by Joe Peacock
widened. Sweat glistened on his brow. He nodded.
"I don't want to kill you. If I did, you'd be dead. Do you believe me?" She asked. He nodded again.
"Good. Yank your battery and request permission to return for field repair, and I'll keep it that way. Deal?"
The corporal nodded once more. He reached for a pouch on his hip, flipped the cover open, and pulled on a wire until it snapped. The power to his field systems died.
Marlowe slowly removed her hand from the corporal’s mouth and wrapped it around his chin, preparing to snap his neck at the first sign of non-compliance.
"Sarge, I got a problem," the corporal said.
Marlowe pressed her fingers into the skin under his jaw.
"Onboard just took a shit. Everything's gone dark," he continued. "I'm on backups. I gotta see the Chief and get it sorted."
Marlowe immediately put her hand back over his mouth. A very faint buzzing could be heard from the earpiece in his helmet.
"Granted?" Marlowe asked. He nodded in reply.
Marlowe yanked the camera from his chest with her right hand and tossed it. She then placed her free arm over his head while moving her left from his mouth to around his neck into a chokehold. The corporal passed out almost immediately.
Marlowe dragged the soldier back to Jen in the office. "I've got the dumbest plan ever," she said. "But it's all we got. Help me get him undressed."
Moments later, Marlowe was dressed in the soldier's gear, while he was clad in nothing but undershorts, a piece of tape covering his mouth, and packing twine wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The clothing hung loose on Marlowe, as the corporal was at least half again her size.
"This is actually a good thing," Jen said. "It'll cover those cuffs on your wrists and ankles, at least."
"I look like a cartoon," Marlowe said, holding her arms out to demonstrate how loosely the clothing hung on her frame.
"We can fix that," Jen answered. She began rifling through the drawer on the desk, finding a few binder clips and some tape. As quickly as she could, she performed makeshift hemming and binding on the uniform, pulling it as tight as she could.
"Nice work," Marlowe said as she examined her provisional outfit. "This isn't going to hold up to any sort of inspection, and heaven help me if we have to fight...but with the body armor on top and some luck, it should pass." She donned the armor that lay in a pile on the floor, clamping each piece into place, and then picked up the soldier's biometrically coded rifle. It was useless to her as a firearm, but perfectly suitable for a prop. She slung the green duffle bag over her shoulder, dropped the visor on the helmet, and guided Jen at gunpoint out the door.
The Subs were in total disarray. All around, people lay dead or bound with cuffs, their illicit shops and makeshift homes ransacked. Teams of MilSec soldiers carried boxes of contraband out of the burning hovels while others guided groups of prisoners to transports. It was disproportionate and heavy-handed; quite possibly the largest domestic display of force MilSec had performed since the war. Marlowe shook her head. This is horrific, and it's all my fault, she thought wearily.
Jen led Marlowe away from the chaos toward a dead-end of head shops, strip clubs, and bars. Marlowe felt sick. Dead ends were not a place that anyone with any training would willingly go in enemy-occupied territory. But this was Jen's hood. She trusted her sister enough to abandon her training and follow her into the unknown.
A MilSec sergeant appeared from the doorway of a shop and headed toward them. Marlowe pressed the rifle into Jen's back, indicating that they should just keep walking. The sergeant waved at Marlowe, who nodded.
"What have you got here, Corporal?" The sergeant asked as he approached.
Before Marlowe could answer, Jen spat on the sergeant and yelled "Get bent, pig!"
Both surprised and pleased by her sister's improvisation, Marlowe followed her lead. She whipped the rifle around and slammed the butt of it between Jen's shoulder blades, sending her face-first to the ground. "Enough!" she yelled at Jen, who replied by raising to her knees and spitting on Marlowe's pant leg.
Marlowe looked to the sergeant, who was smirking. She pointed to her battery pack and showed him the torn wires. "Snagged while bagging this dirtbag," she said, hoping that her voice was muffled and disguised enough by the helmet mask. "Gonna drop her off and see the Chief."
"Heh, fucking Subbies," the Sergeant joked. "I'll secure her. You go get your gear fixed."
"I've got this, sir," Marlowe said. "This one caused me some trouble. I've got some... extra interrogating I need to do." She kicked Jen in the ribs for added effect.
The Sergeant chuckled. "Well then. Carry on, Corporal," he said with a wink.
