22:55 Gymnasium – Basketball Practice Courts

Vic lay dead in a pool of his congealing blood. Alice had already taken his weapons and made them safe. They left his leg rest where it was four rows down from Vic. John was holding his battle rifle. He pressed the magazine release button and then pulled the charging handle to extract the live round that was in the chamber. He then leaned the gun against the wall.

John made a long overdue phone call, “This is Cadet Lief, we’re safe, at the campus, and have a hostile DOA in the basketball practice area of the gymnasium.”

There was a pause on the other end by the Naval Intelligence Agent that had answered, “What do you mean you’re on campus?”

“Well, there was an attack on the safehouse. Then we booked it the fuck out of there.”

Deputy Director William Friedman came on the line, “Why have you not contacted us since the initial attack?”

“We didn’t know who to trust or what the assassins knew. Since they knew about the safehouse it was safe to presume they had access to some or all of our communications. Alice came up with the basis of a good plan and thank god their stealth suits weren’t as good as ours since this clever bastard had a similar plan to ours.”

“Sending a team over there now. Stay put and don’t touch anything.”

“Roger that.”

“So, can we talk about the whole knife dealio?” Alice asked with a smirk.

“Remember how that Psi-Corp agent swore up and down that I didn’t exist after my little accident?”

Alice nodded her head, “I didn’t quite understand what he meant by that.”

“Well, if he reached out with his mind, he could sense that you existed. He may not be able to get much out of you based on the conditioning of your mind, but he could tell where and what you are. But for me, I’m like a blank to them. That seems to apply not only to telepathic but telekinetic abilities as well. Cool bonus on the latter.”

“But how did you stop the knife? If I throw a knife at you, which by the way look out for that whole jumping stunt, why would your ability stop them dead? The knives have forward momentum.”

John shrugged, “I got nothing for you on that. Unless they weren’t thrown at me but rather propelled the whole way. In any case, it seems I can keep secrets from everyone, and I can’t be killed by a rogue telekinetic.”

“They just have to come at you like these people and all the rest, right?” Alice said crossing her arms and shaking her head.

Five minutes later several Naval Intelligence agents along with campus police showed up at the scene. Two squads of marines were taking up position outside of the building with another one filing in after the rest. A pair of engineers ran over to the power armors and began pulling them off one another.

The senior field agent then began chatting to John. A junior agent was talking with Alice. They were trying to understand what happened. Both John and Alice handed them data slates with their HUD data and visuals offloaded from their suits already.

Senior Field Agent Johnson was reviewing the footage, “This has been a complete and total shit show. Sixteen agents are dead. A safe house that is ruined, much less the damage to the building itself. I don’t suppose you can explain how your wife acquired that suit?”

“Well, she sure as shit didn’t acquire it,” John used air quotes, “The academy, as I’m sure your keenly aware, is kitted the fuck out. Naturally, it has several female-sized suits. I didn’t check it out and the locker that was storing it is kind of broken right now though.”

The field agent rolled his eyes, “On a tight schedule, are we?”

“Well, you know, when assassins are trying to kill me protocol and shit like that kind of goes out the window.”

“Speaking of, why didn’t you contact us?” the agent then put his finger up in front of John as he listened to an incoming call, “Hang tight, I’ll be right back with you.”

Alice walked over next to John and leaned her head on his shoulder, “The others said it was going to be a couple more hours. At least.”

“Well fuck me, there go our plans for tomorrow.”

03:15 Gymnasium

Alice was resting as she leaned against John. John looked bored, tired, and highly irritated. No one was telling him much of anything. The agents would come by, ask questions and generally be annoying, offer no timeline on when they could leave, and then the agents would scurry off to talk to another agent. No one came over to shoot the shit with John or have any small talk with him. It was almost as if he was a pariah of sorts.

Agent Sherman then walked upped to John, “Been a while, don’t suppose…”

“You were in the van during the New Orleans op. What the fuck is going on?” John said with a grin.

“The bosses are a little pissed you got a team killed.”

John squinted his face, “I got a team killed? That’s total bullshit. Their safe house wasn’t that safe, an explosion, fires, and a hostile in power armor all combined to do the agents in.”

