S2, 08 The First Strike Part 1 (FB) (July 26, 2017)

**30 May 2097**

London, England

Earth

Soft rain trickled down the penthouse window as Brody Walker stood anxiously, staring at the door. His good leg tapped to an unheard beat as subtle nervousness filled his stomach. The clothes he was wearing made him feel sick, despite their actual comfort.

They were mostly black, expertly mixed with patches of dark blue, and held a surprising number of pockets for various pills, ointments, bandages and tools. They were equally comfortable, practical and useable. The perfect clothes for an assassin’s medic.

Brody shoved the thought down the moment it popped into his head. He wasn’t a Core agent anymore, he’d left that behind. All he had now was a job to do, a job to stop a mad man from poisoning the system.

A single knock rang through the apartment, filling it with sound. Brody stepped forward and opened the door, revealing the figure beyond.

A man stepped through, dressed in combat police gear with a hat fixed to his head. His lips were locked in a slight frown, but his eyes showed that he was more calm and un-worried than angry. He was a little shorter than Brody, but the width of his shoulders more than made up for it, and his legs were every bit as toned as his arms. A bag hung from one shoulder, and a tattoo sleeve was barely visible underneath the arm of his jacket.

His name was Russel Hall, but he almost never used it. He nodded once as Brody addressed him, a quick grin appearing on the officer’s face before vanishing immediately.

Brody: “Blaze, mate. How are you going?"

Blaze spoke, his voice hard but not unkind, a faint American accent edging the words. It was a voice of logic over emotion, but Brody knew the man well enough to pick out the elusive happiness beneath.

Blaze: “Good. Busy, but good. Yourself?”

Brody: “Eh, can’t complain. Another day, another surgery.”

Blaze: “Know the feeling. Crime and illness don’t take holidays.”

Brody: “Very true, very true. Come on, have a seat. The others still be awhile.”

Blaze: “Sure, thanks. Could use a beer, if you’ve got one.”

Brody chuckled slightly as he removed a bottle from the fridge and handed it over. Blaze took it, examined the label briefly, shrugged and took a mouthful. It was interesting, Brody thought to himself as the other man removed his cap, revealing the shaved head beneath, how Blaze was the only person that he seemed to be able to chat with. As his colleagues had reminded him, he really sucked at small talk, but Blaze’s lack of interest in wasting time on such things seemed to make him immune to Brody’s stumbling words.

The doctor shrugged as he poured a glass for himself. Whatever the reason, he liked the man before him. Despite the dark past that he hid well, Blaze was one of the few from those days he still considered a friend, and the only one he actively kept contact with. Sal had been right, all those months ago. He cared too much to let that past fade completely.

They talked for a few minutes before another knock sounded out, this time a brief series of individual taps. Brody stood again and walked over, his cybernetic limb whirring with every other step. As he drew closer, he heard voices on the other side of the door. The thick wood blurred the words, but he recognised them immediately. And they appeared to be arguing

Blaze: “Yeah, I saw them arrive. Must’ve met up earlier. Sure can talk, can’t they?”

Brody nodded as Blaze seemed to read his thoughts. Briefly, he considered some topics of conversation, but discarded it immediately. He’d just have to wait till they were talking facts. He didn’t want to make it any more awkward than it already would be.

He opened the door and two people walked, in an older man and a young woman, starkly different but with smiles that conveyed a similarity. The man towered over everyone, a good 6 inches above Brody. His skin was the colour of coffee and tanned by the sun, his movements were fluid and graceful. Eyes like little black beetles poked through beneath a wide hat, filled with an almost child-like glee. He carried a guitar on his back and a bag in his hand, and wore loose, bright coloured clothing. Carlos Amador it seemed, despite the years, had lost none of his charm.

The woman with him met Brody’s eyes and was on him in an instant, pulling him into a tight hug. She wore a massive grin, set beneath clear blue eyes that revealed an intelligence beyond her years. Her clothes, unlike her companion, were tighter and more practical in their colours. Her brown locks were tied up in a short pony tail that swung gently above a tight leather jacket. He addressed her quickly as she let go, a small smile of his own on his face.

Brody: “Rosanna! Good to see you again! Carlos, you’re… looking well.”

The woman stepped back and spoke, her voice easy and light, accented with cheerful Australian. However, the moment his ears picked out the accent, his thoughts shifted to a man far, far away. Dustin Vorn. The dead man that no one else in the room knew about. Sal had called him a few nights ago and told him they couldn’t make it. Brody still had trouble believing it, believing he was still alive. There was still no way it was medically possible…but Sal wasn’t known for lying.

