Nox had listened to Elyse's breathing most of the night. His head was full of things he had to do. Of things that he should have done before shit hit the fan. He didn't sleep at all, and when too many sleepless hours had passed Nox pulled himself from underneath Elyse's sleeping form. Nox was at a loss of how to leave Elyse a note, he didn't want her to think he'd left. But he hoped she'd understand he couldn't leave his wallet with her to leave the message and she didn't have one. Hopefully Sage would help fix that up soon.

Nox pulled his jeans and t-shirt on from the day before and resigned himself to getting his things from the hotel later that morning, along with picking up the puppy from the vet and then if he was lucky dropping off the book to Aria's so-called friend to pay off her debt.

Dorian had given them free reign of the house to which Nox took full advantage of once he got downstairs to the first floor. He glanced at time and started a pot of coffee - a large pot. He was drained, but it was still 4am. Right on time for his nightmares to have woken him up anyway.

The pot was nearly finished when Christian walked in bleary eyed in a pair of pajamas. He smiled as he poured a cup of coffee for himself and sipped at it before he turned to Nox with a smile. "Is this normal?"

Nox nodded. "Yep. I'd go for a run, but this is all the clothes I got for the moment."


"I'd offer some of Cruz's but you don't look like you'd want to wear slacks and a button down. I doubt Cruz owns anything but... and sadly I don't think you'd fit into mine."

Nox grinned as he finished his cup of coffee. "That's alright. I'll get a workout in just not a run."


"Dorian doesn't have anything set up in this house for any amount of training. Everything is still very much as we found it. Ana will have everything fixed up here. But I'm afraid I'll be doing all the work." Christian sighed.

"I can help. Me and my sister converted a warehouse into living quarters. I built an entire sound proof room, tiled the bathroom and installed a claw foot bathtub all by myself. Aria's boyfriend did the painting."
The memory that Lucas' painting was gone made Nox frown. So much lost in such a short period of time.

Christian took Nox's cup and poured him another cup of coffee and nodded for him to follow him. "The basement is relatively unfinished. You could turn it into whatever you need. I'm sure Dorian wouldn't mind. As long as there was adequate space to spar in he'll be more than happy."

Nox grinned. "A man after my own heart."
Nox followed Christian downstairs to the unfinished basement. It was pretty much just a storage space full of crap inside of cinder block walls and supports holding up the three story structure above it. There was amble room to create a sparring ring, one like he had in the warehouse as well as a few extra rooms down the way for other things. But it was dusty and filled with boxes of things Nox didn't think any rich person would truly want. He opened the first box to find piles of old ragged clothes and a bunch of moths fluttered out of it. "Who the hell owned this place before Dorian?"


Christian laughed. "I'm going to go start breakfast. Dorian will be down to head to work soon. I'll bring you another cup of coffee in a bit. You look like you could use the whole pot."

Nox smiled. "Thanks man."


Well it was one way to get a workout in. Nox started moving boxes and sorting through each thing. Nox put his wallet on a random sweep of everything he owned in his music library. The music floated from a wispy ballet to techno then into some old school Methos before he was actually dancing with a piece from Swan Lake. It was actually the same song that had started playing when Nox switched the playlist when he first met Dane. It was full of memories and Nox got lost in the actual forms of the dance. He forgot about what he was doing and fell into the music and lost himself dancing around what he'd already cleared in the basement.

Images of Ambulances leaving the Kremlin. A man who was clearly the Ascendancy with burns covering his head. Pictures of other injuries embedded in the document.

A snippet of a deleted email with personal information redacted stating that a high security patient was inbound on a helicopter.

Rumors of Assassins in the Kremlin. Images of snakes biting their own tail flashed through the rotation.

A medical report summarizing the victims injuries with the time highlighted and the security memo posted with it. Timestamped images around midnight of the security cameras on the roof rolling a man in from a helicopter.

The words Ascendancy in Grave Condition. In Surgery. Not Immortal! Not a God!

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Code: Digital Signature</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>

Code:

01010000011010000011010000110101001100110111001000100000
00101101001000000011000100110011001101000110010000110011
01110010001000000011000001100110001000000111010001101000
00110011001000000110001000110000011100100011100100100001

It was a crisp, bright morning without a cloud in the blue sky. The sun had barely peaked above the horizon before the wind started blowing, whipping a cloud of fine brown dust and yellow sand across the beige tents as they strained against their tethers. The sandstorm was already promising to leave a mess behind at Forward Operating Base Able, likely grounding the helicopters for another day. The sand was playing hell with their intakes, a flaw which was supposedly fixed when the Arapahoes rolled off the production line.

