Office of the President, Megalodon City, Tundra, Standard Year 404 after founding

  Major Ray Miller sat stiffly in one of the two luxurious armchairs across from the President and recounted the latest events of the day to the best of his ability.

  “And then Hodgins said she was trying to protect him?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.”

  Jim Hawk nodded. The battle had begun and by any objective measure, it was not going well. He was not foolish enough to underestimate an opponent. Lieutenant Alanna Summers had proven herself to be a worthy one. Had she chosen either of the options offered, her worth to his son would have been diminished. It would have been enough. Given the danger she posed, he would have killed her within the hour. But she had looked beyond the limited opportunities he had provided her and chosen something else. Worse, she seemed to have won the loyalty of at least one of the guards. Of course, this was not entirely unexpected. His son’s head would not be easily turned. And in the end, nothing had changed. He was an old man and when he was no longer able to rule, Tundra would need James Hawk. He would not permit a passing fancy to ruin his son’s chances at the presidency. Just as he would not permit this passing fancy to place Tundra’s entire future at risk. Failure, was not an option. “What is your read on the situation, Major?”

  Major Ray Miller froze. This was the moment he had been dreading, the moment he prayed wouldn’t come at all. He had rehearsed his response in his head, frantically attempting a dozen variations. None felt right. There was no good way to be the bearer of this bad news. No good way to pass on the truth that the President of their planet did not want to hear. “The lieutenant – is well protected.” He said instead, fully realizing the inadequacy of his response.

  “I see.” Jim Hawk responded calmly. “Was there anything else?”

  The major opened his mouth, as if about to say more. He closed his mouth. There was nothing to say. There was nothing he had to say that the President would want to hear. “No, Mr. President.” He said quietly. “Nothing else.”

  Jim Hawk continued to sit across from him, letting the silence stretch out. Giving him every opportunity to say more. Major Ray Miller swallowed nervously into the silence.

  “Vey well.” Jim Hawk said politely, as it became clear that no additional input was forthcoming. “Thank you for your time, Major.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  The major walked out, knowing his career was as good as dead. But then, at least it was only his career. Tonight, he would go home to his wife and children. It was enough.

  ---

  Jim Hawk watched the major’s retreating back, his face a blank mask of politeness, until the door to his office had been closed and securely shut. In the privacy of his own office, he allowed himself the luxury of drumming his fingers on his desk. He knew when a battle plan wasn’t going well. But then, they didn’t, and could not, all go well. Sometimes, there were necessary casualties. James would understand. In time.

  Plan B, to be launched in the eventuality Lieutenant Summers chose to decline the options presented to her, was already in motion. All he had to do was give the final order. And yet he sat, staring out at Megalodon City, covered by a blanket of snow and gleaming a soft lavender in the dim light of the setting sun. Millions of tiny lights from millions of windows gleamed like flames against the approaching darkness. Millions of people lived out their lives behind those windows. He started slightly at the vibration from the communicator on his wrist. “Yes, what is it?” He said curtly.

  “Mr. President, Commander Tony Sicaro is here for you.”

  Once again, Jim Hawk paused.

  “Mr. President?” His secretary repeated, puzzled.

  “Let him in.”

  ---

  Megalodon City Penitentiary, Tundra, Standard Year 404 after founding

  “Urgent prison business?” Alanna hissed, watching Dev make his way back down the hallway. “You’re nuts, you know that? Completely, utterly nuts.”

  “It got the job done.” Dev said shortly.

  “Dev?”

  “It’s been a long day, Alanna. What is it?”

  “Can I have a knife?”

  “No.”

  “Can I have a gun?”

  “What? No!”

  Alanna drummed her fingers against the door of the cell. “Can I have a beer? In a glass bottle?”

  Dev raised an eyebrow. “Sure Alanna, we wouldn’t want you to rough it with canned beer.”

  “No.” Alanna agreed. “We would not. I have standards.”

  Dev rubbed his forehead tiredly. It had not been a good day. “And you’re going to give the bottle back when you’re done with the beer?”

  Alanna walked up to the cell door, leaning as close as she could to the barred window. “Dev, hear me out.” She repeated “I hate beer. And it takes me a really long time to finish a bottle. Sometimes, it takes days and days. Maybe I can keep the beer bottle. Just for a little while?”

  “Fine.” Dev said sourly. “Maybe you can stab someone in the ear with it. That’ll show ‘em.”

