The air was much more frigid and drier throughout the floors below, especially the second from the top where medical services were being issued to all the late-night visitors. In one of the rooms from which a pair of EM techs had just exited sat Sam, upright in her bed, left shoulder completely shrouded in bandaging that doubled as a brace for her slung left arm pinned against her chest. She remained there in silence, emotionless as the doors closed, accompanied only by the occasional sounds of passing feet down the hallway and the soft glows emitted by the various medical equipment screens that surrounded her, one of which was for the pain killers administered intravenously.

What have I done? Who did I think I was?

…

Flashbacks of the manner in which Isaiah stared into her soul, the way Taneesha coldly stared back as if she felt betrayed by her, the way her mother last looked down on her the last time they spoke in Bogota, all seemed to speak the same message to her. She was to blame for all of this. She was in over her head, and she was too stubborn to walk away and stay in her lane.

She knew was in over her head, and this time, the thought was the most painful it had ever been since her trip to Earth began. But the pain, this time, was different than it felt when she was the victim. It was like she was the perpetrator, but the pain killers had her mental fog just thick enough she couldn’t think clear enough to do more than dwell on that thought. And being cold and alone as she was, the thought and the pain associated with it became more pronounced.

Long, cold, shivering minutes passed, knees curling up as she wrapped her right arm around them. Where is everyone? I don’t even hardly remember ending up here. Hands beginning to tremble, she starts to reach for the blanket they provided with her that was bunched up at her feet. Sebastian didn’t even look at me right last time I saw him… when he saved me… oh God… she thought as a tear started to well up. Why did I tell him all of that?! What if he tells others what I told him?!

The sliding open of the automated door caused her to jump, but quickly breathed a sigh of relief to see Danielle walking in, noting her left arm, too, was slung and bound in place. I thought I was going to be stuck here alone all night. “Where is everyone?”

Sheesh, girl looks like absolute shit. It took some effort to return the question with a smile, unaware of how weak it appeared to Sam as she took a seat next to her bed. “Protocol,” she winced as she adjusted her posture as to minimize the pain shooting from her left side. “They have to answer questions with the crisis prevention team. I was done first… thought I’d stop by.”

Crisis prevention…? We had such a division? “But the crisis already happened. I don’t get why they-”

“-This is an ongoing crisis, Sam. We are trying to make sure things don’t get worse than they already are. We lost a lot of men today, and it turns out we may have lost a real doozie with Sur being K.I.A. The last thing Infinity needs is bad response, bad cleanup, and bad publicity.” She could see that things weren’t registering too well for Sam, judging by her pursed lips and her crumpled brow as she looked down at her knees. “I know you went through too much today. I think that was all too much to handle for you. It’s best that you, you know…”

…No! Don’t tell me that kind of bullshit! Don’t start sounding like my mother! Her mind suddenly began bogging down with self-destructive thoughts, drowning out Danielle’s continued advice as she elaborated without realizing it fell on deaf ears. Why is it everyone thinks I can’t handle what’s going on! It started with mom, then dad, then Sebastian, then Zay, now Ms. Norris?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Is the whole world going to just tell me to shut the fuck up and go back home where they think I belong!?

“Hey… hey… are you listening? Because I can let the CP team handle this alone,” Danielle huffed, catching Sam’s attention. She hid her soured emotions upon the way Sam reacted in insult with her demeanor. The shit I wish I could say. “Sam, we all lost people we can’t get back today. We saw things we can’t unsee. I need you to be ready to make a few decisions for when CP comes by in the next few minutes. Can you listen for just a moment?”

“You want me to go home,” the words slipped from her mouth, unable to contain it internally. She didn’t care that her emotions were getting the best of her as her stomach started to knot up, bearing convictions that her near-death and death-witnessing experiences granted her at least that much.

Danielle lowered her head into her open hand, massaging her brow as she took a slow breath. “Sam, what is it you want to do?”

… What?

“Your father will get around to talking to you about that anyway, once he’s cleared.” She slowly looked back up to her, finding her visibly confounded. “What do you want to do from here?”

“Director,” she started to respond with what she thought was a confident answer, ultimately choking on the false momentum of the fleeting thought. Her hand she had raised to speak paused where it hovered, slowly closing it, retracting it to her bedside.

.

Is this what I really want?

.

Isaiah’s cold, judgmental stare roared back to the surface of her active thoughts. The euphoric rush that came from severing that one sword-bearing arm off of the Samael pierced right through it as if she swung a sword of her own right through it. Then, the memories of the nauseating, disorienting pulses that ran through her just before and after those moments shook her back to the present. Her eyes scanned Danielle’s face without thought, seeing someone who had faced the skills of pilots perhaps ten times more adept than the Cloaks she encountered. She came in when many more units had them surrounded, yet, when Sam emerged from the top of that apartment complex, only one remained. She did all that, didn’t she? What else does she have to speak of?

