The Adversary of Monarch

by Tidalwave21

Summary:

The year is 2026. When a colony of Meganula invades the surface, Monarch must rise again to face them. As a young woman known as Sandra Sookdeosingh tries to put her life back together, she seeks help from a mysterious man with a vendetta against the Titan-tracking organization.

Chapter 1: Smoke

Then from the smoke came locusts onto the earth, and they were given power like the power of scorpions of the earth.

“These have been some very hard days, ladies and gentlemen. Entire cities have been annihilated, billions of people have died. Even some countries have been lost. Friends, family, and loved ones are either dead or missing. The UN is scrambling to recoup its losses and the refugee crisis has become more widespread than ever. The world as we know it is over.

However, the attacks are over as well. All traces of Monster Zero are gone and Titan attacks have diminished. This is a light at the end of the tunnel. We have excellent leads on ways to keep Titans away from cities, and those strategies will be shared with the public. We can begin again.

But we have a lot of work to do. If we all pitch in we can make a difference and fix what has been broken. Infrastructure must be rebuilt, new means of production must be found, and new sources of food must be made. Monarch will be prepared to handle this, but we can’t do it alone. The trials aren’t over. There is still civil unrest in various parts of the world. Billions of people are in need of new homes. New threats will emerge from within our shattered societies.

We’ll adapt and rebuild. You’ll adapt and rebuild. It will be the hardest thing we’ve had to do, but I promise you it will be worth it.”

Mark Russell still remembered every word of Director Guillerman’s speech. He held his wedding picture with Emma Russell in between his thumb and forefinger. The only light in the room came from the desk in front of him. He wondered what Emma would think of Guillerman’s speech.

It had been years since the event. Some called it the Mass Awakening. Others called it the Rise of the Titans. Still others called it the Global Titan Emergence Event. Mark could only think of it as Emma’s Folly. Some days he felt as if he carried the weight of the shattered world on his shoulders. Emma had driven him away, but perhaps if he had fought harder to stay with her… No, one way or another Emma would have enacted her plan to release the Titans. Even so, people needed someone to blame. Now that Emma was dead, it was only natural to turn to him. Thousands had called for him to be prosecuted for his alleged role in Emma’s Folly.

Mark placed the picture back on the wooden table. He still remembered being told that his involvement in the events of 2019 and his estrangement from Emma had been the only reasons to not remove him from Monarch entirely. He remembered flying out to numerous locations to participate in relief efforts for those who had been displaced during Emma’s Folly. He had to show his face in as many shelters, rebuilt homes, solar panel constructions, and supply distributions as he could. It hadn’t just been his PR at stake, but Monarch’s PR as a whole. He had disliked leaving Maddie for days or weeks at a time, but it had to be done.

He looked up, hearing activity outside of his quarters. He wondered which Monarch personnel were active right now outside. He ignored it and picked the wedding picture back up. He remembered the last time he had flown out to aid in disaster relief. The damage in Hong Kong was extensive, yet that trip two years ago had been less nightmarish than his damage control trips right after Emma’s Folly. Most of his worries during the Hong Kong trip had been for Madison’s safety. Once he found her, things had quickly improved from there.

Mark held the picture, focusing on Emma’s wide smile and perfect white teeth. Of all the people who died in Emma’s Folly, he missed her the most. He wondered what she would think of the world she left behind. Glacial and polar ice had been replenished, dozens of endangered species had recovered their numbers, and deforestation in the Amazon had nearly been reversed since the destruction of Ghidorah. Nature had been healing just like she said it would. However, it came at a cost. It was estimated that 50% of human metropolitan areas had been rendered uninhabitable. Billions had died, either during the destruction or in the aftershocks of Emma's Folly. Even now, seven years later, Monarch still conducted or assisted in relocation projects in impoverished areas of the world.

Mark had no way of knowing if Emma would be happy with the outcome if she was alive. He did know that he wasn’t happy with it. He thought of Maddie again.

After the trauma of Boston, he had expected Maddie to focus on her books and leave the Titans to him. Instead, she had gone on another secret mission. He partially blamed himself. Maddie had watched him leave again and again to conduct his public facing missions. She would never just stand by while he did all the work. It wasn’t who she was. No amount of trauma would change that.

He had adapted to this situation. Instead of leaving his daughter at home with some babysitter who couldn’t control her, he brought her to his side.

A knock came at his door.

“Come in.” he said.

The thin door opened and he saw Maddie’s face in the dim yellow hallway light. At once he knew something was up. Her eyes connected with his own, and he saw it in her face. It reflected from her eyes like dirt on still water. Whatever it was, it couldn't be her fault. This did not resemble the look she’d given him that one time she had dropped and broke dishes in the kitchen at the old house. Mark wanted to know the situation. He wanted to ask, but he remained mute. He couldn’t deliver the words or the question to her.

“Dad, you need to see this.” she told him.

That word. Dad. It rubbed him the wrong way. At home he didn’t mind her calling him dad. But here at Castle Bravo, the word took on a unique and frightening sort of strangeness. Mark got up and walked to her. She turned and led him out into the hallway. They approached the Command room.

The sounds of people chatting and walking about greeted him from other areas of the building as the voices whispered through vents and a few walls. He followed Madison right, going through the open door. A virtual map of the globe loomed large on the master screen. In the situation room his eyes gravitated to Director Guillerman standing at the front of the room. He recognized the ones that sat including Rick Stanton, Ilene Chen, Jackson Barnes, and Sam Coleman. As his daughter sat among them he sat a few seats away from her.

“I am glad you could join us, Dr. Russell,” Guillerman started. “As we’re all aware, numerous false reports of Titan activity have continued coming in since the events in Hong Kong two years ago.”

Mark nodded. Even after Emma’s Folly, when all the Titans returned to hibernation, rumors of sightings still surfaced. Eventually they died down before resurfacing again after the mecha’s rampage in Hong Kong. Villages had allegedly been flooded with no signs of adverse weather, oil rigs had collapsed with their foundations seemingly eaten away, and strange lights had been reported across the world. Monarch had investigated many of these sightings but found nothing at their root. Mark had gotten used to calling foul on these rumors. Never out loud, of course.

“However,” Guillerman continued. “A lot of the newest reports have been concentrated around Sisters, Oregon. People have gone missing, eight over the past week. No trace of them has been found. Sisters is a small town surrounded by wilderness, so it is expected for a few people to go missing on occasion. But this rash of disappearances is an anomaly. More importantly, it is an anomaly we have noticed before.”

He paused, and in that pause Mark silently filled in what he would say, or what he would at least allude to. Emma’s Folly. Between Monarch and the U.S. military it had been all hands on deck all over the country, and the small town in Oregon had been no exception.

“During the 2019 Titan containment breaches, disappearances were reported at an unprecedented rate in Sisters,” he continued. The map of the globe zoomed in until an aerial view of Sisters, Oregon filled the screen. “The disappearances correlated with sightings of these creatures-” he clicked a button with the remote control in his hand, causing a picture of the creature to pop up on screen.

It was in mid-air. The first thing Mark noticed were the four wings. Long and jagged, they extended in pairs to the sides from fine points on the creature’s back. It reminded him of dragonfly wings. Except unlike actual dragonflies this creature’s wingspan was the length of a small car. At least, that was what Mark could tell based on the buildings around it. His zoologist’s brain immediately picked up on the massive compound eyes and guessed that the creature had keen vision. Mark counted three legs on its left side, so it had six legs. It was an insect. The insect’s slender forelegs terminated in long pincers. In the picture they were closed and looked thin but Mark guessed they could open into massive raptorial claws, like the meaty pincers of a scorpion. The rest of the legs didn’t appear to have pincers. But thorny spines adorned them. The long rod like tail, longer than the creature’s body, ended in a stinger.

“These creatures, known as Meganula, were likely responsible for the disappearances,” Guillerman said. “We never found where they came from. But sightings of them stopped right after the incident in Boston.”

Mark had been horrified when he first read about the creature on screen now. Yet these creatures being back didn't phase him as much as he thought it would. He found himself somehow confident in Monarch's ability to manage them.

“Any new pictures of those critters surfaced?” Rick Stanton asked. Mark recognized the curious, but cutting voice.

“No pictures yet. But since disappearances are starting again I’d like to send a team to investigate Sisters.” Guillerman declared.

Mark agreed. If those insects-well, meganula- came back it would be imperative to figure out where they came from. Now, for the first time in the meeting, Mark spoke.

“We need G-Team.” he said out loud.

Chapter 2: Dance to the Sirens

Summary:

Sandra's class period is interrupted by a reminder of the new world.

Every rectangular ceiling beam in the classroom shined bright white. Every beam except for one. It was the beam above a shelf at the wall. After half an hour of flickering, it had turned off. The kids sat quietly at their desks, heads down and pencils moving.

Sandra sat at the table at the front of the room. She looked over at the beam over the shelf, noticing that it had finally turned off. She chuckled to herself once she realized she had something in common with that light beam. They had both run out of energy for the day. Even the morning coffee had made no difference. Sandra planned to tell someone that the light needed to be replaced.

She scrolled through her curriculum list on her laptop, glad to at least be done with the lecture part of today.

A girl’s voice piped up from the back. “Ms. Singh?” it said. Sandra looked up. It had been a month since she had substituted for the teacher of this class, so she hardly knew the names of these kids. But she was pretty sure she knew this girl. Her pigtails were distinctive.

“Yes, Emily?” Sandra answered.

“I don’t understand adaptation,” the girl said.

“Adaptation?” Sandra said. “The definition is on page 132.”

Emily looked down at her page, then looked up at her teacher again. “I think I need an example.” she said.

Sandra quickly looked at the Natural Selection topics list on her laptop, then looked back at Emily. “Page 135 has a great example,” she said. “Termites adapt to their environment by living in colonies.”

“Why?” Emily asked.

“Well.” Sandra replied, thinking quickly. “Termites do things together that they can’t do alone.”

“Like build mounds?”

“Exactly! How did you figure that out?” Sandra asked.

“There are pictures of mounds on the page.” Emily said.

“Good, good.” Sandra said.

She looked at the clock. Just then, the blare of a loud siren rang through the room. At first Sandra thought she imagined it, then she remembered.

“Oh, the world we live in.” she muttered under her breath.

It sounded like an ambulance siren, but quicker and punchier. The heads of the children came up, almost in unison. Sandra got up from her chair and addressed them. “I’d like everyone to stand and form a neat, orderly line behind me.” she said, walking toward the door. “And I mean it. Quiet.”

The alarm blared on, muffling the footsteps of the children as they stood and quietly formed a line to their teacher. Sandra opened the door before looking back to make sure her kids all formed the line.

The alarm stopped. The principal’s gruff voice replaced it over the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, please line up outside the cafeteria and walk to the Titan shelter. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Sandra looked in the hallway and waited for a column of children to walk past her room. Once they passed she stepped into the hall, looking back and beckoning her kids to follow her. She saw the quick, jerky movement of a girl moving away from the line. Sandra had forgotten this girl’s name.

“Everyone, stay together.” she commanded. The girl jumped back in line, pretending as if she had never left it.

Sandra turned and walked in the direction of the cafeteria. She hadn’t thought she would find herself thinking about Titans while at work, but she just so happened to substitute for Mr. Martin on the day of this month’s Titan drill.

She sighed. The smell of cheese and moth balls hadn’t been so bad. It was only after she stepped outside that she knew how bad it really was. The trees left standing had swayed as if to the rhythm of the sirens. The entire sky had been red. She bit her lip, refusing to let her mind’s eye see more.

The door to the cafeteria hung open before her, propped by a door stopper. She led her kids into the cafeteria, following another teacher who led his own gaggle of students. Sandra distracted herself by looking at the walls. They were supposed to be dark blue but the paint had thinned, peeled away as if by invisible and nimble fingers. The thin yellow stains on the wall formed sickly trails to nowhere.

A vibrating moan started, so low that Sandra almost didn’t hear it. It sighed down through the room. As she walked she looked up at the beige ceiling and listened to it. The groan’s pitch rose slightly before lowering again. It settled in the cafeteria, damp and heavy, like some sort of audible fog. The pipes in the building made odd noises from time to time. This entire building showed its age.

The kids followed Sandra like obedient ducklings toward the open door leading outside. It had also been propped open with a door stopper. A cool wind blew in.

“I forgot my coat,” one boy said.

“It’s not that cold!” another told him.

Sandra stepped out the door outside and strode toward the sidewalk. Her flat black shoes stepped down the stone path. She looked ahead and saw other teachers with their children walking down the street. As she followed them she couldn’t help but think about how vulnerable they all were outside. There was no protection from a Titan’s wrath outside of a Titan shelter.

There had been no protection for those caught in the middle of the mecha Titan’s rampage, either. Sandra remembered that incident being all over the news two years ago. It had saved Monarch’s reputation, leading to Apex becoming the new scapegoat. Monarch had capitalized on the opportunity, propping up themselves and their monsters to be saviors again.

But Apex hadn’t built the ORCA and unleashed a horde of monsters on the world. Monarch had done that. Sandra would never understand how so many people could forget what had happened only a few years ago.

She continued walking down the street with her students following her. Her therapist had told her the day would come when she would realize she hadn’t thought of it at all. Yet she didn’t understand how that day could ever come. She still saw herself pull her trembling body from the storm cellar amongst the rubble.

“Are we there yet?” a kid’s voice asked.

“Not yet, honey.” Sandra replied, blinking herself out of her memory.

She looked up at the trees surrounding the houses. They swayed with the wind, leaning slightly from side to side. She lowered her gaze and pretended they didn’t sway to the sound of sirens. The urge to bite her lip came again, but she resisted it. Sandra pushed it all from her mind and walked on.

Chapter 3: The Stray Dog

Summary:

Sandra has a run-in with a stray dog and a man with an offer.

It had been a few days since she last substituted for a class.

Sandra walked on the sidewalk down some street with a name she could never remember. Her apartment had to be miles away by now. She chewed her gum and gripped the sharp outline of her phone in her shorts pocket. She thought about scrolling through her Facebook feed. She released her grip on the phone and brought her hand up to wipe her eye. It wasn’t wise to distract herself now. Not while she was so far from home.

A small cloud covered the sun, providing a welcome relief from the heat. She turned a corner, walking next to a large overgrowth of bushes beside a busy street. Despite having walked farther than she was used to, Sandra decided to go a little farther out. She knew that once she got into the safety of her apartment she would have no excuse not to check on her old friends.
Once she started with one social media platform, she would go onto the next and the one after that.

She had given up on trying to message the ones that still lived close by. They had stopped responding to her a long time ago. Sandra occasionally messaged a girl from her birthplace of Ontario, Canada. But they could never meet. She had two other people who would respond to a text, but they were little more than pen pals as well.

Stiff branches and long leaves reached out to her as the bushes leaned in her direction from the wind. Feeling a little anxious, she walked faster. Then Sandra slowed down. She looked at the thick foliage and wondered if they would make a good setting for a photo.

She looked away and strolled onward. No, this wouldn’t do. Her flat black shoes took her past the last of the foliage and a fence that held it back from the freshly cut grass beyond it. Sandra now strode by an empty playground. She glanced at it and saw that it wasn’t as empty as it appeared. She spat out her gum.

A German shepherd, ears high in the air, barked at her. Its tail wagged rapidly. The dog barked again.

Sandra’s eyes widened and her hand stretched out to do the come-on gesture at the dog. Sandra was leery about human strangers, but dogs were A-okay in her book.

“Come on! Come here boy!” she yelled. She had no idea if the dog was male or female, but it didn’t matter. The dog now headed toward her in an excited trot. She walked toward the dog to meet it halfway on the grass. There were risks interacting with strays, but she didn’t care. She threw her arms wide open. The dog ran into her arms, panting. She fell to her side on the grass with a grunt. Her fingers dug into the warm black fur of its back while the muzzle poked her belly and chest before sniffing her neck. She reached behind her head and moved her single braid out of the way of the canine’s rapid and determined inspection of her. She felt around the neck and found nothing but a puffy layer of fur where a collar should have been. The dog shook and trembled with excitement in her grasp.

“Yep,” she said. “Of course you’re a stray. What are you doing out on your own?''

The German shepherd seemed boisterous. Its excited, almost hyperactive energy reminded Sandra of children she had taught. She petted its neck and head further, then got up. Flicking loose strands of grass from her hair she checked around to make sure no one witnessed her get tackled by a dog. Luckily, no pedestrians were in sight. She walked back toward the sidewalk. The dog now walked beside her with a perpetually wagging tail. From time to time, its wandering nose came to her bare leg and sniffed it.

Sandra felt content in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. A dog would easily chase away the silence that had dominated her life for so long. It wasn’t as good as having actual friends around, but it was something.

“You wanna come home with me?” she asked. The dog sniffed her again, raising its eyes to meet hers as she gazed down at it. “Sounds like a yes.”

As she leaned down to scratch under the dog’s neck she noticed a Japanese man walking toward her. Immediately she rose back up and watched him. As he came closer, he increased his pace. Something about the way he walked and set his eyes on her awakened an odd thought in her mind. His demeanor reminded her of a detective who had just found his first lead. His eyes flicked to the dog then right back to her.

“Hey!” he called with a wave of his hand and a smile. “You found my dog!” He wore a black jacket with a collar that rose high enough to completely conceal his neck.

When he got within a couple feet of her the dog barked and raced toward him. He stooped low and petted it, rubbing the dog’s head and neck. She came toward the two of them, feeling a surprising sense of loss.

“Thought it was my lucky day.” Sandra said, smiling an empty smile.

The man rose up and his eyes met her own again. “He tends to run,” he said.

“What’s his name?”

To her surprise the man only shrugged. “I just got him from the shelter. I haven’t even given him a name yet.”

This piqued Sandra’s interest. “Well, I have a few suggestions.” She said helpfully. The feeling of opportunity came to her. As if she had gotten her foot in the door. She just wasn’t sure what that door led to.

Just then the man’s expression changed. He stopped smiling. A calm seriousness took over his face. In that moment a shadow of worry crossed her mind, yet she hardly noticed it.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Sandra.” the man said.

That shadow of worry grew brighter once she heard her name come from his lips. “Excuse me?” she said.

“You’ve been seeking out Monarch. And I completely understand why.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” she narrowed her eyes at him.

The man pulled something from his pocket. Sandra looked down and saw an FBI badge in his right hand. He flipped it open and it showed his face and spelled out his name. Ben Tanaka.

Sandra felt a chill come over her. That bright shadow of worry now solidified into something cold and metallic. Dread hung over her as she wondered what she was in trouble for. Then it crashed onto her like a tidal wave as she thought about all the research she had done on Monarch. She wondered if she had gone somewhere she shouldn’t have online. She thought maybe she illegally accessed some classified page. Whatever it was, the FBI was now onto her. The dog sat at their feet but all thoughts of it left her mind.

“We need to have a chat.” the man said.

“You’re FBI?” she asked. As if asking the question, getting that clarification, would make whatever trouble this was go away.

The man nodded, then motioned with his hand for her to come with him. The dog followed him at his feet and she followed behind him. He walked to a sleek black car, opened the passenger seat, then circled around to the driver’s side door. The dog climbed into the driver’s side door and squeezed into the back seats. Sandra got into the passenger seat and closed the door. Ben Tanaka climbed into the driver’s seat.

As the car sped off, Sandra began biting her lip. She stayed quiet, wondering what would come next. She was sure it wouldn’t be anything good.

“What’s your interest in Monarch?” he asked. His stone face only acknowledged the road in front of him. He turned a corner. Sandra hesitated, but decided that she needed to come clean. The FBI would probably perform an investigation on her anyway.

After all, she wasn’t ashamed of what she had tried to do.

“You’re right, I’ve been looking into them,” she said with a bolder voice than she expected. “They’re responsible for enabling the Titans, but the world loves them. I want to find out what they’re hiding.” She looked right at him.

“You think they’re responsible?”

“Whole time. Since the very beginning, since before that.” She turned back to the road. “I was a journalist at the time so I wanted to expose them. But that didn’t work out. I thought if I can dig up whatever they’re hiding now, I could use it to get my career back.” The dog shifted in the seats back there. She heard restless fur rubbing against the gray, fuzzy material. The bark came, excited and uncomprehending.

“Journalism? Interesting.” He stopped at a traffic light.

It was the first friendly comment he had made during the drive. It helped relax Sandra a little. Maybe things weren’t so bad. Still, she wondered if what she was about to say next was wise. She sighed.

“One of the Titans they released blew down my old house. I lost my friends, my community, stuff I owned. And there are millions more like me. All over the world! Monarch shouldn’t get away with it. I want them to pay. I don’t care what it takes.”

A smile came to the man’s face. He nodded slowly. She looked at the road and saw him turn down her street. Familiar buildings slid by. The car began to slow down. For the first time, Ben turned to her, still grinning that devious grin. His eyes grinned too. They grinned like a car salesman who just found his next customer.

“What if I told you I have a way to get you everything you want?”

Sandra’s eyes narrowed.

“If only you knew what Monarch is covering up,” he mused. “If you want them to pay for what they have done, I can help you.”

The burden of fear began to lift from her. But suspicion threatened to replace it. She pursed her lips. “What does the FBI want with Monarch?” she asked, trying to get a read on him.
The car finally stopped in front of her apartment. Ben grabbed a palm-sized piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. It had a phone number scrawled on it.

“I am no FBI agent,” he said. “But if you’re interested, contact me.”

Her mouth hung open. Her suspicion inflamed into anger. “How did you know so much about me? My name, my place, the things that I do? How the hell did you even get that badge?”

“You will know all this and more if you call that number. Tonight.”

“Are you shitting me?” she raged. She looked at the dog, wondering if he had somehow faked the animal as well. It didn’t appear to be holographic to her, though. “For real? Why would I ever call you? You lied to me!”

“All I ask is that you at least consider it,” he said. His voice hadn’t even risen a whisper higher than normal. His eyes remained stately. “I’m not alone. You’d be with many like-minded people, and we have information.” He looked back at the dog. “You can keep him. If you want.”

Sandra gaped at him, pocketing his piece of paper. She opened the door, slammed it, and walked to her apartment door. Just before she opened the door she stopped. She thought about the dog, how cute he had been. The eyes, big and brown, stood out in her mind. The thought of even looking back at this man was hateful, let alone going back to him. A shaky sigh came out of her.

She turned around and walked back to the car. She tried her best to appear less begrudging than she felt. In her mind’s eye she looked extremely confident and intimidating in her stride. But as she strode back to Ben the Fake FBI Agent she swore she saw smugness dance on his face. Sandra made sure to maintain her baleful glare on him.

“Yes. I’d like to keep him.” she said, dragging every word out.