They were in the sandbox, all right. Things never went the way you expected them to. When Toni’s squad had first disembarked from the C-130J and secured their equipment, they found their tents had no friggin’ cots. Not a good thing in the snake- and scorpion- infested Sahara. There was a scorpion called the friggin’ Deathstalker. Which sounded real kickass but she didn’t want to wake up to one. Apparently the equipment that was supposed to be delivered by the Nigerien military had been instead sold to the locals. The liaison officer, Maj. Abebi Aketola, apologetically explained that this was all too common an occurrence, but that the responsible parties would be severely punished. That was reassuring to Toni.

Major Atekola had plenty of helpful advice about Zinder -- pronounced Cinder -- the large city apparently built entirely out of clay and mud that sprawled out near the the airfield they were rapidly turning into a fortified encampment. “When you go into the city, stay in the market areas,” he said with a heavy accent. “You can go into the shops, but don’t into any of the houses and definitely stay out of the lower parts of the city. That’s how people disappear in Zinder.” Not that Toni had any interest in doing any of those things -- and her squad certainly wasn’t going to get any passes to go to any of those places. Zinder was creepy. There were far too few people for a city that size -- like three quarters of the city were just gone. All too skinny locals just watched you. The adults, anyway. The children played recklessly when they didn’t look emaciated. And the women, especially, seemed very nervous. It was all very unnerving.

She found out more about that soon enough. “Don’t forget that we are guests here, not occupiers,” said the new company protocol officer, 1st Lt. Donavan Marshall. The West Point grad was eager to get his first deployment out of the way, likely so he could get his second bar and a fresh new assignment. “We don’t enforce local laws. Stay in your lane. As a part of our guest status agreement we will help train and organize local law enforcement groups contracted by Shale Industries. But we do not get involved with local politics when it runs contrary to national law. We are here to maintain order and protect the work on the Transnigerian Aqueduct, the Shale Industries employees and contractors.”

Some of those women were undoubtedly slaves, then. The civil war of the 2020s and 2030s had wiped out nearly half the population before the military had restored order. Surviving families had turned to selling off their children, especially their daughters. Slavery was technically illegal, but in practice the law was still ignored. Many of these women themselves were complicit in it, having no other options. Faced with the choice between slavery or starvation, of course they chose to remain.

It made Toni want to vomit to think of someone beaten down so badly. She sighed. Orders were orders. Best she could do was help make sure this aqueduct got done. Access to water in the far reaches of the desert would get the mines operating again, which would restore prosperity to Niger and Chad -- and, of course, Nigeria, who was undoubtedly making money hand over fist in this deal through their water sales. And prosperity meant options besides starvation or slavery. They’d already tried the fighting thing out and it turned out they weren’t so good at it.

But all of those things were way above Toni’s pay grade to worry about. What was for her to worry about was making sure her squad was properly bedded down and ready to roll first thing in the morning. First thing was to dig out bunkers reinforced with sandbags so they could take cover if they got mortared. Flying shrapnel would rip right through those tents. That made for a good night’s sleep. Toni and Weber crashed in the one long tent reserved for females. The camp had room for 4,000 soldiers but was only about a quarter filled, and only a couple of the pilots and other non-ranger personnel were female. The morning would consist of baby-wipe baths -- water was too scarce to waste on showers -- and relieving oneself in the one-seater latrine before PT. Toni led her squad on a morning run in full battle rattle around the inside of the still-being-constructed dirt berm and barbed wire perimeter. She expected them to get acclimated Then came breakfast, which was prepackaged MREs and bottled water. Apparently the locals hired to run the DFAC had been fired for trying to use substandard food products. Awkward.

Toni finished up the last of her lemon poppyseed pound cake - delicious!
-- and put on her kevlar and body armor. Double-checked her M6 for cleanliness and operational failure due to the dust. She clicked on her Land Warriors and saw a message from the CO that the time of departure had moved up by five minutes.

“All right Weber, it’s time to roll,”
she said. Barbie doll looked like she was still recovering from the long flight and from sleeping on the tent floor. Well, she did have a woobie at least. “Today we’re heading to the Nigerian border to provide escort for a convoy of construction materials to Maradi. Then we’re picking up a Shale VIP who’s flying in to Maradi and taking him to one of the mining camps. Taking the ground vehicles since the wind's too bad for the helicopters so it'll be a long day. But you should get some stuff to write about.”
Pretty much everything was calm on the Nigerian side. The government seemed to really want to get this pipeline built and was taking security seriously. But things really started to break down on this side of the border. Along the way they’d have the opportunity to inspect the completed sections pipeline from the border to Maradi. “Be sure to give your boots a good shake before you put them on.”



Edited by Toni Perez, Sep 19 2016, 12:18 AM.

