Miscalculations [Closed]
Owen’s lips pressed together in a sympathetic half-smile. “I’ll get ready here in a minute.” He watched Julianna disappear into the house before he grabbed the burner in expectation of another picture. What he saw rent through him.
Anita shrieking. Anita in pain. Little fingers contorted and snapped by larger hands. He had seen gorey things. He’d done gorey things. But he’d never had to watch the torture and maiming of his own child. Hands shook but Owen watched until the end of the video. A surge saliva warned of the vomit rising in his stomach. He pressed a trembling hand over his mouth and lurched from the breakfast nook table. He found himself outside in the backyard, knees in the spongy grass, cool air on clammy skin as he doubled over into the bushes. The sandwich he’d eaten on the lawn in half digested pieces. Jingles ran over and cheerfully jumped at Owen’s legs greeting him with that tongue-out smile in that way dogs do. Smiling when Anita’s fingers were broken. The dog turned and sniffed curiously at the mess.
“No!” Owen yelled at the dog and blindly shoved the animal away. “Get in the house!”
Jingles with tail half between her legs at the undeserved harsh tone slunk inside with Owen trailing her wiping at his mouth. He was gasping for air in panic and grabbed at the phone again.
He sunk back down into the booth at the breakfast nook and watched the video three more times forcing himself to look for clues. She was in kind of a holding cell and terrorized by scarred hands that clearly belonged to a man. That was all he could tell. Owen dropped the phone to the table and covered his face with his hands. Tears wet his palms and he let himself sob only once. One shoulders shaking gasping breath and that was it. One moment of weakness and his training took over.
Owen pushed himself from the table, pocketing the phone as he did so. He found a sink to wash out his mouth and splash cool water on his face. Little fingers in sickening shapes floated in his mind. Moving mechanically and numbly, Owen dressed himself in light urban tactical gear. A side arm strapped around his thigh and an automatic rifle slung over his back pointing to the floor. Admittedly much heavier arms than he’d originally decided to go with. Owen exchanged his cane for a custom knee brace that allowed him the stability he would need to maneuver as best as he could with the injured leg. Such a device hadn’t been enough to return him to combat status, but it would get the job done in a pinch.
> consequences
He sent the text message without watching the video again. He had promised there would be consequences for any deviations from his demands to leave Anita oblivious and unharmed. He sped-dialed Katanya.
“The Medevac is to arrive when we do. They’ve started torturing her. No point in preserving her innocence anymore. We’ll respond accordingly.” No emotion in his voice. ‘Accordingly’ was Owen’s way of informing Katanya that he wanted them all dead. Whoever they were. It would be their last night.
____
Cain had flopped on the bed on his belly and laid half hung over it, fingers trailing on the floor as he moped. He ruminated on his refusal to drive Anita home. I don’t want to always drive her, he had whined, am I allowed to have a life? Never mind that Cain had no life. He just liked cruising around, smoking, and blaring his music. Things he couldn't do if accompanied by his little sister. He remembered his father’s impassive stare and a curt nod. Fine. We’ll figure something else out for her then. If Cain had just picked Anita up like his parents asked, she wouldn’t have been taken.
He didn’t answer the knock at his door knowing his parents would likely enter anyways.
He sat up and ears perked when his mother showed him his phone. Cain didn’t bother resisting his mother’s hug, he leaned against her, ears twitching against the underside of her chin. “I guess.” He murmured. “Is Anita going to be okay?”
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Julianna tilted her face to press her cheek to Cain’s head, the fur of his ears tickled her face but she didn’t mind. She was mostly grateful that the moody child didn’t pull away, allowing the embrace to be comfort for the both of them. She nodded against his head and squeeze his arm reassuringly, though she didn’t know the honest answer to his question. “Yeah, I think so,” was all she could say, knowing she could be somewhat open with the kid. He was old enough that he wouldn’t appreciated being babied too much. “Your father says they don’t seem interested in hurting her. She’s just…” Jules’ paused, swallowing the thick lump in her throat. “Bait, I guess. We’ll get her back.”She lifted her head when she heard muffled shouting, the exact words lost due to distance. Fingers buried into the hair on the back of Cain’s head and she forced his face close enough for her to press a kiss to his temple. “Stay here,” she commanded, gently. Unaware of what had caused Owen’s behavior to escalate.