  “Simon’s got a big mouth.”

  “And you have no fighting skills to speak of.”

  “I am very good, with a gun.”

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  “I’ll tell you over beer.” Alanna said hopefully.

  A few minutes later, Dev returned with Phil and the puppy in tow, open beers in hand. Phil handed her one of the bottles. “Heard your asylum interview.” He said shortly.

  “I’m feeling some real optimism about my chances.” Alanna nodded, taking a gulp of her beer and wincing at the taste. Absent mindedly, she reached down and fed more cheese to the puppy.

  “Alanna!” Dev snapped in exasperation.

  “Sorry. I’m done, I swear. Is it just me or has this little guy gotten bigger since the last time I saw him?”

  Dev looked down at the puppy as he spun in frantic circles in a desperate attempt to catch his own tail. Finally exhausted, Benji sat still, his uncooperative tail wagging just out of reach of his teeth. “Yeah. He’s a real powerhouse.” Dev drank his beer. “When do you think they’re coming?”

  “Only one way in?”

  “It’s a prison, Alanna.” Dev glanced down the hallway. There was only one way in. And it was through him. “We’re not known for our fire exits.”

  Alanna nodded. “The major said ‘you have to sleep sometime’. Either it’s a feint or they’re not coming tonight. My money’s on tomorrow night.”

  “Good. I’m going to get some sleep.” Dev said shortly. “Phil, the floor is yours.”

  Alanna eyed Phil doubtfully. “Why are you here?”

  “Awaiting your endless gratitude, why else?” Phil took a deep drink of his beer before continuing. “You still want your laptop charged?”

  “Yes, please.” Alanna handed him the computer and watched him walk off towards the breakroom, puppy in tow. She paced the length of her cell a few times before spilling out the rest of the beer and spinning the bottle in her hand. It had some weight to it, and surprisingly good balance. Sometimes it was best not to overthink things. In one smooth motion, she smashed the bottle against a corner of the sink. Not bad, Alanna thought, running her fingers along the jagged edges of the remaining glass. She spun the bottle again, getting accustomed to the new weight and balance of the tool. It would have to do.

  Phil came back a while later and handed the fully charged laptop back to her silently. Alanna thanked him and watched as he walked away. It was his second shift. The man was getting tired. They were all going to get tired, while the enemy had nothing but time. Waiting was hard. Rubbing her eyes, Alanna opened the laptop and returned to her book on Tundran history, continuing to read until the words Chapter 18: The Rise of Jim Hawk came up on the screen. “Oh for…” She slammed her laptop shut and picked up the beer bottle again, spinning it in her hand.

  ---

  The night was quiet. Alanna tossed on the makeshift bed, over and over. For some mad reason the bed felt empty and she couldn’t get James out of her head. Random phrases echoed in her mind. He is James Hawk. The expectations have never been reasonable. James Hawk is not for you… They’re not people… I don’t want Saraya to become a nuclear wasteland… Just stay alive, nothing else, whatever it takes… Eyes wide open, she sat up and leaned her back against the icy concrete wall. She hadn’t bothered to change for sleep, so she sat there in her best asylum interview clothes, jeans and the black sweater Clara selected for her. Alanna stared blankly at the door of her cell. All was quiet. Once again, she opened her laptop and stared at the screen. Pouring herself a mug of water from the sink without a second thought, she sat down to read about the rise of Jim Hawk as the thunder of another Tundran thunderstorm rumbled in the distance.

  Orphaned by the nuclear attack on Dragon City at the age of nine, Jim Hawk rose to prominence based on his military record. Known for creative and unusual tactics, he was often at odds with his commanding officers but his track record of success remained unmatched.

  Idly, Alanna wondered just how ‘at odds’ he must have been for that bit to make its way into the history books.

  The youngest captain in Tundran military history…

  All two hundred years of it, Alanna thought with a snort.

  Jim Hawk passed his unique command style on to his crew, a testing ground of ‘the cheating round’ now incorporated into the Tundran planetwide war games competition.

