Isaiah’s cloaked LTAC stood behind a figure, dressed in a similar pilot suit to Isaiah’s, amongst the trees of a field where the backdrop of skyscrapers of the capital could still be well seen over the tree line. The other two cloaked LTACs weren’t far from him, pilots inside, facing towards him. A recent model luxury SUV pulled up a few meters away and several well-dressed men stepped out. The last to get out was dressed in a summer weather-friendly suit with designer sunglasses to match. He was the first to approach the pilot, who could now be seen to be utilizing a sun-masking visor display over his helmet, unable to make out his eyes or face. He watched the pilot hold up his mobile as a voice transmission interface opened up on holographic display, cueing him to speak. “I realize how many men I am losing to do this, but it’s thanks to you we are finally gaining ground on those who stand strongest against us, Mr. R.” The casual manner in which he spoke hinted that this form of communication had already occurred numerous times.

The voice from the other side, disfigured by a program beyond anyone’s possible recognition, spoke back: “And I will of course honor the rest our end of the deal. But I called you here to request an alteration in one of the conditions on your end.”

“We might be able to make some changes,” the man said as he stopped just in front of him, taking note of Revenant’s and Requiem’s LTACs looking down on his men. “What might those be?”

“I am going to bring in about two dozen more Kappas and four tanks. I need you to recruit or promote more men to operate them, and have it done by Saturday. Can that be done? Or should I bring in our people to help fill the need?”

“So, please, Mr. R,” the man asked as he turned to look upon the city skyline. “Understand once more why I am working with you. I seek not to destroy the city, just to get the people to stop surrendering their freedoms to the families who continue to keep them in poverty. But I feel that the more we try to use your money and resources to destroy them, more of our city gets destroyed.”

“I understand your concerns, Señor Rocha,” the voice continued. “But you see what you fight against. You have used up a number of our Kappas by this point, and I think you need to check the status on the three you sent today. Think about how the Galeano’s old Gamma frames are holding up so well while being so outnumbered.”

“We over-ran one of their compounds today, first such victory for us. Maybe that’s just what it costs sometimes.”

“Exactly. I think that the damages done will be essential in getting what you want accomplished, don’t you think?” He saw Mr. Rocha now deeper in thought. “But now think about the intel I gave you earlier. Infinity is sending in a dozen more of their A-series units in tomorrow morning. You won’t stand a chance.”

“Even though you wiped out a dozen by yourselves yesterday…?”

“The element of surprise was much more in our favor. Don’t underestimate their abilities to adapt. Now, understanding the situation better and knowing what has to come as a result, allow me to send more firepower. People will have to see the damage as the doing of the Galeano’s, and next, the Vera’s, as they are the ones refusing to listen to their constituents. The hands they force in keeping control of their districts is what brings about the destruction. The people want change. You listen to it, or you fight it. Let them get fought, let the cost be what it is. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

Mr. Rocha took a long pause in thought, unable to counter. He had by this point in time been long accustomed to acquiring power and influence by force. By now it would be silly at best to suggest to the man that a less violent route be chosen. “You make good points. I hate to think about the reconstruction efforts, but sometimes the old must come down to make the new.” He then put his hands in his pockets with a defeated smirk. “Alright, Mr. R, I will use the last of my few good pilots and will ask that you provide the rest. Who may contact you with the numbers?”

“You will send a message to the same proxy as you used Monday. Respond with the numbers by seven o’clock latest tonight.”

“Good doing business with you, Mr. R.” He then turned and headed back for his SUV as the others behind him followed suit and loaded up.

As they drove off, the man took off his helmet, revealing he was Revenant. He turned to Isaiah’s LTAC and put a hand up in the air, circling his pointed finger around. “Lead the way, Cable,” he said over his communicator as he then turned towards his own LTAC.

Marian turned Isaiah’s LTAC around and walked up to the opposite end of the road the SUV took to leave the area, once again taking hiding within the deeper part of the forest. “The Rocha crew is likely failing to do more than what they got done, don’t you think?”

“Everyone stay down,” Isaiah’s voice came up over the radio. “No need to warm up the catalyzers, either. Let them clean up as they please… the damage is already done for us. All we need to worry about is that empty set of LTACs on their way. You realize this is not Vincent Vrey calling the shots anymore, right?”

“What, did you intercept something new? Who is it?” Marian continued.