When she opened the door to Cain’s room, Jingles darted past her, nearly knocking her down and joined Cain on the bed. She whined and burrowed herself as close to Cain as possible. She shut the door behind her.
Owen’s voice became clearer as she neared the bedroom. She could hear him talking to Katanya. Medevac, torturing, we’ll respond accordingly. The eavesdropped knowledge felt as if it was tearing her heart into pieces. What had they tone to her daughter.
Julianna could feel the demon slinking in the back of her mind, feeding off her torrent of mixed emotions. Something changed in her as she stood in the door of the bedroom; an eerie sort of calm washed over her, her terror was replaced by an incandescent sort of rage. Belial reveled in it.
Upon relocating her husband, Jules paused. He had already changed and armed, she looked him over. Years of working for him had given her some insight on the way he prepared for specific situations. Her eyes lingered on the rifle strapped to his back. “I’m coming with you.” She told him of the decision she had made in the short distance from Cain to him. It was not a request, and her eyes locked with his in defiance of the protest she knew would come from him.
Katanya answered her phone immediately when Owen called her. She went through the motions of responding to his orders appropriately. Her teeth ground together, and she passed a hand over her face. She indeed knew what he meant. “Yes, sir,” she replied, before she hung up. Taking her own burner from her pocket, she flipped it open to read his most recent response.
>consequences
With a scream of frustration Katanya launched the phone at the opposite wall. It shattered and pieces scattered around the small space. She wouldn’t need it any longer anyway, but the gesture did nothing to subdue her. Anita was supposed to remain unharmed, she had promised that would be the case. Recent events had her feeling as if her mission was derailing. She couldn't focus with Anita's screams echoing in her head. Retrieving the rest of her arms, she finished dishing out orders to her remaining men. Her words were vague and half-hearted. She didn’t care what they did as long as they left Anita alone.
They were all dead anyway.
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Though appreciative for her comforting touches, Cain felt himself resisting a cringe to feel his ears brushing against her chin. He shrugged his shoulder half-heartedly against her arm. “Oh okay. I guess that’s good.”Ears flattened to his head when he caught sound of his father’s raised voice. An involuntary response. Cain let his mother pull him back towards her for a kiss on on his face but with some weak resistance. Her command to stay in his room didn’t bother him in the slightest, since that had been his plan all along.
The plan got even better when Jingles bounded into the room and made herself comfortable on his bed.
Owen’s back had been to Julianna when she entered the room. Distracted with the phone, he hadn’t noticed her entrance and whirled around at the sound of her voice. Cool grey eyes observed the expression in her face for a moment before recognizing the fury beneath. She wasn’t the only one who’d learned a thing or two about their spouse over the years.
He pointed an index finger sharply at her. “No. You are not.” Each word was punctuated and infused with his mandate.
Owen dropped to the bed and pulled his boots onto his feet. He swiveled the rifle to his side so he could sit comfortably. Haughtily pulling laces tight, he continued his orders, “You will stay here with Cain.” Owen switched feet bending low to pull the boot onto his foot. The left side was harder to manage than the right with his lack of knee mobility in the bulky brace that embraced his leg. He loosened the straps of the brace to bring his foot closer. Crepitation of the joint in protest filled the silence. “I will call Kent and he will come and sit with you if you are worried.”
There was no room for negotiation. His expectations wound as tight as boot laces.
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Julianna fixed her glare on the finger he thrust her in direction. It lingered there for a few heartbeats, the sight of it only added kindle to the fire of her rage. “Yes, I am.” Each word was staccato and pushed through clenched teeth. Green eyes lifted to meet his again, the tilt of her chin was both to see him and to further punctuate her defiance. She clawed fingers, aggravated, through her hair. They fell back to her sides with a slap against her thighs. She had accurately predicted his reaction.Ears springing to attention, she closed to distance between where she stood and where he sat lacing his boots. “I'm not going to wait around while only you risk your life for our daughter.” She took the opportunity that she rarely had to loom over him. The horrendous sound of his injured knee did nothing to comfort her. Her tail flickered angrily behind her head.