"Yes, sir! Gladly, sir!" She answered. She kicked Jen again. "On your feet!" She ordered.
Jen looked up at Marlowe in disgust. Slowly she rose to her feet. The two resumed walking.
"Did you really have to kick me that hard?" Jen muttered over her shoulder.
"It worked, didn't it?" Marlowe replied.
"On our left," Jen said. "Sully's Bar. We need to get in there."
Jen led Marlowe to a shop in the back left corner of the dead-end. The half-burnt out sign read "Sully's."
"Get on your knees facing the doorway, and keep your hands behind your head," Marlowe said. Jen complied.
Marlowe took the bag from her shoulder and placed it beside Jen, and began rummaging through it, keeping the rifle trained on her as she did. Two MilSec soldiers passed. One nodded toward Marlowe. She nodded back.
The soldiers continued a few yards past the sisters, and then froze. They suddenly sprinted toward the shop from which Marlowe and Jen had just escaped.
"Looks like someone found our handiwork," Marlowe remarked. Jen crawled forward into the doorway and made her way to the back, behind the bar. Marlowe grabbed the duffel bag and followed close behind.
"What's in here?" Marlowe said as she ducked behind the bar with Jen.
"A way out," Jen replied. She ran her fingers under the lip of the bar, then under the first layers of shelves. "Aha!"
She pressed a button. There was a light click, and a panel in the baseboards of the wall beside them opened. Jen crawled through, followed by Marlowe. They found themselves in a tight tunnel with a ladder leading upward.
"This will put us in a bookstore at street level," Jen said as she grabbed the ladder. "No one ever shops there. Sully's own insurance plan."
"How'd you know about this?" Marlowe asked.
"I've had to use it before. Poker game. You know how it goes."
"Someone caught you cheating, huh?"
"Everyone cheats down here," Jen said. "Except, of course, off-duty MilSec guys who wander into the Subs for a wild weekend."
"And Sully saved your ass?" Marlowe asked. "He must really like you."
"Sully likes being cut in for thirty percent. Oh, and tits. He really likes tits."
Jen reached the hatch. Marlowe watched as Jen pushed lightly, testing it. It lifted with no resistance. She pushed her head up against the hatch and scanned the area. It seemed clear. She opened it fully and began to ascend. Suddenly, she shrieked as she was yanked up and out of the tunnel.
"JEN!" Marlowe yelled, clambering up the ladder as fast as she could. She leapt out of the hatch to find Jen in the arms of a burly and bald grey-bearded man who clutched a massive wrench in one of the hands also holding Jen. The two were laughing, until the man caught sight of Marlowe, clad head to toe in MilSec armor.
"MilSec! Run, Jen!" The man yelled as he lunged toward Marlowe, brandishing the pipe wrench. Marlowe caught him by the sleeve of his right arm, put her free hand around his throat, and spun him into the wall behind them.
"Marlowe!" Jen begged. "That's Sully!"
Marlowe cocked her head. She released Sully and took a step back.
Sully coughed as he rubbed his throat and regained his bearings. "Did -- cough -- Did I hear that right?
" He asked. "Marlowe? As in MK?"
Jen positioned herself between the two. "It's okay," she said to Marlowe. "You can trust him. I promise."
Marlowe took off the MilSec helmet and dropped it to the floor. Sully's face was the very picture of shock. "Sully, meet my sister, Marlowe. Marlowe, this is Sully."
Marlowe smirked and tossed a half-wave, half-salute toward Sully, and then began removing the overlarge MilSec armor.
"I can't believe it..." Sully said, Marlowe Kana is your sister...?"
"Adopted," Marlowe said. Jen hit her on the shoulder.
"Well shit!" Sully said with a laugh. "I'm a huge fan! I hate MilSec, but you...you I always loved! But...how'd you end up here?"
"Long story for another time," Marlowe said, pulling her orange-jumpsuit-clad legs from the bottom portion of armor. "We've got to get out of here. You have a vehicle? Preferably pre-war?"
"Yeah, at my place. A bike and a truck," he replied. He swelled with pride as he added "Restored 'em myself!"
"Where's your place?" Jen asked.
"Other side of the Krog Street Bridge, in Peoplestown."
"Shit," Marlowe said. "I'm sure they've set up a perimeter. You see any MilSec on the