“That’s their opinion, not mine for the record. Heard a couple of higher-ups grumble about that. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, but your special status was going to be revoked when you graduated, but now that topic is being discussed again and likely expedited.”

“I don’t suppose you know why?”

Agent Sherman sat a row down from John, “Three of the four executives reporting to the director believe your ability to gather intelligence effectively is at an end.”

John chuckled to himself, “I suppose uncovering and unmasking of the treasonous scheme last year was just luck then?”

“Look man, I think it’s a mistake. But now that you are no longer your old self, there is a growing belief that you’re a liability to the cause. One that they don’t want to deal with.”

“Well, I did make myself impotent from a certain point of view. It’s easier to cut bait and end things.”

“It’s bullshit, but you know how political things get around here.”

“I do, all too well. If you or any of the other agents need us y’all can schedule some time when we’re in class on Monday. It’s been a long ass day and I’m tired of my wife drooling on my shoulder.”

“This will just…”

“Hasten their resolve. Look, I’m cool with them not wanting me anymore, it’s honestly no skin off my back. Just means I need to be a bit more careful about things. But mostly dude, I’m physically tired and worn out tonight.”

“Suppose that puts you on a level playing field with the rest,” Agent Sherman smirked.

“Nah, no such thing as level ground with me. Been a pleasure agent. Have a good one.”

John then gently woke up Alice. She emanated a cantankerous aura. John didn’t hold a candle to this level of annoyance.

“Ok, you are cranky. It’s time to get to bed.”

“About fucking time,” Alice said yawning and rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, it’s always been a pleasure working with you,” Agent Sherman reached to shake John’s hand, “I’ll cover for you.”

“Stay safe,” John said as he walked away from the agent.

The couple walked through the maze-like area of practice arenas and rooms and eventually made their way to the general gymnasium. They were met by several marines at checkpoints that were guarding the area. Getting through each one was a struggle but eventually, they made it out of the building.

“You comfortable or a bit chilly?” John asked.

“Well, I am cold but…”

“Take it,” John said as he pulled hoody off.

“What about you?”

“I’ll survive,” John said smirking.

“Oh my god, I was just going to say you’re going to catch a cold if you let me do this,” Alice looked surprised but settled into a smile.

“Not true, the cold itself won’t give me a cold, though it will weaken my immune system making me more susceptible to getting a cold. Figured a pre-med would know that.”

“You know damn well I’m in psychology, not medical. And yes, I know that," Alice slapped John’s shoulder, “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” John asked with a surprised look on his face.

“About Naval Intelligence turning its back on you.”

“You heard that eh? Not much to talk about. Kinda figured they’d do that sometime. Wasn’t lying that I need to be a bit more careful with how I do things in the future.”

Alice smiled, “I’m not all that interested in running away because the law wants you.”

John squeezed Alice’s hand, “I am keenly aware of that. I won’t make that a problem you need to deal with.”

“Thank you. Are we done with people trying to kill you this year?”

John chuckled, “Well, based on the available intelligence, the ones we know of are all dead. Though Dr. Norman will almost certainly try some bullshit sooner or later. And other people because why not assume the worst.”

“How are you going to end his threat?”

John looked up at the night’s sky as they got closer to their dorms, “Won’t be doing that op alone. I’m hoping General Mizrahi gets a green light next year. He told me he’d try and get me involved in it.”

“But that would mean the Mercantilist Union’s government would have to give up on him, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah. Here’s hoping he does something exceptionally stupid in the next eight months or so.”

“Do you really want that?” Alice asked.

“Better him fuck up than me,” John said sarcastically, “I wouldn’t mind being there and putting a bullet through his forehead. He’s been in need of a good killing a long time.”

“You know what I can’t quite wrap my head around?”

John looked over at Alice, “What’s that?”

“Why did Jess save me? She didn’t have to.”

“Yes, she did. It was her duty.”

“It’s not that simple. I remember when I chatted with her that one time. I got the impression she’d do anything to get you back.”