The mention of Kent only seemed to frustrate her further. She didn't want a babysitter. “I can help you,” she argued. They both knew of her abilities, of what she could do. Strength and speed and the endless manipulation of shadows at her disposal and he was treating her like some sort of distrusted damsel. He had always been more content to forget that she was stronger than she appeared. Natural abilities aside she had training that Owen had insisted she participate in and overseen personally.
It wasn't that Julianna didn't trust Major Forsyth and the rest of the team to take care of her husband and save her child. Julianna was tired of sending her husband face first into danger while she stayed behind and waited. “Kent can watch Cain,” she insisted, unknowingly repeating the words that the demon was whispering in her mind. Julianna was too much in a panic to realize Belial was manipulating her. “I can help you,” she repeated, sort of like a plea. His expectations weren't as solid as he'd like to think. “You have to let me help you.”
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Owen remained silent through her entire obstinate insistence. He clamped his jaw shut and worked at his laces. When his boots were secured he tightened the knee brace again. He unholstered his sidearm and retrieved a magazine from an open duffle bag on the floor in front of the bed. The sound of a magazine being jammed into place punctuated the quiet between Julianna’s words. A round was chambered with another sharp click and Owen checked the safety before he shoved the loaded weapon back into its place. Into his pocket he stashed another two magazines. Owen stood, changing the dynamic of who loomed over who. He placed his hands firmly on Julianna’s shoulders, “No,” the word was rigid and clipped, “Why are you defying me now of all times Julianna.”
It wasn’t a question so much as an accusation. “You are just another variable in a fluid situation for me to keep track of. And you are not in control right now.”
He had noted the change in her demeanor from frightened to argumentative and suspected the demon had something to do with it. “You are not my sidekick. You are my wife. You cannot put me into a situation in which I might have to choose between prioritizing your safety or Anita’s. I am too fucked up for that and you know I am.”
It wasn’t a suggestion that he would choose Julianna over their daughter. It was a twisted truth that Owen knew about himself. When it came to Julianna, he could never think straight. Even if she could handle herself. He couldn’t handle it.
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Julianna bristled when he suggested she was not in control. The fur on her twitching tail stood on end and her ears swiveled. Never mind that she couldn't see what he saw. She wasn't aware of the way her eyes had gone from an emerald green to a dull yellow; the pupils contracted into thin slits. When Jules was calm she had control over Belial, and the demon didn't have any chance of taking over, but the end of her patience was found at threats to her family. And Belial was an opportunist. With a scoff she pushed his hands away from her shoulders. Turning away from him to pace the room, if she could see herself right now she would know he was making the right call. “I don't need you to keep track of me,” she challenged, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her fingers. “You were insistent that I be trained. Insistent in knowing that I had your back and now you're leaving me here.” Her voice pitched higher, her tail curled tighter. Ears pinned to the crown of her head.
She stopped pacing when he claimed that he was too fucked up to make a decision. Julianna knew what he was trying to say. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it in consideration. They didn't know the situation, they didn't know what the abductors knew of them. What if Julianna wasn’t the sort of wild card she imagined? What if they knew how to subdue her? If by some chance Owen was left with a choice, she knew the one he would make. She knew she couldn't put that burden on him.
When she turned to face him her eyes were green and wet with tears, again. She moved to wrap her arms around his waist, crushing her face against his chest. Her fingers curled into the material stretched across his back. They were running out of time. He needed to leave.
“If you don't come back-” she said against his chest, voice thick. “I fucking swear if you don't come back I won't forgive you.”
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If Julianna was ferocious energy burning itself out, Owen was a controlled explosion waiting to detonate. Dormant, still, and collected. She moved away to pace the floor like an aggressive cat. He remained planted and firm with resolute arms across his chest. He would not be moved. His assessment of the situation would not subject to any change or revision, especially under the influence of the demon he so hated on his normally docile wife. He only moved to grab Julianna by the arm to hold her still for his counterpoint. “I trained you in the chance that if you were caught up in a dangerous situation you could handle it; but I did not do it to put you into one. Or to turn you into some kind of weapon. As you are now you are a danger to yourself and to me. You are not a risk I am capable of mitigating.”