**Breaking News**

Larson Lir', a fishing and merchant tycoon, released information and a video of an "unknown" monster that attacked the families defensive ship "The Rage". Captain SynJyn Quick, leader of the elite Viking's aired this report.

"Attention all vessels, this is Defensive Ship "The Rage" at 1400 Zulu we encountered a destroyed passenger vessel located at -34.086 x 171.997. Upon attempted rescue efforts we encounter a previous unknown beast that was capable of swallowing lifeboats whole. Video attachments are available of the encounter. Consider all ship traffic in this area extremely dangerous."


(The briefing was followed by several security camera feeds showing the monster swallowing the lifeboat whole, the Vikings taking up defensive position followed by several shots of the monster from different angles)

While some experts are already claiming this is a elaborate hoax, others are not so sure. Our own oceanologist has this to say: "This is not the first such report, it is the first with such conclusive evidence. Add this to the mystery of the discovery of several dead and half eaten giant squid and it is hard to say this is a hoax."
Larson Lir' had this to say in response to the critics: "I no be giving a damn what they think, the warning stand, believe or not, is no me concern. The Lir' family gets no profit from such a tale, so the critics can bugger off."


So there you have it, believe or not, i'd avoid surfing in that area for awhile.

Janet Danes reporting

The pointed questions directed towards Evelyn were infuriating, to say the least. Using Maddie's corpse as a way to get at him, Nicholas wanted to do more than just slap the woman. But still, it wouldn't do to get angry. He gulped down the last of his drink, hoping it would be enough to help maintain civility when he sent the message.

It sounds like you had some questions about my character. Why go to the trouble of finding those answers second hand when you can have them from the source? Have your staff contact mine, and I'll get you an interview. It'll be interesting, won't it Gwen? With me on the show, maybe your views will come within shooting distance of mine from before I went to Washington.

- Secretary Nolan Trace, Department of Powers


He pressed send; civility be damned.

CNN Instant News

<big>***BREAKING***

Evelyn Avalon Tells All
In an Exclusive CNN Instant News Interview</big>


GWEN: Good evening, and hello America! You’re watching CNN Instant News. Where We Make News First. I’m, as always, Gwendolyn Petersen.

Tonight. They’re calling her America’s Wonder Witch. From the backwaters of South Dakota, catapulted to the national spotlight with her address to the Joint Session of Congress. A magic user, channeler, this stunning and brave junior congresswoman. Evelyn Avalon. And we’ve got her here. In the flesh. First, exclusive, live. You will never forgive yourself if you don’t watch this interview! Stay tuned through this message from our sponsors.



*Commercial Break*



GWEN: And we’re back in the studio.
(turns to Evelyn sitting across from her anchor desk.) Hello Miss Avalon and welcome, thanks for joining us today.



EVELYN: I’m glad to be here Gwendolyn. Thank you for having me!



GWEN: You can call me Gwen.

(Flashes a toothy grin) You've been making some waves recently, haven't you? A popular Vlog, winning a House seat, and now you're revealing yourself to be a channeler. What must that be like for you?



EVELYN: Well this whole experience has been a whirlwind for me. Running for Congress and getting elected was more than I’d ever dreamed of, but I did it to try to make a difference. As I’ve said during and after my campaign, I ran for office because I wanted to try to use my platform to advocate for those whose voices are too often silenced. Being an advocate for fellow channelers is an extension of that. I have an obligation to my constituency and to my country to speak out for what’s right, no matter the personal consequences to me.



GWEN: What do you consider a “difference?” Lots of people say they want to make a difference. Tell me what drove you to take that next step.



EVELYN: Ever since I was a girl, I’ve felt compelled between the conflict between the CCD and America. It’s a fascinating topic historically speaking, whether it was the Soviet Union, Russia, ASD, or CCD, our countries have been at odds for the better part of the last century. It always terrified me to think about how close our countries came to causing global calamity during that time, as well. That drove me to want to find a better solution to our differences than through conflict: armed wars, cold wars, hacking wars, etc. When I was young, I always found myself hoping that someone would step up who could help us make a peaceful future. Eventually I starting asking myself why I was waiting for someone else to take the reins?



GWEN: Diplomacy to stave off disaster, then. Making sure people kept the back channels open and the like?



EVELYN: Yes, precisely. I’ve made no secret that I think that through diplomacy we can overcome our differences. That’s been the driving force of my whole career.



GWEN: Fascinating. And what do you think their endgame is? What does peace look like to them? For that matter, what does peace look like to you?



EVELYN: For all his faults, Nikolai Brandon has never taken control of a country through warfare. Therefore I have to believe that his ultimate goal is peace and order, or at least I hope so. I think that to the CCD peace looks like a place where its citizens can raise their children without fear of war or global catastrophe; that’s certainly what peace looks like to me.




