Not on Her Watch

by Nicole Zoltack

  “We aren’t here so much for them as the Marines,” the Captain decreed. “Don’t forget that important detail. “We need to find them. Rozene and Felipe, you two help Shauna and Alejandro figure out where best to lay bombs if we have to go that route. Lela, Dawson, you can help too. Coral, Mack, get to work on figuring out their plan.”

  “What about us?” Brook Buchanan gestured to Hunter Townsend. The two of them were their medical officers.

  Captain Jones nodded slowly. “You two and Shepherd, stay here and listen up.

  Warrant Office Trinity Shepherd nodded.

  Shauna did her best to focus on the work. Bombs, demolitions, destruction, that she could handle. Some might not understand her passion for blowing things up, but sometimes, things needed to be set on fire. Look at the phoenix. It died, burned to ashes, and could return to life again. Renewal. Faith. It all went hand in hand. Bombs were all about creating disorder with the hope of reforging new order and purpose.

  Well, certain bombs and nukes were for reshaping the world for the better. The ones the Hidden Serpents had were all about mayhem and devastation.In their minds, they’re the heroes. They think there is so much war and hatred in the Middle East is because the world needs one world order—theirs.

  Too much of anything could be terrible. A global government just wouldn’t work. Even if someone who truly wanted peace tried to lead the entire world, it would only last for so long. History showed that dynasties only lasted for so long before they crumbled. Too much power and control never led to anything good. People need freedom, not oppression. People needed hope, not despair.The Hidden Serpents relied on both oppression and despair. They killed with purpose, to instill more fear, more dismay.

  Even though bombs were inherently destructive they could be utilized to create a fresh start. That was what Shauna and Alejandro were going to accomplish here.Make a fresh start and save lives. That’s all we have to do. Shouldn’t be too much to handle. I hope.

  Chapter 9

  Neil ate again before going to sleep. The cot was not the most comfortable, and he was not that tired. His body felt strong and capable. Maybe the brain surgery helped him so he wouldn’t feel fatigue.

  His thought wandered. He couldn’t remember how he got here, but that did not matter. The Colonel and the doctor would not steer him wrong. He had a mission to accomplish, or he would once he completed his training. Until the point, his training was his mission, and Neil accepted it wholeheartedly.

  All in all, he slept maybe an hour. He rested on the cot for a total of three hours. Then, he could not handle lying down any longer. He did push-ups, diamond push-ups, wide push-ups, staggered push-ups, and plyo push-ups. He had just switched over to jumping lunges when his door creaked open.

  The doctor stood there. “Awake already, I see. Follow me to the cafeteria. You should eat before your training commences.”

  Neil walked behind the doctor until he determined the pace was too slow. He maneuvered around the doctor and led him instead. Although he had eaten his final meal in his room, he easily could determine where to turn to reach the cafeteria. The place was empty. Neil was shocked to read the clock hanging crooked on the wall, the glass cracked.

  “Is it really four in the morning?” he asked.

  “Yes.” The doctor gestured for him to sit and walked northward toward the kitchen area. A few minutes later, he returned with a large stack of pancakes, a heap of bacon and sausage, and half a loaf of bread.

  Neil ate everything before he even thought to ask the doctor if he wanted any. The doctor merely sat back without a word, watching Neil as if he were an experiment. The notion did not sit well with Neil. In fact, it repulsed him. He was a fighter and nothing else.

  When I train, he will see, understand, and accept that.

  Mollified, Neil followed the doctor back outside to that same area. Most of it remained devastated. The target was gone. No weapons were present.

  “What will you have me do now?” Neil asked.

  “Just a moment. Ah. Here we go. Neil, this is Dreslin Maler. He is our best fighter.”

  Neil scowled, loathing the tall, sunburned man who wore an arrogant smirk.

  “Remove your shirts,” the doctor instructed.

  Neil reacted a few seconds quicker than Dreslin Maler. He grinned, enjoying that greatly.

