You Think He'd Have LearnedP26

The poor, struggling young man finally managed to crawl to the body of his brother. The last honor he could give him was to pull out the jagged piece of metal that bore out of his back. Rhod gently laid it off to the side before attempting to turn the muscular mass over. It took a few minutes as Cordin's weight put a heavy, painful strain on his wounded shoulder.

He looked at his battered and dusted face. Aside from the physical cuts and scrapes that he'd sustained from the blast, his closed eyes gave Rhod a bittersweet sense of peace. He would bury him in a moment, now the instincts of a good little soldier that had been instilled into him demanded that he find a method of communication.

For a moment his mind traveled along a tangent; there were still a few aircrafts left, how hard was it really to pilot them? His shoulder jolted, sending stinging surges through him as if to provide him with an answer. He had to agree, if only to quell the pain, it was best to let the others know what happened first and then decide.

Rhod gathered what strength he could muster, and on shaking, quivering legs he managed to stand.

He swallowed hard, able to taste in the air the destruction that expanded all around him. Most of the Captain's quarters renamed intact, apart from the devastating gap in what had once been the wall, ripped away by that menace.

The Captain's desk leaned against a chunk of charred rubble, it's drawers clinging to their sections.

Rhod could only guess, hope that his Captain's radio was in one of those drawers, and with an even greater hope, he prayed that it had not been destroyed.

He wasn't able to search through them given the position of the up-heaved desk. His heavily bleeding shoulder seared in a deep surge as the young man pulled with all his might on the weighted desk.

After a few attempts he finally coaxed it off it's resting place, a few drawers had fallen out and revealed to have nothing he could use inside them.

There was one drawer, a cabinet rather, that had not opened or even appeared to be as badly damaged as the rest of the desk. Upon further inspection, Rhod saw that a key was required to open it. His heart leaped just the slightest. This had to be it.

However that spark of relief faded almost the instant it arrived as he realized he had nothing to open it with.

He allowed his legs a chance to rest as he collapsed on the remains of the Captain's chair. For now the only thing he wanted to do was weep. Weep for his brother, for the home they had become accustomed to, even in a time of war, and for the Captain the two of them had grown to know as a father.

And just then all of his sorrow became a rage. He could blame all of this on one man. He would make him pay, he'd make that monster regret every act of evil he'd cursed the world into suffering.

His thoughts then shifted to Penelope... No wait, what had he called her? Howl. Why hadn't he seen her for what he was earlier? His brother had, and so had the Captain, why couldn't he?

He tried to think as his brother would have, remembering, though begrudgingly, the time he spent with her. He searched his mind for any instant that could have given her away. Unable to find anything in the clouds of fogged memories, combined with the screaming pain in his shoulder, he cried a whimper of defeat.

He looked to Cordin once more, chastising himself upon realizing that he would be disappointed in his little brother for worrying so much about the past. Still, he was furious. Furious with so much he couldn't quite pick apart exactly what he was more furious about. He couldn't help but wonder what that gap-toothed tyrant was doing to his Captain, torturing him no doubt.

A gleam of something shining caught in the corner of Rhod's vision. He saw the jagged shrapnel, drying itself into a sodden, black-red color.

Heaving himself up he limped over to examine it. Perhaps he could use it to break the lock. The tip of it was just thin enough to slip into the keyhole. He applied a careful concentration, ignoring with little success his seeping gash, twisting and turning the sharp metal piece into the lock.

After a few minutes he seemed to be making some progress, the silver circular ring around the lock jerked and resisted against his efforts but soon he had it all the way around. Suddenly the lock sprang out of its socket and the door broke open. Inside, like a beacon of salvation sat the Captain's radio.

Rhod instantly plucked it out and examined it for any serious damage. Thankfully it looked to be unharmed.

He flicked the tiny switch on the side of the device, breathing a heavy sigh that it remained functional. He turned the dial until the static cleared. He took another deep breath, recalling his coordinates. Placing the microphone about a hand's span away, he spoke as clear as he could.

"Resistance-Capital Four has been attacked. I repeat; Resistance-Capital Four has been attacked. Captain Byron has been captured, our base has been wiped out. As far as I'm aware I am the only survivor. Send reinforcements as soon as possible."

Rhod set the microphone down and waited for a response. The reply was almost instantaneous.

A thick, broken-English accent burst through the transmitter.