GWEN: (puts a finger to her temple) Would you consider yourself an admirer of Nikolai Brandon? Because it sounds like you agree with his methods and goals. Do you think maybe the United States be more receptive to him?



EVELYN: Do I admire Nikolai Brandon…

(pauses for a moment and taps her index finger against the armrest) I’ve said multiple times that I cannot more strongly condemn the many humanitarian violations the CCD is accused of, and I’m very concerned with the lack of democracy and transparency in Brandon’s reign. However, it cannot be denied that the standard of living for the average citizen of the CCD has become quite high during his tenure. I would never suggest that the United States go so far as to join the CCD, but as fellow world powers, we have a responsibility to cooperate productively. The world cannot afford for us to fight each other, not while many parts of the world like South America and Africa are still reeling from the many disasters of the 2020s, and 30s. I would go so far as to say that the US’s relationship with CCD is the most vital issue of our time, even more so than the emergence of channelers.



GWEN: Let’s change gears a minute. The Power. When did it start with you? Did you always know? How did you cope when you found out?



EVELYN: My abilities with the Power arose similarly to other accounts I’ve heard. It began with the Sickness. Personally, I contracted the Sickness when I was fifteen. I’m not sure what it was that made me survive; perhaps it was luck or genetics. But regardless, after I recovered from my illness, I discovered that I had the capacity to do incredible things. Maybe if I’d been older it would’ve been scary, but my abilities didn’t manifest themselves in the terrifying displays we’ve seen on TV. Rather, it was minor, like being able to move small objects from a distance. As a teenager, it felt quite adventurous and exciting.




GWEN: Exciting? Oh, do tell. What’s it feel like?



EVELYN: Channeling the power…

(appears to suddenly be out of breath) It’s like nothing that I could possibly describe. It’s as if my veins are filled with fire, but it doesn’t hurt. All of my senses are heightened. I can see colors more vibrantly, as if the world was in black and white beforehand.




GWEN: Wow. That sounds better than chocolate. What can you….what can you do with it? What limits are there? Are there any?



EVELYN: The effects, at least for me, seem to be limited to the physical. In some ways, it almost seems…
(taps fingers) elemental. I can make fire appear without a lighter, or cause the earth to shake. There are most certainly limits though. At times, it seems like I’m drawing too much on the power, and I hesitate to imagine the consequences of using too much. It seems like a muscle, almost. I can do more and use more power than I could’ve a decade ago, for example, but there were also diminishing returns. It seems as though I’ve reached a plateau in my strength, or that I’m close to one anyway. So if other channelers are like me, I doubt that our abilities are infinite. Maybe our physics play by different rules than everyone else, but there are definitely still rules.



GWEN: It must have been very helpful to your early career. Tell me about that. How did your magic abilities help you become who you are today?



EVELYN: All my life I’ve always felt that it was important to speak out for those in need, those less fortunate or powerful than me. Developing the ability to channel only reinforced that urge. However, it seemed that I was able to make more of a difference through words – through my Vlog and later my position in Congress – than by any presumptuous displays of raw power. I firmly believe that the pen is mightier than the sword, and I hope that we can resolve any conflicts that arise peacefully and through discourse. The ability to channel is indeed an incredible power, but not one that helped my political career at all. My success in the political arena has come about solely due to the support of my constituency, and - I believe - my honest convictions for using the political process to better the lives of everyday Americans.




GWEN: The new Secretary of Powers mentioned you as an old friend of yours. Care to tell me more?




EVELYN: It’s no secret that the Secretary hails from my home district. However, what’s less well known is that we actually grew up together. His younger sister, Madelyn, was my best friend growing up. We were quite a few years younger than Nick, so we weren’t exactly close, but the two of us have known each other since childhood. Actually…

(Evelyn hesitates, placing her hands on the desk and leaning in towards Gwendolyn) ...I probably shouldn’t admit this, but Secretary Trano actually mixed me my first alcoholic beverage. I may or may not have been legally allowed to drink at the time.



GWEN: (Eyes narrow) Come on now. May or may not have been? Isn’t he eight years your senior? That sounds like a felony to me. Maybe several.



EVELYN: (Mouth open) Of course I can’t be sure that-



GWEN: (winking) I’m just playing. You don’t have to kiss and tell. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do, Am-i-rite?



EVELYN: (laughs nervously) Trust me, there was absolutely no kissing involved. “Best friend’s older brother” was never a trope that I subscribed to.



GWEN: Of course.

(leans in, eyes soften) Now about Madelyn...



EVELYN: Maddie and I were inseparable… at least, until she also developed the Sickness. Unlike myself and the Secretary, she didn’t survive it. Nick and I really only knew each other through her, and after she passed away we drifted apart. After that, we really didn’t speak again until my career brought me to DC.



