Dynamis | Chapter 11 - Red (Patreon)

Trauma doctors were on the scene as soon as the helicopter dropped down on the helipad. They rushed over, heads ducked, shouting over the din of the rotor blades. When they asked who had found Sean in this shape, Karl stepped forward, Kalki right behind him. Lilibelle used the butt of her gun to push Kalki away from Karl, shaking her head. Two of the doctors carried Sean to the gurney, and as soon as Sean was secured, they strapped a transparent mask over his face and started to whisk him away.

Lilibelle watched as Karl followed behind them. He looked to be beside himself, and with the noise coming from the helicopter, she couldn’t hear a word he said. She wanted to apologize for how she behaved in the simulations but couldn’t find the moment to do so. She was confident that Deadeye would never abandon a pair of Harmonic conductors. They were too valuable to leave behind. At least, so she thought.

A disturbing realization hit her. We’re nothing more than a means to an end. Expendable.

Lilibelle tightened her grip on her gun, side-eyeing Kalki. Kalki turned her head like a machine, her lips a thin line, her eyes half open. The mechanical eye whirred, Lilibelle fantasized about tearing it out of its socket.

As soon as the doctors disappeared down the emergency elevator, another pair of men arrived from the elevator opposite. They bore large muscles, dog tags, and matching black jackets. Mechanics most likely. Lilibelle moved to meet them halfway, but stopped prematurely when a cold droplet landed on her cheek. She looked up, scowling. A gentle rain had begun to fall, and a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach told her she knew how this would end.

Sean’s not going to make it.

Kurtis, Cameron, and Jesiah stepped off the helicopter, the foremost with his hand on Kalki’s shoulder. The cold woman looked over her shoulder at the man who was nearly two heads taller than her, and slanted her head the same way an insect would look at its prey.

The two men who ran up to greet them stopped and offered casual salutes. “Miss Katsun,” the man at the front of the pair yelled. The rotor blades were slowing to a stop, which made it easier to hear him. “Do you need to have your weapons looked at?”

Lilibelle hesitated. The weapon felt sure in her hands, and with Kalki around, she was apprehensive to let it go. When she considered that Kalki would have to go through not only her, but Kurtis, Cameron, Jesiah, and the two mechanics, she logically concluded that Kalki’s escape was impossible, and reluctantly handed over her weapon.

“Name’s Ryder,” he said, holding her SE-48 by the neck, barrel pointed up. He gestured to the guy beside him. “This guy’s my apprentice, Marvin.”

Lilibelle nodded.

“What about you guys?” Marvin asked, moving to stand beside his mentor. “Do you need to have your weapons maintained?”

The three men voiced various negatory answers.

“Energy-based,” Kurtis answered. “Nothing a good charge won’t fix.”

“If that changes, let us know,” Ryder said.

“I will.”

Ryder narrowed his gaze on Kalki. “Who’s this?”

Lilibelle stared at her sideways, but Kalki was too busy staring at the hunk of muscle that kept her from running away. “Someone we picked up during our mission. Apparently, she’s from Stinger.”

Ryder sighed and reached into the pocket of his mechanic’s jacket for a black bandana. “Here. Use this as a blindfold.”

Lilibelle took the shred of cloth and approached Kalki. Kalki frowned, which was the most human emotion Lilibelle had seen from her yet, and sniffed the air. “Smells like oil,” Kalki said.

“Deal with it,” Kurtis said, tightening his grip on Kalki’s shoulder. Kalki grunted and leaned slightly forward. “Go on, Lilibelle.”

Lilibelle tied the bandana around Kalki’s head. The mechanical eye whirred rapidly, as if it had a mind of its own and was panicking from the sudden darkness that enveloped it. Lilibelle couldn’t have cared less. Her concern lay with whether the eye could see through the bandana.

“Kurtis,” Cameron said, nodding his head to Kalki. “Cover her face.”

“Are you going to buy me dinner first?” Kalki asked in a monotone voice.

Kurtis shook his head, swept her off her feet with his left arm, cradling her tiny body with his single arm. Then he placed his right hand over her face. “There you go.”

“Bridal style? Is that really necessary?” Jesiah asked from behind Kurtis and Cameron.