He pushed the thought down and brought his mind back to the moment, focusing on the people in front of him. They had to be the focus now. He'd need to keep them at the front of his mind if they were going to succeed. And besides, it *had* been years.

Rose: “Man, it’s good to finally see you again Brody! I mean, actually see you! Well, I know com-links and that help, but still. How ya been?”

Brody: “Oh, fine…um…doing this and that. Surgeries and operations, all going pretty well.”

Rose: “From what Strum was telling me, you’re doing better than ‘pretty well.”

The other man spoke, his voice matching the eyes, a subtle charm weaving its way through the Mexican undertones.

Strum: “It’s true, mi amigo, I’ve read about some of your works. That case in ‘95, with the spine fracture? Brillante!”

Brody shrugged at the words, dropping his eyes and claiming it was nothing, until Blaze piped up.

Blaze: “Just take the damn compliment. You’re making it awkward.”

At the sound of his voice, Rose ran over like a blur. One minute there, the next gone. She’d certainly kept her training up. Blaze stood and held out his hand before Rose could pounce, so she pumped it up and down eagerly. Strum strolled over in her wake, leaving his bag by the door.

Rose: “Blaze! Good to see you too! How long has it been?”

Blaze: “What, six years? Calm down Rose, it hasn’t been that long.”

Strum: “I disagree, old friend. Six years is a long time indeed. What have you been up to?”

Blaze: “Same thing I was always up to; stopping people from hurting people. What about you two?”

Rose: “Not much really. I’ve done a few recon jobs, dabbled with the IIA for a bit, helped out the Marshals a while back. Been pretty cruisy otherwise.”

Strum: “Ha, listen to the pair of you. Still a couple of soldiers.”

Rose: “Ok then Strum, enlighten us. What should we have been doing?

Blaze: “Oh, this’ll be good.”

Brody grinned as Strum opened his jaw in mock surprise, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. He let his arms go wide and spoke again, sarcasm filling every word.

Strum: “It’s so obvious, isn’t it? Why do my amigos waste their lives away in jobs they wanted to leave behind? You should be out living life! Indulging in the finer things, the many good things life has to offer!”

Rose: “Ah, of course! Pray tell, what kind of finer things do we require? Your followers wish to know.”

Strum: “Si, as I said, it’s obvious. All you need…."

He froze with words on his lips, taking in their faces in a dramatic pause, before exclaiming in a loud voice.

Strum: "...is music!”

Blaze: “And all you need is a boot in your rear.”

Rose burst out laughing and Blaze flashed a lightening grin. Strum straightened and scrunched up his face in exaggerated anger, before relaxing back to a chuckle. Brody nodded to himself and fished a few more glasses out of the cupboard, calling out to the trio as he went.

Brody: “Alright, Sal’s still on his way, so can I get you two anything to drink?”

Strum: “Thank you, amigo. Wine would be good, if you have any.

Rose: “Water’ll be fine for me. Thanks Crutch.”

Brody winced at the codename and went to bury his face in the drinks cabinet.

Crutch.

The name still felt false to him, despite Sal using it when they talked. It wasn’t him, it was the name of a younger man who’d wanted excitement, who’d wanted the Core. He wasn’t that man anymore. The others might’ve been glued to their codenames, but he’s long since let his go.

At least, he hoped he had. He’d certainly wanted to.

He quickly grabbed a half-opened bottle of red and a jug of water from the fridge. He filled two glasses and brought them over, his thoughts spinning slightly as the pair took them.

Brody: “Here…and, uh, I prefer not to use that name…if it’s all the same to you.”

Rose met Strum’s eyes for a moment, a low smile on her face. She took her drink and extended her other hand, palm open expectantly. Strum glanced at Brody, before rolling his eyes and reaching into his pocket. He dug around before pulling out a handful of credits, dumping them in the waiting hand. Rose smiled gleefully and pocketed the cash, leaving Brody and Blaze stuck in the middle without a hint of context.

Brody: “Uh…sorry, did I miss something?”

Rose: “Not really. Strum and I made a bet earlier. He thought you’d still be using your codename. And he was wrong.”

Strum: “I don’t know, I just thought he’d have made peace with it, is all. I’ll be honest, you kinda let me down there, Crutch.”

Brody: “Brody, if you wouldn’t mind. Too many memories.”

Blaze: “Memories are memories, they aren’t glued to a word. Besides, your past isn’t tainted with blood.”

Brody: “Yeah…yeah, I know…still though, it’s…a reminder. A confirmation, you know?

Blaze: “No.”

Strum: “My friend, you know how important it was when a name was chosen. I remember when you chose yours.”