  “Go at it,” Doctor Sengo Despar instructed.

  Neil hesitated with purpose. Dreslin launched at him. Neil sidestepped him, grabbed his hair, and wrapped his arm around the man’s throat.

  “Release him. Go again.”

  Neil complied. Again, Dreslin attacked, but this time, he went to choke Neil. Neil brought his hands down low, put them together as if in prayer, and lifted his arms up and out. This swift movement forced Dreslin to release his hold on Neil’s neck. Neil followed it up with a swift knee to Dreslin’s stomach.

  Dreslin staggered back a few paces before jerking forward. A flash of silver caught Neil’s eye. Dreslin had a blade. He reached overhead to strike Neil, but Neil gripped Dreslin’s wrist at the height of his arc. Swiftly, he stepped forward while bringing the arm back as far as it would go. He grabbed the blade and swept Dreslin’s legs out from under him. A knee to his throat held Dreslin in place, and Neil held the blade to his nose.

  “Again?” he asked.

  The doctor shook his head. “Neil, stand over here.”

  Neil complied, standing in the spot the target had been.

  “Now, don’t get hit,” the doctor said.

  Confused, Neil held still.

  Dreslin threw knife after knife after knife. Neil maneuvered out of the way of each.

  “Swift reflexes,” Neil said with a smirk.

  “I suppose,” Dreslin said dully.

  The doctor crossed over, retrieved a knife from the ground, and cut Neil’s arm. Neil didn’t flinch.

  “Hm,” said the doctor. “I have some medicine that I would like you to try.”

  “We’ve finished training already?” Neil asked, disappointed.

  “Don’t worry. There will be more,” the doctor promised.

  >>><<<

  Neil slipped in and out of consciousness. Slowly, he could hear that two people were talking. Something about epigenetic modification through dendrimers. Something about durability and healing. Then, the darkness claimed Neil again.UV light woke Neil sometime later. His body felt so hot. The light was intense. His body felt like it was being melted from the inside out.

  The light shut off. Neil’s heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm.

  Doctor Sengo Despar tapped on the metal restraints holding Neil down to the table.

  “Break free,” the doctor said.

  Neil wanted to hesitate, but he was a soldier. Without a worry that he’d fail, without an ounce of fear that he’d feel pain, Neil yanked once, and his right arm was free. Again, he did the same with his left.

  “Your legs too,” the doctor said softly.

  That was even easier to Neil. He stood before the doctor.

  “Hold out your arm,” the doctor instructed.

  Neil complied, and the doctor cut the arm as he had before. Again, Neil didn’t flinch. Astonishingly, Neil’s skin began to clot and then heal immediately. No scrawls visible once the wound closed over completely.

  A slow clap sounded. Neil glanced over at the newcomer. He was short and stout and dressed in a military uniform.

  This must be Colonel Kronston Taer.

  “But that wound was only a superficial one,” he said.

  Kronston Taer snatched the knife from the doctor and stabbed it right into Neil’s leg, precisely where the femoral artery was located. The Colonel yanked it back out. Blood gushed, slowed, and the wound closed up, albeit slightly slower than the first.

  “What exactly did you do to him?” Kronston Taer asked as if Neil wasn’t awake and listening.

  Well, trying to listen. He could not believe that he hadn’t felt an ounce of pain, not a twinge. He had had a four
-inch-long blade buried in his leg, and he hadn’t felt it. And his skin was smooth. It was as if he had never been knifed at all!

  “Dendrimer carried genome-editing molecules within his body. I wanted to modify his healing, his endurance, his durability. I had already enhanced and manipulated his strength, agility, and reflexes. His speed may be increased. I am not certain yet.”

  “Why is his skin warm to the touch?”

  “It will go away. The dendrimers had to be activated by UV light.”

  “Can this be replicated?” the Colonel asked eagerly.