GWEN: (nods softly) Nicholas Trano hasn’t spoken about Maddie at all for pretty much his entire career running Vulpesnet. Why do you think that is?



EVELYN: Like I said, Nick and I didn’t speak much after she passed away, so I can only speculate. However, I know how hard it was for me to talk about her afterwards. Losing someone you love… it’s like a part of you dies with them, and everyone grieves in different ways.



GWEN: So why should America trust that Secretary Trano is going to be capable of actually taking on this task?



EVELYN: (Sniffs) I have full faith in Secretary Trano’s ability to effectively protect the rights of channelers and non-channelers alike during this transition period. Of course, we also need our citizens to have patience and compassion. This isn’t going to be an easy time for anyone, but it will be immeasurably better if we all do our best to cooperate with one another.




GWEN: … It sounds like he has some secrets. I mean, you’ve touched on a couple of them here, haven’t you?



EVELYN: (taps fingers against the armrest) I assure you that the only secrets of Secretary Trano’s that I’m privy to are of the childish variety. I could tell you what kind of embarrassing boxers he wore as a kid on Saturday mornings, for example.




GWEN: (blinks) Right.

(Turns away and silently mouths “EDIT” off stage, then turns back and gives Evelyn a smile) So. How do you think America is going to react to the existence of channelers?



EVELYN: I have confidence in the goodness of the American people. As I said, this is going to be a difficult time for us all, but America has an incredible history of accepting so many different cultures and people within its melting pot. Channelers will just be one more group that adds to the texture of this great country. While there may be rough spots, we’ve seen time and time again that we’re much stronger together.




GWEN: (coughs at her last statement) Excuse me.

(Takes a sip of water) Anyway. You talk about discrimination and fear of discrimination. Tell me about that. Have you experienced this or seen this happen?



EVELYN: Well, because the issue of channelers is so new, I don’t think I’ve personally seen any instances of it. However, as a woman, I know how difficult ingrained prejudices can be. That’s why I don’t want any of my fellow channelers to have to worry about being treated differently due to their abilities. I hope that I can continue answering ‘no’ to this question over the next few months, and I’ll work my hardest to ensure that every American citizen is safe and enjoys the rights afforded to all of us.




GWEN: Now, about your own party. How do your personal experiences align with the goals and platform of the Democrats when they are confronted with this issue?



EVELYN: There is no platform or plank of our Party that references channelers. However, there is a plank dedicated to protecting minority groups from discrimination. For decades the Democrats have been the party of progress and social justice. Turning against channelers would be contrary to the mission of the modern Democratic Party, and I have every confidence that by the time we have our next Convention in 2048, protecting the rights of channeling minorities will be officially adopted as a core tenant of our party.




GWEN: And your leadership as well. Speaker Holden. Was he surprised you spoke?



EVELYN: Speaker Holden has been incredibly supportive of me and my political career over the past year and a half. I’m very grateful to all of the personal and professional assistance he’s given me.



GWEN: Come on now. Why’s he put you into such an influential position? Did he know about this?



EVELYN: No, of course not.

(taps her fingers) Until Mr. Brandon came forward with his abilities, I had no idea that I wasn’t the only person like me. It was a secret that I kept very close to the chest. I can only assume that Speaker Holden gave me so much responsibility because he saw potential in me as a politician, and that he appreciated my ability to convey our positions to our voters in a direct and honest manner through my Vlog.



GWEN: What do you think about the Speaker’s abilities to work with President Dawson? He hasn’t been thought of as Dawson’s biggest fan. Can they achieve bipartisanship where Channelers are concerned?



EVELYN: The two of them are very accomplished politicians and statesmen. I certainly hope that they can put whatever political differences they may have aside for the good of our country. America needs confident and compassionate leadership right now, and we can’t afford to squabble about semantics like children. Everyone - channeler and non-channeler alike - deserves to have full confidence that their government will protect them.



GWEN: One more thing. You got to show us something. You know. For the audience.



EVELYN:Hm…

(finger tapping) I didn’t want to make a display of power, because I believe that progress is made through diplomacy and discourse, but…




GWEN: Come on. For America.



EVELYN: (she grins at Gwen)... I can tell that you won’t let me leave without something. Excuse me, it takes me a moment to concentrate.

(Pauses and bows her head)

This is one of my favorite tricks.



(Evelyn cups her hands together, and when she opens them, a single fluttering light appears, kind of like a firefly. It floats through the air between them like a bubble, before splitting off into two lights, slightly different colors. Eventually, more and more lights form, flickering in and out of existence like fireflies, each a slightly different shade of blue-white. Then, slowly they begin going out.)

