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The Gunner: Iron Gun
Chapter Two: A Father's Call to Arms

Chapter Two: A Father's Call to Arms

Nesting on the window ledge of a small farmhouse, a family of bluebirds chirped as a black cat with white paws crouched on the other side of the glass, watching them in wait. The cat crept forward, mimicking the slow, focused stalk of a lion closing in on prey.

The farmhouse stood isolated, right between a barren stretch of military land and the small town of Hans. One half of the property was a dusty sweep of desert sand, while the other half held short razor grass that the cows ate.

At the front of the house, a man lay stretched out on the wooden steps of the porch, his legs extended and his back resting against the worn-down planks. He wore a red t-shirt, slightly baggy blue jeans tucked neatly into sturdy boots, and a worn-out brown cowboy hat with a sharp seam circling the brim. But what stood out most was his metal arm, catching the sun’s rays and reflecting them in bright, sharp glints.

"Meow! Meow, hiss!"

The man stirred, glancing toward the cat. "Lo! The cat’s at the window again."

"I've got him, Dad, and he has a name, you know—it's Mister Meow!"

"And that's why I refuse to say his name."

"Hey!"

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Next time I'll remember to address Mister Meow properly. Now stop pouting."

For a moment, time felt suspended—just a father, his daughter, and their cat, wrapped up in the simple comfort of home.

But as all good things come, so do they go.

"Skirrr."

Lo perked up, peering down the dirt driveway. "Hey, Dad. Ten o’clock. There’s a black car with two people inside. They look like they’re military."

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The man tilted his hat back, squinting against the sun with one eye open. "Well, look at that—you’re never wrong, Lo. They are military."

"What do you think they want, Dad?"

He sighed, rolling a piece of wheat between his teeth. "Nothing good, I’ll tell you that. Just stay calm, alright?"

The car door opened, and the two people stepped out.

"You sit out here all the time!?"

The cowboy tilted his head. "You always ask questions before introducing yourself—ma’am!?"

The woman blushed from embarrassment. "Apologies. Sometimes I forget my manners. My name is Vivian, I'm an officer of Military Unit Four. My acting commander is Commander Griffith. He said to tell you ‘hi.’"

The cowboy scoffed, tipping his hat down further. Good grief, he thought, Griffith always finds ways to get under my skin. Sending this woman here—what was he thinking?

"So, what do you want with me? Make it quick; you're interrupting father-daughter time."

The officer cleared her throat, glancing at Lo. "I’d rather say this in private; if you don’t mind."

The cowboy didn’t budge. "She’ll be fine. Look around you. If you’re worried about scaring her, don’t be—she doesn’t scare that easily."

The concern in her eyes was unmistakable, but she had her orders and every intention of following them. "Mister Gunner, code name Iron Gun—you’ve been ordered by the Fourth Military Unit to return to active duty. These orders come directly from the head of state. And you will serve under Commander Griffith in the Fourth Unit until your services are no longer required. Is that understood?"

Lo glanced up at her father, her eyes wide. Dad, are you really going to leave? I don’t want you to go!

The cowboy knelt beside his daughter, placing a hand on her shoulder as he looked back at Officer Vivian. You see what you did, huh!? Now my baby girl’s sad because of you and your teenager-looking driver.

“What I did? Excuse you! You’re the one who said it was fine and that she could handle it in the first place, so don’t go blaming me, you wannabe cowboy.”

“Please, can everyone just calm down? Miss Vivian, if the commander saw you like this, he wouldn’t be pleased,” Mitchell interjected.

"Both Vivian and the cowboy said simultaneously, ‘Oh, shut up, kid, Mitchell.’”

“Hey, Lo, listen to me. I’m not leaving forever, but I do have to do this job. I promise I’ll explain to you why, but for now, you just have to trust me when I say that I’m not abandoning you.”

“That’s right, kid. Also, the military will be looking after you and keeping you safe at all times—that's the agreement anyway. So don’t be scared.”

You hear that? You won’t be alone, Lo. The cowboy turned back to Vivian and Mitchell. Officer, we’ll leave in three days, so make yourselves comfortable. We’ve got two extra rooms. There’s some stuff that I need to do before I leave here.

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