A Meeting with the Enemy: Chapter Two

The soldiers lifted me into a truck with the other men who lay out cold beside me, which I also feigned. After a moment, I felt the truck continue on along the road, which happened to be bumpy after years of abandonment. It was a lot of effort to prevent my brows from scrunching together because of the rocking.

A few minutes later, I was carried by the arms and legs into what felt like a cavern, with different voices shouting left and right. My back landed onto a hard bunk and another was pulled to my right into which another person, groaning in pain, creaked into. It was quiet beyond where the entrance  was, but I still strained my hearing.

I sensed no one within a three-foot radius around me and opened my eyes. A tent ceiling, dome-shaped. Medics running around, or helping people with injuries, and many unconscious. One doctor arrived to check on the groaning patient beside me and as he bent down with his back towards me, I sat up, slipped past him, and joined the rushing mix of other doctors, nurses, and injured cadets.

No one reacted towards me, not even when I stepped out of the tent.

It was the plaza that I came out into, the dirty plaza that was the center of the city. Davius, Harrison, and I spar here once in a while, and we were also the first to find out about these guys setting up camp before hiding all over the city. Right now, I could see a group of people that were gathered in a circle at the center of the space in the middle of the plaza. Captured members of Rebels, of course. I recognized the faces of most of them.

A pebble rolled over to me at that moment, and I looked in the direction it came from. A small figure stood out from the group. A girl, by the shape of her figure. I don't recognize her - rather, I don't think there was anyone from the Legacy with her same physique. A stranger.

Someone who seemingly knows me, too.

I circled the hostages once before making my way to the girl, timing my movements in order to appear inconspicuous. When I reached her, she spoke first:

"Why are you here?"

I considered answering. But then I also remembered that I don't know this girl. I was about to counter with a question of her identity when a voice barked, "Attention!" and I stood stiffly, turning to the owner of the voice.

The man who was the leader was marching out of the largest tent, the one with formalwear. Now that I was closer up, I recognized his face: Colin Manning.

The eldest son of this country's president. You could say he's handsome, with well-sculpted features of a face, tall. But the way he moved was not as graceful as he appeared; rather he sort of stalked over into a spot where everyone could see him, scowling.

In response to his appearance, those amongst the hostages began to whisper to each other in awe. I kind of understand their surprise, too, because it was rare that someone of the Manning family would appear in public just to handle a mission that involved weapons, which was usually beneath them.

But that doesn't mean that they went about without bodyguards. The two men who stood beside him also stood out, not in the manner of clothing. One was a tall slender man in all black, a lighter modification of the black military garb, and he was visibly unarmed. The other was a guy my age wearing the military garb, only no helmet, and with his weapons being three guns strapped to his waist, but what was most interesting about this person was that his hair was a brilliant bright orange.

Colin Manning cleared his throat before speaking, "Is this all you can capture of the Rebels Organization? As it is, these people would only be enough to make up some tiny vigilante group!"

"They are the Rebels Organization, sir," said the tall man wearing black. "You should have expected that this will be tougher than we hoped. They had a hacker who took down all our Dispatchers, too, which halved our troops."

Colin tipped his nose upwards. "This was simply more complicated than I thought it would be. That's why you should follow my orders when the planes arrived yesterday to destroy the city without my having to announce our arrival to them."

"They are the Light Master's orders, sir."

What? I narrowed my eyes and slowly walked over towards them, making sure their view of me became shielded by another soldier who stood at attention in front of me.

"The Light Master's not here and that leaves me in control," Colin snorted. "I am the commander in charge."

"And I think that the Light Master is correct," the man countered steadily. "Refrain from being reckless."

With an expression a cross between a scowl and a pout, Colin finally shrugged. "You're only lucky you're Father's dog. I'd have you killed in a flash, Langer."

Big words as his son, then, I thought. Not that I don't think Colin wasn't capable of it. He was known as a prodigy pilot of a fighter jet, and that was a complicated job someone with his status wouldn't touch. With status and skill, he'd easily deserve his current position.