EVELYN: How was that?

(a small smile blossoms on her face)

GWEN: (blinks, seems disoriented) I...I think this will be talked about for quite some time. Miss Avalon, thank you for being such a fantastic guest here at CNN Instant News. America, you saw it here first. Congresswoman Evelyn Avalon, Channeler Extraordinaire.

Word had gotten around that Martin Borovsky had died. Atharim died everyday - it was nothing new. No ceremony, not pomp and circumstance, just the sense of loss permeated the building. Jance had been Martin's secretary for over 20 years. Personal Assistant she called herself, but she was just a glorified secretary. Before every mission Martin always handed her letters to distribute in the event that he died. It was the first time she'd had to deliver them. One went into the post for Dorian Vega. It was a new name on the list, but Vega had worked with Martin for many years, so it hadn't surprised her when she dropped the letter in the post box to go out. Vega hadn't been seen since before the Annoucement that Ascendnancy had been made - which wasn't out of the ordinary, but it made giving him the letter personally very difficult.

The second letter was to the American Cross he'd been working with in his new position as Metatron. Jance had no idea what the letter might contain, but it was delivered to the woman in the gym without any ceremony. Jance hadn't even stayed around to watch the woman read the letter. It hadn't mattered to her. Jance would find a new employer with in the Atharim - she always did.

The last and final letter was to that of the Regus. It was always address to Armande personally, but this time, it was addressed. "To the Current Regus" As if he too might not return from the mission. Martin had been prepared for the eventuality that they could all die, and it was with a heavy heart that Jance delivered the letter to the Regus. She left the letter with the secretary and walked away. It was only then that Jance let the tears fall - a good man had fallen never to walk the halls of the Atharim again but he died a hero. Or at least that's how she'd remember him.

(( PMing the letters to those it was delivered... You can reveal it how you feel necessary ))

Continued from Into Erebus

And A new consulate

Sage hadn't been feeling well for the past few days - light fever and chills being the predominant symptom. His head hurt like a bitch but taking a walk seemed to clear his head. For days he walked up and down the river while he worked. He'd shipped Nox a brand new high end computer with an ultra processor and a holo graphics card any would be hacker would have loved to get their hands on. Nox wasn't a hacker, but he used the same software that he did to find information quickly. Software Sage had designed for his own purposes which he'd given to Nox's sister and she tweaked it for their own purposes. Whatever the twins did for a living put Sage's algorithms through their paces and with Aurora's help he'd designed a fast and efficient way for anyone to search the internet and other databases for exactly what they were looking for.

Sage had installed the latest software for Nox and sent it to Moscow for the man to use. His last gift for Aurora. He would miss the blonde hair blue eyes wanna-be-hacker. She was a smart girl. And he missed talking to her - she at least understood half of what he said where as her brother would just nod and smile but he listened anyway. He'd learned that since he started working with him a little closer.

But now Sage was running diagnostics on some other company's firmware trying to bust through their firewalls. It was a good paying job - he'd been hired in as a consultant. He did make money outside of the den. The fresh air helped the headaches, but the scenery along the river was getting hold. So Sage hoped the yellow line and rode it into the Capitol.

DC was just as good a place to walk and hack as Alexandria was. He'd done this more times than he could count. Take a bench and stare at the pigeons on the street while he worked. Today though he wanted to walk. The parks and tourist areas were packed on the spring day, but not nearly as much as when it became field trip season for the schools around the world. The Smithsonian was still a huge hit but Sage hadn't been there in ages.

Cracking someone's firewall wasn't as easy as the movies made it out to be. For Sage it looked easy because he never touched a keyboard. He wasn't even sure he could type the code efficiently as he wrote the sub routines that did his job. So much of his own software was formed as he thought without really much effort on his part. It was like speaking English to the processor and it understood. It wasn't that simple of course - Sage had designed the responses himself. Grim had taught him everything he needed to know about computers. And Sage had picked up more as he learned his own system.

The tech wasn't new - it wasn't the greatest, but it was all he had to work with. Though he had been finding it a bit sluggish recently. It was nano seconds slower than before but it was noticeable to Sage. Sage wandered around DC paying only half attention to where he was going and what was around him - most of his attention was turned inwards while he worked.

"Hey Hernandez. Did your mother ever tell you that you were a special snowflake?"
Toni asked the corporal strapped in next to her who was porting the stubby SAW-K, a great burly man with coal black skin and steely whites. He was going to have fun fishing himself out of the drink carrying all that ammo.

The RAH-72 Arapahoe crew chief got up from his seat and flung the doors open. The cold blast from the downdraft of the helicopter rotor blades hit her. She looked out over the landscape. Wasn't much to see at night. Silhouettes of trees along the far ridge. The helicopter was skirting the spur around the ridge so as to approach the lake undetected from the other side. "Two minutes to the drop zone, Sarge," the chief said.