John shook his head, “She knew that I had closed that chapter in my life. There was never going to be another chance for her. She had a job to do, and she did it. I’m sad that she’s gone because she didn’t deserve to die, but I owe her a debt of gratitude for keeping you safe.”

"Are you sure it's that cut and dry?"

"Not that sure. Maybe she didn't want me to be sad. In any case, what's done is done."

John squeezed Alice’s hand. The couple walked back to their dorm room in relative silence. They weren’t far from the dorms. When they eventually reached their room, each raced to get into bed as quickly as possible. The two were exhausted and wanted to sleep.

Sunday. 08:57 Cafeteria

John and Alice showed up three minutes before the cafeteria shut down serving breakfast. The workers looked none too enthused to serve two more cadets. Alice looked far more tired than John and wasn’t nearly as excited about this meal either.

She had a single scoop of scrambled eggs, two pieces of bacon, and some wheat toast. John’s plates were a stark contrast to hers. The first plate was equal parts eggs and bacon, both of which were stacked into a half pyramid. The second plate had four pieces of white toast, two blueberry waffles, and several breakfast sausages.

John hurried over to their friends' table and set his plates down. He jogged back to the drink station where Alice was slowly pouring coffee into a mug. John grabbed two large glasses and filled one with milk and another with orange juice.

“I’m sorry but the amount that man can eat is astonishing,” Kristin said.

“Gross too,” Theresa added with a look of disgust on her face.

“God, he must annihilate the head,” Kevin said snickering.

Andern, Nathan, and Thomas joined in the laughing. Brian and Jessica were shaking their heads at the four. John then interrupted the conversation and sat down. His first action was to shovel a forkful of eggs and two pieces of bacon into his mouth.

“Morning. Was a late, physical, and rough night,” John said as he swallowed three pieces of bacon.

“Was wondering when you two were going to show up,” Jessica then took a drink of coffee.

Brian pulled up a news report and showed it to the pair, “This makes more sense now.”

John paused a moment and scanned the news article, “Highly inaccurate but otherwise yes.”

“Care to elaborate?” Andern smirked.

“Well, the other crew showed up. They weren’t amateurs either, unfortunately. Had run-ins with both in the past.”

“This asshole grabbed me and crashed through a wall twenty stories up,” Alice put her fork down and pointed at him.

“Intel crew ended up dying at the safe house, including my ex. Though she did save Alice, so I owe her one for that. Learned something new about my abilities. Then lured the other one to the gym where we offed him there.”

Kristin stared at John and just shrugged, “Never a dull moment with you. Kill assassins one day, receive a medal another, then kill more.”

“Totally not my fault,” John said as he pointed his fork at her.

“Actually, this time it is on you. Technically you did escalate things with that Norman character. And then when you really could have made his attacks impotent you ran off and neutered yourself,” Alice sat back and drank some coffee.

“That last one was totally a pyrrhic victory. At least he got rid of one of them,” Thomas leaned in.

“So, what about your powers? You found something out then?” Andern asked.

“Yeah, was the strangest damn thing too. The chick sent a pair of knives at me. Then about three-ish feet or so away from me they just stopped, hung in the air, and then dropped.”

“Damn, so your basically immune to all things telepathic and telekinetic. I assumed that was a possibility but fascinating all the same,” Kevin took the last sip of his milk.

“Hold on John,” Theresa motioned with her hands, “You picked her up while you were running behind her, leaped through a wall, fell seven stories, and crashed into the wall of another building? How did you calculate all of that?”

“I mostly eyeballed it,” John shook his head before eating some bacon.

“Bullshit,” Thomas said.

“Onboard VI calculated that we should’ve ended up on the twelfth floor,” John shrugged, “I didn’t believe it. And we landed on the thirteenth so the VI was wrong.”

“Your still an asshole for that,” Alice said pouting.

“Who’s heading to the range this afternoon?” Kristin asked.

“Oh, hell yeah,” John said smiling.

“Of course, he would,” Nathan pushed his tray forward, “Can never have enough gunplay for him.”