He released her to return to her pacing and waited in patient silence while she deliberated. When Julianna turned back to him, she was herself again with tears in green eyes. He let his arms fall to his side in a relaxation of muscles and mental tension and wrapped her easily in an embrace. He was relieved he wouldn’t have to continue the battle of wills.
“I will be fine, Julianna.” He promised. His hand cradled the back of her head, holding her against his chest. “I will be back before the sun rises in the morning. We’ll have breakfast like any other day and we’ll deal with the fallout later.”
He kissed the crown of her head and let his hand relax.
“Let me call Kent to come sit with you.”
Without releasing her, Owen dialed his friend to give a brief description of the situation. Kent could be heard worrying about and apologizing for the situation they found themselves in. He assured Owen that he would come take care of Julianna and Cain through the night.
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Once upon a time Katanya had traded smoking for gum chewing. Gum was easier to keep on hand, especially during missions. Owen had his green apple Jolly Ranchers, and she had her assortment of chewing gum in fruit flavors. Her habit was not a wonky sort of good luck charm as it was a way for her to calm her nerves and keep her focus during long assignments. They way she chewed, snapped, and popped gum made it seem like her entire life was a long assignment. The gum wasn’t helping today. Katanya pushed herself away from the side of her Tahoe that she had been leaning against and spit the flavorless mound onto the ground. Kicking dirt over it with the toe of her boot before rounding to the other side of the vehicle. Wrenching open the passenger door, she knocked around in the glove box until she found what she was looking for. A weathered black paper box about the size of her hand. Shaking it close to her ear revealed there was still a few more of the bad habits inside. Pulling one out she placed it between her lips and lit it with a lighter she kept on her person for kicks.
Inhaling the stale smoke only made her feel better out of habit. It tasted terrible and her nerves were still on the fritz. Settling into the passenger seat she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Hands continued to make a steady rhythm to her mouth for more drags of the cig. It was dark and silent at the rendezvous point where she was waiting for the Lieutenant General. Her only source of light was the yellow wash from the overhead light. The spot was a few miles away from the actual destination, and a few more from any town or city.
Katanya considered the pasts events that had put her in this position. A bombing mission six years ago. Owen had placed the explosives that would destroy an international embassy in Russia and lead to a grueling back and forth conflict between the two superpowers. She had argued with him; begged him not to do it. She had the liberty of doing so when no one was watching her, but he hadn't listened.
Katanya had personally tugged at the strings that led to the mission going awry at the end. Just as she had in the past, but just like all those other failed attempts, Owen had refused to die. Instead, he'd ended up with the injuries that had ruined him for combat. His non-combat status had not taken his head off the FIS shit list. He'd been promoted, word got around that he was being considered for Commander General. This was her last chance. Her mission was definitively laid out before her and this time, it was Hart’s life or hers.
Still, a feeling of remorse nagged at her. Plagued with the thought of killing a man that had become her friend. Betraying the trust that not only he but the CAF had put into her. With a growl of frustration she tossed the spent butt to the ground and angrily lit another. Katanya didn't know when she had become this soft person. This woman full of doubts and the fear of regret. The hand not busy with the cigarette, unconsciously reached for the side arm strapped to her hip; a gift. One that she had received from Owen one holiday season that seemed a lifetime ago now.
Katanya could hear the beginnings of an SUV approaching, tearing up dirt and gravel in its wake. She glanced in the side mirror and could see the faint bounce of headlights in the distance. It was almost time. She inhaled deep on the cigarette.
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Owen left his wife and son in the care of a very capable friend but that didn’t make him feel any better. He almost regretted not bringing her with him that he could be sure by his own eyes that she was okay. Though determined in his task to bring Anita home, Owen had clasped Julianna in his arms and told her the words he had a very hard time admitting to her sometimes. Not because he didn’t mean the words but because he did mean them. And all the vulnerability and weakness and devotion meant by ‘I love you’ he had said to her before he left. It was meant to be a comfort to her. A promise to return. But it had felt, to him, too much like saying goodbye.
Something felt so wrong.