"We received your distress signal earlier, soldier, help is already on it's way. Is there any sign of the enemy returning?"

"Not that I can tell at the moment. They only wanted the Captain." Rhod replied in a stern, but saddened tone.

"Gunships and medical-carriers have been sent, they should be arriving shortly."

The transmission ended at that, resulting in a light whispering static. He slumped again, a fit of impatience and anxiety began to rise within him. What if the Warden and his army did come back? What if the reinforcements he'd just called couldn't make it in time? Or worse, what if they were attacked as well? He suddenly regretted calling for help as he had.

He turned his head to gaze at the practically untouched storage units housing his Capital's remaining trucks and carriers. Even he knew that no one would just pass up materials for the taking after spending so much time to get rid of those possessing them. He shook himself together, fretting about what could happen wasn't going to help him now.

Rhod ripped a few pieces of his tattered shirt off to tie it around his shoulder, this would have to do until his allies arrived. Now that he had something to delay the freely-flowing blood, he began to occupy his time as he waited for them to rescue him with moving aside the larger rocks and rubble away from Cordin's body. He gently stripped off the strand of bullets that wrapped around him and turned him onto his back, folding his arms across his torso.

After what seemed like hours, he had a fairly large pile and he began to outline his brother with the larger hunks, then he used the smaller ones to cover him up. Rhod placed the belt of bullets around the larger rock he intended as a sort of tombstone. Taking a step back to judge his work, he felt another twinge of sorrow overcome him.

Just then, not far off in the distance he heard the sound of propellers whirling fiercely. His first instinct was to take cover, but take cover where? He could dart behind the desk, he thought. But just as soon as that thought entered his mind it vanished, overpowered by the voice of his brother telling him not to be a coward.

He stood as tall and profound as he could, waiting for those he heard drawing closer to arrive. A glint of a deep brown and olive soon appeared before him. It wasn't but seconds later that he spotted a green star on the nose of the air carrier.

As if all the strength he had forced himself to maintain was nothing but a pitiful spasm, Rhod felt his legs fall from under him with the huge wave of relief that surrounded him.

The air carrier made for an immediate landing, a few men looking to be of a similar rank as Cordin stepped out, noticeably exhausted but resilient nonetheless. He greeted them graciously and equally exhausted and they explained that the others were waiting further along, hiding just in case of another attack.

Another few minutes to pass by and Rhod was aboard the aircraft and headed toward safety, taking one last look at the diminishing form of his brother's grave. At that moment he relayed the details of the attack and of what attacked them, though he found it hard to describe the 'X'-shaped contraption that had obliterated them in seemingly no time at all. He also told them of his suspicions that the Warden would be claiming the remains of the base for his own, and undoubtedly soon.

His rescuers were very anxious to learn more, but Rhod's weariness was effecting his ability to tell them properly. One of the men beside him unraveled the dirty makeshift bandage around his shoulder and after taking a moment to clean the wound, replaced it with a soft, fresh one.

The aircraft continued through the air, soon to regroup with the others. Though he was well on his way to a much-deserved rest, Rhod began to speak of a new-found desire of retaliation, or more appropriately, revenge.

"We could get 'em when they come to pick off our supplies!"

The two men exchanged glances before the older one replied.

"This attack has changed our plans some, quite a lot actually since we no longer have as many numbers on our side. However the forces from Cancun have been notified and they are very willing to send us as many men as we need."

"But he'll be right there! He might even come today, in a few hours! We could get 'im! We could kill 'im right now!"

"Look Private, I know the loss you're feeling and you're right to be angry but you have to think about these things. You know what he's like, it won't be him showing up to personally collect what it is he's after. He's hiding away in his hole and we have to plan carefully how to get him out."

Rhod felt what energy he had left simply drain out of him. The man was right, they couldn't risk losing any more that what they'd already lost.

"As it turns out," The man began again. "We've already set up a retaliation front just beyond the border. Once we arrive, we've only got to wait for the order."

It felt as though an overbearing weight had been lifted from his shoulders, allowing him to breathe freely, knowing every breath he took now was one for his brother. The relief was too much for him to handle on the conscious plane and with that, Rhod soon felt himself be pulled into sleep.

Away inside SuperBase, the Warden followed Penna to his counterparts office, or rather to his own room that thankfully was on the same floor. He accepted that he couldn't put off dealing with his machine any longer, though he was no more happy about it.

