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Isaiah was still inside his truck, tucked away inside a dark location where the only light visible was that coming from his mobile and his watch. “Go ahead and pull them all the way back,” he spoke into his watch as he read a stream of information coming through one of the screens he had on display. “Evacuate the wounded… full retreat. Don’t let the National Guard get involved.”

His eyes kept darting back toward the other screen, showing the reports on their targets’ condition: Samantha Knight, Sebastian Navarre, Kerrington Melancon, Andre Nguyen, Alexander Knight. Each of the names were with empty check boxes next to them. He let out a long sigh, closing the window to that one screen. “We move out regardless. They will be in enough of a disarray after this.”

And I almost feel as if someone was purposefully standing in our way. This went far too wrong to make any sense for that not to be the case.

“Isaiah,” his earpiece went off as Marian chimed in, cueing him to disconnect from his other channel. “Rex is on the line. Do you want him or should I do the honors of telling him to bloody fuck off?”

“I’ll handle this, thanks,” he replied with another long sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back in his seat. “I kind of saw this coming, so I’m already prepared for his worst.”

“We still move out, I assume?”

“Of course. I’ll finish things on my end once I’ve confirmed everyone unloaded and checked in safely.”

“And one last thing,” she continued with heightened concern. “I never found any trace of Ms. Rodger’s presence yet found too much proof of her arrival. And… she’s not anywhere near Marikina. Stay well hidden.”

“She’s not an assassin nor does she possess any fighting skills. I am worried about a lot but definitely not about her- in fact, the thought that she’s not anywhere near the Galatine has me on the contrary more relieved than anything.”

“The Galatine may not be held within their base. That’s what I am afraid of.”

There was a long pause between the two, strongly hinting which was Isaiah’s biggest worry. “I was afraid of that possibility. Hence, we have no choice but to move ASAP.”

“Again, stay well hidden, and I will continue to keep my eyes open. Also, something is fishy here with the timing and coincidence of everything going wrong. Don’t be surprised if Rex is behind this somehow, taking the meaning of ‘cutting off the nose to spite one’s face’ to a whole new level.”

“Understood.” He clicked his earpiece once, then proceeded to wait until the expected call from Rex came up on his watch. “Alright, tell me you can’t handle progress at a high pace without telling me you can’t handle progress at a high pace, Rex.”

“You blind fool,” Rex’s distorted voice was quick to respond with apparent disapproval. “Your little stunt you pulled- and clearly failed, already has the people turning to Infinity. Check the feed showing the demonstrations going on both at Memorial Circle and at the Naval port.”

Isaiah already knew that would be one of the short-term outcomes, as painful as it was, but knew to bite his tongue.

“Now, at this rate, we may never get the change in power we needed AND your little party from Nanning will show up with maximum resistance thanks to you finding a way to let Hexa’s star pilots survive.”

Isaiah waited for a few seconds after Rex finished that sentence to make sure he would be able to speak uninterrupted. “You grossly underestimate the potential we have with pilots all hand-trained by Sly.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“I can’t trust you, Rex, and I never did,” Isaiah calmly continued. “You really thought a change in power here would make a difference. The people are too nationalistic, too united in solidarity for their Charter Change, not joining an alliance. This shows your glaring lack of vision and how out of touch you are with the people you watch. The Filipinos treasure their strength as a nation, not as a cog in the China-sphere’s system. Do you really think they’ll just line up and follow commands like a good little dog once the current president is unseated and China starts to make their moves?”

“Your moves will create a burning hatred for the mainland. You will create future deaths in droves. The Confederacy… the Alliances… will never form again if everyone pours their distrust together against one of the biggest powers we need to be restored.”

“You’re a fool to think the long road will grind itself to victory,” Isaiah spoke back with equal strength as he leaned forward, ready to disconnect the call. “If it worked before, it will work again. We have no time to waste hoping the people embrace their new place in the coming reconstructing of the old alliance. It has to form once more, and it will form overnight.” He then clicked his headset button with a huff as he shook his head.

Should have told him to just bloody fuck off like Marian suggested. That was a waste of time I could have spent continuing surveillance.

He then got his mind back on track, reopening the channel he had open earlier as he reached for his clipboard he had in the seat across from him. “Continue updating the status of the cargo, and scrap the demo plans. Will reschedule and resolve some time after this next coordinated attack.”

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Armed hovercraft marked with Philippine Nation Guard insignias hummed along as they circled Infinity’s Marikina Base, passing through and around the several columns of smoke as the fire crew below wrapped up their business. Police had the whole block circled off, and hundreds had flocked to witness the spectacle and its aftermath. Such scale of an attack had never happened on their soil, and the level of shock would peak well beyond what it had been during several violent spillovers from sporadic clashes between armed pushbacks of the past against Hexa’s present forces. But judging from their faces, they looked on with concern rather than excitement.

Inside the complex’s hangar wing, which was incidentally one of the least damaged areas, prep crews and director staff were scurrying around as pilots stood by inside their LTAC units. Nearly a full dozen remained in their pit spaces, operating systems active but kept their drive systems off.

Sam was the only one not in the area, instead seated next to her father inside one of the control rooms that overlooked the hangar. “I still think I should be out there,” she persisted with a massaging of the back of her neck. Her hands weren’t quivering as they were before, but she still felt weak, drained, and sore. The only thing different from earlier was the blood on her face and fingers, having been cleaned off just moments ago.

“I avoided the topic in front of the others,” Al replied as he kept his eyes glued to the screen in front of him at one of the station’s desks. He had only just sat down recently as well, having come from a relentless flurry of verbal exchanges as none of the communication lines had been working since the attack. “But I called for medical personnel to bring a scanner by to check on that concussion procedure of yours. I don’t know if the mesh patch held out properly or if the glutamate inhibitors are still in place, but something’s off if you ask me.”