Ben Tanaka smiled. “He’s all yours.”

Sandra opened the back door. The German shepherd leaped out, bounced off her chest and landed on the road in an excited tumble. He barked. She gave his neck another scratch before leading him away from Ben the Fake FBI Agent. Sandra stole another look back and saw that the back door of his car still hung open. She turned away, feeling a modicum of satisfaction. It served him right.

She walked on, leading her new dog. Behind her, a car door slammed. Then another. A gentle engine noise came as it sped off. She looked down at the dog. He seemed calmer now. His tail no longer wagged, but she got the sense that he was content anyway.

“At least I got you out of all this.” she said to him. She opened the door to her apartment and they both walked inside.

Chapter 4: On the Outside

Summary:

Sandra names her dog and tries to move past her grief. But the mysterious man reaches out to her again.

Normally when Sandra came home after a walk she’d take a shower and take a nap. Today however, she had to entertain a new guest.

The German shepherd sat in front of her on the carpet. His mouth hung halfway open. His cute eyes stared at her, awaiting what they’d do next. She looked at him with both hands on her hips. She couldn’t help but smile.

“You’d follow me wherever I go, wouldn’t you? Yes, you would.”

The dog raised his head in response to her voice.

She turned to pace. “I should totally name you,” she said. The dog followed her as she walked toward her drawer. She looked back at him and thought she saw curiosity in his eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Let’s see…” Multiple male names flipped through her mind like pages in a book. A few stood out to her like bright ripe fruits on a shrub. But she could only have one of them. She proceeded to pluck and examine each of them one by one, up close.

“I could call you Rob,” she said. Rob was the name of a protagonist from her favorite show A Skyless Reality. But it didn’t sit well with her. When she looked at the dog, she didn’t see a Rob. The name just didn’t fit around him. It would be like giving someone a shirt that was too tight. Mentally, she reached to pluck another name.

“Maybe Brock?’ she suggested. She shook her head. “No, screw that.” Brock was a tough name. He was a cutie pie. It didn’t match him with those big eyes of his. She reached for the next ripe name.

“Ian sounds nice.” as Sandra said it, memories began flipping through her mind. The memories went like the names from before, but much faster. She could only sense bits of each of them. The sound of laughter, the taste of ice cream, the sight of that one amusement park, and many more flashes of better times with her comrades.

She mentally corrected herself. They were once-comrades, not comrades now. Past, not present. A thought sprang up at that correction. The busybody, chastising, moralizing voice no one likes spoke up in her mind. If those people were in her past, why did she still spend time thinking about them? Why was she about to name her dog after one of them? Sandra kicked that voice away. She kicked it to the darkest depths of her mind.

“Yeah,” she said with a dry mouth. “I’ll name you Ian.” Ian had been the last person who left. There was always a last, be it the last ray of sunlight that surrendered to the darkness, the last drop of beer in the bottle, or even the last breath of air that escapes a dying person’s lips. Ian had been the last man. But there had been something special about him, more than just him being the last man standing.

It didn’t matter. With the important task done Sandra proceeded to kick off her shoes. As Ian went to rest next to the bed she ventured to the bathroom to get the shower ready. She slipped into her shower slippers as well as the routine motions of showering. As the water began to run her mind drifted to Ben Tanaka. She figured he probably only used Ian to lure her. The water grew hotter, and so did her anger.

“I should’ve beat his ass.” she muttered.

After showering and changing, Sandra felt the fire of motivation fill her. She marched to her desk, sat in her rolling chair, and opened her laptop. She checked the time. It was 5:00 PM. Time still remained in the day. She searched for journalist jobs on every job-seeking site she could. She kept separate tabs open on her browser, one for each. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed in her information, answered questions, and wrote a few required essays. Eventually she lost track of how many times she clicked Submit Application.

An hour went by. Then another. At some point Ian came up to her and sat next to the chair. She petted him before he went back to his spot beside her bed. He sank down on his belly and into the tranquility of the room. Sandra still worked, only sparing a minute to drink from her water bottle. Once it grew dark outside, mild exhaustion began creeping into her fingers and eyes. She submitted an application to the EO Media Group. A spark of hope, tiny as could be, came with it. She drank her water before scrolling down the jobs list. As she started the next application the intrusive thoughts threatened again.

As tiredness spread across her mind, she found it hard to hold back thoughts about old friends, old memories, and old troubles. It had been several months since the nightmares had stopped, but she still remembered a few of them. She and her therapist hoped they’d never come back. In her dark dreams she sometimes saw the Titans. Grimly misshapen, the immense monstrosities came for her. Their alien limbs shook the earth as they walked. They always came to smash into the ground everything she held dear.

Sometimes she would see Monarch. Oh, how she hated thinking about them. And Ben Tanaka, that lying sack of shit, had made her think about Monarch. They had never been shy of the spotlight. She always saw them on the news, either at some hearing or a disaster relief effort. They seemed friendly, but she knew that was only the aspect they showed in public. Monarch was famously good at PR. However, she often imagined several faceless men and women in suits behind closed doors. They sat together and decided what fate would befall the world.

She remembered reading about the infamous Milgram experiment long ago. Ignorant subjects were told to flip switches and give painful electric shocks to some unfortunate soul in the next room. Despite the screams of the victim, the subjects continued flipping the switches to unleash the torturous shocks. In Sandra’s old nightmares she saw the Monarch council, cold and pitiless in their dark room, pushing buttons and flipping switches to cause the whole world endless pain. Despite the pleas and screams from those unable to escape the Titans, the Monarch council continued flipping the switches. Unlike the victims in the Milgram experiment, the victims of Monarch weren’t actors. They were real. Their suffering was real.

Her eyes began to blink more frequently. She grabbed her bottle and drained it before tossing it at her recycle bin. The bottle sailed over the blue bin and landed hollowly on the carpet near it. Sandra blinked wearily. She got up from her chair to prepare to go to sleep.

A rumble came from her desk, giving her pause. Her eyes went huge and fell on her phone as it vibrated on the smooth, wooden desk. She shot for it and answered the call, wondering if it was too much to hope one of these employers had decided to call her. She wondered which media organization she would soon be speaking to.

“Hello?” she said in a cheery tone.

The line was silent for a few seconds. “Hello, this is an urgent message regarding your health insurance.” a robotic voice droned. “Your records indicate you have not-” she hung up.

Sandra wanted to scream. But instead she squeezed the phone in her fingers until her hand trembled. She took a breath before placing it down on the table. Another scam call. Of course.

“Why the hell would any of them accept me?” Sandra wondered aloud. She needed to head to bed before she exploded from frustration. She glanced back at Ian. He had fallen asleep. Just then she realized she needed to feed him.

“Oh shit.” she muttered. Luckily, she knew where a Petco was not far from here.

She threw on a jacket and trousers before grabbing her wallet. Looking up the store on her phone she saw that it remained open. Grabbing her wallet and keys she left the room. She descended to the first floor on the elevator. The doors opened. Sandra hurried out and turned left. She felt tired and wanted to get this impromptu shopping trip over with.

“Sandy?” the voice of the receptionist called. She paused and turned to the desk to see Charles at the desk.

“Yes?” she answered, partly annoyed that he had called her that. She approached his desk.

He leaned over in his seat and picked up two large green bags of dog food. He laid them on the counter right next to the glass separating him from Sandra. He leaned over again and picked up two more bags. One of them had a post-it note attached to its top.

“Apparently these are for you.” he told her. Charles grabbed one of them and reached around the large square glass pane and handed it to her. Sandra inspected it. The yellow post-it note faced her, offering the message written on it. FROM A FRIEND, it said.

“From a friend?” she read aloud. Her eyes traveled up from the bag to him. “Who gave you this?”

Charles gasped, his hand clutching his chest in mock surprise. “Wow! You don’t assume I’m the friend? You break my heart, Sandy.”

Sandra laughed. “I’d slap the shit outta you if you gave me dog food as a gift.” That got a chuckle out of him.

“Some dude I’ve never seen before walked in and dumped it all on me,” he said earnestly. “Didn’t give me his name. Said it was for you specifically.”

“For me, huh?” She turned the paper bag over in her hands, examining it as if she would find further clues. But she didn’t need to. There was only one person who had never been in the apartment yet knew she had a dog now. She had a pretty good idea who her mysterious benefactor was.

“Yeah,” Charles said, humor sneaking into his tone once more. “Either you’ve got a secret admirer or someone owes you.”

Sandra considered telling him exactly who she thought might have given him these. But she didn't feel like explaining so much to him just now. She came forward and took the rest of the bags in her arms. “See you later, Charlie.” She walked back to the elevator. On her way up to the fourth floor she thought back to Ben. She felt the urge to call him and ask him if he sent her the dog food. Knowing him, that was probably exactly what he wanted. She could already see him wearing that smug smile which pissed her off.

The doors opened and she walked out. On her way to her door she remembered all the journalist positions she had applied for. If Ben was telling even half the truth he had information that could be key to landing her a job she wanted. As she turned her key in the lock she felt the weight of the phone in her pocket. Just one call could fix everything. She entered the dark room and closed the door. She noticed herself biting her lip again and sighed. As she flicked on the light she tried to remember where the paper with Ben’s number was.

After setting the dog food bags down she rifled through her laundry bag and found the shorts she wore earlier. Her deft fingers found the right pocket and dug out the piece of paper. She roughly pushed the pants back in the bag and raised up on her feet. She looked at the digits carefully. For a moment a memory came. Lights flashed on the dance floor all around her while she held a piece of paper with some cute guy’s number.

Sandra rubbed her eyes, shoving the memory down. She set the paper and phone on her desk and proceeded to change into her sleeping clothes. While she brushed her teeth, Ian’s barks let her know he was awake. Sandra fed him before turning the lights off and climbing into bed.

“Good night Ian.” she said with a yawn. She had nearly decided to call Ben Tanaka, and part of her still wanted to. But she’d leave that for the morning.

And so she sank into a dream. She sank deep into the fabric of time and the dream brought her to that terrifying day. That day in the cellar beneath the earth. Her friends surrounded her. The only light down there came from the candles all of them had brought. The thunder of the worst storm in existence grew louder and more monstrous. The chairs, shelves, and walls shook around them. In the candle light Sandra looked at Jessica, Connor, Ian, Aish, and Eddie in turn. Each of them looked back at her as well. In their eyes she saw otherworldly fright. All six of them got on the ground, eyes huge with fright and staring up at the ceiling. The rough stone of the floor dug into Sandra’s fingers. They knew what was coming. The Titan alert had informed them of the creature headed their way: the fire bird.

As the immense roar of what sounded like a train approached overhead, she heard Ian command everyone to hold hands. He was the unofficial leader of their squad. He decided what they would do whenever they met up. And now he decided how they would all get through this. Yet his voice sounded distorted. Muddled. It seemed to come from underwater. Sandra grabbed Jessica’s hand with her left and Aish’s hand with her right. The others followed suit. The six stayed on their knees, hands held in a circle.

The candles vibrated on the table. Their lights shook like trembling stars in a dark sky. The roar grew louder still. Their hands remained joined in the circle while Ian uttered a prayer for all of them. Finally the vast train sound steamrolled directly overhead, drowning out their panicked rapid-fire heartbeats. Thunder smashed mammoth planks together. A ripping, rending sound followed as trees were torn from their roots. Sandra thought at any second their shelter would be obliterated from above. Still, Ian continued his prayer. Sandra couldn’t quite hear what he said but it didn’t matter. His voice didn’t yield to the rage of the squall over their heads. They listened to the world fall apart all around them. Yet their joined hands and shared bond remained the one good thing.

She woke up with a violent tremble. A warm sweat was on her. She took deep and frantic breaths like she had been holding them the entire night. She pushed herself into a sitting position right in front of her pillow. She’d have to tell her therapist her streak of peaceful dreams had broken. Yet somehow she missed the dream. Despite the terror of that day, Sandra missed it. It had been the last time they had all been together. As she sat up in bed she still remembered the joined hands. She felt the touch of Jessica and Aish’s hands in hers, but it faded as soon as she noticed it. All alone, she had nothing.

“Damn it.” she whispered.

Her mind ventured to the gargantuan number of applications she slaved over last night. Her hopes for them weren’t high. All the applications had been sent, but for one reason or another she wouldn’t get picked. The media outlets would cut her out before even giving her a chance. They’d keep her on the outside, and she couldn’t stand it any longer.

She threw off her covers and walked over to the laptop. As the soft light of the morning drifted through her window she opened the computer and logged in. Immediately she checked her email. Her eyes scanned down the page, looking over all the scams and false offers in her inbox. She was sure it would be barren, not a single true opportunity to be found-

One of the emails stood out. It was like finding a single bright flower in a dry, desolate field.

It was from the Oregon Public Broadcast. She remembered this application. It had been for an open politics news editor position. Her breath came out in shaky surprise. She clicked the email. Sandra scanned the words on the page more than she read them, looking for keywords. Once her eyes landed on the word “interview” she stopped and began rereading the message.
They wanted her to come in for an interview. They wanted her to talk about her experience with writing and news media. She instantly thought about her internship so long ago, as well as her previous journalism gig. Sandra clicked reply before her fingers flew on the keyboard, detailing her availability for the week. She had a wealth of experience to share, and by all that was good and holy it would land her this job.

She sent her reply. All that remained was for the Oregon Public Broadcast to schedule the interview. Sandra felt voiceless in her joy. It had been so long since she had been this happy, yet her optimism felt eternal. As if it had always been there, unnoticed but brighter than a supernova.

She stood up from her rolling chair, pushing it back. Her eyes fell on the piece of paper with Ben’s phone number on it. It sat next to her phone on the table. She grabbed it, bounced over to the recycle bin and tossed it in. She’d never need him again.

Chapter 5: Earth's Black Holes

Summary:

Monarch finds that their newest problem comes from a place known as Devil's Cave.

David Everett sat in the bakery. The middle of the morning had come and it was quiet. That was just how he liked it. He sat at the small table topped with the large green umbrella. His contact had reserved it for him.

He could have done this meeting virtually. He could’ve. But it was clear to him that his contact was old fashioned. And, if he was being honest, David had been glad to leave the Monarch outpost for a change. It was terribly easy to feel closed up in there.

David found himself staring at the walls. The smooth rows of wood satisfied his eyes. A heavyset man in khakis walked out from behind the counter where customers ordered their food. He looked toward the table. His eyes fell on David, then he walked over.

David rose to shake the man’s hand. “Mr. Sullivan?” he asked.

“Yessir,” he said. “Dr. Everett?” they shook hands.

David nodded. “Please, just call me Dave.”

They sat down. David quickly assessed the man. Lee Sullivan, the proprietor of this bakery, had heard many things during his long tenure here in the city of Bend. He seemed ready to unwind a tale. David decided to see just how ready he was.

“May I record this conversation?” he asked.

“I’ll have to ask that you don’t, sir.” the man replied.

“Alright. That’s fine.” David said.

“May I offer you anything?” Mr. Sullivan asked. “Coffee or water, perhaps?”

“Just water.” David obliged.

Mr. Sullivan turned around in his chair. “Tara!” he called. “Water for both of us!”

As the gentleman turned back around David thought of his first question. “What was his name?” he asked.

“Trevor Zegler,” Mr. Sullivan said. “German fellow. You should see his wife. Alissa Zegler. Cute red-headed thing.”

David nodded. “Is that who you heard this from?”

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “Heard it from Trevor’s cousin Gregory. He was out with Trevor that day.”

“What were they out doing?” David asked.

“Well, they were hikin.” Mr. Sullivan answered. “Trev always hiked out on the Scott Pass trail. Three or so odd miles. That trail was his idea of an easy hike. Turned down an afternoon of playing tennis with some folks in order to hike the trail that day. He loved tennis, but I s’pose he loved hikin more.”

“Did they notice anything strange that day before the hike?”

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “Day was the same as all days. And believe me, nothing would have put Trevor off a hike. The forest was never frightening to him. Alissa might have scared, but not him.”

“Was Gregory just as brave?”

“Ayuh. Well, I wouldn’t describe it as brave. Not with these guys. Nothing brave about doing something they aren’t afraid of. Greg loved the woods too. He had no one at home here. He had a fling down in Bend for a while, but it didn’t work out. I’ve heard that he had eyes for Alissa. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if she had joined them on the trail that day. If she hadn’t been so afraid.”

David nodded as he listened.

“They were always advised to carry guns. But Trev preferred to carry bear spray. Greg carried a .38 caliber. Carried it legally. Most of the hike was ordinary according to Greg. Birds chirped, squirrels ran about, the leaves blew in the wind.”

“Did Gregory mention other hikers on the trail?”

“Ayuh. Scott Pass is popular, especially with the kids in their twenties. Trev and Greg came by a group of three that he knew also hiking the same trail. Joe, Jerry, and Melissa. Them three didn’t act strange. Didn’t seem like they saw anything strange. They took pictures, talked, did all the things you’d expect on a trail. From what Greg told me, clouds covered the sun every so often, but it was mostly a bright day.”

Mr. Sullivan paused. His dull and hazy eyes looked through David as they filled with the memory. It seemed almost like he wanted to hold the memory back. But he didn’t.

“I tell you, Dave. The way Greg looked at me just before he started tellin this part was bonkers. His wasn't the face of a scared man. It was the face of a loony man. I could’ve sworn he’d gone crazy just from rememberin. Even his voice became like something from a dream. He told me he heard what he figured were propellers. Except they didn’t sound quite right for propellers. And Greg swore he heard ‘em. Sounds got him so tight-wired, too.”

David gulped. He’d seen the pictures of the creatures. They looked like dragonflies.

“The propeller noises stopped,” Mr. Sullivan continued. “But these two, they still felt like something was off. Greg drew his pistol, looked around. Saw nothing. But turns out, they were lookin too low. And Greg described these woods as quiet, Dave. So quiet his breathin was loud as a twister in his ears. That right there’s how they knew whatever it was was still around. Greg looked up and to his left and saw what looked like a gigantic dragonfly stuck right on a tree.”

David cracked his knuckles. “These men, did they hear about the disappearances from seven years ago?”

Mr. Sullivan nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. They knew. Thought it was the work of these creatures, too.”

“Did they ever consider the creatures when they heard the noise in the woods?”

“Greg ain’t consider anything when he heard those noises. He was too outta his mind with fright. But when he talked to me he said he knew it was them dragonflies from seven years before. The bastard he saw on that tree was big. Its wings-” he spread his arms as wide as he could- “-were that big according to him. Had claws like a scorpion and the color of roast turkey.”

David nodded as he listened. A woman came from behind the counter and sauntered between two wooden poles. As she walked past a couple windows sunlight softly fell onto her light blue uniform and skirt. She carried a large glass cup in each hand. She placed the glasses in between the men before placing two straws, still in wrappers, on the table.

“Anything else I can get you?” she asked. Mr. Sullivan only shook his head. David thanked her before she left.

“Greg didn’t bother shootin at it. They just ran. Ran like the wind. Then what he described as a high pitched propeller noise started up. That was when another of the creatures appeared above and in front of them. It came down and just hovered there like a damned tree ornament. Its wings buzzed in the air like on a regular dragonfly. Greg started blastin. But if he hit it, it sure didn’t fall. Then it swooped down on him but he ducked and ran. He heard claws snappin about him, trying to get him. Says they made the sound of bullwhips. Didn’t stop him from runnin though.”

David tore out his straw and placed it in his water. The ice cubes inside clinked against each other. “Did any of the creatures make contact with Greg?”

“Nope, but he says he heard Trev scream. Says it was the damndest thing he’d heard. The man turned and saw two of them just… on him.” Mr. Sullivan quaked in his seat. “The things he described those creatures doing to him, they’re just ghastly. Peeled Trev’s face like an orange. Pulled out his damned guts. And then they just carried him off!”

“Carried him off?” David sipped his water.

“Oh yeah. Flew off into the sky with him. They must’ve been strong to lift him up with their pincers. And I have no reason to assume Greg lied to me.”

“Where do you think the creatures came from?”

At this, Mr. Sullivan leaned forward in his chair to look at David. His once relaxed shoulders now became tense. He frowned right at David and his voice lowered into a growl. “You know damn well where they come from. Same place they all come from. Underground. And Dave, everyone knows they belong to you.”

“Monarch?”

His voice returned to normal. “Oh yeah, that’s the name of your organization. Its you folks’ job to keep these creatures from goin mad. I seen your people on the news capturin and trappin these things. But a lot of them are also getting loose! Is anything I’m sayin a lie?”

David sighed. He had known the conversation would reach this point sooner or later. He mentally reached into his well of prepared responses, but Mr. Sullivan interrupted him.

“A lot of good people have died. Our people. And you’re sittin here talkin to me rather than catchin the bastards that did the killin.”

David had been ready for this sort of accusation. “We need a place to start, Mr. Sullivan. A lead. Does anyone know where they go? Is there a location where people see them the most?”

Sullivan sat back in his chair again. He nodded his head in thought for a few seconds. “You want a lead?” he asked. “Try Devil’s Cave.”

David took a pen from his shirt pocket and withdrew a piece of paper from his pants pocket. The name Devil’s Cave had already been written on his paper. He added a tally next to it. Number five. Four other people had given him that name.

“Where is this… Devil’s Cave?”

“Look to the Three Sisters. Bout a mile or so east of the Broken Top Trailhead. Big ole cave. I’ve never been there myself, but strange tales always come from there.”

“What kinds of tales?” David asked.

“Rumors of things comin' outta the cave. Some have gone missing in suspicious ways and folks talk about feeling like something was followin them in those woods. They’ve heard unexplainable noises out there, too.”

David nodded along. He had heard of high strangeness from Devil’s Cave already. It had recently occurred to him that Hollow Earth entrances had always been hotspots of strange phenomena and folklore. Skull Island had its history of ships and planes going missing. Strange lights were sometimes seen near the Darvaza Gas Crater.

Even Hong Kong, which hosted the newest Hollow Earth entrance, had experienced its share of unusual phenomena. During the initial efforts to rebuild the city, hazmat teams deployed in the area of Kowloon Bay had reported unexplained rises and falls in temperature, UFOs high in the night sky, and inexplicable malfunctions in electrical equipment. It was as if Hollow Earth entrances drew strange phenomena the same way black holes might draw in light.

“In fact,” Mr. Sullivan said. “Devil’s Cave has a wide hole in it. The few who have come close enough to the cave have spoken of it. No one knows why it’s there or where it goes. But I reckon it’s deep.”

David locked on. “How long have you known about this hole?”

“I’ve heard about it for years. I think it was way back when I was a young'un that I started hearing about it. Hell, maybe even before that.”

