"So this guy, Terry?" Jen asked.
"Turk." I corrected.
"Turk. You think his info's legit?"
"I do."
"Well if that's all true," Cuiran said, "then this whole situation might not be so bad after all."
"Mm-hmm" Kate agreed. "What do you think, tercero?"
Bran hadn't said a word since I finished recounting everything: Turk, the order, Rox. The fragments of truth I'd managed to claw together. The silence was very unlike him.
"Stretch," he started. I recognized the tone.
"I know," I cut in.
The tone became sharper. "Do you?"
I didn't respond, but I did. I knew exactly where he was going with this.
"To be honest I'm not sure you do," he said. "Let's break this down properly. First, you've got this… 'order.' An organization operating at that scale that has gone this long without detection? That alone could constitute a state wide emergency."
He pressed on.
"Then there's the drug. Or whatever the hell it is. We have no idea what we're dealing with. But if its effects are even half of what you described…Then we are in pretty deep shit here."
Everyone kept quiet as he spoke. We all knew it. We were all aware of the gravity of the matter. But hearing it laid out like that stripped away whatever denial we had left.
"Look… we're Class 1 Marshals. On a normal day, we wouldn't even be allowed to observe a case like this, let alone lead it. It's time to hand this over. We call the commander."
"No." I said.
Bran let out a sharp breath, frustration creeping in. "Come on. You still don't—"
"Don't just call the commander," I said, completing it. "Report everything to the CCA as well."
That stopped him.
"Are you sure?" Lydia asked.
I didn't answer immediately. Because no, I wasn't sure. But keeping this quiet was much too reckless, even for me.
Bran was right. We were already pushing past the limits of what we were meant to handle. The fact that we were still alive wasn't skill alone. Luck was part of it. A huge part.
None of the other Class 1 rookies could have made it this far. They would've been wiped out. Along with everyone else in the building.
"Yeah," I said finally. "I am."
"Kate, prepare the report. Full details on everything we know. Bran, you contact the commander directly. I'll follow up once we have more information." I got down from the table. "Any questions?"
"No," they answered in unison.
"Then wish us luck."
"Sytkrweatacthi. Czeslaw. Aldrich." Lydia didn't even wait for us to sit down before dropping it.
Mous looked at her in confusion. "Wait, what?"
Lydia pointed at me, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "His full government name."
Mous turned slowly toward me, eyes widening.
"Czeslaw?" she repeated. "Your first name wasn't enough?"
A cough slipped out of her, half-choked giggles following close behind. Lydia burst into laughter. Even Caitlin, who had been doing a decent job maintaining composure, pressed her lips together, failing to hide the smile tugging at them.
Mous wasn't finished. "What kind of name is Czeslaw? Where does that even come from? How do you even spell that?"
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. It was my fault. I should have known better than to let this get out.
My first name was already weird enough but it was Medean at least. Rare, sure, but it was traditional and had its history. My second name, however, was one of the few mysteries my mother left behind. I'd been able to trace its origins back to earth but that only left me with more questions.
I'd always just assumed that she lost a bet or something like that.
I let Lydia's laughter gradually die down on its own. Experience had taught me that engaging only made it worse. Eventually, they would let it go and with time, it would be forgotten. Hopefully.
"…okay," Lydia said after a moment, wiping at her eyes. "Okay, I'm done."
"Good," I said. "Can we focus on more important matters now?"
They nodded, settling down. Though the occasional grin lingered.
"Ms. Vance, Give us a quick breakdown of the sub-level floors."
"There are three basement levels," she began. "The first contains the main laboratories, including pharmacology, along with several small storage units."
I nodded for her to continue.
"The second level houses the safe room."
"And the third?"
"Control stations," she said. "Security systems, internal monitoring… most of the building's core operations run from there."
Three levels. Labs. Safe room. Control. If we stayed put, waited for the officers outside to breach the building, this would end simply. But I didn't like it. Time wasn't neutral here. Every second we gave them was a second to adapt, regroup, disappear. Or worse: to escalate. Just doing nothing wasn't exactly my style.
"The manual overrides for the defenses are on the last floor," I said, keeping my tone steady. "Correct?"
