Decision to make

Ranger Citadel

Vargas' Office

"This is not cutting it, Vargas." the voice from the phone calmly said. "Without any rangers patrolling in our part, my people are ever more in danger. Highpool cannot risk it anymore."

"I understand, Sir." Vargas' covered his mouth with his knuckle. He closes his eyes as he waited on the expected bad news, "Please bear with us, Mayor Vickstrom. We're doing all that we can."

Mayor Jason Vickstrom of Highpool, one of the few people that Snake Vargas looked up to for respect. A visionary of sorts and Vargas is one of the many with the impression that Highpool wouldn't last this long without his leadership.

"I am aware of your cause, Vargas. I'm in a strong stance for supporting it." Mayor Vickstrom was eloquent as ever. "However, My good ranger, with the recent news... and events has made my people lean more... to a more amiable protection group."

"No, Sir, please, reconsider." Vargas tried begging on as without Highpool's supply of clean water, effectively handicapping the Desert Ranger. With this desert heat, water is a must. "Without your support, rangers are always one hand tied around its back for any fight."

"I apologize, but It's done, Vargas." The mayor said. "Not without giving your people a lifeline, however. One of the conditions I gave to my people is not to take away your much-needed water. It's not much, but the best I can do is give you enough water per week. You have to stop showering now, Vargas."

"Oh, it's enough, sir. Haha! It's plenty enough to keep us back to the good fight." Hearing that saving grace, Vargas had a more relaxed expression. "I can't thank you enough, sir."

"I know you rangers are in a tough spot." Jason gestured on his end, waving it off. "Things now are just at a temporary setback. Everything will soon return to normal. I hope I can still count on you, Rangers when things got out of hand."

"The Desert Rangers are at your service, sir!" Vargas said with a proud tone.

"Thank you, rangers."

Mayor Vickstrom hanged up first. Vargas's posture froze there for a few seconds before putting down the telephone. His face was clearly exhausted from what happened within 48 hours.

"General," Interrupted Woodson, "Team Whiskey is following up on your confirmation about sheltering the civilians, sir."

"Let them in," Vargas said with a hand on his head. "Fuck, let them all in."

"Sir," Woodson asked again with a straight face, "I need your formal confirmation."

Vargas pressed the button on his microphone, "Ranger Citadel to Whiskey Lead. Call granted to your request. I'll be troubling Woodson to be your liaison for this."

When Vargas is done with the call, he pressed his back to his chair. Ignoring the complaining look from Woodson.

This brief lull moment made him think back on what he saw on the projection screen. They were undeniably the real thing, as their file says, Best of the best. Comparing them to the best of the Desert Rangers was like comparing... He broke off this thought as he can't think of anything close to them. Not even the war movies can do them any justice.

He gathered his thoughts as he looked at his desk, littered with folders and their containers. He segregated them according to their grouping: Strategic Homeland Division, Group for Specialized Tactics, Special Activities Division.

Then he ranked them according to the amount of information they have on their profiles, their capabilities, and guessed risks. Leading him to see the Division Agents as with the least posed danger, even helpful for the ranger for their skillset. The Ghosts as the actual danger, while the two kids, as he calls it, can be the most dangerous of them all. Both of their files only have one page. Their name, their affiliation, and their paper's control code, that's it and nothing more.

"Project SAGA-DAEDALUS... SAGA-DAEDALUS," he said in a low voice over and over.

"Woodson," Vargas called over, "Prep me an escort team. I'll be going to the Ranger Hotel."

"Sir?" Woodson got taken aback by that, "Surviving villagers, captured gang members, and the Combat Teams will be here in an hour and a half. Sir, you can't be expecting to leave that much work to us?"

Vargas snorted as he hastily packed each folder per group along with its black casing. He picked up his cane and walked out to the doorway, "The hell, I can't! Woodson! I need to talk to the Ex-Com before he kicked the can. Bother everyone up if you want. I'll be back by tomorrow."

"Sir- Sir! Sir!" As Vargas darted away from the room, Woodson shook his head and cursed, "Ah, shit! What the fuck do I do now?"

----------------------------

Somewhere in West Arizona

"It's been five years since we last talked to the General," said Thrasher while holding a small map and a pencil. "A bit of a waste driving our assess to him. Fuel is not an easy thing to come by."

"I need to know more about them!" Vargas growled as he looked on at the view by the windows of the armored vehicle. "And It's worth it!"