Sam wanted to deny the fact she might be sidelined for a long time after hearing that, and knew no matter what fuss she might bring about, it would be instantly silenced with facts she had no rational counter for. I wonder what the others are thinking… me just sitting here… safe while they wait for the impending…-

“Hey, wait,” she blurted out as she slowly started putting some of the situational pieces together, unable to comprehend much of anything earlier. “Can you explain to me why we know something’s coming later today?”

“A girl paid me a visit moments before she took- Oh, that’s right,” Al remembered mid-sentence that he never asked her something that was on his mind and wanted to ask once things settled down a bit. He put his hands down and away from the key panel, looking over at her with concern. “So, listen, as I was negotiating my way out of the rubble from that blast earlier, God knows how most of us managed to survive that, by the way, a man helped me up to my feet.”

Oh, so THAT was why Dad talked to me through his communicator.

“To keep this short, he told me to stop worrying about you, and that he could help figure out where you were and to get you to a safer location.” He cleared his throat, leaning forward. “Said his name was Devin Yanga.”

“So, he did end up with you,” Sam responded in a manner that unsettled him. And it wasn’t because she was calm, it was because of something else that had him upset that she was so calm.

“Sam, he had a device that communicated with you wirelessly, and without LOS. … Sam,” he repeated her name as he noted her expression never changed as if she didn’t get the hint. “The jamming. It’s is still up.”

It was after those few words that took some of the air out her. She finally realized what it was he was onto and what she got busted with. And although the root cause was completely different than earlier, her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in as expected. And in that same instant, the only face she felt she could turn to for help and support popped up. “Dad, no, hold on- that’s not it,” she spoke with an acted gaze out of the window. “I have to go talk to Sebastian before he loads up,” she fumbled the continued response as she awkwardly stood up to leave. And it made her queasy as it went on.

I can’t believe I’m saying this after earlier. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Sam,” Al huffed, stopping what he was doing to turn and look with disappointment. “You can only avoid the most important details for so long, but I get it- but! If you have to go talk to the boy, go apologize and be grateful to someone who actually gives a real shit about you and your safe being, please?”

The truthful dagger hit home hard, nearly stopping her in her tracks, but she knew she couldn’t hang around and pushed on stubbornly.

“And please be careful walking around. You aren’t fully recovered yet, clearly, and you also have to get checked out soon so hurry back!” Al finished with concern, watching her leave out of the room.

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●　● Malate District, Manila, The Philippines

Throngs of protestors filled the street and open areas surrounding the National Guard’s main office that sat at the coast’s edge downtown; the smoke was thick, the droning mix of shouts and chants, and the wall of onlookers dozens thick surrounded the whole scene, blocking traffic and adding to the chaos.

Just a few blocks away, an older ride-share car pulled up to a corner of an intersection and came to a stop. A female in a lightweight hoodie pulled over her head with only sunglasses and the bill of a ballcap were visible turned to pay, uttering the words: “Five thousand here, and five thousand more if you hang here for ten minutes for me. Highly doubting the police are concerned with parking tickets today.”

The driver looked on momentarily in disbelief before shrugging his shoulders, figuring the pay as was justified any risk of him sitting there longer than his schedule was ever supposed to allow. “Why not. Sure, go ahead,” he replied with a smile and a nod as she exited the vehicle.

She casually strolled up to the rear of the blockade of onlookers, scouting the area for a gap in the throng to slip through. Spying one finally, she quietly snuck through and found a set of old cars next to a dump truck all parked side by side just up ahead. As she got halfway there, she was able to catch a glimpse of the opposite end of the clearing, seeing banners hung from the traffic light poles that read “Igalaw mo ang tamad mong pwet!” next to another that read “Infinity’s blood is on your hands!” The pattern was quickly picked up on, noting there had been an evident shift in loyalty, likely due to the recent unofficial agreements between Infinity and Tyrus’ circle.

That’s a radical change based on the information I was fed the other day, she thought to herself after pausing for that one second before continuing on. She worked her way up to the top of the car and stepped over to the next carefully, finally making her way up and climbing to the top of the dump truck. From there she could get a perfect view of the entire chaotic scene.

This was supposed to be a demo set up to piss off the locals, not get them to rally together. Either Rex’s party fucked up royally, or this is something even the Underground here couldn’t fully calculate.

She continued to observe the movement, the chants, and the clashes between riot control as she continued in thought: Almost all of these are aimed at the NG’s lack of action to help us out with the recent mess rather than the call for forcing out Infinity forces. So much in support of Hexa… I wonder who turned this tide. She then shook off her curiosity, focusing back on the original goal she set for herself, taking out a monocular and set her sights to the sea. After a few moments she spotted a cargo freighter in the distance that caught her full attention.

Ugh. I knew they’d hire idiots to do such a simple job, and someone on our side fucked up, too, it seems. This could’ve gone down terribly.

She reached over inside her hood and clicked a button on her earpiece, and having been away from the jamming zone she established a connection with someone.

“I knew they would reroute on the down low,” she spoke in a lowered voice, holding her hood over her mouth to shield out some of the noise coming from outside. And then with an adjustment of her settings, the display now showed relatively hollow cargo crates on top of the vessel, drawing a frown. “Bingo. Multiples moving on the NG Port. Cancel the previous targets, I repeat, cancel previous targets and switch to the now acquisitioned units. Moving back to rally point. Emilia out.”

And this proves it. I refuse to ever let myself get involved in other’s messes, but since I have no choice, I want to not feel like more of a bad guy for doing it. And as she turned to head back, she paused with a hint of worry, looking over the crowds. Apologies in advance, everyone.