“Have you considered that perhaps the creatures came from down there?” David asked. The doorbell jangled at the bakery entrance as two men walked in.

Mr. Sullivan shrugged. “It’s possible. But everyone’s figured the pit’s been around ever since before your monsters. Why would they only come out of it now?”

“Have any dragonfly creatures been seen near this cave?”

Mr. Sullivan shook his head. “But hardly anyone even goes near the damned cave. The few who do always sense some kind of crazy shit. I used to work with a man who actually hiked the trail over there after dark once. Told me he heard nothing in those woods that night. No crickets, frogs, nothing. But he smelled something rancid. Like nothing he’s ever smelled in the woods before. He felt a mighty urge to leave the trail, so he left.”

Mr. Sullivan smiled a little. But the smile’s corners quivered ever so slightly.

“Long time ago there was a story of a father who went mad,” he continued. “Came to the cave and threw his kid down the hole before jumping in himself. Never seen again. Dogs refuse to go near the place. Go into barking fits if you bring them near. Some folks think the dragonfly monsters come from there, but no one really knows for sure.”

David wrote notes of the conversation on his paper. They had a potential entrance and sure enough it seemed to attract strange phenomena. It fit the pattern, but there was only one way to be sure.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
July 12, 2026

From the notes of Walter R. Riccio

I cannot believe that eleven years ago we only had five Hollow Earth entrances in Monarch records. Now we’re dealing with more.

Yesterday I received news of the confirmation. Landsat imaging mapped the mountains all around Sisters. Three Sisters they’re called. Rick figured that any entrance would be there. He was right. It goes down to the Earth’s mantle and it may be where the meganula are coming from.

The real surprise is that the whole town knows about the entrance already. In fact, locals have known about it for years. The interviewed townsfolk weren’t very quick to talk. A few did though. They have a sort of pseudo-folklore that surrounds that place. Devil’s Cave, they call it. People, from amateur hikers to seasoned mountain climbers, avoid that cave like the plague. Why?

Guillerman is moving to get that Hollow Earth tunnel sealed by the engineers. Russell seconds the motion. But that doesn’t fix the problem of the meganula already on the surface. But I know where this is going. They’re gonna have to kill them all. But it won’t be easy. Because if the ancient legends are right, these creatures can gather in swarms.

Chapter 6: An Awakening

Summary:

An astonishing call back from Sandra's potential employer convinces her to take action against Monarch again.

“And why would we leave? There’s only six of us!”

“Because my boyfriend’s out there,” the woman in the trenchcoat said as the candlelight flickered on her face. “And he’s being held hostage by the Wicked Witch!”

Ominous music played as the camera panned up away from the six characters who stood together. The camera rose high in the dark to exhibit the endless rows of shelves. In the distance, a massive pile of objects formed what looked like a mountain under the store roof. The screen went black. Sandra watched as the credits began to roll, sliding upward on her laptop window. It had been her fourth time binging all three seasons of A Skyless Reality. She reached into her bag of chips and pulled out the last chip. Sunlight shone through her open window. As she ate the chip, Ian bounded up to her on excited paws.

At the sound of the German shepherd’s huff she turned the bag’s empty opening to him. “Sorry, it’s all gone!” she told him. The dog nuzzled her arm before she rolled her chair around so she could directly play with him. Ian’s front paws flew up and he pounced on her. She laughed as the smell of wet dog engulfed her. His relentless licking tongue made short work of her face.
He leapt from her and bounded to the door. His nose bumped against the beige frame and he looked back at her, tongue lolling from his mouth with exuberance.

Sandra grabbed her phone from her desk. “Oh come on,” she said, exasperated. “I just took you out for a walk earlier!”

Her thumb worked her phone, unlocking it and side swiping to her social media apps. She went into autopilot despite the nagging voice in her head. The pictures of her old friends flashed by on the screen. Aish, eating ice cream with her cat sitting nearby. Ian, with his blond hair and glasses, sunning himself on the deck of a cruise ship. She fought the urge to bite her lip.

She had gotten used to this ritual. By now she had gotten used to the black hole of mingled shame and fury which opened up inside her when she did it. In the beginning she had tried to get rid of it, but there was no fighting against it. She kept scrolling because she had to know. The little glimpses into their lives would never satisfy her but the glimpses were better than nothing.

The dog barked and sat in front of the door. At the sound, the black hole zipped closed like a winter coat over cold skin. Closed but not gone. Not forgotten.
Sandra’s phone winked off. She pushed it into her pocket before rising from her chair to look at Ian. He barked again. His rump bounced from the floor and his tail began its wagging routine.

“Alright already!” she said with a grin. Sandra put on her shoes. As she laced up, her mind drifted to A Skyless Reality again. She imagined sharing her love of the show with someone else. She would give everything to have somebody with her, curled up in blankets, with the show playing on her laptop. And maybe a glass of water nearby too. She walked to the door and placed her hand on the handle. Just then her phone began to vibrate. Ian pawed impatiently at the door, but Sandra stepped back and dug the phone from her pocket.

The contact read Oregon Public Broadcast. She felt her face grow hot. It had been five days since she went in for the interview. Sandra believed she had done well, but she had put the interview out of her head until now.

“Oh shit.” she murmured. Her feet carried her away from the door and in the direction of her window. Behind her, Ian let out a startled bark.

She wished they had waited before calling. It had been a blessed couple of days between the interview and now. Between then and now she had space to hope that she had made it into the news editor position. She had space to worry about nothing except her dog, her Netflix shows, and her bed. She could dwell in the sense that she’d soon get everything she ever wanted and it would all be okay. But now they had called to accept or reject her. The end of her carefree hours had come.

Then again, maybe she had aced the interview.

Sandra answered the phone with a tentative voice. “Hello?”

“Hi,” a male voice answered. “This is Carl Kenan. May I speak to Sandra?”

“This is her.”

“Perfect! Sandra, I told you that I would let you know on the phone whether you’d be going onto the next step in our hiring process. We have decided not to move forward with your application at this time. But we encourage you to apply for our other vacant positions in the future.”

As she listened she half walked, half stumbled to her bed. She didn’t feel the softness of the sheets when she fell upon it. All she felt was the upset growing inside her.

“Okay,” she said, trembling. “Thank you for letting me know.” She hung up.

The upset grew and grew, too great for tears or anger. The sun shined bright outside but just then she wanted it to go away. She wanted clouds now. She wanted rain. Sandra heard the dog whine but it sounded a million miles away. She bit her lip. The black hole, roaring and oppressive, zipped open inside her again. Something came out of it. It was the knowledge, sheathed all this time, that she needed actual dirt on Monarch.

If she walked into a news organization with something that would bring Monarch down, Sandra was sure she would finally become a journalist. This knowledge came unsheathed, razor-sharp and hateful. As it did, she left the bed and headed for the recycle bin with phone in hand. Her eyes went narrow and focused. All apprehension left her. All fear and joy escaped her. Nothing remained except the desire to do what needed to be done.

The blue bin sat half full by her desk. Sandra knelt by it. She reached into the bin and dug through everything inside. What she needed would be near the bottom. She grabbed a piece of paper and withdrew her hand. Not it. She dropped it back in and quickly dug through the things again. She took another piece of paper between her fingertips and drew it out. It had a phone number on it.

As Ian pawed at the door some more Sandra dialed the number. It rang for what felt like hours, then went to voicemail. She sighed before calling the number again. As it rang she felt more awake than she had been in a while. Her stomach still churned unhappily. The phone stopped ringing and the voice finally came.

“Hello?” the male voice answered.

“Hi Ben, it’s Sandra. What do you know? About Monarch, I mean.”

She heard a slow chuckle from the other end and felt her irritation rise. Eventually, the accented voice spoke. “Sandra,” it was like hearing a deep, reptilian hiss. “So good to hear from you again. How is my dog? You’ve been taking good care of him. Right?”

So he would annoy her first. “He’s my dog, not yours. And before you ask, yes I did receive your present.” She wanted to ask if he thought he was funny, coming to her apartment like he did. But the words didn’t leave her lips. She wanted to cut to the chase. “What do you know?”

“My apologies. You do own him now. Did you name him yet? Did he like the dog food? Is he enjoying life?”

“His name’s Ian,” she began. Then she focused again. “Answer my question, Ben. What do you know about Monarch?”

“I know some things,” the Japanese man said. "But there are certain things I won’t discuss with you over the phone.”

“Why the hell not?”

He chuckled again. She sighed. She should’ve known this would be a waste of time. “Pardon me Sandra, but I don’t know who you are. I don’t see what you’re doing. You could be wearing a wire-”

“What? I’m not wearing a damn wire!”

“-or someone could be recording this line. Or you may have other, less desirable people listening with you. Right? But we can discuss things if you want to.”

Sandra realized what this was coming to. He wanted to meet her face to face. Dislike rose in her throat. She could only imagine where he wanted her to meet him. Only God knew what she’d have to sacrifice to meet him.

“When and where?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Two P.M. I will take you to the address.”

“No, Ben. I’m not letting you drag me out to god-knows-where. That’s insane.”

“I guess you don’t want to discuss this, then?”

“No, no! I do. Just… let me think for a minute.”

“I’ll come to your apartment tomorrow at two P.M. Are you free then?”

Sandra considered her schedule for a moment. “Yeah,” she said with a voice of gravel. “I am.”

“Excellent,” click. He hung up.

She stood still, trying to think about what she had just done. She ripped Ben’s piece of paper in half and let the pieces fall. Ian padded up to her. Her hand instinctively snaked out and patted his back.

“We’ll go for a walk, okay?”

With that she went to her closet and brought out a yellow leash before attaching it to his new collar. His excitement became palpable with his pants and nuzzles. She opened the door and led him out. As she walked with him through the hall she tried to remember Ben’s face and features. One specific detail stood out to her in her memory of that car ride. His left earlobe had a round, smooth hole in it where he had obviously worn an earring. However, his right ear had no hole.

One earring. She had seen an important Japanese face with one earring somewhere before, yet she couldn’t exactly place where.

Chapter 7: Son of Monarch

Summary:

Past and present fold on each other as Sandra finally meets the anti-Monarch faction. Their leader, Ben Tanaka, reveals his true identity to her.

Sandra sat on a bench close to the sidewalk in front of her apartment. She checked the time on her phone. She had shattered her watch a few weeks ago. Ten minutes after two. She held her purse close. She wasn’t sure if she wanted Ben to have reneged on driving her to the meeting place.

She wouldn’t wait forever. If he failed to show up, she’d call him again. Cuss him out, maybe. But she wasn’t sure what she’d do after. Sandra couldn’t imagine going back to applying for positions she’d inevitably be rejected from. She wished he had just given her the details on Monarch over the phone. It would’ve been easier. Then she wouldn’t be out here, waiting for some asshole who might not even arrive.

A car drove by without slowing down. It didn’t look like the one Ben drove before. She stopped biting her lip. Another car caught her eye. The sleek black vehicle came from the left. She peered inside as it stopped right in front of her. She recognized the face of the Japanese man. With a gulp she stood. Her feet moved independently of her brain and left the bench. Her pepper spray dangled from her keychain.

Sandra opened the passenger door and climbed in. As soon as the door slammed shut, her heart began to pound and she felt the urge to bite her lip.

“How are you?” Ben asked.

“Fine, I guess.” she answered dryly. Although his hair looked good to her, he clearly didn't obsess over his appearance. She remembered his mustache and bare chin. She spotted the hole in his left earlobe again. On his forehead she could see the faint remnants of scars. They had long since healed and their trails in the skin were slight.

The car started up and they left her apartment behind. She stared out the passenger window and watched the houses go by.

Sandra shrugged. “So, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry,” Ben said. “It’s not too far. Milwaukie. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Sandra nodded and stared back out the window. They reached the Willamette River. She listened to the hum of the tires on the road. As they crossed onto the bridge the hum jumped in pitch. The deep blue water mirrored the clear sky.

"How did you know I wanna put Monarch on blast?" Sandra asked. "Hmm?"

Ben faced the road. "You are quite vocal about it online," he said in his hard Japanese accent. "Message boards, chat rooms, those records stay online forever."

Sandra rolled her eyes.

Ben glanced over at her. “We don’t have to be friends, Sandra. But we can get to know each other. Right?”

“I’ll pass,” Sandra said. “You’ll give me the info that I need, and then I’ll be out of your hair. And you’ll be out of mine.”

Then came that chuckle from him. That condescending, insulting laugh of his. She reached into her purse and drew out a small pocket book with a scarred cerulean cover. Back then, when she had dug it out of the rubble of her old home some of the pages had been ripped out. But that was okay. At least it had still been salvageable.

They drove from the bridge to the street. “What’s that?” Ben asked.

“Just what I’ll write the information in.”

He smiled. “I’m thinking you’ll need much more than that for this.”

“Why?”

“You’ll need to gather evidence, right? And what evidence is better than a photo?”

“You mean a camera? I thought you’d give me physical pictures or something, dude.”

He didn’t answer her. Now her thoughts began to pick up speed. What kind of information did he have? Was it digital? Physical? It would’ve been great if he told her now, but he was right. She needed hard evidence to build her case against Monarch. She stuffed the notebook back into the darkness of her purse.

“Where are we getting your evidence from?”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds. “Our… base of operations.”

“Our?”

He nodded with a satisfied smile. “Let’s just say there are many who are like you, Sandra.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, dude.”

“I know enough to know you dislike Monarch. You have good reason to. Everyone does.” he drove past a green traffic light.

“So lemme guess. You got a bunch of people who also have a thing against them. Are we just supposed to get along ‘cause of that?”

“That’s up to you,” he said. “Right?”

She gave a reluctant nod. But a feeling began to rise within her chest, deep enough to be almost primal. “Okay. Are they cool?” Ben smiled at this. His head gave a slow nod. They passed a Milwaukie sign. As they went the day steadily grew brighter.

For all Sandra knew, this could’ve been a trick. Perhaps the dude was driving into a trap. That was okay. If he tried anything funny, he’d have a black eye before the day was over. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. She had to remember why she did this.

“Hey, will this actually not work if I don’t have a camera with me?”

Ben shook his head. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you a camera if you need one.”

Everything he offered seemed too good to be true. Sandra’s brain instinctively looked for problems Ben might present later, like an architect searching for instabilities in a building’s design. She considered Ben’s hypothetical group. If they had a wealth of evidence they wouldn’t just give it away for free. Would they?

“I don’t got cash on me,” Sandra said. “But if you took me to an ATM-”

Ben gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You won’t need to pay us.”
On the heels of this she considered his hypothetical group again. If they had a wealth of evidence they must have been pretty advanced. Maybe they were some well-funded company that opposed Monarch. Or they just so happened to have stumbled on dirt from Monarch before.

He turned off the street and into an empty parking lot behind a tall barbed wire fence. It reminded Sandra of an airport, only smaller. And much more deserted. He stopped the car right in front of the gray doors on the silver building. Ben climbed out. Sandra clutched her purse and pulled herself out of the car. She closed the door.

The faint logo across both doors stood out to her. She looked at the three peach half circles near each other, forming a black triangle in between them. She remembered this sigil. Apex Cybernetics. She followed Ben to the door. He reached it before turning to face her. He smiled with a sparkle in his eyes. When he opened the door to the right she shuffled after him into the darkness. Then the smell hit her, and she almost froze.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“An old bunker,” Ben said. “It belonged to Apex Cybernetics.”

Sandra nodded. Of course it was a bunker. He used a damned bunker for his base, she should have known. She forced her feet forward and they walked through a dim hallway. The quiet was oppressive, suffocating even. To the left a small foldable chair sat next to a flight of stairs going down into greater darkness. She gulped.

“So, uh, you know so much about Monarch. What do you know about Apex?”

Ben paused and looked back at her. The sparkle in his eyes had gone out like a candle flame in a cold breeze. His hands crept behind his back. “I didn’t find out anything from Apex before it went down,” he stated. “And since the company is down, it is not relevant.”

Sandra smirked. He avoided the question. She relished a chance to poke him about anything. The subject of Apex would do.

“I thought you wanted us to get to know each other, Ben. What happened to that?”

Ben only looked back at her with narrowed eyes.

“I’m just saying,” Sandra heard herself say. “Now everyone knows a thing or two about what Apex was really up to. Unless you’ve been living under a rock.”

“Good.” Ben said dryly. Clearly he wanted to move on.

“Are the rest of your people here?” she asked.

“Some of the team, yes.” Ben said. “Are you ready to meet them?”

Sandra shivered, and not just from the cold air. Ben started down the thin stairwell. She gripped the rail with tight fingers and stepped gingerly down. Her eyes adjusted to the dark as she followed the man. Her unease grew with each step she descended. The smell of cheese and moth balls floated up into her nose. She saw herself descending into the cellar in her yard again. Her cellar of old. The fog of memories grew thick and she found she could now hear the sirens scream overhead. She could almost see the red dust floating about in that deserted street. The trees waved back and forth, dancing to the sirens. She had been the last to descend to the floor. Her friends had all gotten there first, and they had welcomed her into the circle anyway. They had made room for her to sit.

“You sure they’re here? All of them?”

Ben looked up at her. “I told you, some of them might be out. But some are here.”

Sandra took another uneasy step down. Ben turned around and continued descending. Her breath caught in her throat as she half-expected a sonic boom from above. An urge to go downstairs faster came in a swift pang. The pang disappeared. She felt a slight dread at the thought of encountering her friends down here. Their faces might be covered in the grime and ash of what had happened back then and the years after. Their youthful and carefree light might be gone. Worse, there would be a divide between her and them. She bit her lip.

Then the sirens died in her head, breaking the bubble. The smells of cheese and moth balls dissipated. As the black invisible flames of her past guttered out, her thoughts cleared up. She and Ben walked down the stairs of the bunker and onto the flat ground. All color had seemingly gone from the world. She could barely even see Ben as he stood in front of her, half consumed by the darkness. A thunk sound filled the blackness. A switch had been flipped. Then two stick-thin beams of light on the ceiling came to life. And there they were, staring at Ben and Sandra.

A man and woman sat in chairs around a table. A bed naked of a sheet, pillow, or blankets sat several yards away against a wall. The man had his hand on the light switch beside him. Ben proudly took a few steps toward them before turning to Sandra again. He massaged his turtleneck.

“Welcome to Adversary.” he announced.

“Adversary?” Sandra asked. That seemed like a pretty unwelcoming name for a crew.

“Who’s this?” the man asked. He had a french accent.

“I told you Martin,” the woman said in an even tone. “I knew today would bring us good things.” She stood up and walked over to Ben’s side. Sandra could tell she was around the same age as her, but this woman had lines on her face that made her look substantially older. She was skinny. Her clothes seemed to hang on her.

The woman held her hand out to her. “I’m Erica. Erica Spielmann.”

Sandra shook her hand. “Sandra. Sandra Sookdeosingh.”

Erica nodded with a slight smile. The guy stood. Sandra noticed he was shorter than Erica. He walked over to Erica’s side. “My name is Martin,” he said. “What brings you here?”

Sandra held her hand toward Ben. “Ben over here told me he’d give me evidence to expose Monarch. But only if we met here, apparently.”

Erica’s eyes widened. “So it’s true,” she said in a hushed voice. “After all this time. Another just like us! But stronger.”

“What?” Sandra blurted.

“Nevermind her,” Martin said. “Did anyone follow you?”

Sandra opened her mouth to speak but Ben spoke first. “No one followed us.” He assured them before walking away to grab a third chair.

Martin let out the breath he was holding. “You never know. He could be looking for us again.” That surprised Sandra. These chuckleheads had actual enemies.

“You seem nervous,” Erica told Sandra. “Why don’t you come and have a seat?” She beckoned Sandra and walked to the table. Sandra pulled out a chair and sat in front of her. Ben slid a third chair in and Martin sat in it. Sandra pulled out her pocketbook and pencil. She looked up and saw Erica’s hand outstretched to her, offering a stick of chewing gum.

“Want some?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sandra took it, unwrapped it, and began chewing it. “What do y’all know? Is Monarch hiding anything new?”

“There’s a Hollow Earth cave not far from here,” Martin said. “Ben wanted us here before Monarch found it.”

Sandra became interested. “You mean you guys found this shit before Monarch?”

Martin nodded. “It’s near Sisters. The people there have known about the cave for years.”

Ben slipped on his black jacket. “The locals told me all I needed to know about it.” he said.

Sandra started writing. Then she remembered the other thing in that town. “Could it have to do with the sightings of the giant insects in Sisters? The disappearances?” she asked.

Martin looked up at Ben with plaintive eyes. It looked like he wanted permission before he said something. Ben nodded as he stood over all three of them. “It has to.”

Sandra began to put together the picture in her mind. A wormhole to the Hollow Earth had been hiding under everyone’s noses. A ragtag group of amateurs had found it before the multibillion dollar, government backed organization. And now monsters had come unchecked out of the entrance to kill people. This was gold. Pure gold. It might not bury Monarch, but this information would land her a job for sure. Maybe coming here wasn’t a mistake after all. She just needed the clincher.

She wrote furiously, driven by new energy she channeled through her pencil. Her thoughts no longer blurred by anxiety, she felt sharp in a way she hadn’t in a long time. “Okay,” she said, alert and set. “Do you guys have any pictures or video of this entrance hole? Where is this thing, anyway?”

“It can be found in the Three Sisters mountains,” Ben said. “At a place called Devil’s Cave. But I have a man there already. And he has a camera to get all the footage we need. You’ll get the footage too.”

“Footage of what?” she asked. “The entrance hole?”

Ben smiled and shook his head. “No. Footage of Monarch finding it after us.” Sandra felt herself deflate. Footage of that wouldn’t prove anything.

“Monarch will send people to seal the hole,” Martin said. “Russell’s been yelling at them about it. They’ll seal it. But that doesn’t solve their problem, no.”

“Wait, hang on. How do you guys even know this? I would already know if Monarch announced something like that.”

“Should we tell her?” Martin asked Ben.

“Of course!” Ben nodded vigorously. “We have a man on the inside. A spy in Monarch.”

Now Sandra began to feel impressed. They could gather any intel Monarch didn’t want anyone else to know. She knew right then she needed to stick by this group. She wrote in her notebook.

“You’re not nervous anymore.” Erica said. She smiled and looked at Sandra like she’d look at a cute puppy in a pet store.

“Gee, thanks.”

“We don’t have to worry about Devil’s Cave for now,” Ben told her. “Monarch wants to exterminate the bugs. We have to be there so you can film their attempt.”

Sandra sighed. There wouldn’t be any hard evidence here. “Where do you think we should film this?” she asked.

“There’s a place above the surface where the monsters go. A gravel pit where the meganula, as Monarch calls them, go to drink the water that pools there when it rains.”