The man, Langer, inclined his head slightly, politely, showing no expression on his face. It wasn't clear if he was worried about those words, or if he couldn't care less.

Beside him, the orange-haired guy began to look around cautiously. I stopped moving and stood still like the other soldiers. Had he noticed me?

"What's wrong?" asked Langer.

"I feel like we're being watched," the kid muttered.

Yeah, it was me.

A woman's screams suddenly reached us as three men dragged her and a small kid who clung onto her. Or rather, she clung onto him; the kid was limp and bleeding on the leg.

"Someone! Someone, help him!" she screamed, wrestling the men as best she could with the kid in her arms.

I stared at her, horrified, which was also the same reaction of those who had been captured. The woman was either an idiot, or they got in an accident and our medics, particularly Hestia, were unable to save the kid's life for some reason and she panicked. By her attitude, it definitely wasn't Davius inciting a bait to give the ones captured here a chance to escape.

She was definitely one of us Rebels, though. I'd seen her kid out and about and I know them at a distance.

"What's happened to the kid?" Colin asked loudly, walking over. Langer looked as though he wanted to say something, but held his tongue.

"Sir, she's asking us to take her son to a hospital in the Alpha Sector to save his life," one of the soldiers replied robotically.

"But you won't have money, would you?" Colin smirked, and the woman flinched. "It'd be complicated if we don't get anything out of it?"

She hesitated, then hesitantly said, as though she realized now who she was talking to, "I...I'll do anything."

Colin snapped out one leg; he kicked the kid against the woman and she hit the ground with a yelp. "In front of me, you will speak with absolute loyalty!"

Screaming, the woman turned madly to her son, shouting a name.

"He can't hear you, anyway, since he's already dead!" Colin sneered.

I unlatched the helmet from my head and sprinted straight towards Colin before releasing it. The helmet got him in the face.

The movement lasted a few seconds that it must have been surprising to the nearby soldiers until their captain was down on the ground with his turn in screaming.

"Rampage!" shouted a voice from outside the circle around the hostages, and out of nowhere, around the tents, behind the trucks and fighter jets that were resting, the sounds of gunshots rained the ground in such a haphazard way that even the Legacy's soldiers began to panic. Of course they would if they'd hope to avoid getting shot.

Unless they were to stand still, then they'd realize that the shots were never aimed to kill or injure them, because the intent behind the wild shooting was actually to distract them from the next group that burst into the plaza out of hidden spots in the city that only rats and I would know of, who sent them away as they reached the hostages.

In the background, I could hear Langer barking orders, while I grabbed the woman and picked up her son. I'd long already known the kid was dead since she entered my line of sight; there's a sense of life, an energy that ran through people, in a way that I could sense if they entered my radius. Dead people don't have that energy.

I barely led them away before I sensed a metal chunk flying towards me and pushed the kid's body into his mother and them onto the ground lightly, narrowly avoiding a bullet.

Orange-Hair had closed the distance behind me and I saw him briefly before his boot came towards my face.

I yelped and ducked, dropping to a roll away from the woman before coming back on my feet. Orange-Hair lunged at me again, clearly not eager to let me go; his hands released two of the three guns and aimed at me. I unzipped the front of the military jacket and reached drew one of my daggers out from under my back.

Charging the dagger with electricity, I turned and leaped back towards Orange-Hair, swinging my weapon to smack against the gun. With a cry, my opponent wheeled backward, gripping his wrist and the gun. It was impressive that the jolt did not disarm him, though.

"Go!" I shouted to the woman, who stared at us, dumbfounded. The distance between her and Orange-Hair was shorter than from her to me, but I could probably get in his way if he turned towards her. At my voice, she seemingly came back to life and, clutching her child, ran into the fray that the hostages were creating as they escaped.

Orange Hair was not looking in her direction; he was staring at me as though there was something incomprehensible.

