Secrets of PEACE

by T. A. Hernandez

  Zira scooted closer to him to see the video feed better. “You ever been on an assignment with this many targets?” she asked.

  “Just when we were in the RA going after Feng and the rest of the Brotherhood.”

  “Oh.” She glanced up at him. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “No, it’s fine. I was nervous, even though we had better odds there. There were four of us and only ten of them.”

  Zira huffed. “Nice of Ryku to give us a little reinforcement here, huh?”

  Jared smiled. “That’s all right. I like it better with just the two of us.”

  He wasn’t sure if she knew he was talking about more than just the assignment. She didn’t say anything in response, and in the dark it was hard to read her expression. There was more he wanted to say, but now was not the time. Later, perhaps, when this was all over and she wasn’t so distracted. He tried to project confidence and give her whatever reassurance he could, but this was a dangerous situation, and they both needed to stay focused.

  Once the drone reached the factory, Jared took it around the perimeter a few times, then moved in closer to get a better look. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Two armed men guarded the front and back entrances, but that information had been in their mission file. He flew the drone around a few more times, just to be sure they weren’t missing anything, then set its autopilot to return it to their position.

  “You ready to go?” he asked Zira.

  She nodded. They slid off the car, opened the trunk, and suited up for the operation. They’d borrowed some body armor from the unit P officer’s armory, which was heavier and offered more protection than their standard, more lightweight garb. Each of them carried an assault rifle, a handgun, stun grenades, smoke grenades, and an assortment of knives tucked into various parts of their gear. Overkill, perhaps, but it was better to be safe than dead.

  Each of them wore an earpiece as well, which was connected to their CLs and would allow them to communicate with each other throughout the mission. Jared switched his on and tested it. “Can you hear me?” he whispered.

  “Yeah. You?” Zira’s voice echoed in his ear.

  “Got it. Let’s move.”

  The factory was three miles north of where they were parked, and they set off at a steady jog through the derelict town. They split up about two hundred yards from the front entrance. “Don’t shoot until you have to,” said Jared. They needed stealth and surprise on their side for as long as possible. “See you when it’s over.”

  Zira nodded and waved over her shoulder as she made her way to the door at the back of the building. Jared continued until he reached a sign bearing the factory’s name and crouched behind it. He raised his rifle and looked through the scope. A man with a shotgun walked from one corner of the building to the next, crossing in front of the main entrance. His shoulders slumped and his feet shuffled from boredom, fatigue, or both.

  Jared waited until the man’s back was turned, then ran. By the time the man tensed at the sound of footsteps behind him, it was too late. Jared locked one arm around his neck and squeezed. The man thrashed, but Jared was significantly bigger and stronger. He lifted his arm, drew a knife across the man’s throat, and laid the body on the ground. “One down,” he said to Zira.

  “Same here,” came her reply. “I’m going in now.”

  Jared moved to the door and pushed it open. There were a few dim lights along the base of the wall, but they didn’t offer as much visibility as the moon and stars had. He slipped in and shut the door, then waited a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The factory was silent, and Jared could hear his own footfalls as he moved down the hall. He checked a few offices as he passed, but there was no one inside.

  A burst of gunshots rang out from somewhere deeper inside the building and echoed in his ear. “Zira?” he hissed.

  “Sorry—one of them jumped me over here, caught me off guard.”

  “It’s fine. Keep your eyes open. The rest of them are probably on their way to check out the noise.”

  He heard muffled voices ahead and flattened himself against the wall. The voices came closer. He chanced a quick glance around the corner. One of the radicals spotted him, yelled to her companion, and began shooting.

  Jared drew himself back behind cover and tossed a stun grenade. He took advantage of his targets’ disorientation to take them both down, then proceeded down the hall.

  “How you doing over there Zira?” he asked.

  There was no response. He looked at his CyberLink, which showed that his communication line with her was still open and active. He tried again. “Zira, how are things looking where you’re at?”

  Still no answer. The factory had gone dead quiet again. “Zira, answer me.”

  Someone screamed—a woman’s voice. The sound was abruptly cut off by another brief exchange of gunfire.

  Something in Jared’s chest constricted. His feet flew over the floor in long strides as he headed to the area she should be in. “Zira!” He didn’t care who heard him now as long as he found her. “Zira!” Stepping over two more bodies, he entered a large room filled with boxes and conveyer belts.

  He’d almost reached the door on the other side when it opened. He raised his gun, ready to shoot the hostile the instant he saw their face. But it wasn’t one of their targets.

  Jared’s lungs filled with a rush of air and his heart settled into a normal rhythm as Zira stepped through the doorway. She had a hand pressed over one eye and there was blood oozing into her hair, but she was alive. “We got them all, didn’t we?” she asked.

  Jared tried to tamp down some of the residual panic in his voice. “I think so. How many for you?”

  “Four.”

  He tensed and began to raise his gun again. “I only got three.”

  She seemed unconcerned and motioned to the two bodies he’d stepped over earlier. “Yeah, but those two came around the corner and shot each other before they even knew what they were aiming at.”

  Jared shook his head; this was exactly why people had no business handling guns unless they had the proper training. “That’s all of them then. Why didn’t you answer me when I called?”