“Meganula?” Sandra repeated.

“Yes,” Ben replied. “Meganula. Monarch will send their G-Team to kill them while they gather and drink. They aren’t Titans, so the extermination should be easy.”

“Okay,” Sandra said. “What’s the point of filming their G-Team killing a bunch of bugs?”

Ben smirked. His eyes took on a dangerous light. “Because they won’t succeed. We’ll make sure of that.”

Sandra looked up from her paper and stared at him. “You’re talking about sabotage. You’re gonna sabotage them? What the hell are you gonna do?” she looked at Martin and Erica’s faces in turn. “Are you two okay with this shit?” Horrifying images flashed through her mind. She saw the soldiers' guns backfiring as soon as they pulled their triggers. She saw Ben and others from Adversary firing on Monarch with guns of their own. She felt cold inside her clothes as she imagined the violent firefight.

Ben put his hand up and made a long shushing noise, as if he was trying to calm a bleating cow. “It doesn’t matter what we do,” he said. “You won’t be a part of it. You just have to be there to witness it. Film it.”

“Are you outta your mind?” she protested. “Hurting people? Is that what you guys do?”

“Who said anything about hurting people?” Ben asked. “All we want is to make Monarch's job marginally harder. They still have the weaponry. In fact, they might succeed in killing all the meganula. We still have to figure out the specifics. You just have to film what happens, Sandra.”

“You know what these people are, don’t you?” Martin asked. Then, he made a wrathful grimace and clenched his fists. “You know the things they’ve done. The lives they’ve stolen. Don’t you?”

“I know,” Sandra said. “I want them taken down a peg too, but I didn’t sign up for murder and mayhem.”

“Look. I’m Christian. I didn’t sign up for murder or mayhem either,” Erica promised. “G-Team won’t even know we’re there.”

“You’ll be hidden in the shadows.” Martin promised.

“You wanted evidence, right?” Ben asked. “All you have to do is come with us. Film Monarch’s attempt to exterminate the monsters. Whatever happens there will happen whether you come or not.”

Sandra chewed her gum in thought. Monarch was trusted internationally to keep the Titans in check. This included controlling creatures the size of skyscrapers. Footage of G-Team trying but failing to take out comparatively small fry would send a convincing message: that they were incapable of managing these monsters. It would add to the mountain of evidence that Monarch could not be trusted.

Ben knelt to be eye level with her as she sat in her chair. “Come with us,” he said. “And be the one to show the world Monarch’s failure.”

“They won’t be able to spin this one. No,” Martin said. “Not like they spin every other fucking thing.”

This plan now made sense to Sandra. It would get her everything she needed and all she had to do was show up with a camera. Martin was right. Monarch had been able to pin all blame for the Mass Awakening on the director who had lost her mind. They had a scapegoat and it allowed them to get away with it. Years later, many had died in the Tasman Sea and Hong Kong under their watch, but Monarch found another scapegoat in Apex Cybernetics.

This time, they wouldn’t be capable of washing their hands of it. There would be no scapegoat to use. If they failed to deal with the easy threat of these overgrown insects, it would be their fault. There would be no one to pin the blame on.

“If you don’t want to stay with us afterward,” Ben said. "It’ll be your choice. You can walk away and do what you will with your footage. We will never cross paths again if you so choose. And you can keep Ian, of course. No hard feelings.”

The others nodded. Sandra looked into Ben’s dark brown eyes and saw sincerity. She considered what would happen if she left them. She looked at Erica and Martin. Their eyes were gentle. Erica seemed sweet, even if a little strange. She wondered who the rest of the team were. Maybe she had things in common with them. How would they react to seeing Ian the dog? Ben had said whether she got along with the team would be up to her. The doors of possibility swung open in her mind. She liked their sound.

Her gaze became soft. “We stay in the shadows the entire time?”

Ben nodded. “G-Team will be in and out. They won’t know we ever came.”

She sighed. It wasn’t the most honest plan, but she wasn’t actually participating in it herself. She would show up in a journalistic capacity, film the thing, and leave. She’d be the lone observer on the outside as any reporter or journalist should be. And what would be so wrong with that?

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “When do we do this?”

“Yay!” Erica yelled, throwing her hands up in an overenthusiastic fashion. Martin nodded and smiled at her. The lights above flickered.

“Our friend in Monarch will tell us when G-Team heads out to the gravel pit,” Ben said. “We will head out before them. We have to time everything right. I’ll keep in touch with all of you. Stay on your phones.”

The words all of you stuck in Sandra’s mind. She was reminded of when Ian announced a plan to the old gang back in Ontario. She had felt so loved and included in the exciting things the nameless group did.

“When it’s go time,” Martin told Sandra. “It’s go time. There won’t be a minute to waste.”

Sandra nodded. “Alright!” she said with a new confidence in her lungs. “I can’t wait.”

“It’s about time I told you where the real base is.” Ben said.

“What do you mean?” Sandra asked with confusion. “This isn’t the real base?” she looked over at Martin and Erica. Their faces looked down, avoiding her eyes. This was absurd.

“There is a warehouse not far from here. I’ll text you the address right now so you remember it.” Ben slipped his phone out and texted on it. Her phone vibrated as the message came through. But she didn’t check it.

“Why not take me to the real base?”

“I needed your full cooperation before I could trust you with our secret location.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. Whatever. She could understand that. She might have a wire or whatever the hell he was worried about.

“I must also tell you my old name,” he said.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Sandra hissed. “Old name? Did you two know about this?” Martin and Erica still looked down, avoiding her glare. Sandra sighed as Ben began to speak again.

“My old name was Ren Serizawa.”

“Serizawa?” she repeated. “Serizawa…”

Then she remembered Serizawa. He had been the director of Monarch who constantly appeared on TV to preach about the Titans, mostly Godzilla. But he was dead and Sandra now looked upon his son. She peered closely at him. Then, in the miniscule hallway between seconds, Sandra noticed his left ear piercing. It remained empty because the ring had been removed. Images of the pictures in Apex’s online forums flashed through her mind. His pictures. His face. His lone ear piercing. She stared at him, mouth agape as she remembered the Hong Kong incident and what had been reported about him afterwards.

“You’re dead,” she stuttered with muted surprise. She had to be looking at a ghost, a figment, the shapeless spirit of her imagination. “You died. Back in Hong Kong. You tried to pilot that thing!”

But he shook his head. “I am full of surprises, Sandra.”

The grisly shock of it hit her and it became too much. “So what?” she asked indignantly. “You didn’t wanna tell me your real name ‘till you could trust me? Is that it?”

The man she now knew as Ren Serizawa shook his head. "I go by Ben Tanaka now. Ren Serizawa died long ago."

She coughed and spat her gum out on the floor. Then she stuffed her pocketbook and pencil into her purse before standing up. She made to step past him, then paused to stare daggers into his eyes. “Okay, Ren.” she said. “I come on your little field trip, I film what happens there, then I am done with you.”

She forcefully stormed away from them, ignoring the loud sigh of disappointment from Erica. As she climbed the stairs she held her purse close. Once she opened the door of the Apex bunker her eyes fell on the man’s black car only a few feet away. She had no ride back to her apartment other than Ren himself. Upon realizing this she turned around to go back inside… then caught herself. Sandra turned away from the doors and stalked past the car on her way to the street. She dug her phone out of her purse. She’d order an Uber, no matter the cost. Any cost would be better than riding with that man.

She increased her pace away from the bunker, looking back to make sure none of them had followed her. They hadn’t. She looked forward and continued her march along the wide sidewalk. She wondered who the hell he thought he was. Was he an FBI agent or the son of a Titan-worshipping scientist? Was he the MechaGodzilla pilot named Ren Serizawa or a vigilante leader named Ben Tanaka? Was he all four of these things at the same time?

The idea of one man who thought he could be many brought the slightest smirk to Sandra's face.

Chapter 8: Proxy War

Summary:

As Mark discovers the true nature of the attacks in Oregon, the enemy strikes at Monarch.

Mark looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He couldn’t remember the last time he had brought Maddie aboard the Argo. However he did remember to tell her about his plans to go back to Pensacola with her after this. He pictured her as she remained now, sleeping in his room on the jet. Like a daily ritual he asked himself if he was doing the right thing, keeping her near him.

Mark washed his hands and dried them in the air dryer. Greater worries than Maddie weighed on him in his belly. The worries specifically came from Sisters, Oregon. Peace for two years, and now this. Another opening torn in the ground. Mark suspected that the dragonfly creatures had poured through the Hollow Earth entrance in Sisters for a while now.

Engineers had been notified and had gone ahead to the mountains to seal the breach. They had told him it would be a relatively simple job. First, they needed to set off sticks of dynamite to blow up parts of the cave. This would give their machinery adequate room. After that, all that was left to do was measure out the hole and construct a thick metal slab wide enough to cover it.
G-Team would be sent in to exterminate the bugs aboveground.

He left the bathroom and walked to another room to look at the interactive map. The roar of the Argo jet engine had faded to the background a long time ago. He tracked the flight path they remained on. Sisters was approximately four hours away. He dreaded going to the town itself. The last thing he wanted to do was face the press and wave of reporters that would inevitably mob him. But that’s where the Argo headed.

As he walked into another room of the Argo he threw a curious glance toward Ilene Chen’s station. She and Walter Riccio sat together in obvious conversation. He paused. If he wanted answers about the dragonfly monsters, the two mythographers in the room might have them. Mark approached them. With a wave of his hand he got their faces to turn in his direction.

Chen's face lit up. “Mark! How are you doing?”

“Could be better. Could be worse,” he said. Hearing footsteps he turned around and saw Riley step in, another scientist on board. Two men followed him in. He beamed at Mark.

“Glad you’re here.” Riley said. “We’re wondering if, ah, you three have some further insight into what we’re dealing with in Sisters.”

“Well, I was just about to ask.” Mark said.

Riccio stood up. “Since last Tuesday we’ve been digging through our catalog of ancient texts,” he said. “I’ve suspected for a long time that the creatures in Sisters can swarm. Insect plagues can be found in the folklore of many cultures.”

Mark listened intently. It never ceased to amaze him how much information about the Titans could be gleaned from legends and mythologies of old. The Phoenician myths about the Jinshin-Mushi revealed exactly what happened to the Godzilla-like creature that had left its skeleton in the Philippines, ancient myths had revealed the true name and nature of Monster Zero, and even the various battles between Godzilla and Kong had precedent in Iwi mythology of Skull Island.

Chen pulled up pictures of unrolled scrolls adorned with rough lines of age. “One insect plague myth names the creatures meganula,” she said. Mark nodded. They had found this out shortly after Emma’s Folly.

Now Riccio bent towards the table and used his finger to drag another image into the center. It appeared to be the outside of a cup preserved over many millennia. Riccio widened it, allowing Mark to see the cracks and discoloration that covered the cup. The dark image of a creature that looked like a meganula decorated its surface. Its great wings had spread out and its claws dangled.

“The civilization this cup originally came from is unknown,” Riccio said. “But ancient texts that came from this civilization have a name for the being depicted here. Megaguirus.”

Chen pointed not at the large figure in the center of the cup, but at the numerous smaller creatures that surrounded it from all sides. “These may represent meganula. And that-” she pointed to the large dragonfly beast in the center “-is Megaguirus.”

“They have to be the same species,” Riley said. “Maybe the meganula are the juveniles?”

Mark looked at the picture and narrowed his eyes, praying that Chen and the others were wrong. An even bigger meganula existed? Whatever culture the cup came from it clearly associated the large dragonfly with the smaller ones. It could have been a parent-offspring connection, yet the meganula seemed to be independent. They hunted and killed their own food. Then something dawned on him that he rarely looked into as a zoologist. Colonial insects. Ants, bees, and termites. From what he remembered, colonial insects had at least two castes. There were the workers, who gathered food and defended the nest.

Then there was the queen.

“Oh my god,” Mark murmured.

He began to get panicky. He should’ve seen it before. The more he thought of the meganula as a group rather than lone predators, the more their behavior made sense. He thought about the stories of two or three meganula ambushing their human victims and carrying them off. It reminded him of ants and bees carrying food to their queen. All the details lined up too well.

He faced Chen. “What do these legends say about Megaguirus?”

Unfortunately, Dr. Chen shook her head. “Not much. Only that she is in a creation myth.”

“And she is associated with meganula,” Riccio added. “We don’t know exactly how.”

“I think this Megaguirus controls the meganula,” Mark said. “They’re the workers who bring her food. They’re a pack. A hivemind. Megaguirus is their alpha.”

He saw something jump in Chen's eyes. She looked both terrified and aware. At that moment Mark realized it. Monarch currently faced a miniature version of Ghidorah’s control of the other Titans during Emma’s Folly. The big difference lay in the fact that the dragonfly invasion could be contained.

“Mark,” Chen said. Her voice had become harsh and dry. “What about the workers at the cave?” A sickening feeling went through Mark as he thought of the tunnel in Sisters and all the engineers he and Guillerman had sent there.

“We need to call off that operation. Now.” Mark insisted.

He began to dig for his phone in his pocket. As he stormed out of the room he placed the call to the head engineer of the team at Sisters. It went straight to voicemail, so he was out of signal range. Mark wanted to curse. He increased his pace to the front of the Argo.

Outside the windows, the sun had just come up. He smelled coffee. A couple people he didn’t recognize sipped from their cups. As he came in they looked up at him while they sat in their chairs.

He spotted Rick Stanton and hurried to his station. Stanton turned in his seat, eyes widening at Mark’s quick pace. “Whoa, what’s the matter?” he asked. “We still got three and a half hours ‘till Sisters.”

“I need to call those engineers off,” Mark said. “But I can’t reach them. They’re all in grave danger.”

Stanton pushed aside a bag of chips on his table. He began typing on his computer, using it to scan the wide area in front of them. “Hmm,” he said. “So far I’m not getting any interference. Nothing that should screw up a cell phone signal, anyway.”

“They’re in a low signal area,” Mark clarified. “I already know that. I just need you to push through to them.”

“Might take a while if I’m even lucky,” Stanton said. “Why do you wanna call ‘em off anyway? They got G-Team to protect ‘em. G-Team can handle those dragonflies.”

Mark shook his head with eyes closed in desperation. “No, no. It’s different now. There’s a much bigger one. And I have reason to believe it’s down below that cave. So we need to work fast.”

Stanton looked up at Mark in shock. “How big are we talking?” he asked.

“Big,” Mark said. "Much bigger than the the dragonflies we've seen."

Mark's heart began to race as he imagined the full sized Megaguirus creature, with wings probably bigger than a double-decker bus, emerging from below. The engineers would never see it coming. They wouldn’t be able to escape.

His mind flashed to that terrible day at Outpost 32, the day Emma kicked off her folly by waking up Ghidorah. The great dragon had risen out and within seconds several soldiers had been engulfed in its energy beams, never to be seen again. Mark had a hopeless chill as he realized the same thing would happen here. And this time, it would be all his fault. His doing.

“Doing something to its tunnel might provoke it into leaving its nest,” Mark said. “New plan. We skip the town and go straight to the mountains.”

No one else talked. But before long the Argo picked up speed. The destination had been changed.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In Her Chambers

With wings wrapped around herself she slept peacefully. The wing on her right covered her left wing. She felt the constant soothing, crawling motion of her offspring all over and around her. As the tiny bodies flowed all over every bit of her skin, she stirred. She could hear the thrumming of wingbeats outside her chambers more clearly. Here in the darkness of her fortress she saw the hot colors of her wingsbodies flying about. She felt them. They had become a little bit more active than usual, causing her to awaken. But she didn't mind. Most of her offspring flew around here in the den but outside the chambers. Some of them flew far away, finding food.

Some of them foraged in the Outlands.

She had sent her wingsbodies into the Outlands above all the lands long ago. They had made a path through the black rock until the cold winds hit them. They flew and foraged, yet they never brought her food. She called them back and sent them to other, better places within the world. Places of warmer colors. Places where the Others roamed. However, there was one Other she made her wingsbodies avoid. Its song never failed to frighten her. Its chorus spoke of fire. Its cry spoke of the darkness beyond the realm known as death. It scared her beyond anything. Long ago she had fought it in the Outlands above. Never again. It had become her compulsion to avoid all contact with that Other.

Time had passed. For her, it had been the blink of an eye. The commanding cry came one day. Things had become tumultuous. A new Feared One had come and the great order had shifted. When the Feared One’s cry came, the Others answered it and traveled to the Outlands. She followed the command and sent her offspring back to that desolate place. That time, her wingsbodies brought her food. But this food was different. Instead of injecting it into her abdomen they laid the food at her claws. She had to rip this new food apart with her teeth. It didn't have the heat that spread through her belly like the usual food did. It was only warm. But moments after trying the new food the order began to shift again. Another commanding cry had come. This time it was to stay away from the Outlands. She had heeded this Feared One’s command right away, calling her little ones back again.

But she had learned something. The Outlands above all the Lands offered food. And her wingsbodies brought the warm things to her easily. She had sent them back to the place of cold colors. No commanding cry had reached her. Nothing opposed her in the Outlands. Her wingsbodies could take and take as much as she wanted them to take. And she could feed on the warm things they brought her.

Now she didn’t intend to leave her chambers. She was at home here and only here. Her wingsbodies would take what she needed from the Outlands. Now she felt the cold air of the new territory hit their wings as each of them flew far and wide. The Outlands were endless and so was the food. She felt herself slip away. Although her body remained inside her chamber, she slipped away into the rhythmic ebb and flow of the deeper, hotter places again. Everything shifted into equilibrium as the rich sounds and colors enveloped her.

A slight knock came.

The vibration was quiet, a mere chirp almost unnoticed in the vast song beyond the chamber, but discordant enough to rouse her. More vibrations came, shattering the harmony of her world. She felt them in her jaw, ominous and upsetting. Fear began to gnaw at her. Change wasn’t good. The hot lights of her little ones in her den began to fly around frantically. They circled and zipped around the den faster and faster. Her right middle leg stirred. She shifted her pincer against the stone wall of her chamber. The bright lights raced about, looking for the problem. They flew to all corners of the den and searched high as well as low.

The den remained safe. Empty but for her and her offspring. No new scents floated in. The vibrations came from the path to the Outlands. Something opposed her. No matter. It was only a puny thing. She called them together. The hot colors joined as one, swirling in and out of each other. The deep thrumming of numerous wings helped soothe her air. Even the crawling ones came together, circling. The den came alive with their chittering.

She began her own song, drawing her wingsbodies one way, then the next. Finally she expelled them into the path. She felt them flying through the narrow tunnel within the black of the earth. They flapped together as one, flowing through the path unopposed. Even though the wings on her body didn't move, she flapped with them, in them, through them.

If there was a threat anywhere on the path, her winged offspring would end it. Then she wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He squatted at the top of the hill beside the mountain. The leaves blew in the uneasy breeze. Below and in front of him the gray flatbed truck rumbled up the trail and stopped a dozen yards from the cave. It rumbled on the stone trail before the driver killed the engine and hopped out the door. The sharp gasoline smell from the truck carried into Mitchell’s nostrils, then went away. He preferred to breathe fresh air.

At the foot of one of the Three Sisters mountains, the cave itself looked quite like a nose with one nostril. The main opening looked almost perfectly round. Bushes and rough patches of grass covered the flat ground for several yards south of the cave. A few trees stood in this small clearing as well. The woods, thick and lush, surrounded the clearing outside the cave. The Monarch engineers milled about in and out of the cave. Multiple trucks remained inside the treeline beneath the canopy.

The walkie talkie Mitchell Walker had stolen crackled in his bag. “-We’ve brought the dynamite, sir.” the voice said.

“-Good. Let’s get this started.” another voice garbled.

Walker put his binoculars down, rose up from his squat, and adjusted his tripod. He held the camera steady as he did so. He picked up his binoculars again and looked down on the workers in the clearing. The canopy formed a bright green ocean between him and the workers.

He had been deemed ranger of Adversary, and he knew the man he ranged for. More than a year ago he had come to Ben Tanaka as a grieving, mourning man. When he revealed himself to be one of Walter Simmons’ main henchmen, Walker had been furious. But he didn’t walk away from Ben for one simple reason. Apex and Walter Simmons were no more, yet Monarch remained. Monarch had never been held responsible for the part they played in his brother’s death. Working for Ren had so far been the best decision he'd ever made.

Through his binoculars he saw the workers placing the dynamite strategically. Walker had overheard their plans to widen the cave with explosives to better fit their equipment.
On the left side, the outside of the cave was thick with solid rock, dirt, grass, and other plants. However on the right side the cave only had a thin wall of pale rock. It would be easy to blow away chunks of this thin wall.

Walker put the binoculars down and went for his camera again. His lens allowed him to get zoomed in, clear photos of the operation.

He liked this mission more than the last one Ben had put him on. While increasing their number remained important, Mitchell didn’t think the Sookdeosingh girl had been worth scoping out. He had spent enough days watching her daily activities to know that she would be difficult to work with. Her hasty, long-legged stride told him she would be impatient. From what Ben had told him she could be petty too. On the plus side, from what he’d seen she had no friends. That meant she had almost no one to rat Adversary out to. In case she went to the police, Mitchell had volunteered to spy on the girl some more after she met Erica and Martin. But Ben had sent him out here instead.

Walker didn’t quite understand why Ben trusted her, but he was fine with being out in the jungle. He preferred that to sitting outside an apartment all day. Some radio chatter came from the walkie that he couldn’t make out. Then the sound of the first explosion blasted up to him. A black plume of rocks, dust, and dirt erupted skyward. Another explosion went off, sending up a cloud of debris. The trees in the clearing shuddered. A third, larger explosion sent up another cloud. The trees in the clearing bent back as if from a strong wind.

Walker scanned the area with his binoculars. He noticed a large chunk of the thin cave wall missing. Rough edged rocks lay strewn around the cave. Another boom rocked Devil’s Cave. This time rocks fell from above the opening to disappear inside the dust cloud. Mitchell walked over to the camera again and took a few pictures. He looked back at the cave with his binoculars. As the dust cleared the workers, marked with their shiny hard hats, moved in toward the mangled cave.

Nearby, the walkie crackled. “-Keep a safe distance. I wanna make sure the cave’s stable!”

The workers walked back and forth in front of the cave, in and out of Walker’s sights. Then all at once, every single one of them froze. Walker caught movement at the cave entrance. Then, something rose from the darkness like black smoke. No, multiple somethings rose from the cave. The human figures backed up as the unthinkable winged shapes came out into the light. To Walker they looked like huge dragonflies. They hovered, floated, and circled around, seeming to not notice the people right below them.