He reminded himself that he’d have one of the people he trusted most in the world at his side while they carried out this difficult task. Katanya Forsyth. In his long military career, he’d leaned on her more than once and found her sturdy and capable. Someone he could rely on. One he would trust with his life.
But something still felt wrong. Something pulled at his gut. A throbbing in the pit of his stomach reminding him of stormy days when his whole leg ached miserably. Just a constant reminder that something was awry.
Owen drove with a stillness to his body. Two hands on the wheel gripping the leather tightly. He didn’t fidget with the radio or adjust the heat. The armored Escalade had a chill to it from the season but he didn’t seem to feel it. He wouldn’t let himself feel the cold or anything at all.
The only thing he couldn’t stop himself from feeling was that something was wrong. Like a fly that kept coming back no matter how much he waved his hands at it.
Gravel was kicked up and crunched under the tires of the vehicle as he approached the rendezvous site. His headlights illuminated the red taillights of Katanya’s Tahoe. He slowed on the approach spying only her leaning on the vehicle a small billow of smoke snaked from the cigarette in her hand as she waited. Hadn’t she quit some time ago? He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her smoke. He remembered ridiculing her for the habit. A dependency. A sign of weakness. Not that he didn’t have plenty of his own.
Owen slowed and rolled down his window as he approached. He halfway hung out of the vehicle gesturing in frustration at her.
“Where’s the fuckin’ strike team Forsyth?” He demanded as he pulled up.
With haughty motions he threw the vehicle into park and cut off the engine. The headlights remained illuminated keeping her in a spotlight while he collected his gear from the passenger’s seat. He exited his vehicle leaving the keys in the ignition and the door wide open. The warning tone chimed weakly against the silence of the open night air. The city was a glow in the distance. The stars and moon at the higher elevation out near the mountains felt like an overbearing teacher over the shoulder. Weighing down with some unspoken warning.
Owen spread his hands out in annoyance. “Where’s the team?” He demanded again as his hands moved to check the looseness of his sidearm in the holster out of habit. The warning tone continued to pulse rhythmically and insistently. Don’t forget the keys.
“We don’t have time for this bullshit.”
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Katanya blew smoke and squinted against the glare of his headlights. She stared into the light until he rolled down the window. She looked up at him, though her vision swirled with distracting dark spots. Even with that singular question, she could already tell that the lieutenant general was a mess. It should have brought her some small feeling of pride to know that her plan had thus reduced him to this state, but it only made the pit in her stomach grow deeper. The cigarette tasted like only ashes in her mouth as she took another long drag.“I sent them to scout the area,” she said calmly, all but interrupting him the second time he asked. Frowning when he continued to lecture her. Smoke fell slowly with her words, she did not have the same sense of urgency as he. Katanya had been waiting on him, had already gone through the motions he went through now. She had always been the calmer of the two regardless. More obedient, more level-headed. She was the opposite of him, while still being his equal. One of the reasons he had come to rely on her as readily as he did. She dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath her boot.
She smoothed her hand over her hair. Blonde locks were pulled back into a severe looking ponytail at the top of his head. In any other situation she would have told him to calm down, but she didn’t. She needed him riled up and not thinking straight. Not that he ever listened when she offered that piece of advice.
“The team has found a structure buried into the edge of the mountains. Descriptions make it sound like an abandoned missile silo. Six armored vehicles parked around it. Thermal and night-vision imaging have detected movement. No reports of official activity being handled in or around the established base. There doesn’t seem to be any perimeter security, but we’ll only be able to get so close in the cars.”
When she was finished with her report, she stepped away from the Tahoe so she was no longer leaning on it. Her stony expression and rigid posture was enough to challenge the fact that he had questioned her and her ability to follow orders. Not that she would ever risk doing so aloud.
There was no team. Katanya had not sent anyone ahead. She rattled off details that she had specifically planted within the confines of her assigned mission. It was just her and Owen and she was leading him right into a trap.
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Owen was a mess. He checked the hostler of his side arm again. The weapon didn’t catch when he pulled it out. He shoved it back down again with gruff motions, pacing in tight lines as Katanya made her report.He stopped in front of her when she was done. Wide-stanced with hands on his hips, he nodded slowly. It was not an approving nod it was the disapproving kind. Like he'd expected sub par performance.