09:45 Academy Rifle Range

John was laying prone on a shooting mat. His last sighting round had struck the inner circle of the five-hundred-yard target. John marked where he struck the target on his target sheet. He had finished his sighting in far more quickly than the other cadets.

“Done already?” Andern asked in between shots.

“Yup.”

Andern fired another round at the one-hundred-yard target. His record-keeping wasn’t nearly as accurate or methodical as John’s was. Andern was an absolute headcase with the math and mechanics surrounding how and where to hold. Instinctively he got it but explaining it to him was useless. Telling him how to be accurate was nigh on impossible but given enough rounds and practice he was usually able to be very accurate.

John was the polar opposite. Calm, cool, and collected throughout the shooting process. Kept his heartbeat low, timed his breaths, calculated the drift and windage, and held off on the sight accordingly. His scope was zeroed in at two hundred yards. There wasn’t a right or wrong zero, but that felt the most comfortable for John. All of his shots were inside two MOA, most being inside one.

“Ooh damn, that was way off,” Andern said as he pulled the magazine out.

There was a small pile of empty twenty-round magazines to the right of his shooting area. John left five rounds in his magazine and managed to get three accurate rounds at each of the five targets. He checked his rifle once more to ensure it was clear and in a safe condition.

“Cadets, you have five minutes to finish your sighting in your scopes,” the range safety officer, a Marine sergeant said over the intercom.

“John, you have any spares, I’m running low,” Andern said.

“They gave us ten mags dude, how the hell are you running low?”

“Why do you need more?” Kevin shouted from the other side of John.

“Just need more,” Andern said as he fired two more rounds in quick succession.

John shook his head and threw a pair of full magazines over his friend. Andern grunted when saw them and continued with his haphazard testing plan. Inwardly, John was shocked at the wasteful use of all that ammunition. Sure, shooting was fun, but Andern was acting like an agent of chaos.

“Two minutes,” the assistant safety officers bellowed from behind the line.

Andern had, to the general dismay and shock of John, fired through both of those magazines. The safety officers then called to make all guns safe and to get up and stand at the red line. Several range officers came out with noticeably smaller magazines.

“Dude, weak. How many rounds are in this thing?” Andern asked as he looked at the top of the magazine.

“Five. You get one shot at each target,” John said as he pulled each round from the magazine.

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked.

“Seeing if the rounds were warmer cooler than the ones we just shot,” John said looking over at Kevin.

Thomas saw the pile of empty magazines, “Jesus Andern, what the fuck man?”

“I’m all sighted in now.”

Kristin grinned, “John, how many rounds did you fire?”

“Only fifteen, I gave the idiot two magazines though,” John said as he was putting the rounds back in the magazine.

“You get one round at each target. You must start at the twenty-five-yard target and end on the five-hundred-yard target. You will have five minutes to complete the shooting. When you are done shooting drop the magazine, lock the bolt to the rear, and move the safety to safe. Then you may stand up and wait for an RSO to come by and grade your shooting.”

Andern whispered to John, “Why are we doing this again?”

“Part of the job?” John answered quietly while shaking his head, “Everyone does this.”

“Time commences now,” the marine shouted.

The cadets turned and jogged/walked to their stations. John sauntered over at a slow pace to his. There was no sense in raising his heartbeat needlessly. When he got to his bay, he dropped to his knees then settled into his shooting position on his stomach. The diminutive magazine was slid into the magazine well and locked into place.

John pulled the bolt back and let go of it, causing it to feed a round into the chamber and lock into place. His right thumb flipped the safety. He then looked down at his target sheets for where he held on to all the shots.

Once his heartbeat was at an acceptable level, he flipped the safety off. John pulled the gun into his shoulder and made a good cheek weld to the stock. The scope was aimed at the right position. The safety was flicked off then John pulled back on the trigger steadily and smoothly. After the round was fired, he flicked the safety and then checked his notes.

He repeated this process four more times. He hit the center ring on three of the five shots. The longest two targets the round struck between the center and first ring. John dropped the magazine, locked the bolt, and pressed the safety. He then raised his hand and picked up the rifle as he stood up confidently and looked on at his work, beaming with pride.