"That's it?" Thrasher doubted him. Even so, he trusted him. Thrasher stopped insisting on the question when Vargas did not respond to him. Instead, he just relayed directions to the lead vehicle through his radio. Destination: Ranger Hotel.

Ranger Hotel or Retirement Home. A small piece of paradise inside a canyon only to be used by former generals of the Desert Rangers. It was discovered even before Surgrue was inaugurated as the new general. There's clean flowing water, fertile land, enough space for a village to even live in. However, only a skeletal amount of people is living in it, and it is a heavily guarded secret by the rangers. More so that it is heavily guarded by actual rangers. Not for the reason that it's a lovely paradise for the leaders of the ranger... Actually, it's a prison for them for the knowledge they hold. A stupid fucking rule, as Vargas puts it. Despite it, he can't deny the action done by his predecessors to safeguard their future. Furthermore, you'll live there peacefully without much worry about what to eat or drink.

"Once we got to General Surgrue... I'll tell you everything." Vargas massages his knee, "My ass is itching just remembering the beat down I got from him."

"Hahaha! The one who can survive snake bites can't even survive that old man's nagging," Thrasher's laugh filled the interior of their armored vehicle. "Back then, I've heard you always ran out of the room when it comes to the general's Land Navigation class. You and Hell Razor had much more common than anyone about that, Can't seem to stay still."

"How about you?" Vargas looked at his friend, "A tall man like you got handled in by a smaller man. Haha! The first time you came in at the Center, you were roughing up anyone for a fight. The general took you on, and when it started, you only took one hit to the face, and you're already mouthing up dirt."

Vargas and Thrasher reminisce about their early days in the Desert Rangers, the experience, the people, the food, and the sad moments with their fallen comrades.

"General," Sitting in the front seat, Staff Sgt Pia interrupted them. "E.T.A to Ranger Hotel, 3 Mikes. Team Sierra is hailing us in" She handed out a radio to Vargas.

"This is Top Hat to Sierra Lead," Vargas called in,

"Sir, we haven't received an appointment for a book reading." A female voice replied in, her tone was straight... Not caring even if the one she's talking to is the Commander-in-Chief.

"An emergency Visit, Sierra Lead." Vargas quickly said,

"Affirmative, standing by for raffle code." Sierra Lead voice out.

Vargas pulled out a stick made in wax with the size and shape of a pencil. He broke it off in half, and a piece of paper appeared. A radio in one hand and a piece of paper on the other, he read out the code in various languages like English, French, Spanish, and even Navajo.

"Welcome to Ranger Hotel, Top Hat. Be advised, you won't be able to use another raffle code for 3 months. Enter the Apache Gate, then turn right for processing. Sierra Lead Out."

Vargas gave back the radio to his aide. He and Thrasher looked on onto each other. Both agreed that every time they went into this place, all sorts of redundant procedure was always a waste of time.

The Desert Rangers convoy zigzag their way into the canyon with Thrasher leading them into the secret path. Then once they come close to a clearing, they were greeted with the sight of a large structure. A concrete wall so large that it looks to be incorporated into the canyon itself with a big metal gate in the middle.

The lead vehicle came to a stop, there SSgt Pia's radio rang out. A different voice, a male voice, sounded out and asked them about their purpose, how many they are, and how long will they stay.

Satisfied. The gate finally opened in a sideways manner. The convoy drove in. Some of the first-timers in the escort team can't help and awe at such a sight. It's a literal fortress, they say. They quickly turned timid once they say the "Veterans," not budging or even saying anything.

They were guided in by a member of the Sierra Team, dressed in all black gear that even his face is covered by a black face shield. The convoy parked in a designated spot, the middle vehicle that Vargas and Thrasher were in was the first vehicle to let its occupants out.

Vargas and Thrasher were escorted out first to a cave by Sierra Team. While the rest of the convoy team was checked and questioned extensively. They cooperated with everything once they saw the crazy amount of turrets directed to their way.

The two walked through a man-made structure that is constructed inside a cave. It was a short walk before Vargas and Thrasher entered a roofed walk bridge that connects to the other side of the canyon. On the other end, a female ranger in a parade rest waiting for them.

"Still beautiful every time I come here," Vargas says,

The black hair brown-eyed female ranger flinched at that, "Ahem. Sir, flattery won't get you anywhere."