"Yeah."
"Then why don't I go over there and disable them."
Lydia protested immediately, arms folded tightly. "That's not happening. It hasn't even been an hour since you collapsed, and now you want to throw yourself into another fight?"
"But–"
"No." Mous didn't even let me finish. "She's right."
She wasn't looking at me as a superior. Not even as a teammate. She was looking at me as a patient.
"You can barely stand without support," she continued. "So how exactly do you plan to pull this off?"
I flexed my hand slowly, watching the tremor run through my fingers.
She didn't have to tell me what I already knew. Every part of my body felt… hollow. Like something had been drained out of me and replaced with static. My muscles responded, but sluggishly. My breathing was just a fraction too shallow. It was all off.
But it would hold. I just needed a little help.
"A stronger painkiller," I said, forcing my hand to calm "and a couple of epinephrine shots. That should be enough."
Mous stared at me like I'd just suggested jumping off the building.
"Enough?" she repeated. "Do you have any idea what that could do to you afterward?"
"It's going to be ok."
"No it's not, Stretch." Her voice hardened. "The rollback will be severe. Your body is already at its limit. Push it any further and you're not looking at just fatigue. You're looking at a complete shutdown. Days. Maybe longer."
I leaned closer. As a medic, Mous could reject my orders when it came to treatment. I had to convince her that this was worth doing.
"Mous." She turned away from me. I reached out and took her hand before she could pull away. "I have a bad feeling about this."
Turning her head slowly, her eyes met mine.
"I know waiting is the safer option," I continued, quieter now. "I know that. But you've seen how this has gone so far. Every time we think that's it, they have something else up their sleeve."
I tightened my grip slightly.
"Have my hunches ever been wrong?"
That did it. She exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from her shoulders.
"...No," she admitted.
She peeled off my hand.
"Fine," she said, reluctantly. "But don't pretend this is a good idea."
"It doesn't have to be," I replied. "It just has to work."
"Just try not to die," she muttered.
"I'll do my best."
Caitlin raised her hand to grab my attention. "You're forgetting one thing."
"Am I?" I raised an eyebrow.
"The only ones with the clearance for the override are still just me and the director."
Oh, shit. That's right.
"Well," I said, forcing a shrug, "then maybe I'll find the director while I'm down there."
"That's not a plan," Lydia said. "We have no idea what could have happened to him."
Mous tilted her head slightly.
"Why don't you just take her?" she said, pointing at Caitlin.
"That makes sense," Caitlin said quickly. "I should go with you."
"Absolutely not." I couldn't believe that she even considered that. "It's too risky."
"And what you're doing isn't?" Lydia shot back. "I think it's a good idea. Take her with you. She looks like she can handle herself."
"While I don't doubt that, she's still just a civilian. It wouldn't be right of us as marshals to put her life at risk."
"But it's my choice." Caitlin said before Lydia could respond. Her hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles pale, but her gaze didn't waver. "Today has been the worst day of my life."
We all looked at her.
"I watched people I've worked with for years get beaten. Killed." Her voice dipped slightly on the last word. "And I couldn't do anything. I just stood there. Watching."
Her jaw set.
"I'm done with that," she continued. "I'm done sitting around and hoping someone else fixes things."
She looked directly at me now. "If you're going down there, I'm coming with you. You're going to need access. And you're going to need help. If something happens to me, that's my responsibility. Not yours."
Lydia smiled at me. "Well, Cap… sounds like she's made up her mind. So what's it going to be?"
This was a terrible idea. It was far too dangerous for her and it would be very irresponsible of me to let her tag along. But… It seemed I had no choice.
"Fine," I raised my hands in defeat. "But you do not disobey my orders. And if things go bad, you run. Immediately. Is that clear?"
Her expression softened just a little as she gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."
The door to the first underground level creaked as I pushed it open.
I leaned slightly into the gap, listening. Nothing. Just the low, distant hum of machinery. I pushed the door open a little further and took in a deep breath. A mix of chemicals: solvents, reagents, something acidic enough to sting faintly at the back of my throat. A characteristic smell of laboratories.