A few of the human figures drew their guns. One of them fell over onto his hindquarters. The others didn’t move. The winged figures rose a few feet higher before gathering into a loose ball of them. They appeared like a cloud of monstrous flies. More winged figures came from the tar colored cave entrance, adding to the swarm. Walker’s heart began to palpitate. The walkie talkie in his bag crackled again, but he had forgotten where he placed it. He barely remembered he even had it.

“-Get back to the trucks! Go-”

Almost every man of the crew took off in a run for the trucks. A few visibly fired their weapons at the now darkened cloud of monstrous dragonflies. The cloud suddenly broke apart as if hit by dynamite and the creatures flung themselves down at the men. Gunfire popped over the walkie talkie but it was almost drowned out by a sharp, high pitched static. Walker realized that wasn’t static. It was the sound of men screaming.

The winged monstrosities swept down from the air, overpowering the men not as primitive hunters, but a force as elemental as death itself. Walker had never seen anything as horrifying. While he glimpsed a few of the wings retreat into the douglas fir forest, most of them converged frightfully quickly on the men as they fought, ran, or froze. The wings were a blur as they pounced on the engineers with snapping pincers. One man fell as a winged creature landed on his back. He struggled on the ground for moments as the long, thin abdomen raised above his back. The insect’s back end stabbed down onto the man’s back once, then twice. The man went still. Like wasps the creatures must have possessed a stinger of some sort.

Within moments the downed man was set upon by two more creatures. Their pincers closed on his limbs and head before flying up and out of Walker’s line of sight. The corpse had gone as well. He swung the binoculars around to see panicked men diving into the trucks. Gunfire rang out. One man dove into the flatbed itself as an insect monster chased him down. It hovered before him as he swung an object at it crazily. Its stinger jabbed low, striking him in the chest. He fell on his face. The creatures' jerky and buzzing movements made their faces hard to see, but Walker could make out big rounded eyes. Beneath the eyes he only made out a jagged mess of jaws and fangs.

“Francis is gone! We lost-” more crackles. More screams. “Argo! Where’s the Argo?-” Walker dug the radio out of his bag, gripped the dial with determined fingers, and turned it clockwise. The screaming, terrified voices died away, dissolving into nothing. Down below Walker heard the distant sound of engines roaring to life. At least some could escape in the trucks. He took his M40 sniper rifle from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. He doubled back to his station on the hill, and looked down again at the scene with binoculars.

None of the men remained on the ground anymore, but in the air he glimpsed human limbs streaming out underneath claws, scales, and wings. The creatures had torn three of the men from the ground and carried them toward the gaping maw of the cave. It looked to him like two dragonflies carried each man. The arms and legs dangled uselessly underneath the dragonflies as they bulleted into the shadows. Walker swung his binoculars and saw the trucks racing away into the trees.

It all ended in less than five minutes. Many of the dragonflies remained in the clearing. The swarm only increased in number as more of the horrors shot out of the cave. Before long the cloud boiled fiercely, becoming the color of tar. A low hum carried over to him. It sounded almost mechanical but Walker knew it came from the swarm. All the buzzing melded together into a slow, rolling hum that spread over the forest like a living fog.

Walker lowered his binoculars and breathed heavily. He shrugged off his rifle and gripped it in his hands before aiming at the dragonfly swarm. It wouldn’t make a difference. The dead men were dead and the living would no longer be the same. He lowered his rifle slowly, then raised it again to keep the creatures in his sights.

War hadn’t changed. This had been nothing but a proxy battle fought by mercenaries. Walker knew this better than many. The higher ups at Monarch wouldn’t mourn the loss of the dead men. They’d simply be another statistic in the never ending quest by these people to manipulate the Titans to their own liking. He felt himself growing angry again. His quarrel lay with the puppet masters of Monarch, not the soldiers who did their bidding. And no matter how many men the Monarch politicians had sent to die, no matter how many men had ended up like his brother in the Tasman Sea, Walker knew they wouldn’t face the consequences.

He lowered his rifle, then bent to gather his things. Ben had assured Walker that Apex completely fell. Monarch’s time would come too.

Chapter 9: Monarch Eyes Only

Summary:

Sandra finds out the forbidden truth about Monarch.

“As I said before, ladies and gentlemen, these days were never going to be easy. The weeks, months, and years haven’t been easy either. But there has been progress.

Over the past three years climate scientists have tracked a 50% global increase in coral reefs, a 36% expansion of the Amazon rainforest, and a significant deceleration of melting ice caps. It’s been said many times but I must reiterate it. Nature is healing. Ecosystems that we once lost are coming back. And that is thanks to the Titans and us as a species.

This is Ishiro Serizawa’s natural order. This is your natural order. Everyone’s natural order. In a post-Ghidorah world we continue the healing by coexisting with the Titans. As has been proven time and time again, they are the key to the survival of all life including humanity.

Monarch has used a holistic approach to make sure this coexistence remains as peaceful as possible. With the funding we receive I am proud to say that Monarch has donated to countless charities and nonprofit organizations all over the world, expanded programs to educate the public about Titans, and we have directed our funding to meet the needs of low-income communities.

Remember one thing. For us at Monarch, humanity comes first.” -Monarch Director Guillerman, June 2022

___________________________________________

Sandra checked her purse in the backseat of the Uber. She felt her phone, keys, and wallet. Good, everything remained as it should be. She glanced at the GPS on the driver’s phone. The base lay in wait eleven minutes away, closer to her apartment than the fake base she had been led to.

Then again, maybe this base was fake too. Perhaps Ben Tanaka-well, Ren Serizawa, had lied to her again. She should’ve socked him as soon as he admitted it. Her head turned and looked out the window. The storm clouds above stretched into the distance. They came alive with lightning, playing their thunderous symphony yet releasing no rain.

Sandra had double checked the reports of Hong Kong several days ago. The city had surprisingly been rebuilt, but from what she read it would never be the same afterwards. What piqued her interest had been Serizawa’s involvement in the disaster. He had worked for Apex and piloted a titan-killing mecha widely dubbed “MechaGodzilla”.

Unfortunately, it had started killing humans as well. Sandra’s disgust dominated over all else as she recalled what she had read. She had seen pictures and statistics of the ruined buildings, the thousands of people who had died, and the thousands who had gone missing. A memorial had been built in Hong Kong in remembrance of the victims. She had seen endless pictures of the lists of names etched into walls and plaques in the memorial, all of them names of the lost.

For all their claims of moral superiority, Apex had been no better than Monarch.

Yet, the pilot had died according to every article and report that mentioned him. She had even tracked down the death certificate. Just last night she had called Ren to badger him about his death certificate. But once again he had found some lame excuse to end the call.

No worries, she’d badger him about it today.

The Uber turned out of the busy street as the thick thunderheads stampeded through the sky like so many massive beasts. “Do I drop you over here?” drawled the driver in a thick Boston accent. The car slowed down as it pulled in front of a warehouse and its vast white driveway. The building loomed in the dark, like an abandoned mountain top white and blue.

“Oh yeah,” she stated. “This is it.”

Thunder groaned as she opened the door and got out of the car’s backseat beneath the rainless sky. She looked at the comparatively tiny door of the gigantic rectangular warehouse. Adversary sat inside, all of them. She became sure of it. And Ren would answer to her. All of them would. She stalked away from the Uber toward the warehouse.

Thunder crashed. Lightning flashed. Power filled her stride. Her fists clenched and she walked faster. She imagined a powerful choir song playing just for her in the midst of the storm. Sandra unclenched her fists to hold her purse close. She trod delicately over a thin strip of grass and kicked the dirt off her shoe. Once she got to the door she considered kicking it in. Realizing that probably wouldn’t work she reached for the handle and tried to open it. The handle didn’t move when she pressed on it.

It had been locked, which was a sure sign the others on the team had holed up there. She knocked on the door.

“It’s me! Sandra!”

The wind whistled in her ears. But no noise came from beyond the gray door. She pounded it with her palm. She found herself with the image of several Adversary members somewhere in the shadows within the building, huddled and listening to her knocks, a perverse smirk on each face. As if this remained only a practical joke. She drew herself up and pounded the door with her palm harder than before. She prepared to yell, but before she could a deep click came from the other side of the door. The handle turned and it opened with a slight whine. Before it went even a few inches it stopped.

Sandra pushed on the door but felt something pushing on it from the other side.

“What’s the password?” the familiar, feminine voice asked from inside.

Sandra gaped unbelievably, but the beginnings of a smile came to her lips and she felt slight silver puffs of laughter in her chest. “Erica?” she called. “Is that you? Lemme in!”

The woman laughed on the other side. The door opened all the way and revealed her, the blonde hair in a ponytail. She seemed to have fewer lines in her face this time. Her kind hand beckoned Sandra in. She flicked a switch on the wall, lighting up the wide hallway in front of them. Sandra closed the door and stepped after Erica.

“That’s not the password,” Erica said with a playful grin. “But I’ll make an exception for newbies.”

Sandra couldn’t stifle her own grin. Her super serious demeanor was beginning to crumble. “Where’s the rest?”

“This way. Everyone’s been waiting in the meet room.”

Sandra felt a pang of guilt for making everyone wait but it disappeared immediately. As she followed Erica through the dank warehouse, her grin drew away. She narrowed her eyes, deciding to start right here and now.

“So,” Sandra began. “What’s it like knowing your leader almost destroyed Hong Kong?”

Erica frowned. “Ben has been through things-”

“His name’s Ren,” Sandra insisted. “You don’t have to call him his shitty fake name.”

“It’s not his fake name,” Erica replied. “He got it legally changed to Ben. Ben Tanaka.”

Sandra found herself perplexed. “How’d he do that? He’d be a wanted man.”

“He has connections. A guy like him wouldn’t be anywhere without them. But don’t ask him about it. He doesn’t like to talk about that stuff.”

They turned a corner and came up to what seemed like a dead end. But when Sandra looked back at Erica the woman’s eyes did not falter or show surprise. Erica stepped nimbly forward, approaching a tall potted plant. Fastening her fingers into the curving rim she lifted the plant up a few feet and pulled it away from its corner.

In the plain white wall Sandra now saw the outline of the door traced into the wall like a crude pencil drawing. Beside it hung a painting of a battleship with a deep gray hull. Smoking cannons pointed off the right side. Erica grabbed the handle of the door and opened it. The door swung inwards.

Erica stepped inside, but Sandra paused at the entrance. The lightbulbs didn’t flicker like she expected them to in a dusty place like this. She looked and saw everyone inside. Clothes and bags lined the back wall in lazy heaps. A large, rectangular wooden table sat several yards away from the back wall. A projector like the kind used at her school caught her eye. Faces, familiar and unfamiliar, turned to face her. They were all seated in their chairs like kids in a classroom. They looked at her like a new student.

Sandra drew in a deep breath, unwilling to take another step yet. It felt like coming to the edge of a pool and hesitating, knowing how cold the water would be. There was something else there, too. There came a dull feeling close to stage fright as a result of these people, Adversary, seeing her now. It felt like being bait on a fish hook.

“Don’t be shy,” said Erica, breaking the silence. “We don’t bite.”

As her eyes scanned the room Sandra finally spotted him. Ren Serizawa sat on the ledge right by the window, his right foot placed casually on a chair. She glared at him, suddenly forgetting her hesitation to come in. She stepped inside. Ren got up from his seat as if roused by Sandra’s accusing stare. At her back she heard Erica close the door. Thin fluttering blinds covered both windows, seemingly holding back the storm that rumbled outside.

“Welcome to Adversary,” Ren said in a soft and pleasant voice. He stood between the two tables, looking at her while the others sat on either side of him. As Erica joined them Sandra counted only six people here. Somehow, she had initially thought she saw many more. One man got up from the rectangle table first. Then the man next to him did.

The first man extended a gloved hand. “I’m Romano.” he said. She shook his hand and she felt him squeeze it hard. The other guy shook her hand before he said anything.

“I’m Victor Peterson.” he said kindly. His handshake felt gentler. He had a pudgy baby face. She smiled and nodded at him. A smaller delicate hand found her own. A woman almost half of her height replaced Victor in front of her. The glasses on her face reflected the light from above.

“Name’s Abby Neil,” she said with a smile that did not meet her eyes. “Don’t look so shell-shocked, we don’t bite.”

Sandra frowned. “I heard Erica the first time.” Abby only shrugged and went back to her seat. Sandra looked at the rest. Martin and Erica nodded to her, as did Ren.

“So this is it?” she asked. “There’s only six of you? Small-ass group.”

Ren came over to her and patted her shoulder. “One more is coming,” he said. “He’ll be a little bit late.” he led her to an empty chair at the circular table. But she didn’t sit in it.

“I lied because I didn’t trust you yet,” Ren coldly stated. “Move past it. You’re here now.”

She turned to face him. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened in Hong Kong?” she challenged. “Do the rest of y’all know?” her gaze swept Ren’s team.

Ren held her gaze for a moment, then he frowned. He faced away to look at the others. “We’ll wait for Walker.” he said. Then, without even a wave of his hand he turned and walked toward another door. It was as if she hadn’t asked him anything.

“You wanna answer my question?” Sandra asked. Curses welled up inside her throat but never passed her teeth. She got ready to pursue him, but firm fingers fell on her shoulder. She looked back at the one with the round baby-face. Victor.

“He doesn’t like to talk about that stuff,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, and I should care?” Sandra retorted.

Victor sighed and came next to her. “MechaGodzilla was Ren’s greatest failure, and he’s attested to that.”

“Failure’s an understatement,” Sandra said. “He let it malfunction and flatten an entire skyline. How is he not dead or in jail?”

Victor remained silent. Sandra put her hands on her hips. “Well? Was Apex just that incompetent? Coffee spill at the wrong time?”

Thunder rumbled. “It’s unknown what caused the malfunction,” Victor finally answered. “But the AI went rogue and killed everything in front of it. Even Apex’s CEO.”

“You’re probably wondering why we built it,” Abby stated in a flat tone. “We needed a mecha of some kind to stop the Titans, and since the Titans all respond to Godzilla, only a mecha of his shape and stature could replace him. It’s possible that the energy in the rare Hollow Earth elements overwhelmed the mecha’s psionic uplink, potentially because the rare elements are related to alkali or alkaline metals. That means they’re extremely reactive particularly if…” she stared at Sandra, probably seeing her vacant expression. “Nevermind.” she said.

“The point is,” Victor continued. “Walter Simmons and Ren were trying to do a good thing here. They saw no other way of stopping the Titans. If their plan had worked they would’ve saved a million lives. They didn’t want any of what happened.”

Simmons. At the mention of that name Sandra’s glare went soft. She folded her arms and looked down as she remembered her support for the man. Back then, she had truly believed whatever secret plan the CEO had would work against the Titans. Once they started working with Monarch she began having doubts about them. But when their giant robot had started destroying the city all her support for Apex had dried up. Yet the malfunction had all been just a tragic accident.

“Look,” Victor said. “Whatever you may think of him, Ren suffered from his actions. So did Apex. All their facilities were shut down. The entire company was brought to justice.”

“Apex doesn’t exist anymore.” Abby said. Sandra swore she heard a hint of sadness in her voice.

“So how did he survive?” she asked. “Ren I mean,” she took her cell phone from her purse and opened it to reveal a picture of Ren’s death certificate. She showed it to Victor. “Explain this.”

“He faked his death,” Victor said. “After being nearly electrocuted, Ren was grabbed by Apex guards and taken to the in-house medical facility. I don’t know the exact specifics of how they patched him up. I think he was kept in a coma, but don’t quote me on that.”

“And he just, what? Skipped town and grabbed a new identity?”

“Well yeah,” Victor replied. “He knew people from his early days in Apex. Connections. And some of the people in the Hong Kong facility helped him move here and transition to his new identity. He’s legally Ben Tanaka now.”

Sandra scoffed. “That’s insane,” she said. “I’m insane for even coming here.”

“Look. Ben has changed,” Victor insisted. “He’s more sincere now. Trust me, I’ve been with him when he doesn’t have to put on a brave face. He’s been through a lot, but he doesn’t let it bring him down.”

“Him? Sincere?” Sandra said. She chuckled. “Sincere, wow! You will not believe the lies your buddy told to get me here.”
Just as she prepared to launch into Ren’s many lies, Erica moved her chair and stood up.

“Mitchell just texted,” she said. “He’s at the door, I’ll get him.” she walked to the door she came through with Sandra and left.

Sandra turned back to Victor. “I know Ben’s methods aren’t the kindest,” he said. “But he doesn’t do anything extreme unless he’s absolutely sure there is no other way.”

“It’s fine, Victor. I’m here now. You don’t gotta sell me on it. I just wanted to know who the hell our leader is,” she held out her incredulous hand at the door Ren had disappeared behind, her palm facing the ceiling. “Still not sure.”

“Give it time,” Victor suggested. “You’ll know him. I promise.”

“Fine.”

“Wanna sit next to me?” Victor asked.

Sandra shrugged and followed him to the rectangular table. She pulled her phone out of her purse again and began scrolling through her old photos in a text message group chat. The last message had been sent to the group chat in June seven years ago. Only Ian and Connor remained in the group chat. They must’ve forgotten the group chat even existed at this point.

The photos moved down the page as she scrolled. She saw herself with the rest of the group at Chinatown. She saw a group photo of them on a boat in Lake Michigan. A slight grin came to her face as she remembered Eddie’s suggestion that they all flash gang signs. However behind the grin, the familiar darkness opened inside her. She allowed the weight of it to settle.

“What’s that?”

The black hole disappeared from inside her as she turned to look at Victor. He peered curiously at her screen. She turned the screen away from his snooping gaze but the sting of annoyance never came. Perhaps the concern in his voice smoothed over the invasion of her privacy.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she dismissed. Victor shrugged and turned away.

The white door opened then. Sandra turned and saw Erica lead someone in. He looked Thai with short black hair, a solid gray shirt, and muscular arms adorned with black tattoos. He stalked in after her with a scowl that seemed permanently etched on his face. Sandra saw the gun on his belt. He took black gloves off his hands as he walked toward the group.

“You’re late, Walker.” Abby chirped.

“Shut up,” he snapped. He scanned the room. As he did, his gaze passed over Sandra. Sandra considered saying hello, but something held her back. Martin and Erica hadn’t greeted her today because she had already met them. She hadn’t met this man before, yet as his sullen gaze passed her over. He didn’t greet her or even acknowledge her presence. Sandra’s greeting died in her throat.

“Where’s Ben?” he asked. Just then the other door opened somewhere behind Sandra. She looked back and saw Ren approach.

“Let’s go man,” Walker said. “I ain’t got all night.”

Ren looked coolly at him. “Patience, Walker.” he said. “I cannot rush this. You know that.” Walker scoffed in response.

“That’s Walker,” Victor whispered to Sandra. “But I guess you’ve heard his name already. Mitchell Walker. But only call him Walker if you don’t wanna end up on his bad side.”

“I think I already have.” Sandra whispered. She couldn’t help but laugh a little. Victor cracked a smile.

She watched Ren as he fiddled with a projector beside the tables. Light soon came from it. Once again, Sandra became reminded of when she did presentations for kids in her classes. He strode to the wall across from the projector, moved some objects out of the way, then reached up and pulled down a blank white projection screen.

So, exactly like what she’d use in class.

“Put off the lights.” Ren ordered. Erica hopped to it, bounding over to the light switches and flicking them. Darkness overtook the room except for the light shooting from the projector. Sandra sat quietly as Ren went behind their tables again. He opened a laptop on a cart beside the projector.

“What are you gonna show us?” Sandra asked. She heard an annoyed sigh come from Walker.

“A reminder. Preparation,” Ren said. “When we’re out there, you’ll need to remember why you’re out there so that you don’t back down. You must remember why we fight Monarch.”

“Oh, I remember the things they’ve done,” Martin snarled. “I remember them every day.”

“Not everyone here is you, Martin,” Ren said without looking up from his laptop. He tapped a few more times on the keyboard. Then the first image popped up on the projection screen. It was a large image of a woman’s face. Stress lined it and she looked white as a ghost, perhaps trapped in melancholy. Her eyes, big and blue, stared right through Sandra. Her golden brown hair hung shrouded in shadows beside her face.

Sandra recognized her. This had been the woman who destroyed the world seven years ago. Emma Russell, the crazed Monarch chief. And she remembered this very video.

“I’m saving the world.” Ms. Russell said. Sandra listened, feeling fury rise. “Humans have been the dominant species for thousands of years and look what’s happened…” scenes of devastation appeared in flashes while muddled in black smoke and ash.

“Overpopulation,” Russell went on. “Pollution. War. We are the infection. But like all living organisms, the Earth unleashed a fever to fight this infection. Its original and rightful rulers, the Titans.”

Sandra could tell the footage of her speech had been cut up to only show the worst parts of it, but she didn’t care. Russell had directly caused untold suffering and death. Thanks to her, and Monarch by extension, Sandra’s old life remained gone forever. All of it.

Russell continued her manifesto. “As difficult as this will be, I promise humanity will not go extinct. Using the ORCA, we will return to a natural order. A forgotten order where we coexisted in balance with the Titans. The first gods.” cave paintings appeared of various Titans and people. The footage cut out, showing nothing but a black screen.

“There it is,” Ren said. “The woman that Monarch allowed to rise to power. It shows you who they really are.”

More footage. The camera showed jerky camera footage in the sky. The rotors of a helicopter sounded as a volcano appeared on screen. The camera swung to focus on a winged shadow. At first, Sandra wasn’t sure what she looked at. Then the shriek came from somewhere unseen. That scream, that high pitched roar, rattled her back to Ontario, back to the cellar, back to the cheese and mothballs. Finally the burning creature came into view, flying low in the direction of the volcano. Flames streamed from its wings just as they probably did when those same wings blew down her house.

On the screen the burning bird-monster flew over the mountain. It gave a powerful flap of its red wings as it passed over. A few seconds later the mountain’s top violently burst. Silence hung over the scene as the volcano belched out a gray cloud of dust and ash. The pillar of ash rose higher and higher. A few seconds later the noise hit the camera. It sounded like a bomb going off right before it deafened the microphone.

The black hole had opened again. Sandra understood perfectly. Every person in Monarch was part of the problem. She wanted them all on the hook for this.
Footage played out of various disasters that occurred during the Mass Awakening. Sandra witnessed a church burn to the ground. She saw the inside of a hospital waiting room filled with children and their parents. Tranquil one moment, it filled with screaming and crying as lights winked out in response to the loss of electrical power.

Sandra didn’t see how anyone with a good heart could have lived through this disaster yet continued to work for Monarch. There was simply no excuse. She refused to believe anyone who remained in Monarch was different from the terrorists who helped Russell release the Titans.