"Oh... What? I was talking about this place..." Vargas gave her a questioning look.

"....."

"Ahem... Makes you wonder about this place, isn't it?" Thrasher melded himself in the awkward conversation, "Everywhere there's devastation, and then we see places like this, untouched by the fire from the old war."

"A hollowed-out cave, enough space for farm, enough space for people, underground reservoir-clean water, and easily defendable place. The beauty here is that you can forget about everything outside. Live in this cuddly bubby cave forever. You can even look at the starry sky at night." Thrasher pointed up.

"Thank you for the introduction, Sir." the female ranger nods at him as she regained composure. "We've... done... the preliminary preparation for your book reading, sir." She said with a smile

"What?!" Both Vargas and Thrasher screamed at her.

"You've done it now, Ivana!" Thrasher jumps his eyes between her and a house at a distance. "The damn old man won't give us the chance to hear the end of it!"

"HECK!" Vargas's face was livid, "Now, you've done us in! Fuck this! When this is done, Sierra Lead. You and I are gonna have a talk--"

Vargas got interrupted by an angry voice coming from the house.

"GET OVER HERE!" The voice said, "WHAT FUCKING TALK?! HUH!? WAKING ME UP IN THIS GODDAMN HOUR OF THE DAY! WHAT?! YOU DIDN'T HERE ME?! I SAID GET OVER HERE!"

Vargas and Thrasher, with their cane to help them, hurriedly make their way to the house. Cursing under their breath along the way.

Thrasher steeled himself as he was sure that somewhere in his face, it will be bleeding after this is over. While Vargas took off his glasses and put it in his breast pocket... for some reason.

As the two got close to the door...

*Bang*

A shot rang out! Vargas and Thrasher threw themselves into the ground and crawled behind a cover.

"He's already fried, Snake!" Thrasher shouted out. Seeing things had gone like this, he wanted to head home and just sleep. "I wanna get outta here. Should've known this is a waste of time!"

*Bang*

"WHO YOU CALLING A WASTE?!" General Surgrue replied.

"Nobody's calling you a waste, Sir!"

Vargas gestured to Thrasher to keep himself down. "2 shots," He whispered and point out two of his fingers, "It's a six-shooter. We just have to wait him out,"

A voice called out from behind.

"What are you two doing there?" Asked Ivana,

Hearing it, Vargas didn't think twice and crawled towards her, "Get down!"

Ivana laughed, "Pfft! What? No." And walked without care to the door.

Thrasher and Vargas stared at her with their jaws wide open. On their mind, Ivana was literally walking to her death.

"Well? Do something!" Thrasher said in a frantic expression, "My leg's too busted to crawl fast enough!"

"Shh!" Vargas hissed at his friend, "Wait- Shut up! Just give it a minute. Something's not right here."

Vargas looked more at her... Why did she laugh? That's the lingering question that stuck to him. He kept his gaze on her way. He's sure that he can't be considered a smart person like those folks at Ag Center, nor intuitive like those people at High Pool... The only smarts he got going for him is guts. A big pile of it, and it's telling him that he shouldn't be worried about anything happening.

Thrasher paused at that, then ground his teeth in anger, "Cause she's going to DIE! that's what's wrong here--"

*Bang* *Bang* *Bang* *Bang*

Four shoots cuts in as Thrasher lashes out at Vargas. Their faces contorted not because the worst thing has happened. In fact, there were like that when they heard what comes after the gunshot. A giggle that they sure came from Ivana.

"DANG IT! GIRL!" Surgrue threw the six-shooter somewhere in the room, "Changing my bullets to blanks! How am I gonna kill Jaime and Gilbert with this!?"

Ivana coughed due to involuntary inhaling the black powder smoke that filled up the living room. She heads across the room and opens up a window. "I told you, Grandpa. You can't just kill anyone you want."

"NO! I'll kill those two! No! I'll kill them three! No! I'll kill them four! No! I'll kill them five!" Surgrue keeps on and on about killing someone.

"You can come in now." Ivana raised her voice as she beckons out to the two. Playing with a broken toaster on the side, "I'll stay here. In case he really tries killing you two."

After that, Thrasher gave Vargas a smile of contempt while Vargas shook the dirt from his elbows and knees. He gave Thrasher a nod, and soon the two of them help themselves up with their cane to stand up. Not before he picked up the three black square packs with him.

"Good to know you're alive and kicking, General." Thrasher walked first inside the house.