  Ignoring the trepidation in the pit of her stomach, Alanna continued to read. For better or worse, she had gotten Dev and the rest of the guards into this mess and she would do her best to get them out of it. And that meant learning everything she could about President Hawk. The book on Tundran history had not bothered to soften the edges of their leader. Over and over again, he was portrayed as a brilliant and unapologetically ruthless military commander. Unlike many, he translated his skills of military command to civil service with great effectiveness. The Tundran economy, from food production to the mining and construction industries, thrived under his presidency. And he was credited with bringing Tundra to the very brink of victory, against a far more powerful opponent. Alanna sighed before shutting off the screen. Dev, disgusted as he was, had openly admitted he would be voting for Prsident Hawk in the next election. The Tundrans wanted to win. At any cost. Getting up, she went through her makeshift exercise routine, pleased to see that her strength was continuing to improve. And then she waited.

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  ---

  Dev stopped by later the next morning, blearily handing her a cup of coffee before pacing up and down the hallway. He didn’t seem to be in a mood to talk. For lunch, Alanna made herself a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tea, using up most of the remaining bread and cheese. She offered to make one for Dev as well, but he declined and returned to his pacing. The day dragged on. By the time nighttime approached, the tension in the air was reaching a breaking point. Her stomach churned and Alanna was starting to seriously regret eating at all. Benji was released to prowl the hallway at will and patrolled nervously, letting out piercing yips at the slightest sound as he responded to the overall mood on the cell block.

  The lights dimmed and still everything remained quiet, the only sound the soft thump of boots against the concrete floors. Simon had replaced Dev but Alanna knew Dev would be around. None of them seemed to go home at all. She sighed. A low rumble in the distance made her heart leap into her mouth until she recognized it as another one of Tundra’s thunderstorms. They came more often at night. Alanna stretched, trying to relax as the thick concrete walls closed in around her. It had been days since she’d seen daylight and she had no idea what a Tundran thunderstorm looked like. She could only vaguely recognize the sound. The night dragged on, silent except for the sound of pacing. Inspiring speeches were not her strength and so, like the rest of them, she remained quiet. Waiting.

  At some point, Alanna was shocked to realize the lights began brightening again. Exhausted, she thought about going to sleep but she couldn’t quite make it happen. The tension left her feeling grimy and she splashed water on her face, then quickly took off her clothes and rinsed off before changing. This time, she put on jeans, a thin black shirt and the oversized black sweater James had given her, taking what comfort she could as the thick, heavy weight of the sweater settled over her shoulders.

  A while later, Dev came with the coffee. He looked like hell.

  “It didn’t happen.” Alanna stated the obvious, accepting her cup gratefully.

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you think maybe…”

  “No.” Dev said shortly. “No, I do not. Everyone is going to stay on full alert. For as long as it takes.”

  Alanna nodded. President Hawk was waiting them out, knowing that by the time the attack came, none of them would be at their best. Apparently, he believed he had time. Which meant James wasn’t coming back any time soon. And try as she might, she could think of no way to avoid the inevitable exhaustion, her own and that of her team. They were trapped. She drank her coffee. “We sleep when we can and we do our best.” She said, knowing as she said it that all she did was unhelpfully state the obvious.

  “Yes.” Dev said shortly. He walked off, tension evident in every step. Lunch came and went. Everyone was eating ration bars. They were easier on the stomach and no one had the time or the initiative to cook. They waited. Dev continued to pace, starting to feel hypnotized by the sound of his own footsteps as the haze of exhaustion set in.

  When he heard the elevator doors open he paused in mid step, frozen by surprise. From his position at the far end of the hall, Dev wasn’t able to make out who was stepping off, only that there were two figures approaching. The puppy, noticing visitors, let out an excited yip and made a mad dash down the hall. Dev watched as they walked towards him, his hand automatically resting on his weapon. “Hi there.” He called out, letting his voice carry, making sure others on the floor heard his warning. He was surprised that the dog had not sounded a more thorough alarm, but as the two figures approached and he made them out more clearly, he began to understand.

  “Dev.” The warden of Megalodon City penitentiary nodded slightly in his direction, idly petting Benji on the head as he ran up, tail wagging. “You look like hell.” He noted, studying one of his best guards quizzically. “You can take your hand off that gun Dev, we’re all friends here.”

  “Been a long night, sir.” Dev said noncommittally, his eyes on the second man standing at the warden’s right hand.

  “I know you’ve been pulling some double shifts with Simon getting re-assigned.” The warden responded soothingly. “We all appreciate your efforts. And as it happens, we’ve brought you some help. Some very…” the warden cleared his throat “some very highly qualified help. Dev Hodgins, meet commander Tony Sicaro. He’s home on leave and has generously offered to help us out while we’re shorthanded.”