Cameron looked at him over his shoulder. “Yes. You can never be too cautious.”

Saren stepped out of the helicopter, and made his way over to the group, glowering the entire way. His hair was messy and riddled with droplets of sweat and rain. “Goin’ without me?”

Kurtis chuckled. “Leave you out here? Where the Fiends could get you? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Somehow, the pilot’s glower intensified. “Take a look at the helicopter while you’re at it,” he said, looking at the mechanics. “I think I strained it with some of the maneuvers I pulled tonight.”

“We’ll see that it gets done,” Ryder said. “Anything else?” Lilibelle and the others shook their heads. “All right, then. Off you go. We got it from here.”

Lilibelle marched to the elevator that the maintenance men had come out of, and pressed the button for the ground floor. The elevator appeared seconds later, and she and the men stepped inside. As soon as the doors shut, Kalki snickered.

“Something funny?” Jesiah asked.

“You are all so cautious. It is amusing,” Kalki said.

“You say this like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” Kurtis said.

“Oh, we would not. Stinger takes no hostages. Stinger does not negotiate. You would all be dead. I look forward to seeing how this proceeds.”

Lilibelle glanced at Kurtis. Kurtis raised one eyebrow, shifted Kalki in his arm, then stepped out of the elevator when it arrived at the ground floor. Lilibelle followed Kurtis out of the box, and Cameron and Jesiah followed close behind. Their new friend caught the attention of a few mechanics who were busy on their own projects, but otherwise they were largely ignored by everyone who saw them. That was, save for a decorated man at the end of the hangar.

Lilibelle's breath hitched. She brought her feet together, set her arms to her sides, and straightened her back. Her partners mirrored her as the man approached. He wore a dark blue blazer and slacks, with a black tie and button-up shirt. On his breast pocket were three small, ornate medals which indicated his rank. He stopped crisply, adjusted his cap, and placed his arms behind his back.

“Miss Katsun,” the man said, nodding to her.

“Admiral Chovek.” Lilibelle mirrored his gesture.

“Are these the men who accompanied you with the approval of Captain Veren?” The man’s tone was terse, steady, with a slight rumble to it. If there was ever a man that scared Lilibelle, it was Admiral Chovek.

“Yes, sir,” she answered. During her first week, she’d learned that Chovek expected concise and direct answers to his questions. Any attempts to offer information he didn’t explicitly request were met with disdain and a firm hand across the face. She’d suffered such a blow on more than one occasion.

“Were you successful in extracting Mister Donovan?”

“Yes, sir.” She looked past the man, her attention nailed to the door at the other end of the hangar. It helped her remain stalwart, focused. 

“Very good. And who is this young lady here?” He looked at Kalki, and Lilibelle glanced sideways at their prisoner.

“Kalki,” Lilibelle answered. “A member of Stinger.”

The Admiral narrowed his gaze. “You brought a Stinger operative to our compound?” He clicked his tongue. “I expect an explanation in your report, Miss Katsun.”

“Sir, if I may—” Kurtis started.

“You may not,” Chovek said. “I am not speaking to you, Mister Ortiz.” Kurtis said nothing more on the matter, and Chovek stared at the girl. “What’s that noise?”

Lilibelle swallowed hard, hoping her next words didn’t tread over the very thin line Chovek had created between them. “From what I could tell, she has a mechanical eye.”

Chovek sighed. “Mister Ortiz. Take her to the holding cells. We’ll oversee her there.”

“Yes, sir,” Kurtis said, nodding.

“As for you, Miss Katsun. I expect your report on Captain Veren’s desk within two hours, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Lilibelle said. “Of course.”

“Very good. Rest up, gentlemen. We have a large operation tomorrow morning. I expect you to be at your best. Dismissed.” He saluted them. Lilibelle and the other men kept their arms behind their backs and parted to the sides to allow Chovek easy passage. As soon he was a good yard or two away, Lilibelle exhaled.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him,” Jesiah said in a half-whining sort of way. He brushed a hand over his hair and shook some of the water off. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Yeah, I need to cool off after talking to Admiral Dickhead,” Kurtis said. He adjusted Kalki in his arm, who had become strangely quiet since they’d arrived. “The hell is wrong with—” His voice was cut off by snoring. Kalki’s snore. Kurtis grunted. “I hate this chick already.”