The footage cut to a train cut in two and laying on its side on a vast swath of sand far away from any tracks. Dead bodies surrounded it. As the horrors unfolded, a voiceover began to play over them. Sandra recognized the speech Monarch director Guillerman made a few years ago.

“It’s been said many times but I must reiterate it. Nature is healing. Ecosystems that we once lost are coming back.”
A large ship sailed on open waters before a gargantuan tentacle much taller than any skyscraper reached up and cut it open like a blade slicing into a fruit. Smoke and the metal innards of the ship spilled out in an instant. Countless people tumbled into the water from the massive gash in the boat.

“This is Ishiro Serizawa’s natural order. This is your natural order. Everyone’s natural order.”
A tornado spun its way toward a row of houses. Inside the tornado vast wings flapped up and down, mostly shrouded in blackened dust and debris. From inside the funnel cloud the wings pushed out like a baby inside a belly. The tornado ripped through the houses, popping them into swirling chunks like exploding pumpkins in a wind machine.

The presentation shifted to aerial footage of a fleet of ships on a still blue sea.

“In a post-Ghidorah world we continue the healing by coexisting with the Titans.”
In the midst of the fleet the furry mass lay prostrate on an aircraft carrier. It was the ape Titan. People swarmed all around the immense hairy limbs like ants. The footage turned to static before showing the fleet again. Now fiery shells shot away from the boats and into the water several hundred yards away. Jets zoomed all over the place. Sandra struggled to figure out what was happening. The cannons and guns seemed to shoot at something invisible to her eye in the water.

“Remember one thing. For us at Monarch, humanity comes first.”
Then one of the ships exploded. Orange flames bloomed from it and debris went flying skyward. The familiar maple leaf shaped edges emerged from the shattered hull. Sandra understood now. Tasman Sea. She remembered what had happened here. Flames bloomed from Godzilla’s back as it was shot at from above. A long tail erupted from the frothing sea and swatted a jet into flaming pieces. The tail toppled down onto a row of two warships, cutting a fiery chasm through them.

Ren cleared his throat. “Recovery efforts in the Tasman Sea took weeks, and they still couldn’t find all the bodies,” he said. “Walker’s brother died on those ships that day.”
“Wasn’t just Monarch,” Sandra pointed out, looking back at him. “Apex led that mission too.”

Ren didn’t even shift his stance as he looked back down at her. “Monarch knew the Titans more than my people did. They knew Gojira would attack if Kong was taken by boat. They could have airlifted Kong if they wished.”

Sandra crossed her arms and faced the onscreen destruction again. She knew the unfinished part of what Ren said. Monarch chose to risk tens of thousands of lives rather than take the safer option. Quite the pattern for them. Yet, she knew all these things already. All this information, including Emma Russell’s manifesto, had been made public years ago.

“There is one more thing I have to motivate all of us,” Ren said. “This will be new for you, Sandra. Monarch’s dirty little secret.”

The destruction footage suddenly cut to black. She heard Martin suck in an agonized breath. In front of her, Victor slightly tensed up in his chair. She felt curiosity, but in an instant it became replaced with trepidation that gripped her heart.

She turned around in her seat. “What is it?” she asked. Ren didn’t respond. Instead he faced the glowing laptop screen, seemingly preparing something. His hair flopped down nearly over one eye. He tapped a key and the projection screen came to life again. The portrait of a man with light hair that had been trimmed faced her, huge on the screen.

“This man’s name is James Lavaro,” Ren announced. “In 2013 his body was found inside a car in the depths of a lake in Utah.”

Sandra’s eyes went wide. The gaping feeling of some incoming horrible thing left her speechless. She could only listen.

“Five days before he died he contacted a man, a journalist, who was investigating Monarch. His death was ruled an accident. He supposedly fell asleep while driving and rolled into the lake." He stopped there, letting it hang like a ghastly ornament in a cold wind. Then he hit another key.

The picture changed to that of another man. He smiled at the camera but avoided showing his teeth. He was chubbier than the first man.

“Henry McCarthy,” Ren said. “A hacker who frequented the deep web, found dead inside a forest in 2013. He was shot in the head. Martin’s cousin.”
Sandra spun to face Martin as rough lines of grief sprang up around his eyes. His face gave a slight turn away from the screen.

“Who… who shot him?” Sandra asked.

“The murder remains unsolved,” Ren answered. “But we do know he and James Lavaro contacted the same journalist. Both men were killed a few months apart.”

Sandra didn’t like where this headed. “What happened to the journalist?”

“He stopped investigating Monarch,” Ren said. “And I think you can guess why.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Sandra said. “How the hell do you even know this stuff?”

Ren paused. “An associate,” he finally said.

Sandra narrowed her eyes at him. She scoffed, “An associate? What the heck does that mean?”

Ren tapped another key on his keyboard. The chubby guy on screen became replaced by a photo of a car door that had been taken from inside a car. A massive streak of blood painted the door. Sandra’s question was quickly forgotten, drowned by her horror.

“Martin gave us the transcript of an online conversation between Henry and another man,” Ren said in an unmoved and implacable manner. “Henry told this man about possessing a video that belonged to Monarch.”

“Several videos,” Abby piped up in her seat. “But the video he spent most of the conversation talking about was of Titanus Kong, taken during Mission: Skull, and had been classified at the time. Monarch eyes only. But McCarthy, our hacker, was prepared to share it with the journalist. He told the man, who was never identified, about his plan to do this. His body was found thirteen days later,” she held her hand out to the screen. “As you can see here.”

Sandra’s reporter’s brain had been triggered, but she wasn’t sure if asking her question would be the best move. She didn’t want to come off as insensitive. “So,” she said. “Where’s this transcript exactly? If Martin’s cousin yanked one of Monarch’s videos and has a whole transcript talking about it, I probably would’ve found that by now. I’m not saying you’re lying, but I’m curious.”

Abby raised her eyebrow. But before her mouth ran like a hamster on a wheel, Martin cut in.

“The deep web,” he said. “He shared the transcript with me. A copy of it is still out there on the deep web, though.” He looked at Sandra and dipped his head. Sandra nodded back.

Ren clicked on his presentation. The bloody car door switched to the image of a man exiting a silver jet. He wore a suit and his black hair came forward to cover his forehead. His face, turned to the sky, had come alive with sunlight. His eyes stared up, filled with ambition.

“This man is Flynn Grayer,” Ren stated. The way he said the name sounded different. Sandra could’ve thought a hint of spite had gone into his voice just now. “Head of Monarch’s Interpersonal Division.”

Sandra had read about this division of Monarch. From what she knew it had been their job to maintain the cover-up of the Titans. They had been disbanded after the San Francisco attacks, yet brought back after the Mass Awakening. She had never pinpointed an actual reason for them to be brought back so she suspected another cover-up.

“They killed people who knew too much,” Martin said with venom in his voice. “My cousin was one of them. After he was murdered, men called my house. They told me I would be next if I talked. But I didn’t give a shit, oh no. I went to the police, but they couldn’t trace the phone that called my house. They couldn’t do much of anything. I know it was them. I know it was Monarch.”

“You weren’t afraid?” Sandra asked him. “Not even a little?”

“I learned how to shoot guns after that,” Martin told her. “I carried one every time I left my house. No one touched me. Because these people are cowards. Eventually I stopped it though.”

Sandra twisted her mouth in disbelief. She knew Monarch had done terrible things, but this… This had crossed an obvious line.

“The Interpersonal Division has operated within Monarch, with ties to the CIA, since the early 80s,” Abby stated. “They didn’t just kill people though. To cover up the existence of Titans they blackmailed journalists, threatened people’s families, paid off investigators, tortured those they deem terrorists, used disinformation campaigns to ruin people’s reputations-”

“They’ve even disappeared people,” Erica added. “Holding them who-knows-where.”

“All of Monarch knows about them,” Ren added. “Flynn Grayer has been their director since 1998. And in that time, he did his best to cover up the Titans. And he killed people to do this.”

Sandra gaped, eyes wide in horror. She faced the screen again. The clean shaven, smiling man exiting the jet still remained there. “Holy shit.” she said. All traces of good will or charitability she had toward Monarch burned away right then.

This was worse than anything Apex had done. Sandra wondered how many people had gone missing because of this Interpersonal Division. She wondered how many dozens of families woke up every day, wondering if and when their loved one would return. She pictured the faces of the Monarch leaders, trying to imagine Ishiro Serizawa and Vivienne Graham allowing murder to happen. She tried to imagine Mark Russell being okay with bringing Flynn Grayer back into Monarch. Surely he would be privy to his history. It made no sense to her, yet her team’s words seemed believable. Then again, proof would be nice.

“Could I hear the audio?” she asked. “If none of you mind.”

“I’ll show you after this.” Abby answered her. Sandra nodded.

“Now you see, Sandra,” Ren said. “You see the hidden face of Monarch. We aren’t just fighting against big blunders or agents gone rogue. We are fighting against willful murder and terrorism.”

“And the terrorism is funded,” Erica said in disgust. “Funded by boatloads of money.”

Sandra considered all the arguments she had seen over the years about Monarch. She remembered all the people who gave them the benefit of the doubt, made up excuses for them, or said there were still good folks within. Wrong.

History would crush these people beneath its feet. Monarch would be reviled through the generations. Excuses wouldn’t look good in hindsight, so there would be no good history for them. Sandra became sure that, with enough time, the general populace would treat the hourglass Monarch sigil the same way people treated sigils and memorabilia from any terrorist organization.

But first, they needed to be stopped. She felt ready to fight, and it didn’t matter what she had to do. Her rage grew. She turned to face Ren as he stood behind the projector.

“Whatever the plan is,” she said. “I’m in. I’m fucking in.”

Chapter 10: Flame

Summary:

Adversary's plan is formulated as Sandra gets acquainted with her new friends.

The audio stopped. Abby Neil closed the laptop quickly. She clearly wasn’t used to sharing her onscreen contents with other people. The recorded conversation had raised goosebumps all over Sandra. It felt like listening to the utterings of a ghost. She wouldn’t be the same after hearing it, but she felt glad she heard it. Only the raw audio satisfied her.

The room remained silent. It seemed to hold its breath in the darkness. Sandra could no longer hear thunder. “Thank you.” she said.

Abby nodded. “If Monarch went to great lengths to conceal the Skull Island expedition they’re definitely concealing something else,” she said. “Multiple things, probably.”

Sandra frowned as she thought about it. Monarch claimed to be up front with the public, but how true could that really be? “What else would they cover up now?” Sandra asked.

Abby shrugged. “Perhaps an illicit mission into the Hollow Earth?” she said. “Maybe they’ll go down there to strip mine it, find other Titans, harvest them, build a breakaway civilization, the possibilities are endless.”

Sandra found that a frightening thought. The Hollow Earth was a can of worms that had given her a worse outlook on the world’s situation. It was essentially a gigantic hornet’s nest, and the fine people at Monarch really liked kicking hornet nests. If they sent people down there, Sandra didn’t even want to imagine what they would rile up. Another Mass Awakening could be one botched Monarch expedition away. That possibility was just another reason to stop these people.

“Ren, do you have anything else for us?” Abby asked. “An actual plan is in order.”

Ren nodded but did not smile. “I do.” He nodded to Erica, then went to a corner of the room. The lights came on as Erica flipped the switches. Sandra blinked, but kept watch on Ren.

He picked up a red box about half the size of an old timey radio. Ren looked down at the thing as he walked back over to them, holding it in his arms as if it was a newborn baby. He came over to the circular table and gently set it down.

“Oh, is this the thing?” Abby inquired. She scooted her chair over to have a closer look.

“What thing?” Sandra asked. She stood and pulled her chair over. All around her she heard and felt everyone else move to gather around the red box. All of them, including Sandra, peered at the thing like kindergartners looking at a strange toy in Show-and-Tell. The only thing on the table that was red, this box almost looked like a miniature fire truck.

“The FT-100 smoke machine,” Ren said. He laid his hand on the smooth red back and drew his fingers across, caressing it. “It cost me eight-hundred dollars. But this will be worth the price.” his fingers slid slowly over one of the black handles on top.

“A smoke machine?”

“Yes. We must talk about G-Team,” Ren said. “There is a gravel pit in Sisters. The meganula go there on a regular basis, likely to drink from the puddles and rest their wings.”

He held up his pointer finger, stiff and serious. He looked down at everyone sitting around him.
“The key here is that Monarch knows this too. They know where these insects congregate.”

“How do you know this again?” Sandra asked.

“Our man on the inside. He became privy to this information as soon as Monarch landed in Sisters.”

“Who is he?”

“Danny,” Erica answered. “Good dude, you’ll meet him.”

Ren pulled his phone from his pocket and checked something. “Anyway,” He said, looking back at them. “According to Danny Monarch will send G-Team to the gravel pit to stake it out. Their plan is to eliminate the creatures that come there. G-Team will be on location in two days, but I want us there by the end of tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Sandra asked. Sisters was like, three hours away. She wasn’t sure if she would be ready for a road trip like that. Especially as soon as tomorrow. She wondered what she would do with Ian.

“Yes,” Ren said. “We will meet here tomorrow by noon. Once we leave our base you all must follow my car. Once we get to the gravel pit we must prepare. That’s where this smoke machine comes in. We’ll plant it somewhere out of sight. When G-Team arrives to kill the meganula I’ll activate it with a remote. The smoke will scare the meganula away before the soldiers can act. But they will be there to witness it.”

Sandra heard a rough, agitated sigh. She turned to see Walker lean back in his chair, the scowl still on his face.

“Is there a problem, Walker?” Ren asked.
Walker dropped his tattooed arm on the table. “How do you know this’ll work on them bastards? I saw ‘em rip men apart not long ago. And them boys had guns ‘n dynamite. You think smoke’s gonna scare ‘em off?”

“Yes,” Ren asserted. “Smoke will work on the meganula just as it works on bees.”

Walker nodded. “Alright. But I’mma bring guns.”

“The smoke,” Ren continued. “will have a secondary effect. It will confuse the G-Team, blinding them so they can’t get an accurate shot. The meganula will flee. The soldiers will make fools out of themselves and Monarch.”

“What happens if they find the smoke machine?” Sandra asked.

“They won’t know why it’s there,” Ren said. “All they will know is that it’s a lone smoke machine. And they’ll assume it blew on accident.”

Sandra thought about it. Plenty of ways existed to spin this against Monarch. These insects were light work compared to the other things they dealt with. If their cutting-edge G-Team failed this easy mission because of some discarded smoke machine, they would look pretty damned incompetent. She nodded her approval.

“Any chance this’ll get us jammed up with Flynn Grayer?” Romano asked.

“Monarch will never know we’re there.” Ren said.

“You sure? Like, one hundred percent?” Romano asked. “Cause if Monarch puts Grayer on us, we’re screwed. Remember what Leo told us? First time Alan Jonah got locked up, it was cause Grayer caught him.”

Ren gave him a strange look, tilting his head down and narrowing his eyes.

“Last I heard from Leo, with Grayer on the prowl even Jonah’s keeping his head down. So you gotta be sure.”

“I am,” Ren promised. “But if we scout the place and find its hiding places unsuitable, we abandon the plan.”

“Alright,” Romano replied. “Appreciate you, big guy.”

Ren turned around. “Erica, bring us the camera.”

Sandra felt her heart beat faster. She had considered buying a camera herself, but these guys doing it for her would be awesome. Then again, the camera might not have been for her.

She glanced at Erica to see her already walking back to the group with the camera in her hand. It looked expensive yet she carried it like someone would carry a used paper plate. She barely held it in her fingers. Sandra sucked in her breath, wondering how she’d call her out.

Erica tossed the camera from one hand to the other before holding it out to Sandra. She snatched it from Erica before the girl did something stupid. Then she looked down at it, feeling herself smile.

She looked up at Ren. “You bought this?”

Ren nodded. “I told you. You will expose Monarch’s failure. And what a glorious failure it will be.”

"You’re our journalist!” Erica said, sitting back down. “Of course you’d film it all go down. Duh.”

“Well,” Sandra started. A hot feeling of something between shyness and gratitude welled up in her. “Thanks guys. Wow. Can I keep this? Y’know, after?”

“It’s yours.” Ren stated.

“Unless you wanna give it to me.” Victor joked.

Sandra looked back at him, clutching the camera. She almost said the words fat chance. But something stopped her. She couldn’t figure out what, but something about Victor felt different. She actually wanted to be somewhat delicate with her words to not risk offending him. She couldn’t remember the last time she held back a snide remark to not hurt someone’s feelings. Maybe she just hadn’t met anyone new in a long time. The less she thought about it, the better.

She thought of something else to say to him but couldn’t find the words. Stifled, she faced down at her camera again. She turned it over in her hands, trying not to worry about whether Victor’s eyes had stayed on her.

Ren gathered up his red smoke machine and carried it away. Sandra sighed and let down her shoulders. Then she remembered what Walker said about guns. She had something else to say to Victor.

“Should I… you know, bring a gun?”

Victor shook his head. “Walker’s bringing them.”

“It’s a bit too late for me to learn to shoot.” she said with a light laugh.

“Stay by me,” he said. “You know, when we’re there. I’ll shoot for the both of us. If that’s okay with you?”

She laughed. “Okay! I’ll hold you to it.”

“So,” he wondered. “What do you do? For a living, I mean.”

Sandra hesitated, thinking about whether to lie or not. She felt the urge to bite her lip, but swallowed it. “Substitute teacher,” she admitted. “Not too exciting or anything.”

“Oh? Where do you teach?”

Sandra let out a nervous laugh. If she had been white, she definitely would have blushed out of embarrassment. In a papery voice she said, “Winter Park Elementary.”

Victor’s eyes lit up. “Oh, nice! I have a cousin who goes there.”

The nervousness melted from her. “Oh really?” she asked. “Mind telling me their name?”

“Thomas Peterson. Most people call him Tommy,” he answered. “Have you taught him?”
Sandra racked her brain, hoping for that name to emerge from the fuzz of kids’ names. Victor stared at her, waiting for an answer. Sandra shook her head.

“Nah,” she said. “I’ve taught a lot of kids. Maybe I’ll teach him sometime.”

Victor smiled. “How is it? Do you like teaching? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s all good. Kids aren’t bad. Some of the stuff they learn is kinda basic, but it’s whatever.”

Victor nodded. “What do you do when you aren’t teaching? I mean like, stuff at home. Or out of the home.”

Sandra considered her ways of answering that question. She could’ve said she liked to jog, which wouldn’t be a complete lie. Maybe saying she liked to play volleyball with friends would make her sound better.

But she saw a flicker in his eyes. Then she realized something. Doors of possibility became thrown open right then. “Yeah, I sit in my apartment and watch Netflix mostly. Ya know, vibing.”

“I see,” Victor said. “What do you watch on Netflix? If you don’t mind saying.”

Sandra sighed heavily. “A Skyless Reality. Man, this show is awesome.”

“Skyless Reality? I’ve watched that!”

Sandra’s eyes widened and she stared at him. “Seriously? You’re the first person I’ve met who actually watches it.”

Victor shook his head. “It should be more popular in my opinion. My sister watched it too.”

“Hell yeah! Okay, how far are you?”

“I finished it. I mean, all the seasons that are out now.”

“I don’t know what’s taking them so long to make season four.”

Victor’s eyes met hers before they quickly darted to the side. He lifted up his fist and awkwardly coughed into it.

“What?”

“You didn’t know? Season four is out.”

Excitement rose in her as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Holy shi- what? There’s a season four already? Where is it?” Then she realized the other thing he had just said. “You haven’t seen season four? Buddy, how could you not watch it with that cliffhanger?”

“Cliffhanger?” Victor asked. “Oh, you mean at the end of season three? That isn’t much of a cliffhanger.”

“You kidding?”

“Abby has ways of getting me season four. I mean pirating, by the way. But I’d rather wait for it to come to Netflix.”

“You’re waiting for Netflix? It could be months, dude.”

“I can wait months.”

“Screw that. Nah, we gotta get the hookup from Abby.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Sandra laughed and shook her head in mock disapproval. Then she remembered something about her leader. She turned to him.

“Ren?”

He glared at her. “It’s Ben.”

“Fine. Ben. Does Monarch still think you’re dead?” she asked. “Did Danny say anything about them mentioning you?”

“According to Danny they don’t talk about me,” he responded. “But we should go forward assuming they know I am alive.”

“Seriously?”

Ren nodded. “Three surviving outsiders were at Apex’s Hong Kong facility at the time of the incident. These three witnesses desecrated my station. They likely saw the medics and guards take me to safety.”

“Random folks saw this?” Sandra asked. Now that he mentioned it she did remember reading about a few witnesses that got inside Apex’s headquarters. “Okay, are any of these witnesses credible?”

“Just one,” he answered. “Russell’s daughter. She was there, so we must assume Monarch knows I survived.”

It made sense to Sandra. The girl probably had the ear of her father, the deputy director. If he took her seriously he probably knew Ren still lived. And with assholes like Flynn Grayer at his disposal, Mark Russell could easily track Ren down if Adversary made a mistake and exposed themselves.

Just then, faces and voices from the era that had ended long ago floated to the forefront of her mind, like unwanted corpses floating to the surface of a lake. No matter how many rocks she used to weigh them down the faces and names kept floating back up. Then they stopped. They vanished.
The urge to bite her lip also vanished as she listened to her friends move about. Chairs scraped against the floor, shoes squeaked, and bags were lifted from the ground.

Ren stood up straight. “It is time for us to go home,” he announced. “It is late. Each of you, go straight to your homes and sleep well. No partying, no drinking, no smoking. You must rise early tomorrow with clear minds.”

“It’s gonna be a big day!” Erica shouted. She gave an enthusiastic hand clap.

Sandra placed her camera into her purse. She felt excited for the gravel pit mission now. It was risky, but that had become part of the thrill. The people at Adversary had their quirks and hiccups, but she had begun to like that about them. It was how a friend group should be. She stood and glanced at everyone. Walker pulled the pistol from his belt, popped it open, and checked it before sliding it back with a grunt. He turned and swept through the door without saying a word. Erica put on her backpack, resembling a schoolgirl. Martin whispered something to her, causing her to giggle. Movement encircled Sandra as people began making their way to the door.

She needed a ride home. She pulled out her phone and began ordering an Uber as her feet made for the door. She walked through it, finding herself behind Victor. She tapped his shoulder and he looked over.

“Hey, Victor. What car do you drive?”

“Oh, a Jeep Patriot. You?”

“Nothin, man.”

“Really?” he asked. “How did you get here?” They turned a corner, following Erica’s ponytail through the dim warehouse.

“I took an Uber here.”