Feelings she hadn’t had cross her conscious not once this entire operation started to flicker back to life.

I’m looking at what I want to be.

“I want to be a Harbinger. One like you.”

“Sam,” Danielle spoke in an attempt to stop what she didn’t expect as she sat up straight.

“No,” she stoutly objected, matching posture and energy. “You tampered with the Antares settings. You did that, didn’t you!”

“Wh- how did you figure-” she responded aghast, but quickly straightened up after a realization. “But what does that even matter? I just did that to try to help you survive that matchup!”

“The same shit that makes anyone pass out? You knew I could do it, didn’t you!”

“You need to settle down,” she spoke through her suppressed desire to walk away by this point, leaning forward as if to caringly reach for Sam’s shoulder.

“You would do the same if you were me right now,” she reacted with a shake of her head, squirming back against the frame of the bed as if to avoid contact. “You said ‘what do you want to do’? Well, that’s exactly what I want to do.”

“You can’t just claim that title,” Danielle retreated with a defeated chuckle. “You plan on explaining that foolishness to your mother and father?” But she instantly regretted the question, seeing how unfazed she was, still burning with intent. “It’s not a position, it’s not a job- damn it, Sam, it’s not even a program anymore for crying out loud!”

“But it’s what everyone around me was, and it’s what I am capable of considering myself one day regardless of whether or not it’s a program anymore.” She could sense Danielle’s patience beginning to wear thin, but after going this far, she knew she couldn’t stop without feeling self-betrayal. “I felt I was on the right path when I stayed in Colombia the first time I was offered a way home. I don’t regret a thing ending up here.”

“I thought I could make you see your worthlessness out here, but… you are too stubborn to disappear, to quit like you always did everything else!”

The flashback sparked that rage once more as she slammed her fist on the bedside. “I’m tired of being told to quit when I have a right to everything laid out in front of me! I can and will make the difference my family is holding me back from being!”

Danielle lowered her gaze in disappointment. Is that so? “Are you ready to lose everything?”

Sam was so blinded by her emotions she had failed to notice the sudden somberness of the words uttered. “What do you mean, lose everything?”

“You only see what’s in front of you. I think you need a good rest and some time to think things over before you make such a rash decision, Sam, and I mean that,” she calmly replied as she straightened up to leave. “But before I go, CP will ask about your experiences with Ms. Sur. Understand that she left us so much data behind to work with I can’t even begin to explain how sickening it makes me that we let her die for us. And then understand that everything Mr. Silva taught you was only what I taught you, don’t ever bring his name up. Act as if he didn’t exist. And… that’s fine because… it’s no longer a lie,” her voice trailed off with the holding back of the tears she was already languished from fighting off all evening. Even though I refuse to think that’s how he went down… “You need to make that kind of decision after you think about what you will lose. Because, as I said, you will lose people around you, either by abandonment or death.” With that last word, she began stepping out of the room without looking back, letting out a long sigh that felt like it dragged the weight of the day along with it.

Sam’s energy couldn’t sustain itself after hearing that dagger of a departing note. Danielle had already passed through the door by the time she could even muster up a thought in response. If she’s talking about Mr. Silva the way I think she means… is that why he hasn’t returned yet? Her head then began to shake in denial. But I already lost my brother. I can’t… I can’t even mention his name to anyone, not only because who would believe me, but this would make me nothing more than a liability if they did… and they’d remove me from the next operations… The next thought that flickered across her mind felt like a slap across the face as her heart sank into her stomach. Sebastian! Why did I tell him all of that- shit! Don’t tell me you said anything! Please! Her heart raced even faster as she saw several men and women approaching in white coats with large ID tags assuming it was Crisis Prevention. It was too late to try to do anything to stop what she feared most, now.

.

.

Other Crisis Prevention staff members, however, had already started their interviewing processes in a room a few halls down the way. Sebastian was standing against the wall outside in the cold, sterile hallway just across from the closed doors as he flipped through news articles on his mobile. It was a rare moment for him, keeping the projection mode off, awkwardly using his thumb to scroll around until he found the headlines he was searching for. Holding the screen closer, he spotted “First Secretary of State’s daughter Taneesha Sur reported as one of the many civilians killed in today’s conflict.”

So much had eaten away at his soul that day, unable to refrain from letting out a dry chuckle. [Many civilians?]