"We're sorry for the trouble, Sir." Vargas followed in next. Both He and Thrasher sat down on the chair across Surgrue.

Despite his old age, Surgrue was sensitive enough to know to calm down... Sensing that something must have happened to risk themselves coming here.

"I'll go straight on ahead, Sir," Vargas placed the three black casings on the table between him and Surgrue, "First, I want you to see what I have."

"Girl," As Sugrue said that, Ivana stepped forward and gave him his reading glasses.

Surgrue, lean slowly forward from his chair. He gave Vargas a questioning look, "Jaime, I hope you know what's good for you. If there's a snake ready to strike me, you'll be good as dead."

Vargas gave him a wide smile like a pranking kid, "Open them all up, whatever you think it is, Heh. Well, let's say just try one."

Surgrue picked the one closest to him. He hefts the object close to him, inspecting it by shaking, smelling, and even tapping on it to have a grasp on what actually it is.

Vargas instructed him on what to do. Next, Surgrue eyes widened when he grabbed the folder from inside the black casing, seeing the cover on the folder.

"Department of Defense..." Surgrue voice trailed. He looked at Vargas, still smiling, then He looked at Thrasher, nodding back at him.

He opened up the folder. What comes next is the unexplainable surprise he showed. Mumbling, shaking, and crying.

"Of all people," Surgrue gradually became louder. "With did it have to be you?!"

"Where did you find this?!" He shouted at Vargas.

Vargas shook his head,

"Don't go in a riddle, Jaime!" Surgrue angrily said.

"Rather, they found us, Sir." Vargas stood before him and pointed at the barcode on the paper. "The reason I came here is to know if you still have that little box thing that flashes a red light when you push it in. That thing's shape fits perfectly to that length of this."

"The- The- They found you?!" That fact riled the old man's composure.

Surgrue slowly pulled out a 2x1 size grey rectangle from the sleeves of his robe. A strap is still attached to his arm, a reminder that he dedicated this thing to himself. Nobody was sure how or why, but after a century, this thing can still operate that tiny red light it has on.

He raised the object over the barcode line, "It fits..." His breathing became heavy as he anticipates the day that their secret mission can be fulfilled.

*Click*

He pressed down on the object, a positive click was heard as the scanner showed a green color instead of the usual red.

*Click* *Click*

The barcode scanner hummed out confirmation by a double tune.

*Clack*

The last sound is much different as it came from the casing itself.

Vargas held the casing and inspected it. Inside of it popped a small opening. "The mystery has increasingly deepened."

"Vargas?" Thrasher worriedly asked,

Vargas pulled out a red folder, much thicker than the current folder which Surgrue has.

An idea suddenly took hold, and Vargas quickly pulled out the rest of the folder from the other casings. He hurriedly borrowed the barcode scanner from the crying Surgrue.

The same thing happened.

Vargas gestured for Thrasher to check it out. A few seconds later, another two large folders are laid out on the table.

"It's True!" Surgrue groaned. Tears are running down his face as the realization of the secret mission is dawning on him. "Captain Mcknight, You were right! Project SAGA-DAEDALUS exists! We're saved!"

"This can't be good," Overly pessimistic, Vargas scanned through the contents of each red folder. "All this time, it's somewhere here around West Arizona... The ability to restore the earth... It's just here... sleeping..."

"Snake," Surgrue gestured him to look at him. "You said they found you... Correct? Meaning some people came from that area?"

Vargas nodded.

"General Jaime 'Snake' Vargas," Surgrue tone change to a more commanding manner. "As the 9th Commanding Officer of the former 53rd Company, Army Corps of Engineer, now, Desert Rangers. Hear my words. I, General Lincoln Surgrue, former commanding officer of the Desert Rangers, advises you to uphold the main tenants of the foundation of our oath."

"Helping people! All of them! Do not tread the path of absolute regret when now you have known full well the capacity and the objectives of Project SAGA-DAEDALUS."

"Do not be tempted to hold over the reins of that place."

"Do not try to make the same mistakes of the old world."

"Most of all, Vargas." Surgrue pointed his finger at him.

"I know who you are, don't try the same thing with what you did with the Guardian Citadel. It's not the same trophy you proudly bask yourself in. That's why some of us refuse to let that place became our new base. If you don't heed my warning, this pride of yours will kill us all!"

♪Sh-Boom - Allison Young♪