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509Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWHCURI9h2O
Sub Terra base was up in arms when Jessica and her friends raced out of the tent. The alarm and red lights pulled sleepless faces out of the barracks and into combat gear. The hustle inspired a tidal wave of tension under the loom of imminent danger, which could explain her quivering.
Seconds passed. The large hangar doors opened for the first time, much like how the rebels parted for Monarch. His calm gait contradicted their excitement, again. He was expecting something or someone specific.
At first, a rabid hiss snuck through the corrugated hangar doors. By the time they lifted and clicked, a low, mechanical roar spilled through, a roar that jumpstarted into an engine cacophony. Several sleek cars scurried into the base.
"No way," stammered Valerie.
Jessica darted. "Who are they?"
Too fast, the small convoy stopped in the middle of the path, nearly fumbling into the crates and gathered rebels.
"Hold fire!" said Monarch.
When the siren stopped, the foremost vehicle propped its front door and revealed a figure in dark metal. As he scurried from the passenger side to the backseat, the helmet visor grated up to reveal a tired complexion. "Help me!" he implored, lifting a bloodied man from the Ultrasuede.
A few guards hurried to assist, but in carrying the passenger away they created a blood trail.
"Medic!"
Personnel in white flexed open a stretcher on their way to the convoy. Meanwhile, the other car doors burst open. An arm in a broken gauntlet, streaked and stained with blood, reached over the window. The man to whom it belonged had a modern carbine on his back, and as he stood up, he forcefully removed his helmet for no other reason than to toss it aside. Jessica beamed for recognition—something about his brown eyes and rugged jawline. He reminded her of someone. He turned toward the direction of a shout.
"It was a shit show of a mission!"
"Calm down!" he barked.
Monarch stopped within a few feet of the familiar man. "What happened, Raptor?"
"Trouble at the extraction."
"Were you followed?"
"I don't think so. That's the only good news I have. "
Jessica and Shannon stared at Valerie for any clue as to what was unfolding. Valerie hesitated. "I think this team was supposed to find the people who have us the chip, Jess. But, I don't see anyone else... I don't see a courier." Several of the armed newcomers walked right past them.
The paramilitary crew was dirty, beaten, and utterly demoralized. No energy, defeat engraved on their faces, they sank the spirits of everyone nearby.
"Once again, we got nothing done!" a voice shouted, that same irritated voice. Jessica peered back, searching for the complainer. Simultaneously, Raptor retorted.
"It wasn't for nothing, Ike!"
The operative known as Ike turned to another squad member who was stepping out of the next driver's seat, then grabbed him by his hard bevor and shoved him against the door. "You pull that shit you pulled, again, you're not making it back from the next op!" he spat. Everyone else stared in disapproval.
As if there isn't enough tension.
Raptor quickly wretched Ike off the other squad member. "Take five!" he exclaimed. "Actually, take the rest of the morning to cool off!"
Ike ambled with wide-set shoulders as tense as his behavior, and brown eyes with vestiges of red. He joined the rest of the fireteam in their retirement to the barracks, allowing everyone else to breathe easy.
"Morning?" Jessica muttered. She checked her watch. It wasn't even 6:00 yet.
"If I had a butter knife, I could probably cut all this tension," said Shannon.
Raptor and the mysterious squad member continued their chatter in the distance. Chipperly, Raptor slapped him on the back before returning to Monarch's side. Left alone, the mystery man dared to remove his helmet. Jessica recognized him immediately.
He was younger than Raptor but shared his facial features. Boyish dark hair twisted around a widow's peak, over brown eyes beleaguered by exhaustion and a light face on the fringe of bronze. His disposition was reserved.
Dexter.
Jessica second-guessed the next probable scenario in her head until she noticed that he noticed her. His brown eyes beamed a look of surprise that darkened his suave features. It couldn't be a coincidence that he noticed her, and she noticed him; they noticed each other, and so he probably figured out that she noticed him—why it would be suspicious if she pretended to not notice his noticing of her.
"Dexter!" she called. "What the hell?"
"Jessica?" he called back in disbelief. "Holy crap, it is you. What the hell you!" He stepped forward just as she did, away from bad air.
In a pattern of events that made no sense, her old friend stood right in front of her. But instead of the high school uniform, he wore armor. The sight was jarring since she never forgot his timid nature. Her brain cranked upside down and around, trying to understand this chance encounter. A familiar face made for one redeemable, nostalgic instant.
Valerie stepped close, pointing at Dexter. "You know this weird fuck? What am I say—Of course, you do."
"We went to the same high school," Jess replied, glaring. "How do you know him?"
"His brother's the one who spilled the frijoles about this place."
"From that story you told?"
Valerie pointed in Raptor and Monarch's direction. "That's him."
"Oh."
"How do you know him?"
Jess glanced at Dexter. "We were outcasts in high school. It's a long story. Long story short: high school sucks."
"Yea, she was as big a reject as me. Only smart," Dexter mused. "But, she thought she was funny."
Jessica punched his arm. "Hey, fuck you."
Valerie rolled her eyes between them. "I'm going to get a briefing from someone else while y'all catch up."
Her departure left an awkward silence.
Jessica opened her mouth but no words came out, and she had no explanation for this phenomenon. Instead, she wobbled timidly with hands folded behind her back. Back and forth, she subtly rocked, mildly dismayed by Dexter's parallel inability to speak. His characteristically timid nature remained intact; he kept shifting his eyes between her and the floor. Just like that, both were asocially linked. The silence eventually gnawed at her patience.
Say something, you bastard.
"I would ask what you've been up to," she started in a low tone of voice, "but apparently, you've been associating with underground resistance movements."
"Well now that that's established, what have you been up to?" he replied.
"Long story."
"Lame. Normally, I'd listen to the whole thing. "
"I know you would, Dex."
"Oh, here, I go by Darkstar."
"Darkstar," she said aloud, eyes rolling up. "Dexter. Darkstar?"
Dexter pursed his lips.
"It could be lamer," she said.
"But seriously, what are you doing here?"
As soon as Jessica opened her mouth, she turned somber and pale. Nothing she could say or do would prolong their innocent reunion.
"Darkstar!" Alas, a random voice ruined the moment. Raptor approached, wearing a stern expression several feet away. "We're Oscar Mike," he said. "You need to change into civilian clothing and stand by."
Dex nodded at Raptor, but Jessica caught the shroud of disappointment on his face. To make their conversation all the more fleeting, Raptor stayed until Dexter followed through. Thus, her old friend began a half-hearted march to the barracks, but not before turning back.
"Keep your head, Jess. I don't know where we're going."
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