“You’d know, if you bothered to do any research, that the structure at the base of the mountain is a missile silo that was never finished. Not abandoned. It’s never been used.” It made him feel better to correct her in this way. Not that it mattered what the status of this structure really was. Soon to be missle silo or former missile silo. A rather minor detail. But the Lieutenant General loved pointing out others’ faults.
He huffed as he calculated the manpower that would have been transported in six armored cars. They would be outnumbered of course. “Did anyone think to intercept radio chatter?” He tapped the side of his head aggressively as if he were the only one with brains. Owen was getting angry. “Is this the amateur hour? Of course they will have perimeter security. Probably snipers laying in the mountains with ground boots on rotation. Tell the scouts to open their eyes and they might see something useful. Do they expect us to go in blind? We need a detailed report of the field. What kind of armored vehicles? .50 calibur turret-mounted humvees, for instance? Any visible insignia? Are there any dugouts? For the love of fuck, these are the things I'd like to know before I get turned into meat chunks.”
He finished his rant and squinted off into the darkness towards the area they would infiltrate. He pulled the rifle around and lifted it to stare through the night vision optical scope as he scanned the horizon.
“Mount up.” He told her as he swept the field again with his weapon. “We’ll proceed two klicks south by south east off road with no headlights.” Owen pointed in the direction he wanted to go. “We’ll ditch the vehicle and proceed on foot to meet the team.”
He checked his watch and then pulled out the burner.
No messages.
“Let’s go.” He turned away from her and slammed the door shut to his vehicle and sat in the passenger's’ side of hers. She would drive. He would stare out into the darkness and try not to imagine the torturing of his daughter.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
Katanya’s expression grew stormy under the weight of his power stance. The ends of her mouth fell into a frown, brow deepening towards the bridge of her nose. She didn’t reply when he corrected her, merely shifted her head in such a way that suggested she was at the very least listening to him. He could correct her if it made him feel better. She could give him one last chance to feel like he had the upper hand, before she snatched it away from him. The more he spoke to her like she didn’t know how to do her job, the more she found the resolve to do what needed to be done. “There’s no communication on any detected frequencies,” she replied, keeping her tone even though the words were pushed through clenched teeth. They did not have perimeter security, because there was no reason for the area to be kept secure. She knew this for the obvious reasons, and for the obvious reasons she did not tell him. “Imaging has produced no sign of bodies outside of the abandoned missile silo, sir,” she continued to give her report, almost speaking over him as she answer his questions in time. Her voice carried at the same level as his. “Two matte black armored Denalis no visible weaponry. One matte black Range Rover, no visible weaponry. Three matte black Grand Cherokees no visible weaponry. No visible insignia, clearly for transport. Currently unmanned. No dugouts. For all intents and purposes, for our current visible it’s just a missile silo. Whoever these people are they haven’t been here very long and they have no intention of staying.”
She watched him stare off into the darkness, her anger welling in the brief silence before he gave another command. Moving around the side of the vehicle she glared daggers at him when she slid into the driver’s seat. “I previously felt it unnecessary to remind you, Lieutenant General,” her words were clipped and pushed together tightly as she went through the motions of starting up the vehicle. With a sharp twist of the wheel she pulled off into the darkness. “That I am out here risking life and career on unauthorized orders for you and for your daughter.” She sighed, a sharp exhale through her nose. “You need to calm down,” she finally said it. “And you need to trust me to be able to do my job or this is going to go very wrong, very quickly.”
Truth be told, that was going to happen anyway.
Katanya fell into a silence to match his as she drove.
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Owen received the more detailed report with the same glare of disapproval as before. Nothing Katanya could do now would improve his mood or gain his approval. It was too late for that. He certainly didn’t appreciate her attitude. “Very well.” He responded with a near growl of warning to his voice. Though it had long stopped, the warning tone of keys left in the ignition seemed to echo in his ears. Something was amiss.
Owen rolled down the window and rested the body of his rifle on the door so that he continue to scan the darkness. He lifted his head slowly and turned his neck to glare murderously back at Katanya. A flare of nostrils. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths taken to control the tide of anger that welled inside in the wake of Katanya’s scolding.