Victor sighed and shook his head. “Want me to give you a ride home?”

Bingo. Sandra thought. “Yes, please. Thank you!”

They continued walking to the exit. The door in front of them opened and fresh air, diluted with dew and moss, blew in from the night. Romano, Martin, Abby, and Erica walked out first. Sandra and Victor stepped out after. Cool air struck her face and air. Behind them, Ren slipped out of the door with his bag. The storm had stopped, but the sky remained cloudy. Sandra followed Victor around the warehouse to a parking lot.

Victor led her toward his Patriot. Its spotless blue hide impressed the hell out of Sandra. Lights came on in the nearby cars as they rumbled to life. All around her the cars rolled out of their places and sped off into the night. Sandra climbed into the passenger seat and checked her purse.

Wallet, keys, phone, and camera. The important things were all there. She thought about her dog at home, safe and fully fed. She’d be with him soon. She took out her phone and typed her address into a random text message box. She showed Victor.

He looked at it and nodded. “That’s where your house is?”

Sandra shook her head. “Apartment.”

“I know that area. Fairly sure that’s near the art museum. You got everything?”

“Yup. Let’s go, chief.”

Victor started the engine. “You up for Sisters tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah,” Sandra put on her seatbelt. “I’ve never been so pumped to stake out an empty gravel pit.” Victor chuckled, then backed out of his spot in the lot and drove off. Sandra glanced at the time.

“It’s only ten,” Sandra said. “If not for tomorrow’s trip I’d be hitting the clubs. I’d be getting drunk.”

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah! With all my people, too.”

“Wow. Sounds fun.” he stared at the road in front of him. Sandra stared at the road as well. The silence that followed brought on a momentary yet inexplicable feeling of emptiness. The urge came to bite her lip. But she denied the compulsion. Her fingers went for her purse and unzipped it. She reached inside and felt the contours, corners, and the lens of the camera. Her lips relaxed.

“We gotta set a date for A Skyless Reality,” she insisted. “You know that?”

Victor’s eyes left the road for a split second, darting to her and back. "I think we should watch season four together." he said.
Sandra couldn't help but smile. Both of them hadn't seen the fourth season of the show. She could think of few better things than to see it for the first time by his side. She didn't care about the when or the how.

The car bulleted through the night.

Chapter 11: Fight Fire with Gasoline

Summary:

In the first battle between Adversary and Monarch, Sandra is forced to fight and Megaguirus' offspring become caught in the middle.

The trip had started like any other. She rode in the Jeep, looking forward to the hotel.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Sandra clicked the phone selfie camera. It perfectly captured her and Victor, though his eyes remained on the road and his relaxed hands held the wheel. She felt fine with the picture. Ahead of them was Ren’s sleek black car. They paused behind the car, stopped by a red light. Sandra heard the revving of a motorcycle behind them. She looked back and saw the tattooed arms. Walker wore no helmet, but he did wear sunglasses. Sandra turned back to Victor.

“So, you’re the lucky one who gets to ride behind our cap-i-tan?”

“Yeah, Ren and I go way back.”

“Well, I guess that makes me lucky too.”

Just then the screaming of an ambulance siren cut through the air. Red and white lights blinked on and off in the corner of Sandra’s eye. She turned to see the emergency vehicle emerge from the traffic and cross the street in front of them. A bulky police car followed it, blaring its sirens and flashing lights as well. Sandra smirked, reminded of a song from her favorite character on television.

“Call me Jojobands, call me Jojobands, call me Jojobands,” she began.

“Five-O, come and catch me if you can.” Victor deepened his voice in what Sandra assumed was an attempt to replicate the toughness of the character. He turned to regard her with a nod.

“We’re still gonna see season four together,” Sandra told him. “Whatever happens tomorrow isn’t gonna change that.”

“Maybe,” Victor replied. “If you play your cards right.” The light changed to green. Ren pulled forward and Victor followed. Sandra rolled down her window to let the wind blow in.

“Since you know this group better than I do, maybe you can answer a question I got.”

“It isn’t just ‘this group’,” Victor said. “It’s your group. You’re one of us.”

“Either way, you probably know why Romano drives that shitty pickup.”

Victor shrugged. “He likes it. It’s his taste.”

Sandra nodded. She hung her arm out of the car and tapped her hand against the door. Strands of her hair blew about in the wind. She glanced up at the cloudless sky. The sun beamed. She thought about what Victor had said, not about the shitty pickup truck, but Adversary. This was her group. Her people.

As they steered onto a highway she realized that somehow, she hadn’t entirely believed it. That unbelief had been foolish. Last night Erica had somehow gotten her phone number and asked Sandra via text message to let her know once she got home safe. And today, Victor had been willing to wait outside in his Jeep while Sandra dealt with her dog’s last minute antics. They considered her. They wanted her to be safe. Surely that meant they had become her people. She wouldn’t be playing this friendship by ear. Adversary wouldn’t be temporary. They were here to stay. She kicked her lingering doubt to the curb.

“You know I should bring my dog to the warehouse,” she said, trying to convince herself of the idea as much as him. “You guys would like him. He’s a good boy. A very good boy.”

“You should. What’s his name? Where is he now?”

“His name’s Ian,” she said. “My apartment receptionist is dog-sitting him. Dude’s gonna want something from me after but it is what it is.”

“You should bring Ian. Martin likes dogs.”
Ren steered into an exit. Sandra lightly tugged on her seatbelt as they did the same. She heard and felt the caravan snaking out of the highway. The road thinned and quieted as they drove farther from civilization.

“How far are we?” Sandra asked.

“Hmmm,” Victor said. “Considering that we just got off 42 North, I’d say we’re a half hour from the gravel pit.”

They kept driving behind Ren. All the while Sandra felt nervous itches. She expected a helicopter to fly over and mark them or something. At any moment a warning siren would come and give them few options as the cops bore down. She looked up front beyond Ren’s car, then twisted her head to try seeing behind their caravan.

Nothing. No police cars or people standing on the road looking at them strangely could be seen. In fact, the caravan was all alone on this narrow road. She sat comfortably in her seat and let herself breathe. Looking out the window all she saw was a river. They drove alongside it for a couple minutes before they entered a forest. The road widened. A van passed them going the opposite direction. They crossed a set of old train tracks. After this, Ren’s black car began slowing down. Sandra was surprised there’d be traffic in these parts. Then she realized the road ahead of Ren remained clear.

“What’s happening?” she asked. “Why’s he slowing down?”

“We’re approaching the dirt road,” Victor said. “Like Ren told us today, once we get to this dirt road we’ll let him drive way ahead of us. We’ll each take turns getting on the road. If we’re all together traveling down that road it’ll look suspicious.”

“I feel ya.”

Suddenly Ren sped up, pulling away from them. His car unexpectedly turned right, kicking up dust as it bounced onto the dirt road. He sped off through the trees. Victor continued driving at his slow speed. He pulled to the shoulder of the road and parked. Sandra looked back and saw the pickup truck behind them parked further back. Walker had parked his motorcycle on the opposite side of the road from the truck. All the better for looking like they weren’t together.

“How long are you planning to wait?”

“Ten minutes.”

An SUV drove past them. Sandra glanced at the time, then rolled her window halfway up. The blazing sun continued to filter through the trees as she waited for their moment. The air whooshed as another car passed them.

She glanced at the time again. Just as she realized ten minutes had gone by, Victor shifted the car out of park. He drove off the shoulder and toward the junction. As the brown skip of dirt grew closer Sandra saw the deep rough tire tracks that marked the last turn. Where Ren had wildly bumped onto the dirt road Victor gently steered onto it. The seat jerked about and rocked under her as the car rumbled down the path. Alongside them the trees were brown street poles. She rolled up the window entirely.

“Sometimes I think,” Sandra began. “We should just move somewhere nice. You know, all together.”

“All of us?” Victor held the wheel steady.

“Yeah.” It was something she wanted to do with her old crew. The dream had always been to live in a big house together. She remembered renting out a room in her first house to Jessica. That was supposed to have been the start of it.

Victor glanced over at her for a split second. “Somewhere on the coast maybe,” he said. “You know how the housing market is these days. We could get a nine bedroom beachfront villa. And live like kings and queens, maybe.”

Sandra laughed as she recalled how the market value for coastal housing plummeted after G-Day.

“True,” Sandra agreed. “We could just get that big-ass villa, sip scotch, and soak in the sun for the rest of our days.”

“Ah, is this you getting cold feet? Are you backing out of the mission?”

Sandra turned to him, waggling her eyebrows. “Do I look like I’m getting cold feet?” she challenged playfully. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I am certainly not,” Victor said. “But jokes aside, we’re doing something meaningful here. We expose Monarch, maybe the good ones there will do something useful with what’s left of it.”

Sandra frowned. “What do you mean the good ones?”

“Well, we know they can’t all be bad.”

“But they’re with bad people.”

“Yeah,” Victor’s voice grew guarded and low. Then it rose once he returned to the point. “But what we’re doing is worth more than just buying a big house.”

Sandra’s smile returned. “I’m just saying, dude. Together, with all our skills, we can do anything.”

The dirt road led them on. Ren’s car was nowhere in sight, but the dirt road would lead them to their destination. The trees began to dwindle. Bugs jumped amongst the grass close to the car as they drove by. Finally the grass changed to rocks and bare dirt. The trees became even fewer. A sign loomed on a gate several yards away. It said:

PRIVATE PROPERTY
KEEP OUT
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED

The car rumbled past the sign and fence. The fence came to an end, seemingly cut away over a dozen yards from the sign. Sandra felt a pang of nervousness. “Heh, we’re gonna get ourselves arrested.”

“If we get caught.”

Right beside big clumps of scrub Sandra saw Ren’s car. Ren stood outside it, having ditched his black jacket for once. Seeing him in a beige t-shirt felt odd. Ren looked at them with calm, expectant eyes. He held up his hand in the hot sun in an unspoken command to stop. Victor stopped and shifted the car into park. He and Sandra immediately came out of their Patriot.

“We must park our cars away from each other,” Ren said as they approached. “The placement must look random.”

Victor narrowed his eyes in thought and looked back at his car. “Should I move it?” he asked.

Ren shook his head. “Do not worry, you’ve parked fine.”

“The signal sucks around here,” Sandra pointed out. “I can’t find the nearest fast food place. You know, for when we’re done.”

“We can worry about that after we go to the hotel today.” Ren stated. Sandra wondered if good food could be found anywhere near that hotel. Sandra absent mindedly kicked a rock on the ground. As it rolled away she remembered the smoke machine.

“Did ya bring the thing?” she asked. “The smoke machine?”

Ren nodded. “Once everyone gets here we will go to the gravel pit. The meganula will be there, so be careful. We will find places to hide before we leave today.”

Amidst her thoughts about getting captured by law enforcement or by Monarch, Sandra had forgotten the creatures. She wasn’t sure she wanted to meet them. “Where did Walker keep the guns again?”

“They are in Romano’s trunk,” Ren answered. “I have a sidearm. Just in case.”

“You do? Like, on you right now?” Sandra couldn’t imagine him carrying a gun. Ren nodded again.

Just then she heard the loud report of a motorbike. She turned around and saw the rising plume of dust right behind the motorcycle. Mitchell Walker rode toward them. As he did so Sandra felt her stomach sink slowly. She remembered another weapon he had said he’d bring. He had managed to get his hands on a grenade. Maybe he had just been extra cautious. She hoped they wouldn’t need a grenade tomorrow. In fact, part of her hoped tomorrow wouldn’t come.

But ready or not, tomorrow came.

_________________________________

In the cold hours of the morning, the blades of the Osprey ripped through the air in rhythmic thuds. Jackson Barnes had gotten used to the sound a long time ago. He heard his troops behind him. Colonel Foster sat back with them while he sat up front alongside Lauren Griffin, a pilot he could depend on when things got hairy.

“Whole damn place looks abandoned.” Griffin said.

“It ain’t,” Barnes replied. The creatures would be here. The briefing had been long, but worth it. The job had been laid out clearly, finding and smoking out the bugs at the gravel pit. It seemed easy enough, but he remained prepared for the mission to go sideways. And when he looked to the approaching ground through the glass he had a feeling this job was sure to go pear-shaped.

A triple set of train tracks passed under them, half buried in rust. Dusty, unmoving cars looked no bigger than kids’ toys from this height. They passed over a chain link fence. A pickup truck sat with a large blanket in its flatbed. The blanket covered a couple unknown objects which formed large bumps in it. His eyes went to the gravel pit.

The pit was square shaped, the straight lines and sharp corners standing out in the clear rocky landscape. As the sun came out its light reflected from big clear puddles inside the pit like miniature lakes. Barnes felt the silence emanating from it, even with the rotor noise. Griffin’s remark seemed like an understatement. This place wasn’t just abandoned. It felt like the town itself had forgot it even existed. Barnes wondered if anyone from Sisters had even stumbled across it in recent years. The Osprey descended a couple feet and Barnes saw them. From this height, they looked almost like normal-sized dragonflies. Ghastly brown and blackened forms flew or crawled about over the rocks and weeds. A few of the wings remained stationary next to the puddles. As the V-22 flew over a couple of the bugs took to the air and flew about in chaotic arcs like leaves in fall stirred up by wind.

No matter where Barnes looked, the thin wings seemingly sprouted from the stone. Where he picked out one creature, he found at least five more nearby. He instinctively checked for cover on the ground. While much of the ground was open, a few places to hide caught his eye: a massive boulder at least a dozen yards from the pit, an old car with its front tires missing, and a couple large bushes seemingly strewn about in small spots of green.

“I’m gonna land us behind that shed.” Griffin told him. She pointed out a shed almost seventy yards from the gravel pit.

Barnes looked at her and nodded. “Do your thing.”

Griffin proceeded to aim for the shed and nose the V-22 down. Barnes heard heavy boots behind him as someone made their way to the front. The soldier came alongside Barnes, between him and Griffin.

“Are we about to land?” the man asked.

“Sure Kudo, give it a few minutes.” Barnes replied. Daniel Kudo, a Japanese American, was the newest member of the team. But sometimes Barnes wondered if the man had joined this unit for the wrong reasons. He could be scrappy and overeager. They were on a monster hunt, but that needed a stable mind, not a ruthless one.

The Osprey jolted slightly as it floated down. It finally bumped down behind the shed that looked a little bit like one of those reusable water bottles. Barnes felt the movement of all the soldiers. The door opened quickly, carving a short path to the outside. His eyes found Colonel Foster. She stood beside the door.

“Everyone! On boss lady!” he commanded. With Foster in the lead the soldiers surged outside.

“Stay together,” Foster hissed. “We’ve got one above us.”

Barnes risked a glance up to see one of the massive dragonflies fly over them. Figuring that it was at least twice the size of an eagle, he wasn’t in a hurry to encounter more of the things.

They moved toward the gravel pit, wary of more bugs. As they walked briskly over the rocks he heard a buzzing hum every few minutes. Yet he couldn’t tell where it came from. He found himself wondering if someone’s drone had gotten out here. But once they got near the edge of the gravel pit he realized with dread that the prehistoric bugs were making those sounds. And the gravel pit was full of ‘em.

Ragweed and sunflowers grew within the pit, seemingly vying for dominance. The dragonflies walked or flitted over the plants, stopping by large puddles to drink. Or do whatever the heck giant insects do at puddles. They looked even uglier in person. Small horns jutted above their big eyes. Their reddish black scales looked so burned he expected smoke to radiate from them. What really drew his eyes were the long and sharp pincers, each one almost the size of his rifle. Being caught by one of these wasn’t his idea of fun.

“We take them by surprise,” Foster said. “Everybody get into position.”

As planned, they spread across the edge of the pit. A few feet separated each of them as they pointed their guns into the trench. Every time the giant bugs flapped a short distance their wings created a low murmur. It made Barnes' skin crawl.

“Hell yeah.” Kudo growled.

“Kudo, focus.” Foster commanded.

Then Barnes noticed movement, or at least he thought he did, on the other side of the pit. He lifted his eyes over the massive insects and up to an abandoned car. Dust and dirt covered the car entirely. It had no front tires. The windows were nonexistent. Brown, yellow, and gray spots pockmarked the aged walls of the vehicle. It sat unmoving in the stone like an ancient artifact.

He almost swore he saw the silhouette of a person right behind it. But he knew better. No way anyone was stupid enough to waltz about in an area inhabited by giant man-eating insects. Except his team of course.

Foster held up her hand and started lowering her fingers one at a time for the countdown. Barnes hoped the bugs would do what the bosses thought they’d do and fly away from the bullets. If not, the team would have to shoot fast and get the hell outta dodge. Two fingers left. Foster lowered one before lowering the other. Well, here goes nothing. He thought.

_________________________________

The second day at the gravel pit had come. Sandra tried hard not to be terrified, but that was easier said than done as she huddled underneath the white blanket on Romano’s pickup truck. She gripped her camera in both hands. The hotel had been nice. The room service had been great, she found the food decent, and the neighborhood had been fun. She wished they could’ve just stayed at the hotel forever. It would’ve felt a lot better than being out here.

Under the white, movement came from beside her. “Victor,” she whispered. “Where are they?”

Ren had planted the smoke machine almost an hour ago. Not long after this she had heard the rotors of the Osprey. They had reached the point of no return. If they made to leave now, Monarch would most certainly capture them or shoot them dead. Ren’s plan seemed fullproof so far. Sandra hoped it would stay that way.

Victor lifted his portion of blanket ever so slightly. Air flooded in. “I don’t see them.” Victor said.

“Don’t be stupid and let them see us.” Martin whispered on Victor’s other side. He shut the blanket. Sandra was back to smelling her own sweat.

She tried not to think about the numerous giant dragonflies roaming about not even four yards in front of her. The occasional propeller-like buzzing raised the hairs and goosebumps on her flesh.

After what felt like an eternity she raised the blanket in front of her into a small hole to peek through. Massive, crooked-winged dragonflies clung to the wall of the gravel pit farthest from her. But no people. No Monarch operatives. She shut the blanket. Ren must’ve been waiting and watching intently. As much as she didn’t like Walker’s sullen attitude he seemed helpfully careful as well. She knew they had stationed themselves inside an old, beat-up car here. She could count on them.

Victor’s handgun lay right between them but if she needed another, several rifles rested right underneath the pickup. She rolled to her side and checked the camera’s battery. Good, it still had plenty of power left.

Fresh air and light streamed in again as Martin opened the blanket on his side. Sandra heard a gasp which made her stomach grow tight. Despite already knowing, she asked “What is it?”

“It’s them,” Martin whispered. “Monarch soldiers.”

The moment of truth had come. Ren’s smoke machine would be waiting. Sandra hurriedly flipped to the video function on the camera. Slightly lifting up the blanket in front of her she poked the camera out, exposing the front of it to open air. She began recording.

“What’s going on?” Martin asked.

“Shhh!” Sandra snapped. She moved the camera around until she found the soldiers.

There they were, clad in typical military camouflage uniforms. Helmets rested on their heads. Sandra couldn’t see their faces, but she could see their guns. They spread out to overlook the gravel pit. The dragonfly monsters didn’t seem to react to them. She supposed she shouldn’t have been shocked since they didn’t react to Ren earlier when he placed his smoke machine among them.

A loud, almost mechanical buzzing came from below. Her ears became used to the occasional sounds, like they would with thunderclaps in a rainstorm. Sweat beads formed on her forehead as G-Team stood at the ready. Their rifles aimed down into the pit.

Sandra continued rolling as the Monarch troops seemingly waited for some kind of signal. Whatever that signal was, she’d never know. But she did know once it came. They fired their guns directly onto the giant insects.

Instantly, the giant dragonflies reacted to the rain of bullets. They rose up into a cloud of wings. The grotesque buzzing sound came, slapping her ears. Several of the insects dropped to the ground, torn from the whirring cloud by bullets. The rough hum from all the wings blended together. Just then, smoke jetted into the bottom of the swarm. The bright white smoke looked almost like the tail of a comet, except the source came from somewhere below. The silky white plume began to climb into the swarm. Giant insects flew in and out of the smoke cloud as it increased in size. To the sides of the cloud she glimpsed the soldiers throw themselves into the pit. They fell more than they ran in. In the spreading fog, bright flashes signaled where guns were fired. Most of the shots fired into the storm of insects and smoke.

Then Sandra noticed something else. While a couple of the dragonflies deserted the battlefield, many of them still flew about in and out of the billowing smoke cloud. The hum oscillated from low to high pitch. The sound nearly caused her jaw to vibrate. Just then, a scream came from beneath. Her fingers became slick with sweat as she watched a soldier inside the pit stagger through the fog, two of the winged monstrosities on his back.

He fell beneath her line of sight before the two insects, each half the size of the man, flew up into view with the man in their grip. He no longer screamed, pressed against their darkened underbellies and held in their massive pincers. The massive wings droned as they flew up and out of view.

Popping sounds continued and lights flashed from the report of shotguns. Sandra tried holding her mind to the task. She heard Ren’s voice in her head. “Be the one to show the world Monarch’s failure.”

She moved the camera in an attempt to capture everything. Bullets continued to whizz and giant insects continued to fly. The smoke machine continued, creating a fog that swirled in the wind. Cries to retreat floated up from the gravel pit. Soldiers climbed out of the pit, using vegetation on the walls to pull themselves up. A scream for help came just before Sandra witnessed four of the winged horrors pounce on a soldier farther from the pit.

“No…” she whispered.

The struggle became partially obscured by the fog. She squinted and saw the human and creatures writhing around on the floor. The massive backsides of the insects flexed and twisted about like giant sausages. Then one of the insects tore away, gripping something in its pincers. The human didn’t move after that. The other three lifted him off the ground and carried him away. Other soldiers ran away. One of them shot wildly behind her, screaming incoherently. She made sure to get the retreating soldiers on film, deciding to think about the deaths later. Right now she had a job to do.

She swung her camera to view two soldiers moving at full sprint. They drew close to an old car. A winged monster leapt onto the back of one of them. He nearly went down, but reached back with his hand and tore the creature from himself. Four more dragonfly creatures droned toward them. The other soldier opened a back door before diving into the car. His buddy bundled in with him and slammed the door shut. The buzzing bodies crashed into the car. The wings screeched against the steel. Yet they stopped immediately. They dropped to the ground, stilling their wings. The soldiers moved about inside the car. Sandra swung her camera away.

Just then, gunshots popped off on her side of the gravel pit. Her eyes widened and she fought the urge to gasp. That sound had been way too close.

“Help!” a voice screamed a few feet from the pickup truck. It was Erica’s. Gunshots rang again. Then Sandra heard the hum of an advancing dragonfly. Movement came from the other side of the flatbed.