She nodded, and turned back to the corporal. He was scowling at her. Or maybe trying not to blush, if that were possible. "She did call you her special snowflake, didn't she? I know she did."
Toni patted him on the helmet. "Get your bib inflated, Snowflake."


The corporal pulled a string at his neck, activating the inflation device. It would be sufficient for him to maintain buoyancy, which was particularly vital when jumping from a craft like the Arapahoe because they couldn't jump with a hard duck. There wasn't room for one inflated raft, let alone two. That meant precious moments to get the raft inflated. The pilot broke in over her comm link. "Sixty seconds. Slowing to 10 knots and six feet."

"Rodger, sir,"
she replied. "Chalk 3 standing by. Request helocast from 20 feet. Don't want to make it too easy."
Snowflake didn't look very happy about that.

"Affirmative. Fifteen seconds."
Toni released her straps as the helicopter buffeted a bit and climbed a few feet. The land gave way to water and she could see the ripples from the rotor as they pushed out. This was the most dangerous part of the insertion, because they would be exposed for nearly half a minute while jumping.

"Go! Ducks in the water!"
she yelled, instructing her squad to exit. They pushed out, two at a time, one out each door, jumping feet first into the dark water. As the squad leader she took the position of "chalk pusher" and got them moving. Within fifteen seconds all twelve bodies had jumped. Toni gave her regards to the crew chief, activated the night vision on her Land Warriors, and stepped out of the craft.

The free fall took over a second, and she smashed into the cold water with a wet smacking sound. There was a moment of disorientation as she went under, before her bib pulled her back up. She was carrying a full ruck and it tried to drag her down. They hadn't put on flippers, so it was useless to try kicking her way back up. Maybe 20 feet had been pushing it, but aw fuck it, why not? You had to train like you fought, so you can fight like you trained.

She broke the surface and looked behind her. The duckies had been inflated and were moving toward her. They were filling up fast as they zipped by just slow enough for the Rangers to grab onto a side and pull themselves in. Toni always struggled with this part. That's why she was carrying the heavy ruck. As the craft neared her, she grabbed hold of the rope with her left hand, swung her M6 into the craft with the right, and used both hands to pull herself out of the drink. Grunting, she pulled her legs out of the water and over the side. Two hands grabbed her ruck and dragged her over.

Toni looked up. "Thanks for the assist, Snowflake," she said. She took the magazine out of her weapon and cycled it. All good. She slammed the magazine back in and loaded a round. With her Land Warriors she signaled to the other craft with an IR beam and painted the shoreline. They cut through the water. The lake wasn't large, but the point of the helocast was to practice the insertion technique.

They reached the shoreline and dragged the ducks into the tree line, stowing them out of sight. They wouldn't be able to use them to get out. Toni checked the map. The waterproof fold out map was obsolete with the advent of the Land Warriors, however it was important to not use the skill. Hell, at Camp Hoover her Warriors had been designed to fail. Every fucking time. Fucking cheaters. Okay. They would skirt around the ridge for about a mile and make a loop, and hopefully drop in behind the opposing force. "Scout team,"
she said, pulling her three-striper over to her. "Hoof it to the ridge line. Get eyes in the air and wait for orders. When we come around we'll see what we're looking at."
They'd probably execute a classic pincer move. They'd lay down a fire base on one side and sweep down on them from the other. The sergeant nodded and signaled his team to move. They'd deploy the MPRAQ-12 Cardinal, a handheld reconnaissance drone system that would give them a real time bird's eye view of the battlefield.

It took about fifteen minutes to make the long loop around the ridge. Toni had them move two at a time, expecting to make contact at any moment. The OPFOR was forever trying to find new ways to trip Blue Force up, even putting out deep patrols from their encampment. They swung around to an approximate 90 degree angle to the scout team. She sent the heavy weapons moving down the spur to the right and took the last four of her squad members down a narrow draw, making all too much noise with snapping twigs and dead leaves. She winced.

There were lights up ahead. Toni motioned for the squad to halt and they dropped to the prone position, taking up guard. She switched her Land Warriors on. Okay. The drones were in the air. And now she saw why they didn't bother to send deep patrols out. The camp was in the middle of a large clearing. The tree line was almost three hundred yards away from the first sentries. And they were heavily fortified. She counted three machine gun emplacements just on this side, protected with heavy sandbag cover from mortars. Two Joint Strike Vehicles with light armor, one with a Mk19 grenade launcher and the other with a heavy anti-air battery. Plus an Electronic Countermeasures dome. That thing, when switched on, would attempt to overwhelm their frequencies and render their electronics incapable of communication. There appeared to be an entire platoon of personnel, if not more.