“Someone with brains, and upped the encryption internally so I don’t know who is contacting them. But one thing I did grab was that they are equipping the locals instead. This is crunch time. We won’t need to necessarily over-run them, but we need maximum damage to come out of this to their infrastructure in exactly the right places. Any messier and we likely get intervention from the SAU who will be guaranteed to side with the wrong mobs, which we can’t afford to let happen right now.”

“Wait, Reap’, just how do we expect to do that without our own intervention?” Revenant asked as he got into his LTAC. “I get the risk factor, but these Rocha hires and even the guys we brought in aren’t the most dependable as you see.”

“But that’s just it,” Isaiah replied. “If we don’t get this done with the hires, Underground won’t give us access to better people. We need to prove our worth here. Prove that our methods use as little time and as little of people like us as possible. So, let’s stop wasting time. Got a lot of work to do.”

“I don’t like sitting back like this, but what choice do I got?” he huffed as he hopped back into his seat and harnessed up. “Well, we might as well go check back in with the boys over in Kennedy.”

▽　▽　▽

Sam saw the toppled parking garage building cutting off all visuals and distorting the signal from Sebastian’s unit, but at the same time couldn’t ignore the fresher NOx trails approaching Renzo from around the corner behind him. “Renzo, watch out! Got one coming up on your eight!”

[Bas, hold on! Hang in there!] Renzo shouted, whipping his MI-r around and held up his grenade launcher. Shit, only two rounds left. He then heard the beeping sounds once more. [Cruella, tell me what that is and where it’s coming from!]

[She said check that corner you are looking at!] an operator’s voice responded over the line.

By that time, the dust cloud from the collapsed building rumbled past him, blocking most of his visuals. He took a second to recalculate his moves, switched to his last smoke grenade round, and fired it directly in front of him where he last saw the empty intersection. [Tell that girl to calculate me their angle of approximate position from me!]

The operator sitting just to the side of where Sam was standing now stood up, patting her on the shoulder and ran a finger from Renzo’s unit to the opposing wall and then to the red cloud imaging. [Distance and angle, please,] he requested awkwardly.

Sam swiped the screen to zoom in over the clouded area in question before reading the time interval changes relation to the intensity changes. “You are at about a… 15 meter distance and 50 to 60 degree angle shot away but increasing with distance. He’s definitely backing up,” Sam detailed with hand motions, hoping to make sense to the operator.

Renzo’s sweaty grip tensed as he awaited an answer, dialing up the detonation delay on his grenade launcher.

[Ah! I got it! You got about a 60 degree angle from 15 meters out if you are taking a shot but make it quick!]

Renzo waited no further as he adjusted his aim while watching his trajectory form on screen, taking a shot, and then jump-started his boosters. After hearing the explosion, he rocketed forward out of the smoke and spun his mech towards the direction he anticipated the enemy to be, finding it in an attempt to regain its balance. He pulled the trigger this time to his shotgun attachment, sending five blasts through it before he could tell the black and brick colored machine fell silent. The shattered glass and scattered concrete and tile wall pieces were still falling from the sky as he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

[Don’t just sit there! Check on Sebastian!] Sam scolded over the radio.

Sebastian was catching his breath, realizing his unit somehow held up from the weight of the concrete wall section that fell on him. He could then feel from the weight of his body that he was parallel to the ground on his left side, now trying to pull the controls back to force himself free. While he continued the struggle, his sensors detected explosives armed nearby. Now breathing harder once again, he pulled at the controls just as hard but to no avail. Just as he had let go of the controls out of sheer frustration, the blinding light of the sun had him squinting, realizing someone freed him from the wall section.

Renzo continued to shove the slab off of his brother’s MI-r carefully while keeping his eyes open for any other surprises. [Bas, you OK in there?] He then stepped back as he saw the MI-r start to stand up, collapse back down, then roll over as if to climb the crumbled section next to him.

Sebastian could now see through part of his visor showing the left portion of his screen visibly enough to know where he was aiming, took aim for the infrared activity detection, and pulled the trigger.

Renzo saw the spectacle, noting Sebastian had no hand. He looked to what he was aiming for and realized there was another black LTAC under some rubble trying to gather itself. He carefully walked up to it and fired his last shotgun round point blank into the back of the unit. [Should’ve told me sooner that he was worrying you, little buddy!] Renzo chuckled, easing the tension inside the communications room as well.

[All clear inside, but they took everyone down… no prisoners,] he heard Dani speak up.