Brody: “Strum, I don’t…”

Strum: "*I am the Crutch, that others will lean on. I am their support and their stability and when they fall, I will keep them standing.* ”

Blaze: “Seems to me like you’re still doing that. You never once let those words down. And you still support them to this day. So quit shunning it like it’s a bad omen.”

Rose: “True. You never let anyone down. And I’m sure you still haven’t. Because you’re…a crutch…see?

Strum: “Hey, if you change his mind, I get my money back.”

Rose: “What? Er, in that case, Crutch is bad! Yeah, really bad.”

Strum: “Oh come on señora, that’s just desperate.”

Rose: “Well these are desperate times!”

Strum: “Really?”

Rose: “Heck yeah, I desperately want this money.”

Blaze snorted at their banter and the pair laughed again. Brody blocked it all out. Crutch….no…no. He couldn’t, surely. Yes, he had been a medic and yes…he supposed those words he’d said all those years ago still held true. But he would be lying if he agreed completely to what Rose had said. And he wouldn’t let his name be a lie.

Brody: “Rose. You say I never let anyone down?”

Rose: “What? Well, yeah. You didn’t.”

Brody: “Tell me then, how was it I *didn’t* let anyone down at Firelight?”

He saw her eyes go wide and her face lost its grin immediately. The others stared at him briefly before dropping their gazes to the ground. The sudden silence was deafening and Brody instantly regretted his decision. They all knew what Firelight was, what had happened. Even Rose, who hadn’t been there, knew the details. Brody gulped and stood there, trying to read the situation.

Finally Blaze broke the silence, in his usual logical manner. However, Brody caught the undertones, heard them all too well. Even Blaze had bad memories from that night.

Blaze: “Look, what happened during Firelight…it wasn’t your fault mate. You didn’t let anyone down.”

Strum: “Agreed. Without you, well, you know where I’d be. I’m sure Rho, Sledge and Gate feel the same way.”

Brody: “And Brute? Glass? Twig? What about them? Do you think Cage would agree with you? I…I was the medic, I was supposed to look after you all…No. Crutch died that day…Brody Higgins died that day. I’m all that’s left.”

Rose was about to speak before a series of loud knocks echoed off the apartment walls. Brody took the out and opened the door, greeted by the face he’d come to know so well again over the past few months. Sal nodded in greeting and strolled into the room, his furious moustache bristling gently.

The others slowly withdrew their solemn looks and raised smiles as the old man met their gaze, nodding and greeting each one. Blaze and Strum shook his hand eagerly and Rose gave him a quick hug, and then he was all business. Sal had told Brody that he wouldn’t have time to chatter once he’d arrived, and he was right. He was even wearing his old Core clothes.

That in itself was a surprise. Brody knew that Sal hated those days more than he did.

After a moment of brief chatter, Sal withdrew a disc from his pocket and placed it on the ground. He stepped back and pulled a small remote out of his other pocket. His finger met the touchscreen and the little disc beeped slightly before exploding with colour as a holographic image filled the room, suspended by pure light.

Sal raised his voice, his Scottish accent filling every word, and all of a sudden Brody’s penthouse became a Core briefing. His mind was taken back instantly, but he refused to let it stay there. The last briefing he’d attended had been for Firelight after all.

Sal: “Alright, good to have you all here again. Now, I’m sure Brody’s informed you all of what we’re doing tonight.”

Rose: “Yep. Stopping Uek and his plan for interstellar genocide by cutting off his supply of rock.”

Sal: “Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘cutting off’. Uek Ferris has grown more powerful than we anticipated. He’s getting more shipments every day through the underworld, under the guise of the Storm.”

Blaze: “Fitting.”

Sal: “But Vohilla’s always been one of his largest smugglers, and this haul’s one of the biggest yet. She’s had months to prepare. But, so have I. And we’re going to start whittling down that little tower that Ferris has built for himself.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, Brody included. This was it. They were finally going to do it, put a hold on the plague that had been hanging unnoticed over the system’s head. And, more importantly, they were going to annoy Uek Ferris. Which was always a good thing.

Sal nodded to himself and zoomed the hologram closer to the airfield. The sea of shipping containers, unused hangers and aging towers rushed toward them before stopping at the desired height. Sal stepped forward, and interlocked his gloved fingers, a low anticipation filling the room.

Sal: “So. The plan is as follows…”

**30 May 2097**
Kühnluft Airfield, Germany

Earth

The German forest was eerily quiet. Granted, it was always quiet when compared with the bustle of the many cities that Sal had lived in during his time, but even so. He’d spent a fair share of his life hiding out in woods like this, and he was used to more noise. But it was as if the events that were about to transpire had scared off all the birds and insects in the area. Pity. He would’ve liked the cover, though those with him didn’t exactly need it.

