Vol. III Chapter 66 The Red List

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.

"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.

After she locked the door again, Rosie took in the sparse room. Anything of value long gone. Nothing more than a locker, desk and a bed taken from the infirmary. She pressed herself into the corner and waited.

Soon enough her target burst through the door, sweating and anxious. Rosie doubted she needed the stealth field as he pulled out a drawer to get at his stash. He held a lighter under a spoon with trembling hands and filled a syringe. He took off his boot and rolled up his trouser leg, tying a rubber tube tight around his ankle.

Rosie let him get his fix. His manner calmed and movement stilled. She padded silently across the room, ducking down and crawling to get under the chair. She pressed the injector to the back of the knee. He didn't even flinch.

A moment later, his head slumped forward. Rosie tilted it back, straining his slowed breathing further. She checked for a pulse, finding none. She lingered a minute longer to be sure. Rosie slipped out into an empty corridor, finding Matt waiting.

"We good?" He asked as she dressed in her black fatigues.

"Yeah." Rosie knew she'd got it done.

"You ok?" Matt had a worried look.

"Yeah." She still didn't understand why he and Charlie thought this would be difficult.

"Give me the injector, I'll have Janey incinerate it." Matt held out a biohazard bag with the green fatigues in and she dropped it in. Matt breathed a sigh of relief. "Charlie wants to see you."

Rosie went back to the Recon HQ. No one gave her a second glance. Charlie waved her into the office. "We good?"

"Yeah." She saw Charlie relax.

"You ok?" Charlie asked, the same worried look.

"Yeah." Rosie hid her annoyance at the question.

"Good. I wouldn't have asked you if we had a better play." Charlie got up from her desk, forcing a smile. "Come on. The food's terrible but there's plenty of it."

They walked out of the office, when Janey's feed came on in Rosie's vision. "Paul's awake." Rosie waited for Charlie to get an envelope from the office and they all but sprinted to the infirmary.

Matt met them at the door. "Family only." A stern nurse said as they walked in.

"They are family." Charlie didn't even look at him.

"Charlie." Paul murmured, bloodshot eyes half open.

"I'm here, you're at the outpost." She took his hand and started to cry as he squeezed it back.

"What happened?" He asked, gradually getting his bearings.

"We had a meet with Jones. It was an ambush." Charlie tried to give him as little information as possible.

"We whole?" Paul saw Matt and Rosie. Charlie held up the letter.

"No." Rosie saw him suffer a pain no medication could help with.

They gave Paul time to take in the news. Charlie got a nod from everyone and opened the letter.

"I, Sentinel Brandon Cross, being of relatively sound mind, ask the following be carried out in the event of…" Charlie trailed off and cleared the lump in her throat. "My wine collection is to be left to Paul. Under the strict condition every drop goes into a glass and not a pan. My records go to Sara, comic books to Matthew and my other books to Rosie. To Charlie I leave the thing most precious to me, my team, my family. Finally, enclosed are letters for Sara, Clarke, and my team. I ask that my team gather and read their letter."

"Any and all remaining property is to be sold and funds donated to the nearest orphanage. With an amount set aside to go behind the bar of the nearest establishment of ill repute. All my love, Brandon. P.S. I would very much like Janey to have my chess set, she knows where it is."

Charlie opened the letter for the team, her tears turning to laughter. "You idiots! You finally went and screwed up bad enough that I had to do something daring and heroic. And this time, I didn't make it out. That's alright. I'd give my life for any of you ten times over."

"Paul, I don't know who I'd be without you. I'm guessing I'd be thinner. And not half the man I am today. No matter how bad things got. How short on ammo we were. How outnumbered we were. I knew you'd be right there with me. In fact I'm guessing if you're there and I'm not, you're in a hospital bed. Don't blame yourself old friend. We spat in the face of death for years. The bill comes due. If I pay it instead of you, that's fine with me. Stay strong brother, and thank you."

"Charlie. You're a first rate scout, a true friend, and an amazing wife. But a better Second there is not. Your insights made me better, forced me to think outside of what I knew. When I had your backing I knew we would walk out without a scratch. It's your team now. I hope you find a Second half as good as mine."