He glanced at the first body paragraph before swiping over to the related articles section, seeing the top of the list read: “Local heroes reportedly stop Union-born Harbinger pilot Danielle Norris.”

His head continued to shake. [Forget all these liars. I can’t find anything about this… Zay? Zay Knight was his name?]

The doors then opened as he quickly put his mobile in his pocket, looking up to see Kerry walking out as he took notice of the three CP members seated at the back of the cramped, temporarily set-up conference room. He forgot how terrible they must have all looked after everything, reminded by the bags under her eyes, the splotched bloodstains around her wrists and knees, and the emptiness in her gaze.

As her eyes then met his, just the slightest spark of life came back enough to speak with a forced smile. “Hey, when did you get here?”

He attempted to return the gesture with his own. “About ten minutes ago. They must ask many questions, huh.”

The doors behind her shut as she felt the urge to speak her mind. “This is completely inhumane. They can’t ask what they asked after we saw what we saw,” she spoke with sudden determination mixed with suppressed anger. “If they don’t back off of us, I swear I’m about to cause a crisis right here and now,” she continued as she started to tremble from the emotional outpour.

Sebastian could see the tears of frustration, devastation, and utter exhaustion well up already as he did the only thing his nature suggested he do in such a situation, opening an empathetic arm as she took the welcomed hug. “I will see what I can get from them,” he calmly replied, trying to be the strength in the moment as he noted her remaining where she was under his arm, seemingly fighting back those same tears. “I have lots of information now, and I feel I have many questions prepared to ask them. I think I have some fight remaining, maybe…” he continued as he gently patted the back of her shoulder a few times, eyeing the doors that still remained closed. “Maybe throw something back at them for us.”

“Thanks, Sebastian,” she spoke back with mustered strength as she backed away, hearing the doors behind them now open. “Sorry I couldn’t do much myself.” She then warmly placed a hand to his arm with a smile that came much more easily. “Good luck. I’ll see you in the commons.”

“Thank you,” he nodded with a grin in return before stepping into the makeshift conference room.

“Will be waiting with Andre for you!” he heard her add in before the doors closed. He then took the motioned hands as his cue to take his seat at the middle of the table, across from the three CP staff members.

“Sebastian Navarre of Bogota, Colombia,” the younger man in the middle began to speak in a low-toned, droning fashion. “In active voluntary service since June. Assigned to Kerrington Melancon’s special operations group overseen by Director Danielle Norris with intent to complete a s-”

“What is the significance of this meeting?” Sebastian flatly interrupted as he raised his hands off of his lap as he softly suggested his already built-up exasperation.

“You engaged with top priority targets this morning,” the woman to his right stepped in with a stronger tone, not acknowledging Sebastian’s deflection. “Do you know of the technology you faced?”

“Do I know of what?” he answered with still-increasing frustration.

“Do you know of the technology you faced this morning,” she continued with her own impatience, pointing to a screen the man on the left brought up from their holographic image-displaying tablet. The pictures showed an uncloaked Samael, but something looked different about this one. The one he saw up close didn’t look this damaged.

“I saw something similar to this. But why do you ask me what do I know? Of course, I know nothing but the fact they are dangerous.”

“You saw these with your own eyes, correct?” she persisted. “We have a situation, and with these targets on the run, we have to know what you learned. What information do you have to tell us right now?”

Flashes of the images still burned in his head, seeing Sam twice land hits but with each missing the mark, allowing both Cloaks to get away. He was still convinced that it should have been him behind those cockpit doors, but he digressed. [No… Now is not the time.] “I don’t know what to tell you. What do you mean, information?”

“Anything. You were the one ready to change the topic to this, am I wrong?” she flatly replied, unknowingly tapping her pen on her tablet, giving away her irritation.

Sebastian tried hard to not roll his eyes, preparing to give her anything to move things to where he could ask what he had been holding onto for the proper time. “Two Cloaks. Those, right? They got away. They all used shields that were like our shields, but they broke easily when hit by large rounds. Their tanks, also, had special… aiming parts. They could aim high up… to… take down the carriers-”

“-Navarre,” the man in the middle coldly and rudely interrupted with a hand up, “tell us who you saw. Who did you see come from that last Cloak?” He saw the hurt and the conflict in his eyes, knowing he asked the right man this time for the answer that had evaded him all evening. “Who - did - you - see?”

“How do you know I saw anyone?”

He remained thoroughly unamused by his stalling. “We pulled a torturing knife from your bag, and we assume that blood- Knight’s cauterized and fresh blood, that was all over it came from that wound we stitched up. Tell me, Navarre, who was that? What did he or she look like? Give us anything.”

