Part Two: Journals of the Militia

August 6, 2052

James O'Neill

"Ninety-nine," I said my eyes wide. "Ninety-nine experiments," I repeated, not to clarify but because I was in shock. Emily and Aimee exchanged glances, then winced as the helicopter made a sudden jolt. Emily gripped her newly bandaged shoulder as she did. As we had made an exit from the foyer, a furious General Tanaka had come screeching at seeing Lena in our arms. She had demanded we give her Lena, who had apparently killed her brother some time ago. Aimee had refused and in her fury, Tanaka had shot at Aimee, Emily had jumped in front of the bullet injuring her shoulder, and a couple of resistance fighters on seeing that Emily had got shot had descended upon General Tanaka with the force of a tidal wave, giving us the distraction we needed to escape.

Thankfully the bullet had been a through and through. While getting shot had hurt, it hadn't killed Emily. So that was that. I'd bandaged Emily myself when we had taken off from the Helicopter so I knew she'd be fine. I was more worried for Lena who had slept through all of that ruckus and was now sleeping through the noise of the helicopter. "She should be fine," Aimee said from the cockpit. "I only made sure to hit her hard in the head so she'd snap out of the rage phase of the serum she had been given. It's probably out of her system." Aimee said. "She'll be fine," Emily said.

"Of course she will be fine. She's Lena Drake. She always survives." Aimee said, with a bit of an edge to her voice. Westley got up from the pilot's seat looking once at Aimee and then at me. "Autopilot is on. It's about an hour to our destination." Westley said. "Where is our destination? You never said where we are going." Aimee asked. Westley ran a hand through his hair hesitating and avoiding my gaze as he answered. "Peru."

My eyes widened as I realized where exactly we were going. Or to be more precise, who we were going to. "Are you insane? You think he's going to help us?" I said. I had spent many years in Peru before being transferred back to the States. "Yes, I think he'll help us. He has an extremely compelling reason to want to help." Westley reminded me looking pointedly at Lena.

"This is going to end badly."

August 7, 2052

James

I wasn't wrong about things going badly, but I was wrong about it being the end. This wasn't the end not by a long shot. Peru was the home to another military installation codename: Athena. Base Athena is where the former headmaster of the Academy now sat as Admiral Drake, or as Lena's father. A fact which she learned upon waking up. After many death threats and mentions of strangling us while her companions laughed in the background, Lena was taken to an interrogation room with both her father who she hasn't seen since she was declared dead; and her Uncle, Detective Drake who had apparently shown up ten hours before we did. That left the rest of our group in the mess hall. Emily was happily chowing down on the food that had been served to us all. Mostly meat and potatoes with a seasonal Rosemary bread that perfumed the whole table. Aimee glanced at the food distrustfully and gave a side glance to Westley who was eating with as much enthusiasm as Emily was before she turned to me. "What happens to us if this Admiral decides not to help us?" She asked. "Regardless of what the Admiral says, we will be helping you," I said. "Anyways," Westley said taking a pause from eating. "The Admiral will be helping us. Selene is his daughter."

"Lena hasn't been around him for years." Aimee pressed. "You can't forget the family your born into. No matter what." Emily said. "Trust me, I've tried." She said. I rolled my eyes. These girls were so dramatic. I'm surprised that Lena found a kinship with them. "I know you have no reason to trust in us, or that we will or can help you. But hopefully, we can earn that trust." I said. "We don't need time," Lena said, as she came up to us. She looked exhausted and worn. We have the support of the military." She said glancing at me and Westley. "The support of the Military?" Emily asked. "To do what?" Aimee asked.

"The final Mission."