, Rosie.” Charlie whispered before she headed up to the gantry. Rosie took her integrally suppressed carbine from her gear bag, and headed to the starting line.

“Shooter ready?” Charlie called out.

“Ready.” Rosie glanced at the chalkboard showing the top ten times through the kill house.

“Start the clock, Tick.” Charlie handed him a stopwatch, getting a smirk in return. “You heard me.” Charlie hit the old boxing bell, and Rosie kicked in the first door.

Rosie moved with honed precision. Sweeping rooms and corridors, putting two in the chest and one in the head of every target. Even getting the ones behind the doors.

“Clear.” Rosie yelled, finishing in the slowest time she could. Zero point one second faster than the tenth spot on the board. Laughter and smattering of applause sounded as she climbed back up the gantry. Tick had to wipe off his name and put hers in. Everyone seemed pleased, except Charlie.

“Show them.” Charlie all but snatched her carbine away, giving Rosie her knives.

“I don’t want them to see me as a freak.” Rosie whispered, so close to finally being one of the gang for the first time.

“This is Recon, Tornado.” Charlie answered loudly. “We’re all freaks here. Ain’t that right?” Sounds of agreement went through the group. Rosie took off her fatigues, pulled up the mask on her Shadow suit, and vanished.

“Shooter ready?” Charlie called out again.

“Ready.” Rosie spoke through Janey, watching the instant the bell rang. She saw the hammer strike the red metal and dove into the dreamlike state.

Rosie zipped through the kill house. Knives flew from her hands, striking targets and sticking in the wood. She put her fist through others like they were paper. She smashed through windows, broke through doors. Tearing through the kill house like her namesake.

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“Clear.” Rosie yelled. She walked back up to Charlie and the others slowly, muscles burning.

“Time?” Charlie asked.

“Old record is four minutes thirty eight. She beat it by four minutes.” Tick looked stunned, like the rest of them. Rosie felt the familiar sting of being on the outside again, until the talking started.

“I’ve got an opening on my team.” Someone said.

“Shit, I’ll make room on my team. Cutlass, you’re benched.” Another joked.

“Fuck you Dagger.” Came the reply.

“See Cyclone for your briefings. Any questions?” Charlie took control.

“Hurricane’s status Boss?” Someone asked after Paul.

“No change.” Charlie gave a nod of thanks.

“Anyone tried cooking him something?” Someone asked, getting a laugh that broke the tension.

“Alright, as you were.” Charlie dismissed them. “Nickel, Cobalt. A word.”

Rosie waited on the gantry, getting greeted by everyone as they passed.

“We know what this is about, Boss.” Nickel spoke for both of them. “We got our transfers ready, just need a signature.” They both looked wounded by the thought.

“You’re good scouts. We’re going to need you. As far as I’m concerned you followed orders. Stupid fucking orders, but orders all the same.” Charlie put their minds at ease. It didn’t last. “You should know that Jones recognised Brandon. He could know your faces too.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” They both looked unnerved.

“We’re going to wipe them out. Count on it.” Charlie showed strength, as a good commanding officer should. “Nickel, why don't you give Rosie a tour of the toy shop."

“Sure thing, Boss. Come on Red, you’re going to like this.” Nickel headed down and Rosie followed, getting a reassuring wink from Charlie.

Rosie followed Nickel through the hangar. Past the scale model map and briefing boards, through the bustling workbenches. “Pick your poison.”

Nickel slid open a mesh gate, Rosie stepped into the caged armoury.

Rosie grabbed a suppressed two two that looked new. Her eyes scanned over the shotguns and carbines, finding little that caught her eye. “Wait, is that…” Rosie pulled a sheet of a long gun after spotting the muzzle break. A pre-war fifty calibre sniper rifle. Semi automatic, six round box magazine and a high powered scope.

“Can we shoot a few rounds?” Rosie asked, knowing the value of fifty cal rounds.

“You can shoot as many rounds as you want, on any of these.” She smiled. “Told you you’d like it. The next part, not so much.” Nickel pointed up, to the walkway suspended from the ceiling.

Rosie strapped the heavy rifle pack tight to her back. Then she clipped onto the safety line and started climbing the ladder bolted to the wall. The curvature of the hangar roof made the climb punishing almost immediately. Before long she found herself completely upside down.

“That was fun.” Rosie panted as she dropped onto the walkway.

“You’re gonna fit right in.” Nickel shook her head while catching her breath. “Assuming you can shoot.”

Rosie set up the rifle, loaded the box mag, and snapped the bolt forward. “On target.” Rosie pressed her finger against the cold metal, then the trigger.

“Send it.” Nickel peered through the spotter’s scope. Rosie fired. The precision made rifle kicked, spitting out the spent casing and loading another round. The boom rolling down the inside of the roof. “Missed by a mile.” Nickel sounded amused.

“Check the far target.” Rosie smiled, pleased by the slack jawed expression.

“You and I are going to get along.” Nickel adjusted her spotter’s scope. “Let’s try two targets, quick as you can.”

Rosie fired off rounds till her shoulder ached.

Teams began to filter out as afternoon passed into the evening. Rosie made her way up to the glass walled commander’s office. She knocked on the door. “It opens.” Charlie barked without looking up.

“Hey.” Rosie stepped in, waiting to be offered a seat.

“Hey.” Charlie softened on seeing her. “Have a seat.” Rosie sat on the fake leather couch.

“Do you have names for me and Matthew?” Rosie wanted in on the action. “We can handle it.”

“I have a name, but it’s not for anyone outside this room.” Charlie signed the paperwork and pushed it aside.

“We have a leak. One of the scribes has been selling intel to feed his habit. Luckily he was selling it to us. We don’t have time to go through the proper channels. He needs to go, now. And our fingerprints can’t be anywhere near it.”

“What do you need me to do?” Rosie didn’t share Charlie’s hesitance.

“I prepped this.” Charlie took an injector from her desk drawer. “It’ll slow his breathing to nothing, inducing brain death inside of two minutes. You need to stick him somewhere no one will see. Back of knee, nape of the neck. The blood work will read like an overdose.”

“No problem.” Rosie reached out her hand.

“Think of it as triage.” Charlie gave her the injector. Rosie took it, unsure why it seemed to bother Charlie so much.

Rosie changed to the green fatigues and matching peaked cap Charlie gave her. Matt arrived and led her to the sub level. “Anything goes sideways I’ll cause a distraction, you slip away.” Matt looked even more worried than Charlie.

“Relax, I’ve got this.” Rosie took off the greens and gave them to Matt. She engaged the stealth field, picked the simple lock, and slipped inside.