[How many Rocha’s made it inside?] Renzo continued.

[Um, most of these guys weren’t even Rocha’s. Total foreigners… European perhaps, but we can’t find any documentation on them. Lots of Deimar rifles. Fourteen men in all that made it inside before the executions.]

[Thanks, sis, Finish cleanup and I will help stand guard. Bas is out of commission, I think.] He then looked back to Sebastian’s unit which was barely standing. [Bas, no comms?] He then noticed the front cockpit canopy open up and saw a broken headset tossed out onto the ground below. Oh, how about that.

Sam took her headset off as she wiped her forehead, letting out a deep sigh of relief. But no sooner did she take notice of the much busier air to the techs and operators in the room as more screens popped up with other compound members and even local news channels. Must be how cleanup starts around here. I keep forgetting to think what a mess this all becomes. Shit… She looked around awkwardly, wondering what to do with the headset now in her hands.

“I will take that,” a voice said from behind her.

Sam turned to see a stoutly built man with a cleanly cut beard in a familiar pattern. “Mr… Mr. Galeano? I think?”

He reached for the headset and then reached for a cigarette from his left chest pocket. “We were sad you were an only survivor from yesterday, but glad that the one survivor is you, Samantha Knight.” He then lit the cigarette, waiting on a response from Sam.

“…I’m not sure how to take that, but, thanks, Mr. Galeano.” She tried to hold in a cough as some of the smoke coming off the cigarette wafted her direction, taking her comfort levels back down a few notches. The sharp smell was still something to get used to as this form of nicotine uptake was never exercised in Space, but with the Boss of it all in front of her, she tried her best to hide her disgusted reaction.

“You will teach our men how to use that sensor software and hardware you were just using. I think when we get our new delivery tomorrow, we will very much need this. OK?”

She visibly continued growing more and more uncomfortable. “I can try, but I do hope to be able to return back home tomorrow, sir.”

“You can help us, first. Fair, is it not?” He then pointed to her clothes. “You have been taken care of when we could’ve left you in the street. My boys are very kind. Too kind for my liking, but they are amazing and valuable assets to me so I let them talk me into letting you have some freedom moving around our complex and spending our money.” He could read the protesting expression she gave off and continued before she could respond. “I already talked with your father. He was a good pilot from the last war. I read about him just now. So, you are the daughter of a real Harbinger. A famous one who is now a top Hexa official making deals with me.” He took in another smoke before continuing. “I agreed to continue with what I promised, but you need to give us just a bit more before I consider the conditions on your side met. So, you need to teach these men to use your sensor software and hardware today.”

“Today? But how?! Sorry, sir, but there is a major language barrier, and I don’t have my translation abilities without my Hexa-issue headset or my mobile.” She eagerly awaited a response, wincing a bit to a growling stomach.

Mr. Galeano turned to get the attention of the nearest tech to him. [Bring this girl some empanadas* or something and a drink.] He then looked back to Sam. “You are hungry, of course. It’s already very much past lunch time and you did lots of good work helping to keep my boys alive. I am very thankful for that. But please, take your time and… ah, of course, you are not from NAU you are from space. You learned lots of Spanish to speak with the Casares people.”

Oh boy, here we go with this bullshit again, she thought in response to both his casual grin and the line she now grew to hate with a passion.

“Use that to speak with my men, and you can do that while you eat lunch that they will bring you.” He waved off Sam’s attempt to plea, causing her to cough more from the smoke tossed around. “My men will tell me when you are done. Then you can go do what you please.”

What the ever-living fuck?! Are they really serious? She cleared her throat to respond but had seen Mr. Galeano was already leaving. You have got to be kidding me! She then turned to see the eight men around her still busy and ignoring her presence for the most part. Helplessness reared its ugly head again as she sulked. I really, really hate this country right now. Stupid mentalities, stupid language, she continued in thought, letting out a defeated breath.

[Excuse me, miss, but,] a man from behind said as he patted her on the shoulder, holding up his removed smart watch. [I overheard your complaints. You can use mine for now.] He then took her left wrist and attached it to hers, held it up, and opened the active translation application. [There, good to go.] He said as his words appeared in English through holographics just like hers would have done had she not lost it. He could see through Sam’s eyes her stress levels started to drop immediately.

And to think at ANY given time ANYONE could have done this for me.

(*Empanadas Colombianas)