"You...was that electricity?" His voice startled me; compared to his seemingly wild and bright appearance, his voice was calm and stoic. He stared at me hard. "Did you stun me through our weapons with electricity?"

Our surroundings might as well not be there, the way we stared at each other.

"And what if it was?" I answered warily, slowly.

He narrowed his eyes, but there was a rising air of tension, a tightness that seemed to be clutching at our legs. "You cannot be...that person..."

Now I was confused. Maybe I could fight dirty and take this chance to beat him to a pulp, but I decided not to. I was even a little curious to find out what he was getting at.

"Your name...is it Raider Hargrave?"

Yeah, I should have taken the chance to beat him up first. No one but people from the Legacy's higher-ups should have known my name, and even in the Rebels Organization, only a few people know me by name. Why? I abhor it.

All I could do was stare at him for a moment before stuttering, "H-how - how did you know?" The answer came back just as quickly even without Orange-Hair speaking, and I took a step back. "Wait, you're an Assassin?"

Orange-Hair's eyes widened, but he brought it to a glare just as quickly. "Show me your mark as proof."

"I refuse." This time, I replied abruptly. "Of all things, I refuse to show you that. Now, then, can I take my turn to ask you your name?"

This broke his glare completely. "What?"

"Raider! What are you doing? Pull back!" shouted a loud voice that I recognized as Harrison's bellow.

"Nevermind," I said dismissively, cracking a smile, then whirled towards the escaping hostages, who were already making their way out.

Hestia and Harrison were backing up the hostages - now escapees - with guns as I caught up to them. "Weren't you guys supposed to regroup at a safe house?" I backed up beside them, though I do admit that I'm technically useless because I don't have guns unless I shot arcs of lightning to help out.

Hestia blew off a lock of hair that flew into her face before replying, "Davius called us both out to rescue the hostages. We were short on hands."

"I think it's the first time I've ever seen him stay in the background, though," Harrison said.

The three of us split away from each other and I saw Orange-Hair coming after us; he looked furious, though I got the feeling that it was not directed towards me.

Hestia suddenly cried out, and I whirled to her in surprise in time to watch her collapse on the ground.

"Hestia!" Harrison screamed, and almost made me jump - his voice, if you were nearby him, was more a bellow, with a loudness that rang through the ears of anyone nearby and caused them to stop in surprise - and then he, too, choked as he went down.

I started towards Hestia, but the gun from Orange-Hair popped and I narrowly saved my nose by an inch.

"Don't move," he snapped warningly.

I didn't reply, but I didn't move either.

Langer, Colin, and a couple of men, seized Hestia by her arms and forced her up, though it was clear that she couldn't stand, much less move. She might have been shot with a stungun. She was made to hang somewhat as the two soldiers gripped her arm.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"We need you alive a little longer, so let's have this girl here as leverage so you listen to us, alright?" Langer said. "Be nice to us, kid, or we might just get something in her head."

"Me?" I asked. "Wait, if you want a hostage, I'll take that place." Hestia's eyes widened in horror at that, but I didn't pay her any mind.

"You're different, whereas she's a failure," said Orange-Hair, slowly stepping back. "But at least she, with her position in the Rebels organization, will help you at least calm down to talk to us, right?"

I felt like wanting to correct them; Roman, of all people, will cause the most ruckus.

Colin raised a hand and waved it in the direction of their vehicles, though he wore a reluctant expression. In response, the nearby soldiers went to their communicators and radios and began to mutter orders in; they were going to leave immediately.

"You proved formidable," Orange-Hair said to me quietly, and tossed to me something small; I caught a small round disk with a mirror finish on one side. "I did not expect it, but I suppose he always ends up being right."

"He?" I repeated.

Orange-Hair pointed to the disk. "The Light Master." He turned and hurried over to Langer, glancing once at me as we went.

Then, as quietly and gradually as they had settled themselves into this city, they gathered all their things and began to leave.