  The doctor appeared just as eager and excited. “I hope so. There are prerequisites, of course, and every subject will need different genome-editing molecules, but I believe it will be reproducible, yes. We need to see what all that the other soldiers would need. Perhaps if we were to gain a genius, for instance, we might not worry about their body so much as their mind. Just think of what can be accomplished if we can create a super genius! A super genius to dictate what the super soldier or soldiers could do. We would be unstoppable!”

  “Why do we not just make you the super genius?” the Colonel asked skeptically.

  The doctor scowled at him. “I trust no one with my mind. I already am a genius. Besides, who would do the operation on me? Yes, I could work on the dendrimers myself, but no. No, no.”

  “And you are too old,” the Colonel pointed out.

  “If you were not correct, I would be very cross with you for saying such a thing about my person.” The doctor glowered at him. “But, yes, a stronger, fitter body would be much more suited toward accepting the trauma. And it is trauma that must be undergone to allow such a dramatic change within one’s body. I fear that some might not survive the transition.”

  “Very well. I think I have another…” The Colonel trailed off and eyed Neil.

  “Perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere. Or does it matter since we are speaking Grottian?”

  Neil blinked, confused. Why did they think he couldn’t understand them? He could. But he was a soldier, and they were not speaking to him directly, so he maintained his silence.

  “He is one of us. We are fine to say what we wish in front of him.”

  The Colonel seemed suspicious, though. Evidently, the doctor realized this because he handed Neil the knife.

  “Cut your arm again,” the doctor said.

  Neil complied. As before, he felt no pain, and the wound healed itself.

  “See how he does not hesitate to listen to my commands?” The doctor sounded quite pleased.

  “Hm.” The Colonel eyed Neil with interest. “Only you or…”

  “Ask him yourself.”

  The Colonel turned to Neil and clasped his hands behind his back. “Will you be my main soldier, my top soldier?”

  “Of course,” Neil said.

  “Will you do whatever task I assign you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if you will need to assassiNathaniel those who wish to harm us and our cause?”

  “None will stand in our way,” Neil said firmly.

  The Colonel beamed, pleased. He brought Neil to another room, one wider with a bed and a dresser.

  “I don’t need all of this,” Neil protested.

  “Maybe not but I wish for you to have it. If you continue to exceed expectations, there is no limit to what you will be given,” the Colonel promised.

  “What is it you wish for most?”

  Neil did not hesitate. “I want us to achieve our goal.”

  “Who exactly is us?” the Colonel asked suspiciously.

  “The Hidden Serpents of Grotto’s Bay.”

  “And what is our goal?”

  “To establish a new world order and create a worldwide government so they all can live in peace and prosperity.”

  “Indeed, Neil, indeed. With you on our side, we will certainly achieve all of our goals. Now, rest. Tomorrow, you will be given your first assignment.”

  Neil went right to sleep. His dreams were nonexistent, but that did not bother him. He had no worries, no fear. Tomorrow, his life would start. His past, the emptiness that it was, that void, it all meant nothing. Only the future mattered. His and the Hidden Serpents'.

  Chapter 10

  Shauna was more than ready to set off each and every single bomb they had brought along. Given how war-ravaged this area was, surely she and Alejandro could find materials to create more if needed.

  But Captain Jones rejected her idea out of hand.

  "We cannot afford to screw this up," he said angrily. "There is too much at stake. The entire world is watching. If we kill innocent civilians in order to save our men, we become monsters."

  The A-Team was gathered in one of the buildings buried within the safe part of the city. It was half in ruins, though. So few buildings throughout the entire area had been demolished, hit with bullets if not something much harder.

  It's almost as if every building is being used as target practice.

  Or as if the Hidden Serpents want to ensure that the civilians against them have terrible lives so they'll reconsider.

  One would have to be desperate to consider joining them. Considering the haunted looks in the eyes of the civilians she'd seen on their walk here, Shauna knew better. Some had already defected, and it was possible some didn't even realize they had.

  We can’t trust many of them at all. We shouldn't have to rely on them anyhow. We're here to save our own. That's it.

