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Heroes of The Collective Volume One : Resentment
21. Proten #2 : International Rescue : EXTRA ENDING

21. Proten #2 : International Rescue : EXTRA ENDING

Previously....

“Oh darling, I am so sorry that this has happened to you,” Madame Libertié soothed. “Come on, we have to get you home to Gustov, ok? He’s so worried about you and you need to be there for each other right now.”

Stephanie started crying again, so the men stepped away from the bed whilst Libertié and Tank went in to console her.

The leader of the Italian Special Forces entered the room. “We are ready for extraction now,” he said.

“Thank you, but we might need some time. We’ll be down when we’re ready,” Proten solemnly advised.

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***

Brad softly nodded at Sandrine, suggesting it was time to suggest again to Stephanie that it was time to go. Half an hour had passed since the Special Forces leader informed him they were ready, and whilst he was sympathetic to his friend’s trauma, they did have to go. It wasn't safe to stay.

“Stephanie, my dear,” she said soothingly from her bedside. “I think it’s time to go home now. We’ll fly straight back to Italy, get back to Gustov and get you some help.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Sure you can, we’re all here to help you.”

Stephanie started to squirm in the bed, kicking her legs out hysterically and shouting, “No, no, no, no, no!”

Sandrine moved in to calm her but she pushed back, sending the French woman flying across the room. The rest of the team stepped forward but stopped when Stephanie threw the covers off herself and swung her legs over the side.

“NO!” she yelled.

Proten looked on nervously. This was a woman, his friend, in pain. Suffering. Grieving. Hurting. But he prayed she didn’t turn.

Stephanie closed her eyes, and arched her back, breathing deeply. Her chest rising greatly with each inhale. Her fists were clenched and her jaw tight. Proten looked at the others to feel for how they were reacting.

Nervous. Understandable.

“It’s ok Stephanie,” he tried. “We can stay here a bit longer if you want. There’s no rush.”

Her head jerked towards him. Her eyes manic and wide, filled with grief and tears. “No. They can't do this to me.”

And with that, what Proten feared the most, began. Her mouth opened, and continued to do so, extending beyond normal human point of possibility, and turning herself inside out.

What stood in front of everyone was what earned Italy’s Stephanie Del Marta her La Bestia title. The Beast.

Coming in at ten feet tall, with a soft and squidgy, bulging jelly fish like exterior, her mass of long retractable and extendable tentacles that protruded from her body pulsed and squirmed around. She roared in her gargled way- the only way for her to communicate in this state. Stephanie was able to understand what was going on and what was being said, but was unable to communicate back. Neither was she able to completely fight off the raw, predatory monstrous impulse that controlled her in this state.

“Woah! Woah, Stephanie! It’s me! Brad! I need you to-” But it was too late. She charged towards the windowed wall and smashed through it. The G7 team ran over to the hole in the wall and looked down.

“Do you think she knew we were like, a thousand feet up?” Two Tone asked.

“I doubt she got the tour first,” muttered Libertié.

“Well, I think we have to go after her. She’s headed straight for that town down there,” The Constable advised. Sure enough, the small town of Valaŝsek was sat in the valley away from the bottom of the cliff, and in this grieving, pained state Stephanie was in, her beastly instincts would be clouded and dangerous.

“So just as we trained for?” Two Tone asked.

“I’m afraid so, buddy,” the Brit answered, patting him on the back supportively.

Then, as if on cue, one of the Italian military helicopters that they flew to Czechia in ascended into view with its side door open so that they could jump across into the cabin and be taken down.

***

On touch down in the town square, they jumped out, crouching for the helicopter to lift back up to give a birds eye view of where Stephanie was. Leaving Two Tone in the square, the team spread out, tasked with shepherding Stephanie towards him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Madame Libertié,” came an Italian accent of a soldier in the helicopter. “La Bestia is two streets ahead of you, coming towards you. Turn left now to come round behind her.”

“Merci beaucoup,” she responded, doing as instructed. Sure enough, she had managed to follow the street around, and now flanked behind Stephanie.

There were just a couple of corners and a staircase to descend to be able to lead her towards the market square, but Stephanie was not in a compliant mood. Rubble, broken glass and mangled cars were left in the streets that Stephanie had navigated through to get to where she was now.

Knowing fire was a bit of a vulnerability for La Bestia, her membrane prone to burning from the heat of flames, Madame Libertié blasted a ball of fire at a wall just near enough to her. La Bestia flinched at the scorching heat and roared in horror at being attacked. Madame Libertié didn’t like doing it any more than La Bestia liked experiencing it, but this was the role that the G7 members had been trained to do should Stephanie have gone rogue in her La Bestia form.

La Bestia scurried down a side street, so the overhead circling helicopter informed Proten that it was heading for him. From the safety of a blind corner, and the well timed command from the eye in the sky, Proten shot out an extended arm that snaked twenty five metres across the opening of the street and punching La Bestia in the side as she ran through.

The unexpected stun from the force of the punch delivered caused La Bestia to recoil and blindly lash out at an invisible enemy she wasn’t sure was actually there. She changed course and went down the street that they had planned for her to go down, leading her to the staircase into Two Tone’s path.

Last up was Tank, whose job involved detonating a small charge under a poor unsuspecting town person’s car, with the purpose of obstructing La Bestia from continuing further down the ‘wrong’ street. Her timing was perfect, and a frightened, frenzied and lost La Bestia baulked and headed straight down the slope towards the stairs.

“La Bestia è nella trappola,” the voice from the helicopter urgently said. Translated, “The Beast is in the trap.”

“Right, start running now!” shouted The Constable. The helicopter veered off and up to the left flying out to a safe distance, whilst the G7 members on the ground ran further out through the town, as far away from the market square as they could.

As soon as La Bestia realised Two Tone was left standing in front of her, it was too late. From deep within him, Two Tone erupted a violent force of sound waves, creating a sonic boom phenomena fired straight at La Bestia. The pressure from the shock waves were enough to shake through La Bestia’s mass and flicker a survival instinct in the beast that reverted ‘it’ back into ‘her’.

As a consequence, the glass in the windows of the surrounding buildings of the square erupted and shattered into the streets. Not one pane of glass remained intact within a mile’s radius.

Stephanie crumpled into a pile, disorientated, worn out and in grief. Two Tone ran over and scooped up her limp body, keeping her safe. “It’s ok now, I’ve got you,” he whispered to her. “I need a MEDIVAC now!” he called out. “Get us out of here!”

***

Brad and the rest of the group stood outside of Stephanie’s intensive care room, watching Gustov sat by the side of her sedated, recovering body. They landed very shortly after leaving the small Czech town of Valaŝsek, rushing her into the resus room of the medical facility. The Purists had done a relatively good job, considering the treacherous intentions behind their medical work, but Stephanie had signs of a blood infection that needed treatment.

“How did he take it?” Ferris asked, in a respectful, hushed volume.

“I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet. I think the emotions he’s feeling are a battle between relief of having his wife back and yet trying to understand the loss of their unborn child in the circumstances.” Sandrine explained. “They’re both going to be on a long road of recovery.”

“Let’s go then, shall we? Give them some privacy?” Brad suggested.

“I think that’s best. Some of us have got a long journey ahead of us,” said Ose sympathetically.

Brad turned to the group. “Well thanks again guys. Great job out there. We had to dig deeper on this one and we did our best. Until next time.”