"Matthew. Your father would be proud of you. I know that because I was given the honour of filling in for him, and I am proud of you, son. Watching you grow from a boy filled with fear, into a man in complete control of that fear, has been incredible. I have no doubt that you would have made a chief worthy of many songs. It saddens me that I'll miss you getting fat and old and slow. I want you to promise to work things out with Sara. You two have loved each other from day one. Stop getting in each other's way."

"Rosie. If you're hearing this then we didn't get the kind of time together I hoped for. I'm sorry for that. In all my years, all my travels and my career, you are the most exceptional person I have ever met. Not because of the tech on your arm, in spite of it. If I had your gifts, I may have used them for profit or power. I may have used them just because I could. You haven't done any of that. What you have done is work to save strangers, even without meaning to. You can make a real difference Rosie, on a level I never could. It's up to you to make sure that difference helps people. If you are ever unsure, let your family guide you."

"It was an honour my friends. See you in the next life. All my love, Brandon." Charlie folded the letter away as if it were fragile, then burst into tears.

"I'll deliver those." Rosie volunteered after regaining most of her composure. "I'll bring back real food." She squeezed Paul's hand.

She remembered the way to the elder's office from her last visit. This time she knocked on the door. Sara smiled as she opened the door, seeing Rosie in uniform.

"Don't we look handsome." Sara's smile faded as Rosie held out the letters. "You know, I don't think I'm ready for that just yet." Sara took them both, laying them respectfully on the desk.

"I could use a hand." Rosie didn't know how Sara had coped so well, and didn't want to see her fall apart.

Rosie led Sara to the back entrance of the mess. The cooks finished for the day and Rosie had the run of the spacious kitchen. She grabbed a dozen fresh tatos, cut them into chunks. Seasoned and drizzled in oil, Rosie slid them into the oven.

"What do you need me to do?" Sara asked.

"Oh, I don't actually need to do anything. I figured no one would stop me if you were here." Rosie got a laugh.

"You would have let them stop you?" Sara asked with a grin.

"Everyone here deserves respect." Rosie had made an effort to fit in and not cause trouble.

"You know I can actually help." Sara washed her hands.

"Great, can you blanch those." Rosie handed her a bowl of tatos.

"Sure, I can blanch them up real nice." Sara switched on the grill. Rosie tried not to laugh, admiring how well Sara bluffed.

"I just need you to boil them for a few minutes, then drop them into cold water." Rosie tried to remember how Paul taught her.

"I know that." Sara broke into laughter, letting Rosie do the same.

Rosie made the soup, talking with Sara as the pot bubbled away. She felt closer to Sara than before, seeing Brandon's mannerisms and hearing his turns of phrase.

"You should have this." Rosie took the knife from her pocket and gave it to Sara. "I made one each for the team. It's Saturnite alloy, cuts through pretty much anything."

"Anything?" Sara flicked the smoke coloured blade out, a dubious look on her face. Rosie glanced around, pulling a bone from the pile of leftovers. She held it one hand, taking the knife carefully with the other. The bone offered no resistance as Rosie slashed it in two. "Damn." Sara's doubts vanished.

"He'd want you to have it." Rosie managed to whisper.

"I think you're right. I also think he'd want us to watch out for each other, like family." Sara put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'd like that." Rosie smiled through the tears as Sara hugged her.

"Can you toast that bread?" Rosie tasted the soup and took it off the boil. "This time you should use the grill."

"Fuck you. I can make toast" Sara seemed lightened by the break, and the company.

With the second lot of bread toasted, Rosie ladled soup into plastic bowls and headed back to the infirmary. The sight of Sara and the smell of real food brought Paul a lift. Matt reached for a bowl as she set them down. Rosie batted his hand back, adding a touch of fresh cream.

"Well?" She asked, eager for Paul's verdict.

"Needs," Paul smiled as Rosie cut him off.

"Hot sauce." She held out the tiny bottle from the pre-war pouches that were like gold dust.

They sat and enjoyed a meal together, enjoying the company, learning to cope with the absence.