Aright. This was doable. "Get the bees out,"
she whispered. Toni dropped her ruck and ran up the spur to her weapons team. Snowflake was unburdening his SAW-K and popped it up on the bi-pod. "See that ECM dome? On my mark, hit it with the AT4 and lay down suppressive fire."
He nodded, and patted one of his soldiers on the arm, who prepared the rocket tube. A shaped charge of molten copper fired at hypersonic speed would knock out a dome just as well as a tank.

She crawled back down the slope. The squad members she'd left behind had unloaded several long, thin cases from their rucksacks, clearly marked in blue lettering "TRAINING ONLY." They popped them open in a line. Inside, cradled in individual protective foam beds, were dozens of little tiny drones, each one smaller than her palm. Extraordinarily inexpensive and easy to replace. The MAQ-4 Lethal Autonomous Weapons System. Also known as the Killerbee. They hypothetically had a range of about 40 miles. Each one was capable of firing three tiny shaped charges with pinpoint precision. This squad was only packing a couple hundred of them, and she'd wondered why they were told to carry them at all on this mission. Until now.

The LAWS came with a handheld touchscreen, though it wasn't required to use. She could operate it with her Land Warriors or even halfway across the world, with the right signal. But the closer you were to it, the less likely a jamming system could overwhelm the signal. They packed advance electronic counter-countermeasures including frequency modulation and encryption, and each device kept in contact with all the others. However a powerful enough transmitter could render them unable to communicate with each other for a short period of time. Likely a much more powerful jammer than the OPFOR carried. Best be safe, however.

Toni switched on the touchscreens. The tiny drones came to life, beating miniscule wings just like real insects. They rose up, one by one, until they'd formed into an undulating swarm of mechanical insects, dispersing into the trees. They silently dispersed across the target zone. Radar wouldn't pick them up. If it was tuned that sensitive, it would pick up every insect out here in the Georgia hills. Toni set the LAWS to targeting mode with manual kill trigger required. The entire system could automate. With her overview fed to her by a conglomerate of the things' cameras, she began to see targets light up in red, indicating that one of the Killerbees, or many, had a bead on the target. Pretty soon every identifiable soldier was lit up. And the weapons systems. And the vehicles.

Toni sent a digital message out to the squad over the local link. "Await my mark. Do not leave cover."


The drones started to descend upon the camp, fluttering down like little silent snowflakes. Silent snowflakes of death.

"Mark."


The AT4 made a popping sound. Her Land Warriors picked up the sudden IR flag on the target. Obviously they couldn't use a real rocket. The ECM dome was flagged now as "destroyed." The squad opened up fire, weapons blazing in a line. Her ears filled with the sharp crackling sounds and her vision clouded with flashes of fire. They were firing out blue chalk rounds and probably giving the emplacements a good dusting, but probably not causing much of an impact. It stung when you got hit with one, though. Especially since they weren't wearing power armor for this exercise.

Toni only let the suppressive fire go on for two seconds before she pulled the trigger on the swarm. A moment later came a sound like a thousand loose pennies hitting a coffee table. This almost takes the fun out of it.
Targets neutralized.

"God-Fucking-Damnit!" Toni could hear the cursing all the way out at the tree line.

Never mind. That made it worth it. "Hooah!"
she yelled back. "Haha! Is that you Johnson? You've just been punked by Blue Force, you little bitch!"


She motioned for the squad to close in and put the touchscreen back in its case. The bees would be returning to their cradles. But she wanted to see the look on that asshole's face herself.

And sure as shit, there he was, Staff Sergeant Johnson, the same sad sack of shit that he was back in Ranger School, at the second machine gun emplacement. There was a smudge of blue on the side of his face and another on the back of his helmet. He had his hands up in the air. "How does it feel to be dead, fucker?"
she smirked, tapping him in the chest.

He scowled. "I'd ask you how it felt to be a bitch, but you got to have feelings first. The face? Really?"

She shrugged. "It's not supposed to do that with the training rounds. Guess you got unlucky."
She patted him on the cheek. "Suck it up, you fucking snowflake. You want to live forever?"
Yeah, that suited Johnson much better than that other snowflake. Toni had carried his ass all the way through Ranger School. Damn blue falcon. He was much better on the OPFOR, cause then she could fuck with him so much more.

Her squad moved through the camp to search for "survivors," but there was hardly any point. The bees had done their job well.

"All right, squad,"
she called out, bringing them in. "Good job, squad. Take five. Hell, take ten. Then we round up the equipment and debrief. Smoke 'em if you got 'em."


Yeah, winning was a lot more fun than losing.