Chapter 17 – Off the Authority
The screen in the briefing room showed blue. Too much blue.
"Ocean," Dan muttered.
The technician zoomed in. Islands appeared—scattered, rough, uninviting.
"That's Mist Island," General Klipsch said. "Pacific Ocean. West of the Mariana Trench. Southeast of Japan. No shipping lanes. No civilian traffic."
Reeve frowned. "So… middle of nowhere."
"By design," Klipsch replied.
Dan leaned forward. "Then explain this."
Another screen lit up. Europe. Southern France highlighted. Old rail tunnels. Abandoned industrial zones.
Reeve stared. "France?"
Dan looked at Klipsch. "That's half the world away."
"The signatures are similar," Klipsch said. "Not identical. But close enough."
Dan shook his head. "That doesn't track. Mist Island was isolated. Surrounded by deep water. Nothing leaves unless it wants to."
Silence.
"So how do things from the Pacific show up in Western Europe?" Reeve asked.
No one answered.
Klipsch straightened. "Speculation won't help. The mission will proceed with Unit Seven."
Dan felt it coming. That familiar drop in his gut.
"And me?" he asked.
Klipsch didn't hesitate. "You won't be deploying."
Dan blinked. "Sir?"
"You heard me."
Dan laughed once. Sharp. "You called me in. Showed me the same distortion we saw on the island. And now you bench me?"
"Your record shows repeated deviation from protocol," Klipsch said.
"Protocol didn't save the cadets."
"Stand down," an officer snapped.
Dan ignored him. "I stayed because someone had to."
"And people still died," Klipsch replied. "Including Captain Morgan."
That landed.
Dan's jaw tightened. His hands clenched before he noticed.
"Don't use his name like that," he said quietly.
Klipsch leaned forward. "You're emotionally compromised."
"So I care too much," Dan said. "That's the problem?"
"You're unpredictable."
"I'm alive."
"This mission moves into civilian zones," Klipsch continued. "France. If you make the wrong call, people die on camera."
Dan swallowed. France.
"So you'll send people who freeze," he said.
"That's not your concern anymore."
A long pause.
Dan nodded slowly. "Understood."
He turned and walked out. No salute.
In the hallway, he stopped. Breathed in. Out. His hands were shaking.
Reeve caught up. "Dan—"
"They're wrong," Dan said. "And you know it."
Reeve didn't argue.
Outside, engines rumbled as units prepped for deployment.
"Mist Island was in the Pacific," Reeve said. "France makes no sense."
"It does if distance stopped mattering," Dan replied.
They stood there, watching.
"So what now?" Reeve asked.
Dan glanced back at the base offices. Dark windows. Security lights cycling.
"We don't wait," he said.
That night, the administrative floor was quiet.
Too quiet.
Dan slid an access card through the reader. Yellow. Then green.
"Still works," Reeve whispered.
"Cameras reset in three minutes," Dan said. "Move."
They walked like they belonged. No rush. No noise.
Reeve opened a drawer. "Active-field IDs."
Dan kept watch.
"Funny," Reeve murmured, pocketing them. "We always do the right thing the wrong way."
Dan snorted. "That's the job."
They replaced everything exactly as it was and slipped out.
As they reached the stairs, a faint pressure buzzed in Dan's head.
[System: Unauthorized action detected.]
He ignored it.
Outside, the air was cold.
"So," Reeve said, "where first?"
"France," Dan replied. "But off-record."
Reeve nodded. "Figures."
They walked a few steps before Dan stopped. His chest felt tight.
The fog. The screams. A cadet frozen in place as something fed on his fear.
Get it together.
[System: Mental resilience training initiating.]
The pressure eased. Thoughts sharpened.
Reeve noticed. "You just zone out?"
"Yeah," Dan said. "But I'm back."
A voice cut through the quiet.
"Still chasing ghosts, huh?"
They turned.
Reeve.
Older. Scar across his cheek. Same eyes.
"You're not supposed to be here," Dan said.
Reeve shrugged. "Neither are you."
Dan studied him. "You survived."
"Barely."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"So," Dan said, "we go over there and save some young lads from dying a horrid death."
He glanced at Reeve. "That's if you're up for another fight."
Reeve smirked. "Like I ever quit."
He paused. "That's what keeps you alive, after all."
Dan let out a short laugh. "Or gets you killed."
"Details."
They shared a quiet chuckle. Not relief. Just understanding.
Dan looked toward the road. Toward France. Toward whatever didn't care about distance anymore.
"Let's move," he said.