  “I was trying to hide from a couple of them back there,” said Zira. “It wasn’t exactly a good time to chat.”

  “Sorry. Just…you were unresponsive. I thought something might have happened to you.”

  She tilted her head to one side and frowned. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know.” He wanted to embrace her and tell her how relieved he’d been to see that she was okay, but he doubted she would appreciate the gesture right now. He pointed to her injury. “We should go clean that up.”

  “What about them?”

  “We’ll come back and bury them later.”

  She nodded, and he led her back outside the same way he’d come in.

  CHAPTER NINE

  As they walked together under the dim starlight, Zira thought about what Jared had said inside the factory. He hadn’t meant to be condescending when he’d said he thought she was in trouble—she knew that. He’d been genuinely concerned, and she shouldn’t have taken offense. Defensive was her automatic response to unfamiliar situations, and she was so unaccustomed to anyone besides Aubreigh truly caring about her that it caught her off guard when Jared had been so alarmed.

  She glanced over at him now, tall and straight as he walked beside her. A familiar tingling sensation twirled in her stomach—the one that sometimes told her to reach out and take Jared’s hand while also terrifying her enough that she didn’t dare do so. They hadn’t said anything to each other since leaving the factory. Not that the silence was uncomfortable, by any means. That was one of the things she liked about being with him; there was never any pressure to force a discussion. Their conversations were relaxed and effortless, but so were their silences.

  They reached the house where they’d parked the car. Jared popped the trunk and rummaged around for a
first aid kit and some water while Zira opened the car door and sat with her legs hanging out the side. He knelt on the ground in front of her and opened a bottle of water. “Let’s see,” he said.

  Zira removed her hand, sticky with blood, and let him look at the deep gash above her eye. He wet a cloth from the first aid kit and began to dab away some of the mess. She winced. “That’s cold.”

  “Sorry.” He kept working. “How did this happen, anyway?”

  “I got in a little scuffle with one of the guys in there. I won, but he smashed his rifle into my face.”

  “You’re going to have a black eye.”

  Zira shrugged. “Won’t be the first.”

  His brows knit together in concentration as he studied the cut under the light from the car’s interior. This close, Zira could see every angle and curve of his face. Strong jaw, full lips, eyes like a warm autumn day. He took some ointment from the first aid kit and put a drop on his finger. His palm was rough and calloused, but his touch was gentle as it moved across her face. He finished applying the ointment and used a few strips of tape to hold the edges of the cut together. “There,” he said. “Good as new.”

  She smiled at him. “Thanks.” The word came out in a whisper as she tried to still the fluttering in her stomach.

  He looked at her for a few seconds, then took her hand casually, as if he’d done it a hundred times before. Zira’s heart missed a beat as he pulled her up. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, taking another step towards him so that their bodies were mere centimeters apart.

  Their fingers intertwined. Zira let out a shaky breath and tilted her head to look up at him. With his free hand, Jared brushed the hair away from her eyes, then bent and pressed his lips against hers.

  The kiss was soft and almost timid at first, but became more fervent when she didn’t shy away from him. Zira hadn’t realized until now how much she’d longed for this moment, and when Jared pulled back, it was almost too soon. She wanted to kiss him again, but her head was spinning so much already she wasn’t sure that would be wise.

  Then again, she reasoned, recklessness was more her nature than good sense. She reached a hand to Jared’s face, drawing him close once more, and kissed him again. A euphoric, dizzy sort of feeling filled her, lingering even after their lips parted. They wrapped their arms around each other and Zira leaned her head against his chest, content to let the world keep turning around them for just a little longer.

  * * *

  They slept in the car the rest of the night, and in the morning, went back to the factory to bury their targets’ bodies and clear out whatever weapons were inside. They found a dozen guns in addition to the ones the radicals had been carrying, three old military bots in various stages of repair, and two blocky pre-war computers that somehow seemed to still be functional. They loaded all of this into the trunk of the car to bring back to the compound and began the long drive home that afternoon.

  As they drove, Zira thought about what had happened the previous night. She was starting to regret the kiss. Not so much the kiss itself, but what it meant. They hadn’t talked about it, but things had clearly changed between them. She looked down at Jared’s hand on her knee and her own hand on top of his as he told a funny story about his childhood. This was what she had wanted, but it terrified her. She didn’t know what came next and hated to think of what might happen if things ended badly between them. By the time they got back to the compound, she felt so conflicted about the whole thing that she turned her cheek when Jared tried to kiss her goodnight and bolted into her apartment at the first opportunity.

  The next morning, she went to see the only person she knew who could help. As she walked to Aubreigh’s apartment, she spotted two of the people she least wanted to run into right now—or anytime, for that matter. She didn’t know much about the young man except that his name was Lucas, but his partner, Cecilia, was an old enemy. She quickened her pace and kept her head down, hoping they wouldn’t pay her any attention.

  “Oh look,” said Cecilia as Zira approached. She made a face as if she’d just smelled something awful. “It’s the little runt.”