  For the first time, a CSAR almost felt wrong. There was so much evil here on this island that Shauna wanted to be in the thick of the fight. She wanted to be on the front lines.

  But the front lines had resulted in four Marines being captured. The front lines were as devastating as any front lines could be.

  The room was spare with no chairs. The only table had bullet holes riddled throughout.

  Brook Buchanan and Hunter Townsend were making good use of their time. More than a few of the civilians were injured. The most serious they were helping here in the room. It only took a glance for Shauna to realize that some had died already.

  Alejandro was working beside Shauna, muttering to himself as he checked the wires again and again. He could be a little bit OCD at times but not enough to be diagnosed with it.

  In another corner, Coral Nguyen and Mack Jacobs were working on breaking through to the Hidden Serpents' communications. From the fist slamming on the ground repeated, Mack was growing more and more frustrated.

  "Maybe they aren't using radio signals at all," he suggested.

  "But with their base being moved constantly," Coral started.

  "Are we certain about that?" Shauna broke in. She ignored the shocked look on Alejandro's face as she stepped over to join the Communication Sergeants. "Maybe all we've ever discovered are satellite bases."

  Coral leaned back from the radio and patted her tight, black mini braids that then twisted into one huge braided bun. "They still have to communicate with everyone somehow."

  "Their technology is more advanced than some of ours," Mack admitted.

  "But anything electronic you two should be able to pick up on," Shauna pointed out. "What if they're going old school?"

  The two began to talk over each other, and Shauna wearily rubbed her face. They hadn't slept since arriving, and her body was starting to feel the effects.

  Admit it. It's not the lack of sleep eating away at you. You're nervous and worried and frightened.

  Shauna had always told herself she would never date a military man. Nathaniel Strongarm had screwed that up for her entirely. She hadn't wanted to feel helpless. She couldn't accept feeling this way.

  It wasn't ever supposed to be like this.

  Rozene Begay was by the door. She was eyeing the sky. "There will be a sandstorm soon," she said.

  The Captain bristled. He stood by the table, lording over everyone, ensuring they were working. He glowered at Shauna, and she moved back over toward the explosives.

  "A sands
torm will only serve to hinder our efforts," the Captain muttered. He looked angry enough to shake a fist at the sky.

  Felipe Reyes glanced up from the files he'd been studying. "There isn't supposed to be a sandstorm," he said.

  Rozene glowered at him. "Remember back in Grandette?" she asked, bringing up the time she correctly predicted a tornado. "And Frankenvelt?"

  "No one can predict freak storm like that one in Frankenvelt."

  I did," Rozene said smugly.

  "Fine," Felipe said begrudgingly. "No one should be able to predict anything like that."

  "It's all about the sky and the clouds," she said seriously. "I know you all don’t believe, but I am right more often than meteorologists."

  "That's not saying much," Alejandro piped up.

  Even Rozene had to smile at that. "Yeah, yeah. But there's something different about this sandstorm that'll be coming."

  "How much time do we have until it'll hit?" the Captain asked.

  "Maybe a few hours," she said. "Maybe tomorrow. I can't be sure."

  She crossed over to her partner.

  Through the now empty doorway, Shauna could spy a man walking toward the building with purpose. She narrowed her eyes as he entered. Dressed in camouflage, he looked very much like a man of authority as he marched over to the table where Captain Jones stood. Shauna eyed him suspiciously. Who was he? Was he the one pulling the Captain's strings? Because the Captain was normally a go in and get the job done no matter what kind of guy.

  "Lieutenant Colonel Arnold Padilla," the Captain said as the two shook hands.

  Shauna didn't even feel ashamed for having thought wrongly about the newcomer. It was under this man's watch that the four Marines had been captured and potentially killed.

  Don't project your worries, your fears, your sorrow onto him. If he's half the officer the Captain is, he has his own guilt and sadness to wrestle through.

  Shauna shook the Lieutenant Colonel's hand, and introductions were made all around.