The squad of five moved forward like ghosts, flitting from shadow to shadow. This close to the airfield the trees and shrubs had been kept low, clearly in an attempt to beat back the ever-present tide of nature. Still, those he was with had been trained in the Core. He knew they’d make do.

His eyes had long since adjusted to the dark and he spun to check his companions. Rose ducked expertly from patch to patch, barely a whisper in the night. This was what she excelled at, moving quickly and silently. Strum moved behind her, a green cloak draped over his stark white clothes. Sal had advised against it, but the tall Mexican had laughed and shrugged it off. Apparently, he wanted to be seen. And heard, given by the ever-present guitar neck poking out the side of his cloak. The damn thing never left his side.

Blaze was next, the least fluid of the group, though still miles better than average. His police uniform was perfect for blending into the night, making Sal wonder if he’d picked the shade himself. His arms clanked as his weapons jolted with the movement, tucked away under tailored sleeves.

Finally, there was Crutch, bringing up the rear. His leg had been covered by his trousers, but the soft whirring was still audible to Sal’s trained ears. He moved remarkably well despite an obvious limp, his breathing still and even. As much as he would deny it, he hadn’t let up his training, and due to his line of work he was used to high stress scenarios. So long as he didn’t have to talk his way out of anything, he’d be fine.

Silently, they crested the rise of the hill and the airfield proper came into view, a few hundred metres below them. Shipping containers and boxes filled the majority of the space, creating a maze of back alleys and paths in and out of the main terminal. The building in question had a few lights here and there, but was dark for the most part.

The Kühnluft Airfield, according to his research, had been built as a shuttle stop decades ago. However, as technology improved, the need for such a stop was slowly lost and the airfield had been more or less abandoned after the Shift. Only a few companies still used it to ship goods out of the country, and only a skeleton crew manned it now.

Which made it perfect for shipping stolen goods off world.

Sal nodded to Rose who glided up to him and raised a set of binoculars. They were her own, and heavily customized with various scanners and equipment. She skimmed the field quickly, speaking as she pinpointed the targets they’d already arranged.

Rose: “Alright fellas, I’ve got eyes on the bulk of Vohilla’s lot. Northwest quarter, next to that big container. Marking 87-RUQ. The last of the Ossillium refining is taking place about fifty metres left. No sign of the Shuttle yet."

Sal: “Got it. Guards?”

Rose: “Vohilla’s got plenty, but the airport’s guys are few and far between, like you thought. I see four, one walking away from Vohilla, another near that other tower on the right and two at the main entrance. Scanners detect at least three in the terminal and one more in the tower. That’s it.”

Strum: “Si, apart from the horde Ygrid’s brought with her, no?”

Rose: “Yes, apart from that.”

The group slipped back and got to their feet. Sal took in the faces of those that surrounded him. Each one carried a look of determination with them. They all knew the risks, knew what the stakes were, and knew that they had to succeed. Otherwise, who else would?

Sal: “Alright, you all know the plan. Wait for my signal, then go loud. Despite the minimal security here, Vohilla’s not looking for attention. Her lads’ll have silenced guns, so a few stray shots won’t be too bad, just keep it quiet. I don’t want Uek to know until we’re long gone. Got it?”

They all nodded in agreement.

Sal: “Good. I’ll meet you back here in an hour. Good luck.”

They all nodded again, a few smiles among them, and then they were off. Rose moved first, handing over her binoculars before attaching a small device to the ground. The contraption beeped once, and she attached her climbing rope onto it. Once it clicked into place, she sprinted soundlessly to the hill and flipped herself over. An instant later she was abseiling down the dark, rocky mass. She landed with a soft thud, unhooked the rope and was off again. Within seconds, even Sal’s eyes had lost her.

Damn. He was getting old.

The others took easier routes down the rise, careful to keep quiet. He heard a brief curse from Blaze as he nearly lost his footing in the undergrowth, followed by the eerie silence of night. Sal grunted to himself and returned to the rise, raising the tuned binoculars to his own eyes. He selected the scanner and searched for the agents in the inky darkness. He found them moments later, four outlines bent low in the grass, streaking toward their targets.

Crutch and Blaze had split off, moving toward the watchtower, whilst Rose and Strum made their way to the fence. They’d timed their approach well. The Core had trained them all for this.

A sigh escaped his lips and thoughts clouded his mind, especially from the last time he’d been present during one of these operations. He really wished those thoughts had died long ago.