  “I’m just here to rest up from my last mission.” The man standing next to the warden said easily. “Thought a bit of down time would do me good. Happy to help out, sir.”

  Dev nodded, not quite succeeding in hiding the tension running through him.

  “Everything all right, Dev?” The warden asked, studying him closely.

  “Yes, sir.” He responded shortly, his eyes on the other man.

  “Very well then. If you need anything, feel free to stop by my office. Any time.” The warden nodded at both of them before turning around and heading back towards the elevator.

  Perfectly relaxed, commander Tony Sicaro leaned his back against a nearby wall, giving himself a peripheral view both up and down the hallway. “Pleasure to meet you, Dev.” He said easily. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  The space between Dev’s shoulders was itching as he stood facing the other man, his hand continuing to hover over his holstered gun. Did they really just send in one man? Was this a feint or was this the attack?

  The sound of the elevator doors closing echoed down the hallway. Tony Sicaro moved, drawing his gun in one smooth motion and shooting Dev in the stomach. Dev was fast, but not fast enough. His gun was drawn and pointed in Tony’s general direction as he dropped to the ground. Sensing danger, Tony Sicaro turned lightning fast, his back flattened against the wall to make the smallest possible target, and fired at the second man coming towards him from the other direction. He felt the slight numbness of a stun round going off in his general vicinity. The other guard had gotten close, but not close enough. At the other end of the hall, Simon crumpled to the ground.

  At a more leisurely pace, Tony took the old fashioned keys off Dev’s belt and approached the cell housing lieutenant Alanna Summers. The lieutenant was huddled in the very back of the cell, clutching the blanket over herself as if she thought it would offer some protection, a mask of helpless terror on her face. He winced. Do the job, he reminded himself. Based on her record, she barely passed her hand-to-hand combat courses. He didn’t expect much resistance, but commander Tony Sicaro didn’t get home alive by being arrogant. According to the file, Alanna Summers had also shown herself to be full of surprises. And she was known to be excellent with a gun. Turning around so that his holster was outside of her field of vision, he leaned down and checked Dev’s pulse, noting that it was steady and strong.

  He approached with caution, opening the cell door slowly and walking in with quiet deliberation. As Alanna expected, when he moved, he moved lightning fast. He was on top of her in an instant, one hand drawing the sleeping bag out of the way as his other hand moved to wrap around her neck. She let the force of his lunge propel him towards her as she struck out, jagged bottle aimed directly at his neck. His partial dodge was just in time, preventing her from piercing his jugular and taking the force of her strike on the side of his neck. Blood dripped down on her sleeve as Alanna struggled to breathe against the pressure of his hand around her neck. His other hand slammed her wrist down, leaving it numb, and forcing her to drop her only weapon. She heard the sound of the bottle rolling away from the force of his strike. His hand unwrapped from around her neck and she gasped in relief, only to see a silver gleam of handcuffs over her face in-between the black spots clouding her vision. Timing and strategy were out the window now. She struggled but without a weapon she was nearly helpless. The cold feel of steel wrapped around first one than the other of her wrists. Alanna screamed in real terror as he moved her hands and hooked the cuffs up to one of the metal hoops welded to the floor.

  His hands moved down to remove her clothes. Gulping back the terror and still recovering from oxygen deprivation, Alanna took a breath, steeling herself for what she knew she had to do. She had some experience with being handcuffed and it was possible to slip out of the cuffs. All you had to do was dislocate your own thumb. It would have to be her left hand. She needed, desperately needed, her right hand to function . She needed the gun. If she could only get his gun… there wasn’t much time left.

  A howl echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of claws scrambling over the concrete floor and a low growl as Benji ran up and dug his teeth with full force into Tony’s leg. Taking advantage of the distraction and kicking out with all her strength at the same time, Alanna pulled on her left arm, allowing the cuffs to scrape her skin as she dislocated her own thumb to free her hands. Her right arm was freed as well, with the cuffs still attached. One chance. She reached frantically for his holster. In that moment, Alanna wanted nothing more in life than to feel the grip of a gun under her fingers. It would be awkward but once she felt that metal… her fingers scrambled frantically, only to find leather and empty air. He must have removed the gun before entering her cell.