Nevermind that he was her commanding officer, she had always felt the right to correct him. Perhaps he had treated her too much an equal over the years and this was his payback. It wouldn’t prove useful to remind her of her position in the hierarchy.
He gritted his teeth and turned away from her determined to keep his mouth shut for once.
Except he couldn’t.
“Keep your thoughts to yourself Forsyth, unless you have something useful to contribute. I don’t like this. Any of it. Anymore than you do. Something isn’t right and if you don’t sense it then your instincts can’t be trusted.”
He knew that was no way to address the issue of what seemed to be Katanya’s failing morale in the face of his anxious tension. Owen rolled his shoulders to release his muscles. He put a hand on the back of her neck and squeezed reassuringly.
“I appreciate your help Katanya. I wouldn’t have asked anyone but you. I’ll get you home tonight.”
He forced a smile for her benefit and let his hand fall away and back to his rifle again.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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Owen’s hand on the back of her neck felt cold. Or perhaps it was her own skin that was cold. Katanya’s blood coursed through her veins like cold water. She could almost feel sharp icicles tearing her apart from the inside. She kept her eyes forward, not that she had much choice since they drove in darkness, but she couldn’t risk sparing him a glance. She didn’t want to see that forced smile stretched across his features, and she was more grateful for the removal of his hands, than for his words. She had bullied him into being nice to her, and she regretted it. Do not be nice to me, she pleaded mentally. “Anita first,” she replied. Katanya could feel the tightness in her voice, and hoped he would play it off on nerves. “We’ll worry about the rest after.”
Katanya’s Blackberry buzzed in her lap, but the screen didn’t light up. A blue blinking light in the corner was the only indication that she’d received any correspondence. She waited to check it until she’d driven the entirety of Owen’s commands. Two clicks south by southeast, and she stopped. The vehicle was thrown in park and the engine cut off. Without an open door to beep at them incessantly, the silence was deafening.
She unlocked her phone, the dim screen barely visible in the darkness. “The team is in position,” she explained. More accurately, the dummy team she had in place was in position. Twisting in her chair she retrieved a laptop from the backseat; a stout and rugged looking thing that was made to be manhandled in the field. “They’ve tapped into some video.” Settling back in the seat she pushed the device open. A quick series of passcodes and security clearances and she was greeted with fuzzy video of the interior of the silo. She tapped and scrolled through various feeds and images.
Katanya paused on one and inhaled deeply. “We have eyes on Anita,” she said quietly, looking over at Owen. She tilted the screen towards the lieutenant general. The small child was huddled in the corner of a room just large enough to contain her. There was no sound to the images, but her mouth hung open in desperate wails as she cradled her ruined hand against her chest. The bows in her hair had come undone and hung loosely against the messy fall of her hair. Her shoulders shook with the effort of her sobs, and her tail bat, agitated, against the bare floor.
The major general swallowed hard in the darkness, and turned her eyes away from the screen. She should have never had to show him this, negligence on her part that she would have no opportunity to set right.
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The rest of the bumpy ride was made in relative silence save for the sounds of dirt crunching beneath the tires and bushes scraping along the underside. Owen gave up his vigilant scanning of the darkness. There was nothing to see. There wouldn’t be until they got closer it had just been something to do to keep his mind busy.Owen nodded his understanding to her announcement that the team was ready for him. In his mind he envisioned them in their positions around the silo; while he and Katanya approached together. The job needed to go smoothly. They had to take them by complete surprise to spare Anita further harm.
“Good.”
His stomach flipped somewhere inside him at the mention of a video feed of Anita. He was able to imagine a series of terrible pictures about her injured and maimed before the laptop was turned to show him. Though in reality she wasn’t actively being tortured, the image was worse than whatever he could think of. He choked down a wave of emotion and settled into a rising rage.
Owen jammed his finger at the screen. “This is what I’m talking about Katanya. This is personal.” He shook his head and slapped down the laptop to spare him anymore pain of watching Anita screaming silently.
He shoved open the car door and stepped down to the ground bringing his gear with him. He shouldered the rifle and moved around the SUV to meet Katanya.
“Let’s go before they decide to do anything else with her.”
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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