So far nothing suggested human presence of any sort. I stepped inside. There was a wide space. Three doors lined each of the walls, all closed. The overhead lights flickered faintly, casting uneven shadows along the walls.
I reached out and quickly broke off the door handle on the other side with Lloyd and closed the door when I reentered the stairwell.
Caitlin glanced at the door, then back at me. "…That was excessive."
"Precaution," I replied.
You could never be too safe. I didn't want to have potential enemies at our backs in case we needed to retreat. Besides, the enemy could see us coming. We could very well be walking into a trap.
Caitlin followed close behind as we descended. I kept my pace slow, one hand trailing lightly along the rail. Each movement felt just a fraction off. The dull ache in my legs flared with every step, a quiet reminder that my body was running on borrowed time. My thoughts drifted briefly to the office we'd passed on the ground floor.
Turk.
I left him there. Alone and bound in darkness. I pushed the thought aside. One problem at a time.
We reached the second-level door. I placed my hand against it, preparing to push before Caitlin's fingers caught my elbow. I paused, turning slightly. She pointed at the door, then mouthed silently:
Safe room.
I know. I mouthed back.
"We should check it," she whispered. "There might be survivors."
Or bodies. She didn't say it. Didn't need to.
"Exactly what I had in mind." I replied quietly. "Stay close."
I eased the door open. The hinges gave a soft, reluctant creak as the gap widened. I leaned in slightly, letting my senses move ahead of me. No sign of anything out of the ordinary. I fully opened the door.
The space beyond was small. A transition area with clean, bare walls. But it wasn't untouched. There were faint scuff marks along the floor, subtle disturbances that hadn't been there by design.
A corridor opened to the right. I stepped inside. Caitlin followed, closing the door behind us with a click, then we moved toward the corridor. I slowed at the corner, leaning just enough to get a partial view.
Clear.
Just one door at the far end. It was large and looked reinforced. I gestured forward. Caitlin nodded and moved.
I stayed back, pressing myself against the wall, watching our rear. She was halfway down the corridor when something shifted.
A presence. No, presences.
Two people. Close. Right behind the stairwell door.
I straightened, waving sharply at Caitlin. Her head snapped toward me, eyes widening. I motioned quickly. Corner. Down. Now. She moved to the end of the hallway, dropping low against the wall, out of direct sight. I adjusted my stance, grip tightening around my weapons.
The dull numbness in my body deepened. The painkillers were once again doing more than I required them to. My limbs felt lighter than they should. Detached. Almost like they belonged to someone else. But the adrenaline cut through everything. It burned through the fog in my head, forcing clarity into my actions.
I took a few steps back from the entrance to the corridor, making sure I was out of view, then focused my senses. They weren't on rox. Their presence lacked that… distortion. That unnatural density I'd come to associate with it. This meant their abilities weren't boosted.
It didn't mean they weren't dangerous.
The door opened. They stepped in and closed the door behind them, their footsteps measured and cautious, stopping just inside.
"We aren't here to fight," a voice called out. Female. "Please do not attack us."
I didn't bother to respond. Didn't even shift my weight. They had to be stupid if they thought I would fall for such a lazy trick.
Seconds stretched and they made no attempt to advance. She tried again.
"We know you're here." A little firmer this time. "This isn't a trick. We just want to talk."
I narrowed my eyes slightly. No way I could trust them. But… There was something about her tone. A sort of resignation.
I exhaled quietly. Fine. Let's see how far they're willing to take this.
"If that's true," I said, voice carrying just enough to reach them, "then toss out your weapons."
A pause.
"…Is that really necessary?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, a smile tugging at my lips. "You can't possibly expect me to take your word for it. Show some sincerity."
"You don't need to worry about me." I added for good measure. "I'm a Marshal. I can't harm you if you're unarmed."
A blatant lie.
I listened closely. They whispered to each other. Low and urgent. A brief argument. There was a sigh of exasperation as one won out.
"Fine." she said.
And just as she said it, metal clattered against the floor.
Once. Twice. Three times.
An axe. Two daggers. Just… lying there. Right in front of me.
I simply stared. Stunned. Then I let out a slow breath.
Well, damn.
That… was not what I expected.