  Ignoring the panic threatening to suffocate her, Alanna struck out for his eyes with her left hand. He blocked her with his left arm, his right hand once again fastening around her neck. She wouldn’t have long before she passed out. Alanna’s right hand was still free and she reached across the sleeping bag, finally finding one of the forks she had dropped into the folds. This time she remembered her training. She didn’t go for the ear, she went straight of the eyes. The hand wrapped around her neck lifted her up, slamming her head against the concrete behind her. Everything went black.

  ---

  The door of Alanna’s cell stood wide open, the scene inside visible to anyone standing in the hallway. Tony Sicaro’s gun, removed from his holster as a precaution, lay in the hall. With a deep suffering sigh, Phil picked up the gun, confirmed that the setting was on stun, and shot the commander in the back, observing glumly as his body went limp. Prison guards were permitted to enforce order at their discretion. There were no specific rules on rape and a general attitude of looking the other way. It wasn’t the done thing to fire on a guard for raping a prisoner. To fire on a high ranking military officer and war hero like commander Tony Sicaro would be a career ending move, if not worse. However, there were very specific rules on killing prisoners without an order of execution. Phil was fully within his rights to shoot another guard to prevent an unscheduled death. With a wince of disgust, he dragged Tony Sicaro’s inert body, pants still undone, off the girl and activated the communicator on his wrist. With another enthusiastic growl, Benji renewed his efforts and sunk his teeth deeper into the man’s leg. Phil ignored him. “Can we please get a nurse on floor fourteen? I’ll get the gurney.”

  “Prisoner or guard?” A voice asked curtly.

  “Let’s call it a high value prisoner.” Phil said. “With potentially life threatening injuries.”

  “On my way.” A female voice came over the line, making him smile.

  “It’ll be good to have your help here, Lainey.”

  “Let’s see what mayhem you all have caused up there.” Lainey’s voice came back, and Phil rather liked to think he heard a returning smile in her voice.

  A few minutes later, Lainey walked briskly off the elevator, noting Phil at the end of the hall and heading directly for him. Her eyes widened as she went, noting Simon’s inert form lying in the middle of the hallway and Dev’s crumpled body further down. “What in the hell happened here?”

  “It would appear commander Tony Sicaro had a bit of an incident.” Phil said mildly, nodding in the direction of the body lying crumpled to the side of the cell. Benji had finally decided to let go of his chew toy and sat, tail wagging happily at the nurse. His fluffy gray snout was covered with blood.

  Lainey’s nose wrinkled in evident disgust. “He shot Dev and Simon?”

  “He did.”

  Lainey opened her mouth to ask more but lost her train of thought, focusing on the ‘high value’ prisoner. “What’s her name?” She asked.

  “Lieutenant Alanna Summers.”

  “The traitor?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Lainey nodded. She was disgusted but not entirely surprised. The lieutenant’s looks would unavoidably attract attention. When a man returned from the war with a chip on his shoulder, crazy things happened. Not that it justified shooting his fellow guards. That was truly taking it too far. Ignoring the new guard, she knelt beside the crumpled body of the lieutenant.

  “How was she injured?”

  “Well in a number of ways but she passed out after he smashed her head against the wall.” Phil said, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at his stomach. He wondered if he should have interfered sooner. “It happened fast. I also think she got hit with an overflow from the stun round.”

  “Was she passing out before she got hit with the stunner?”

  “I think so.” Phil nodded.

  Lainey forced an eyelid open, shining a light to test the response of the pupil. “The head injury is serious.” She said quietly. “Let’s get her down to the infirmary. Does she need to be cuffed, do you think?”

  Phil hesitated. “If there are going to be guns or sharp objects anywhere in the room then yeah, she needs to be cuffed. But Lainey, I’m telling you, we need to fix this girl. That’s the top priority. You get me?”

  “I get you.” Lainey nodded. “And I’ll do my best. We need to get her on the gurney while keeping her head as steady as we can. I’ll help you. Let’s go.”

  Very carefully, they lifted Alanna’s inert body onto the gurney. Lainey elevated her head slightly but there wasn’t much more she could do without additional medical equipment.

  “And the rest of them?” Phil asked.

  Lainey shrugged. “Three healthy men hit with stun rounds? I say leave ‘em to sort it out when they wake up.”

  “Sure, Sure. You go on ahead. I’ll be right there.” Phil waived her on before going back into the cell. Taking out a pair of his own cuffs, he rolled Tony Sicaro onto his stomach and pulled his arms behind his back, cuffing him none too gently. Leaving the pants as they were, he got up and followed Lainey down the hall.