Kurtis and Jesiah started to walk away. Cameron followed them. Lilibelle thought about stopping them, thanking them, saying anything she could think of to show her appreciation. They weren’t conductors, like her or Karl, but they’d helped her in their own way, and her father had taught her better than to use and discard people as needed.

“Thank you,” Lilibelle said, the heat rising to her cheeks. Every nerve in her body fought against her; told her to run away or scream at the top of her lungs. She hated this mushy shit. But she was a Katsun through and through. So, she stood her ground and balled her hands. “For helping me.”

The men stopped.

Kurtis shrugged. “Just doing our jobs.”

“Speak for yourself, Kurtis. I’m glad your partner’s all right,” Jesiah said, smiling.

Cameron nodded. “By the way, I know that you’re still fairly new. If you want any assistance in writing the report, let me know. Chovek is particular.”

“T-Thanks. I… might do that,” Lilibelle said, her voice descending lower and lower with each word. She diverged her attention elsewhere and turned around. “See you later.”

“See you,” Jesiah said.

“Don’t forget, you still owe me a shootout,” Kurtis said. “A thousand creds.” There was a playfulness to his tone that nearly turned her back around. “I’ll be looking for you later.”

A few seconds of silence passed, and at last she could hear their retreating footsteps. She listened to them for a moment, then walked in the opposite direction. She didn’t want to think about how red her cheeks must’ve been right now. A cold splash of water would dispel such childish heat, but that would require her to walk in the opposite direction, where Kurtis and the others had gone. That would be awkward. So instead, she slipped her hands into her jacket pockets and perched on a nearby metal crate as if that had been her intention all along.

Damn it, I should have kept my mouth shut.

She bounced one leg on the ball of her foot. Already, she was regretting her decision to show her appreciation. Her thoughts lingered on Cameron’s offer, Kurtis’s nonchalant approach, and Jesiah’s charming rookie-headed nature.

Then she thought about Karl.

Her leg stopped bouncing. The more she thought about it, the more sure she became that Sean wasn’t going to get through this. He’d lost so much blood. She was surprised he was still breathing by the time they’d returned. There were several points where she was sure he wouldn’t survive the trip back to Deadeye.

And yet… he held on.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture her father. Tall, weathered and distinguished. It was easy to imagine him in his signature white suit and red tie, enjoying a cup of tea in his study. Despite being in his forties, he had a thick head of blond hair and vibrant red eyes. Just like her. She imagined dancing with him again.

The scene shifted to the night she lost him.

There was so much blood when the attack came. On the walls, the marble, even the ceiling. The guests were strewn about the chandeliers, draped across the stairs and over the banister. They were barely recognizable, most of them in pieces, the estate drenched in viscera. Red hand prints streaked across the marble floor with bits of fingernails mixed in. The front door had been smashed in and, save for the crashing of thunder behind her, Lilibelle hadn’t heard a peep.

By the time she found her father, she could barely tell it was him. It wouldn’t be long before Deadeye found her and the remaining survivors; of which, there were only two others. She hadn’t said a word for days, much to the frustration of the Deadeye group. Eventually she talked, but it took a lot of coaxing.

She sighed and shook her head. What the hell is moping going to do? There were things to do, and the Fiend threat wouldn’t stop just because she was upset. She hopped off the crate and patted the back of her pants. It was late enough as it was, and she was doing herself no favor by delaying her report.

She unzipped her jacket and waved her hand around her armpits to cool off. The hangar was a warm place, especially right now, with how many DFs were in need of repair. She walked briskly to the other end of the hangar, stopping only as long as needed to avoid running into the doors. The doors slid open, and she made her way through to the elevator. She pressed the button for the fourth floor and waited. She tapped her foot impatiently.

The image of her father’s smiling face resurfaced. Her upper lip twitched, and she punched the metal casing around the elevator buttons, denting the surrounding area slightly. She’d vowed never to allow herself to grow close to people again. No friends, no significant others, no one. The pain of losing her father had been too much, and it was a feeling she didn’t want to experience again.

And yet…

Why can’t I stop thinking about them?