  Zira cursed under her breath and kept walking. When both of them had still been young enough to be in elementary training together, Cecilia had often bullied Zira and convinced other children to join in. Since then, she’d always done her best to avoid the older girl. She tried to sidestep the pair, but Cecilia stepped in front of her. “Excuse me,” said Zira.

  “Hold on a minute,” said Cecilia. “It’s been a while. How’s life treating you?”

  “Fine.” Zira had learned a long time ago that it was best to participate in the conversation as minimally as possible; Cecilia would lose interest eventually.

  “Fine? You get partnered with the best operative in our unit, and all you have to say is fine?”

  “What did you have to do to pull that off?” Lucas asked with a lewd wink. Zira shot him a glare.

  Cecilia shrugged. “It makes sense, I guess. Ryku puts the strongest, most skilled operative with the smallest and weakest to even things out a little bit. It’s just such a shame you have to drag Jared down with you. Do you even do any of the work, or do you just stand back and watch while he takes out all of your targets?

  “You got any new lines?” said Zira. “I think everyone knows I’m small already.”

  Cecilia tossed her long, black hair over her shoulder and gave Zira a cold smile. “You just tell Jared to come talk to me when he gets tired of picking up your slack. I’ve got a few good ideas on how he could get rid of you.”

  Zira didn’t let herself rise to the bait. Cecilia had been saying the same things for years now; it was nothing Zira didn’t know about herself already. Yes, she was small, and yes, her partnership with Jared was perhaps a little unbalanced. But she’d worked hard to earn her place in this unit, and she deserved to wear that black band around her arm just as much as Cecilia. She stepped past the two of them and ignored their snickers behind her as she walked away.

  A few minutes later, she knocked on Aubreigh’s door. There was no answer. “Come on, Aubreigh.” She knocked again. “I know you’re still mad at me, but I need your help.”

  The door swung open. Aubreigh stood in the entrance, half-ready for the day in a ruffled blouse and pajama pants. She’d piled her long brown hair on top of her head in a messy knot and clutched a toothbrush in one hand. If it weren’t for the fierce expression on her face, Zira might have laughed. Aubreigh took great pride in her appearance and always looked so put-together, so it was unusual to see her in this disheveled state.

  “Well?” Aubreigh said. The fact that she didn’t even comment on the cut and ugly bruise over Zira’s eye was a testament to how angry she still was. Or at least, how angry she was trying to be; Zira had never known Aubreigh to remain upset about anything for very long.

  “I need to talk to you.” Without waiting for an invitation, Zira ducked under Aubreigh’s arm and walked into the apartment.

  “Just come right on in then,” she grumbled as she turned around and shut the door behind them. “If this is about our argument the other day—”

  “It’s not.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s about Jared.”

  The anger retreated from Aubreigh’s eyes a little. She crossed her arms, waiting for Zira to continue.

  Zira turned her attention to a colorful poster above Aubreigh’s couch. “We kissed.”

  She could just make out her friend’s face in her peripherals. Aubreigh was trying hard to contain some sort of joyous outburst. She settled for raising herself up on her toes instead of leaping into the air and beamed at Zira as if she’d just been handed a basket of puppies. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew you two were perfect for each other.”

  Zira resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’m glad you’re excited about it.”

  “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you’re not.”

  Zira shrugged and shook her head. “I do
n’t know what to think.”

  “But you like him.”

  “I do. But we were friends, and now—I don’t know. I don’t know what happens next.”

  “What do you want to happen next?”

  Zira sighed. “I just don’t want to mess this up.”

  “So talk to him.”

  “And say what?”

  “Just tell him how you feel. And don’t look at me like that. The only way this works is if you talk to each other.” She pulled a pair of pants from where they’d been hanging over a chair and walked into the bathroom to finish brushing her teeth. As if anticipating Zira’s next question, she shouted an afterthought through the door. “And I can’t tell you exactly what to say, so don’t ask. You’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

  Zira slumped onto the couch. Aubreigh was right, as she always was about these things, but the idea of discussing this with Jared made Zira want to lock herself in her apartment and never face the light of day again. How was she supposed to talk about her feelings when she couldn’t even sort them out herself?

  Aubreigh emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, looking much more herself with her hair and makeup done. She sat on the couch next to Zira. “Now that we’ve sorted that out, are we going to talk about our argument, or are we just going to pretend it never happened?”

  “Is that an option?” Zira asked, hopeful.

  “No. You owe me an apology.”

  “And you owe me one.”

  “Fine. We’re both sorry. But seriously, Zira, I wish you would just talk to me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I know. And I also know that whatever it is you do in E-2, it’s dangerous. Violent, even.”

  “Violent?” Zira crossed her arms. Aubreigh was uncomfortably close to the truth.

  “You show up here with your face looking like that right after an assignment, and you want to argue with me that your job isn’t violent? I’m not stupid, Zira. Everyone knows the E-2s spend more time at the shooting range than the rest of us combined. You’re not law enforcement, and you’re not working with unit P to protect us from some hostile foreign invasion or something. Everything you guys do is a big secret. I’m just guessing, but I think you’re all spies or assassins or something. And please don’t tell me how crazy that sounds, because I know it does. But I’m right, aren’t I?”