They said little to each other and stayed far away from the subject of Interrogations and whatever that had been to follow. The Warden didn't mind this at all, in fact he was glad Penna did well on her part to stray from even more awkwardness.

"I have to drop these off," She said, gesturing to intricately embellished door with her much cleaner notes.

"Your room should be down there somewhere."

"I think I'll be able to recognize it." He replied.

Penna nodded, offering him a cheerfully-fatigued smile before turning to bang on the door with a hateful scowl. The Warden didn't stick around to see if there was anyone who would answer, heading in a partial sprint down the hall.

She knocked on the door again, with an even harder force. The door swung open to reveal a glowing and gap-toothed smirk tucked under amber glasses.

"Oh good Howl, I thought you were going to keep me waiting. Come in, come in." The Future-Warden, still brimming, almost overflowing with his self-righteous succession led her into his office.

Before she had a chance to speak, he pointed to a mess of monogrammed stationary, pens and such that had littered around his desk.

"Be a dear and help me clean up, won't you?"

Penna held her tongue, though she shoved her notes into his chest as she passed him. She knelt down, facing him as she stacked the sheets of paper into a messy pile, gathering up the utensils last in one handful. She dropped them on the cold, black-metal surface as she stood, resulting in a light clatter.

He glazed over her handwritten findings, nodding along to some pieces of information happily, others he examined with a look of concern.

"Well this is certainly disappointing. Interesting, but disappointing." He groaned, making his way to his desk. He continued to look over the notes, using their excuse to keep himself distracted from her glare.

"I expected you to find more than just the location of these few camps. Are you sure you dug deep enough? You're not slacking off on your duties, are you Howl?"

"It's all there." She lied, though keeping her tone as steady as possible; not entirely defeated, but not willing to fight with him now.

"If I had missed anything, he would have died long before I gave him his new past. The fact that he's alive as you so wanted him to be should be all the proof you need."

"Oh I'm not talking about... What name did you give him? David? No, I'm talking about you, Howl." The Future-Warden touched his fingertips together, his efforts to keep his grin from stretching any wider weren't making any difference.

"You seem to be quite distracted lately, and I suppose that is partly to blame on my behalf--"

"Apology accepted, now I'd really like to go."

"Ah, ah. Not so fast." He held up his hand to stop her from making a break for his open door. She sighed heavily and began to tap her foot. The other Warden slowly rose from his seat, taking heavy strides across his office only to plant himself firmly in her way.

"You're forgetting something Howl," As he spoke, the other pulled from his pocket what looked to be a recording of some kind; a little black box no wider than her pen.

"You are forgetting that I had mentioned before you left that you would be under heavy surveillance. Ah, you remember it now don't you? Good, what else do you remember? Do you remember the details of this little attack plan the Mexican's have against me? I'm sure Captain, no no, Colonel David knows, yes? It's strange, isn't it, that you did not include this in your notes?"

Penna remained silent for a moment, expecting him to continue. She couldn't quite explain to herself the feeling she was having. Part of her felt that cold, numbing feeling of being caught red-handed. Another part of her felt... Good. She felt as if she had finally done something good, even though it hadn't worked out. Even though it might lead to those consequences she told herself she was okay with. As the other stood there, determined to get an answer from her, Penna formed a smirk of her own.

"Actually sir, I don't think it's that strange at all."

The seconds that followed were far too much of a blur for her to comprehend fully. The Future-Warden took a fierce and choking hold of her collar and began to drag her into the hall. Biting, kicking, and if she had been able to find her voice she would have screamed. He paid no attention to the teeth-marks she was leaving in his leather glove and as they approached the stairwell, the other Warden kicked open the door and pulled her down the endless flight of stairs. Not once did she tell him to let her go, she only continued to bite and claw away as his hand and fingers until a door marked 'Observations' was kicked open.

There was no time to flick on the light to see where he was going, though he knew the layout of the room quite well. With his free, slightly-less-chewed hand he fumbled around in the dark for the familiar feel of cool steel bars. His eyes sparked with pride that provided the only light the still struggling Penna had been able to see as he found just what he was looking for.

The sound of groaning metal swinging open, the feel of herself being thrown against the hard wall, followed by the sound of rhythmic beeping to signal her cell's successful lock had told her well enough where she was even before the slam of the door echoed throughout chilled, darkened laboratory.