[Torturing knife? What in the hell?...] He then closed his eyes for a short moment, putting his thoughts back to where he was headed. [Whatever, I know what they want, and I don’t trust these people.] “I only remember seeing a man, white, had either brown or black hair… it was raining so I don’t know which is the real color. He stepped away for a second, so, I shot. I missed him, however. I don’t know anyone on their side, what do you expect?” The look in his eyes over the span of that last question rivaled the impatience of the staff.

“We have to do everything we can to learn of this enemy. The situation is highly likely to spill into this region and that is a crisis we cannot afford to endure at this rate.”

[A~nd that’s where the name comes from, I see.]

“Therefore, we need you to be more truthful with us, more… complete with your responses,” he finished with his hands clasped, hunching over the table.

[Wait,] he thought with a sudden sense of panic, scrambling to conjure up a response to an accusation he wasn’t ready for. [Is this standard procedure?] “I told you, I saw that man near Sam, I shot at him maybe… ten bullets? I didn’t hit him. I wasn’t ready for that recoil. Deimar rifles are popular for their bad kick.”

“Mr. Navarre,” he said before letting out a long nasal sigh. “Nevermind, we will save that question for Ms. Knight regardless.” He saw the offended reaction from him but remained calm in his continuation: “The other thing to ask, and we have time, of course… do you feel you could have prevented more losses if you never lost your LTAC?”

[These sons of bitches are reading my mind. Was I bugged? Was Sam bugged?! No way in hell!... no time for that, either.] “I was sad to lose mine. Of course, I would never wish to sit on the bench. What kind of question is that?” he shot back with a frown. “Actually, why are you insisting that I am… what… you think I am lying? Who would I cover up with lies for… on their side? The side who killed my family!? I came HERE to capture or kill those Cloak pilots! Whose side are you on, making me seem the suspicious one?!”

The woman from earlier jumped back in without hesitation: “Don’t jump to conclusions here, now, Mr. Navarre. We appreciate your time, but we would appreciate your honesty more. Again, this is not to accuse, this is because this information is of absolute, utmost importance. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand,” he sarcastically replied. “And you? Do you understand that I. Don’t. Know. Anything!?”

“Let him go, this is a waste of fucking time,” she said to the side under her breath to the man next to her.

“Before I go,” Sebastian pressed on, “I have one question.”

The man put up a hand as he stood up. “We don’t take questions. Please proceed out of the room so we may move on to the next interview. Thank you for your time.”

.

.

Sebastian entered through a door at the end of a sterile, empty dormitory hallway that led to the crewmen’s commons. He saw a plethora of seating options but noted the room was void of anyone but Kerry and Andre who were seated at a semicircular sofa, both sprawled out half conscious.

“Hey, did they berate you, too?” Andre inquired, picking his chin up but stayed slouched where he sat. His appearance was as disheveled as the rest, still covered here and there with mud and blood stains and had the eye bags and scrapes to match.

“Berate?” he answered as he sat across from them on a similarly shaped sofa, finding a comfortable posture.

“Did they give you a hard time? They all seemed like assholes, and the more me and Kerry here think about it the more pissed off we got,” he restated as he shook his head.

“Ah, that? Yes… and yes.” He took in a deep breath, thinking about how he didn’t get to ask a few key things that bugged him. “I wanted to ask about Ms. Sur. They talk about crisis things, and preventing them. They didn’t mention anything to me about her. Only other things that I couldn’t figure out how they knew to ask. It was like-”

“-Was like they read our damn minds, am I right?” Kerry jumped in, followed by a cough. Sitting upright, she leaned over and put her hands on her knees to finish: “Especially that one bitch, got me fucked up asking me about me and Andre holding Sur at gunpoint yesterday. How the fuck was we supposed to know that she would defect?” The fire that was in her didn’t last long due to the mix of not just her exhaustion but coming back to Earth with the notion this was a person who died saving them that she was talking about. “I mean, rest her soul, but still…”

“Well, shit. All we can do is sit here and bitch and moan, waiting for what?” Andre added on as he too started to stare at the floor. “So, what were you trying to ask?”

“If there was any crisis to stop and Sur was so important, why didn’t they send proper rescue teams? Why did Sur have to do it herself?”

The two were taken aback by Sebastian’s simple ponderance, remaining silent for a few moments in thought.

His fists began tightening. “They sent carriers for LTAC crews, but they wouldn’t send a small rescue craft for five or six people? And they want to ask us how to help prevent a crisis? That makes me more angry than anything. So many people now have died because of Hexa’s bad planning. I am starting to question my place.”

The three didn’t notice Danielle had just joined them seconds ago. “Don’t do that, Navarre. Not yet.”