“Erica?” Martin yelled. “Erica!”

“Martin, don’t-” but Victor didn’t get his words out before Martin swept the blanket off them in one frenzied motion. Sandra hit the button to stop recording as sunlight hit her. She glanced back to see the blanket fall from the pickup truck, exposing all three of them. The dreadful hum somehow became louder, spilling out of the pit and washing over her.

Victor grabbed his gun as Martin leaped from the truck and out of sight. Sandra rolled to her knees and saw Erica shooting up at a giant dragonfly creature. It hovered above her, then shot to the side as she fired at it. The rifle looked heavy in her hands as she steadied it for another shot. Victor aimed his handgun and fired. The insect dropped to the ground, falling on its back. Its wings fluttered rapidly, creating a dry reedy buzz. Its body buzzed about in a jagged circle. Dirt flew from the humming, vibrating carapace in a small fountain. Erica fired another round into one of its obsidian eyes, stilling the creature.

The immense, wide hum still filled the air. It felt like being stuck in a room with a massive fly swarm, and the room had been built to amplify sounds.

Looking into the sky behind them Sandra saw more of the creatures shooting toward them. She and Victor leaped off the flatbed as rugose wings sliced the air above them. Sandra stumbled to her knees, then grabbed a rifle from beneath the truck. It felt surprisingly light in her hands. Bangs all around made her mind spin as she tried to open the chamber. No luck. She spotted the charging handle. Pulled it. A deep click came so she was sure the gun would fire.

A giant dragonfly screamed toward her from above. She whipped her head to the side and it zipped right beside her ear, nearly taking her head off. She stood straight again, tracking the attacker with her eyes. Its wings were a blur as it circled then swooped down again. This time Sandra swung the rifle with all her strength. She felt the thud as it connected with the big bug, sending it into the ground with a crack. The creature went silent. It bounced onto its six legs and turned to face her. She tried not to stare into its big, round, glassy eyes. She pretended the black hole of its mouth wasn’t there.

With barely a thought she aimed down at the creature and disengaged the safety. She squeezed the trigger, collapsing the center of its head. She squeezed the trigger repeatedly. Empty shell casings flew as she fired into it. Eventually she pulled the trigger and only heard empty clicks. She lowered the rifle from her eyes, mouth agape. The creature lay pulverized at her feet. Its twisted innards mingled with its curled legs. One of its wings lay shattered, a piece of glass that time forgot.

A hand roughly grabbed her arm and pulled. She turned to see Romano beside her. “We have to go!” he shouted. She nodded and let him push her toward his truck.

More of the giant dragonflies appeared in the air above them. They swooped down like massive insectile hawks. Romano aimed his pistol at them with both hands. They droned almost robotically as they hurtled downward. Their wings flapped in a blur as they flew. Sandra wanted to run but she forced her legs to stay still behind Romano. He shot once. The creatures still swooped down. He shot a second time. Most of them scattered but one of the bugs stiffened, stalling in midair like a malfunctioning drone. But it didn’t change its course. It plummeted to the ground. The pair staggered backward as it smashed into the ground before them. Its hum immediately became a thick, frenzied whine. It rolled in a tangle of bent legs and flapping wings. It went still but Romano shot it again. Sandra’s hand grabbed his arm like a claw. She waited for the creature to rise and attack them again. It did not. Her eyes searched the sky, looking for the others.

But they had gone. The air remained clear. The hum had grown quieter.

She heard the spinning propellers of the Osprey before it landed on the other side of the gravel pit. Dead dragonflies covered the inside of the pit. Some weakly moved on the ground, their wings dragging on stones. The smoke spread wide and thin, growing larger than the pit and partially obscuring the vehicle. The din of gunfire ceased. The buzzing sounds were gone. She saw none of the creatures until movement in the pit caught her eye.

The smoke began to clear. In the corner of the gravel pit farthest from their vehicles the creatures all huddled together, crawling all over each other in a quiet frenzy. None of them took to the wing. At least a dozen of them had hunkered down in the corner. It seemed any dragonfly creatures that could still fly had hidden here. She gazed toward the Osprey and breathed a sigh of relief as the soldiers began to file into it. The hum finally died. A sacramental silence fell over the gravel pit. Sandra heard herself breathe. She had never been so relieved to hear anything. Birds sang in the distance.

The dragonfly creatures had stopped attacking, yet they remained. The Monarch soldiers probably thought they got them all. Or maybe the mission had become too dangerous for them. Or maybe they had simply run out of ammo. Either way, Monarch backed down from a bunch of insect Titan-wannabes. And she would capture the final proof of their failure.

She jogged to the flatbed and grabbed her camera. Pressing the record button she pointed it at the retreating soldiers before swinging it to film the bugs in the corner below. “And here you see,” she stated. “The Monarch team's retreating-” she pointed it back at the soldiers as they stood near the Osprey. “-from these dragonflies.” She turned the camera back to the insect swarm. She filmed them for almost a minute before stopping the recording.

“Good work!” Romano said. Sandra smiled at him as he stood next to the passenger door.

“Where’s everyone?” she asked.

Before he could answer, a man seemingly materialized from the other side of the truck. Sandra turned to him just in time to see him raise his pistol and point it in Romano’s direction. As soon as she saw his camouflage army uniform things started moving in slow motion. Romano’s face suddenly filled with alarm. Bangs erupted from the gun. The sound of breaking glass reached her ears as bullets went through the side windows of the pickup.

In front of her, Romano went down to his knees. He let out a yelp that sounded unlike him. More shots rang out from who-knows-where as Sandra froze. It felt like she had been punched in the belly. In seconds the man stalked around the front of the vehicle. As he strode past the sprawled form of Romano Sandra saw the face beneath his helmet. One glimpse into the dude’s crazed sweat-ringed eyes caused her to turn and run. It didn’t matter where she ran, be it a police station, a swarm of dragonfly creatures, or even a damned cliff. She just ran. Distant yelling carried to her as she sprinted over rocks and dirt. She would know his scowl for eternity.

She realized her camera wasn’t in her hands. Wherever it lay forgotten didn’t matter. All other thoughts emptied from her mind when she heard quick boot thuds behind her. He chased after Sandra like a bull after a red flag. Her shadow trailed beside her as a cold spark of fear flashed in her chest. It was a fear she hadn’t felt before, not even when the firebird Titan had flown over her house. This fear felt more personal. It drove her into the scrub.

Sandra’s body jackknifed into the vegetation as a shot rang out behind her. She waited for the bullet to tear through her shoulder or back, but it never came. She never felt it. But she did hear the crazed soldier slam through the bushes and brambles. She went for broke, scrambling with her hands in an effort to stay ahead of her pursuer. Her mouth wanted to scream but it wouldn’t utter a sound. She leaped and tore her way through sharp thorns and slapping limber bushes. She heard an almost guttural grunt as the Monarch soldier gained on her. Raw adrenaline drove her and she couldn’t shake the awful images of being chased by a rabid dog.

The path opened up and there was Victor, appearing on her left side in full charge toward her. She ran on as bodies collided behind her. She spun around to see Victor in mid-tackle. He bowled the man over and they rolled on the ground. The helmet went up in the air before hitting the ground. Sandra froze again, seemingly unable to do anything about the two men fighting in front of her. Her gaze drifted to a long, silver pipe on the ground several feet away.

The camouflage colors squashed Victor down. The rage-blackened Japanese face glowered down at him as the arm pressed down onto his neck. With his left arm he rained punches down on Victor’s face. Something told Sandra that it would do her no good to run. She wandered over to the pipe and with shaking hands, she picked it up.

“Who are you with?” the Japanese soldier roared at Victor. “Huh? You come in and kill my people! Who sent you?” He switched to choking Victor with both hands. Sandra’s friend pawed at his attacker’s face and shoulders with all the strength of butterflies.

Her hands steadied and gripped the thin, cylindrical pipe. She looked toward the struggle on the ground. Victor’s eyes grew wide and strangled. His face began to turn red. His assailant loomed over him with fingers pressed into Victor’s neck. Another kind of fear took over then, a fright that overwhelmed her reasoning self.

“Let go of him!” she screamed, just then aware she had begun to cry. The nameless Monarch soldier didn’t respond.

“I said, let him go!” she charged in and swung the pipe, cracking him over the head. The pipe vibrated slightly but she kept an iron grip on it.

He remained on top of Victor, paused but not looking up at her. The enemy breathed heavily. Victor bucked up with his hips but couldn’t dislodge him. Sandra swung again with all her strength. The pipe slammed into the side of his face with a loud, almost hollow bang. Tiny white objects flew from his head and scattered on the rocks as he went down. But he went down like a plump, sleepy cat that had been knocked off its feet. The sound echoed in her ears, calling up images of a skull fracture or even a broken neck.

Victor rolled toward Sandra, gasping for air. She still gripped the pipe as her buddy got to his feet. The Monarch soldier lay motionless, suddenly looking a lot smaller and less imposing than earlier. Then he moved. His hands pressed the ground. His head, adorned with a wide trail of blood on its left side, rose up. Victor finally stood next to Sandra. They both looked down at the soldier.

He looked up at them and grimaced, blood flowing freely down his face. It was then that Sandra understood. The things that had fallen on the floor were his teeth. Still Sandra gripped her newfound weapon like a baseball bat during a winning pitch. She glared at him as her breath came in sputtering gasps. The gore streaked man slowly got to his feet and faced them.

“Fine,” he growled. “You win, assholes.”

The rumbling of a motorcycle reached her ears. Just before she looked to see who it was, a gunshot rang into the morning air. The soldier’s eyes went wide and bulged white. His hands flew up to cover the hole in his throat. Blood poured from between his fingers as he fell all the way over. His head hit the ground with a thunk. He lay motionless.

“Walker!” Victor’s yell echoed in Sandra’s ears. She had never heard him get that loud before.

The dude rolled up, slowing down on his motorcycle. He casually put his gun back in his belt. Like he was simply putting his wallet away or something. Sandra gritted her teeth. A confused mix of fear and rage poured into her.

“What!” he yelled. “What the hell did you just do? He surrendered!”

“I ain’t seen that.” Walker retorted. “And how come you didn’t have your gun?”

Just then the pickup truck and Ren’s black car came hurtling from a chain link fence far behind the motorbike. Sandra tried not to feel sealed in by it.
Ren stopped his car, throwing up a cloud of dust. The pickup truck stopped right beside him.

“They’re coming!” he yelled. “Get into the pickup!”

“My car’s still parked out there!” Victor replied.

“It’s fine, man.” Walker told him. “I’ll take you out here to get it later, come on!” the way he said on made it rhyme with bone.

Sandra stayed frozen where she stood gripping the pipe. She soon became aware of the reason for the group’s urgency as the yells of the Monarch soldiers reached her ears. Two gunshots rattled off, almost startling her. Her eyes never went to Walker or anyone else. They remained transfixed on the nameless man’s body.

His mouth hung open in a noiseless cry. His eyes remained only halfway open, not fully open like she thought they would be. His arms were frail chicken bones. Blood surrounded his entire neck and head. It had begun to darken. The yells of the Monarch soldiers grew closer.

The people in front of her remained blurry objects. They floated around in front of her as she shifted her gaze from the nameless body to the pipe in her hands. Scarlet blood wrapped around the end of it furthest from her hands. Her fingers let go and it dropped to the ground, clattering on the rocks.

Victor grabbed her arm. “Come on,” he grunted. “Just breathe. Come with us.”

Sandra followed him onto the back of Romano’s pickup truck. His fingers found the blanket and pulled it halfway over himself. Sandra, without thinking, got into the blanket with him. Raising her head up she looked back at the front of the truck. Walker gunned his bike, flying on the dirt ahead of both cars. Ren moved after him. She felt the wooden flatbed grumble beneath her as the pickup truck moved. It accelerated as she sank back down beside Victor.

They faced out of the back of the truck. Sandra saw vague outlines of the Monarch soldiers running in their direction. The threats took shape but remained small as the truck bounced along. She felt her camera under the blanket beside her thigh.

“Everyone’s here.” Victor said. “Romano’s injured, but he’s able to sit in his passenger seat.”

“Who’s driving?” Sandra asked, staring forward. Her voice felt hoarse.

“Martin is,” he said. “Sandra. Just breathe. Focus on breathing. Don’t think about what happened.”

That pulled her closer to reality. She looked back at him, focusing on his lips. “How can I not? How the hell does that even work?”

He lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. She pressed it to her shoulder with her own hand. For a couple of warm moments she felt safe in the back of this pickup truck. The dwindling silhouettes of the soldiers and the images of the monster dragonflies seemed less threatening. She felt as if she never wanted to leave his side.
Sandra looked into his face again. This time she saw the discoloration of his cheek. There came the image of the nameless soldier’s fists falling on Victor’s face, then the bloody pipe in her hands, then the hole in his throat.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just focus on breathing. We're headed to the E.R.”

She faced away from him, pushing both of her hands under the blanket. A despairing sense of inevitability took over. It felt like something carried her inexorably down a dangerous path just as surely as the pickup truck would carry her to the highway. As they passed another fence it felt like she was losing her grip, like she would have no control anymore.

“We, we killed somebody,” Sandra stammered.

“It was them or us, alright?” Victor insisted. “It was them or us.”

“We killed him,” Sandra said again. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed into his. No, it still didn’t feel real. “We killed him,” she said again. “We fucking killed him.”

The truck rumbled into the treeline and continued on the dirt road.

Chapter 12: Chasing the Story

Summary:

Complications arise for Adversary after one of their own gets injured. Sandra weighs her options as the threat of Monarch looms over her. Ren Serizawa remains one step ahead.

“You win, assholes.”

A gunshot rang out. Its echoes came repeatedly, drowning out the static insectile hum.

Victor’s body tensed against Sandra. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, gripping their blanket tight. A hospital sign passed them as they drove into a parking lot. Right, they had to get Romano into urgent care.

As soon as they parked Sandra looked toward the doors. Martin ran at full sprint toward the entrance. He shouted something. People she assumed were doctors came out to meet him. Doors opened and slammed shut around her as Victor urged her up. He swept the blanket off of them.

Sandra was ushered toward the doors. Her lungs burned. Her heart felt slow. This couldn’t be real. She noticed her people all around her. Adversary. Victor held her hand. Ren guided Romano toward a stretcher. Martin frantically explained something to the swarming nurses. Then she was inside and bright lights came from above.

“I need to hit the bathroom.” she said, her voice coarse.

Victor nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

She rushed inside the nearest private bathroom and didn’t bother turning on the light. She closed the door, extinguishing all the light inside. She fumbled for the door handle and locked the door before opening the toilet. After that she let the tears and the vomit and the screams come. They cascaded from her, wracking her body in jerky motions. Her knees hit the cold floor.

After what could’ve been twenty minutes, an hour, or three hours, Sandra emerged out of the bathroom and back into the light. The first face she saw was Victor’s. She took a sharp breath in and exhaled slowly.

“Where is he?” Sandra asked. “Where’s Romano?”

“They’re working on him now,” Victor told her. “The nurses cleared the room. Everyone went to the lobby. Let’s go.”

As they walked toward the doors at a brisk pace, Victor looked at Sandra before quickly looking away. “Listen, Ben wanted me to ask. You didn’t leave anything at the gravel pit, did you?”

Sandra shook her head. “Of course not.” Then something occurred to her. “Did he ask everyone else if they left something?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Sandra nodded in relief. Then the feeling of careening down a dangerous path came back. What would happen if Monarch found something to trace back to her? Would they ever stop hunting for Adversary? She thought about the Interpersonal Division. The image of the grinning man came, his neat hair falling across his forehead. Flynn. She knew enough about how he dealt with Monarch’s enemies. Even Alan Jonah, the ecoterrorist leader, had known not to cross Monarch when Flynn was on the prowl.

They pushed through the doors. The lobby seemed larger than the emergency room. Multiple seats lay in rows. They faced a TV screen that looked down from a wall. It played Fox News. Ren sat alone in a middle seat. With a beckoning finger he silently called her over. She looked back at Victor.

“I’m gonna, uh, go find Walker.” he said.

“Alright.” Sandra turned and went to sit beside Ren. She looked at him but he didn’t face her.

“Say your piece, Sandra.”

“What? Okay, look. I’m done. I’m out of this bullshit, Adversary, all of it.”

“Lower your voice, and choose your words very carefully.” Ren’s gaze flashed up and to the side before his head turned to regard her.

Sandra looked where he just did and noticed the round, black, watchful eye of the security camera. She immediately lowered her gaze and nodded. Feeling vulnerable she shrank back in her seat. Ren however, looked straight forward. His eyes remained half narrowed as if in thought.

“It is too late,” he said. “If they saw you, then they know you moved against their best interests.”

Just then, something drew Sandra’s eyes to the TV up high. The headline read, Giant Dragonflies Attack Oregon Towns

Above the headline several reporters, some armed with microphones, harassed a man with a light blue dress shirt. The camera struggled to keep him in the shot as he walked quickly toward a gate. He turned to glance at the camera for a second before Sandra recognized him as Russell, the deputy director of Monarch. The reporters and photojournalists shotgunned questions at him.

“What’s Monarch doing to stop this latest Titan threat?”

“Is it true that an ORCA attracted the dragonflies?”

“What can you tell us about the creatures killing people in Sisters?”

“Is Godzilla responsible for this?” 

Cameras clicked furiously. Microphones were practically shoved in the deputy director’s face. One of the reporters came in front of him, causing him to stop. “What measures will Monarch take to stop the attacks?” 

“We are hard at work on measures, right now.” he said briskly. He stepped past the reporter and unlocked the gate. He went in and closed the gate before the journalists could follow him through. Sandra noticed the sideways hourglass symbol emblazoned on the brown gate across both sides.

A closer, louder voice came from behind the camera then. “And here we have the local Monarch outpost.” 

Sandra felt her journalist’s brain come alive. These reporters asked all the right questions. They had been persistent. They chased a story. Whether she liked it or not she had become part of that story. She shuddered.

Ren watched the TV with interest. His wry smile came and went in an instant. “They’re uncertain,” he said. “Perfectly positioned at a tipping point.”

He looked back at Sandra, gears clearly turning in his head. “We need to make your footage public.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sandra asked. “After what happened I can’t just walk into a news office and show them what I filmed. It exposes me. It exposes us.”

“I don’t mean you go in personally,” Ren clarified. “We must find a way to spread your footage.”

“Dude, you know what I-we did. I can’t stay with y’all. Not after that.”

“You don’t have to,” Ren said, meeting her gaze. “But you must have a plan to deal with them if they come for you.”

That was when Sandra remembered what Ren had said about moving against Monarch’s best interests. Perhaps one of the agents had seen her. She had no idea what to do if they came knocking on her door. 

“What’s your plan?” she asked in a low voice. “They’ll look at you too.” 

“I know places,” he said in a steady tone. “Safe, low risk areas. And I have people who will take me there.”

Sandra felt herself shake as it occurred to her just how serious her situation could get. “Would they help me too?” she asked in a frightened half-whisper. 

“They would,” Ren said with a nod. “Let’s just say… These people are indebted to me. Obligated.”

“Obligated,” Sandra asked. She took quick and sharp breaths. “Okay, sounds good to me.” No matter what, she had to keep him close.

Ren gracefully stood up. He slid his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. “Let’s go get your camera.” 

Sandra stood and followed him out of the hospital. She knew she couldn’t leave Adversary, as they could later be the only thing between her and the authorities. On her own she wouldn’t last long. And getting arrested wasn’t the worst possibility. She remembered Henry McCarthy. In her mind’s eye she saw the leaders of Monarch in their dark room, pressing buttons and making phone calls to decide the fate of humanity. A wind became a cold knife that tickled her neck as she imagined the Monarch leaders giving the order to kill her. 

But Ren’s connections could take her somewhere safe, if he was to be believed. He could’ve been lying but she had to take the chance. It wasn’t like she had other options. She had gone too deep to back out now. They had become her people, the only people who could protect her. 

Ren led her to Romano’s truck. He reached into the flatbed and lifted her camera out. He handed it to her, a faithful look in his eyes. Sandra took it. She felt a lump in her throat as she played the first video she had recorded. 

As the harrowing events all too fresh in her mind played out again in front of her she skipped ahead to the second video. The video showed the smoke thin considerably. “And here you see, the Monarch team’s retreating from these dragonflies,” she heard herself say. She sounded awkward but it was fine. The camera turned away from exhausted and defeated Monarch soldiers to the dragonflies still swarming on the rocks below. She felt oddly good about what she had captured. Nestled in her journalistic element, a sort of detachment came over her as she analyzed that final bit of footage. She rewinded, seeing the camera linger on the defeated Monarch agents before swinging to view the monstrosities in hiding. 

The footage looked better than she remembered. The smoke cleared to show the juxtaposition, defeated Monarch agents on one side and the victorious monsters on the other. She had been the one to capture it clearly and objectively. Well, as objectively as she could manage. Any experienced photojournalist would surely be proud. It would be easy to show this off as Monarch’s most recent, and most pathetic, failure. 

“Hey, what about your smoke machine?” she asked Ren. 

“I wiped away the fingerprints. It can stay in the pit.”

Sandra nodded, remembering that he gently placed the thing in the monster pit with a small towel. If Monarch swiped it they would find no fingerprints.

She looked back at the hospital, thinking about Romano. The bullet could’ve hit her. It was only by sheer chance that it had hit him instead. Maybe next time she wouldn’t be so lucky. A shuddered sigh came from her lips. 

“I think we should go back home,” she suggested. “Back to the hotel.” 

Ren nodded. “I will give you a ride. Go get Martin and Erica. They are coming with us.”

“What about Victor?”

“He intends to go back to the pit with Walker. He needs to pick up his car.”

Sandra nodded in acknowledgement. Just then she heard the boots trod up to her and Ren. She turned to see Walker. 

“Hey, tell Vic I’m waitin’ at the bike.” he said. 

“I will.” Ren said.

Walker's face reminded her of the dead soldier's body. When she saw him she heard the gunshot and smelled the hot dust again. Yet the dude got to walk around with his tattoos as if he hadn’t just killed somebody today. And he still wouldn’t look at Sandra. Her gaze drifted down to his belt. She looked around the back of his pants. It was what she didn’t see that interested her. 

“No gun this time?” she asked. 

He paused. He tilted his head slightly upward and pressed his lips tight like he had been rudely interrupted. Then he looked at her as if she was something he’d scraped off his shoe. 

“Naw,” he said. “I ain’t bringing a gun to no hospital.” 

She held her camera tight as a reply came to her. “But you would bring a gun to shoot people during a job, am I right?” 

“I saved your damned life,” he growled. 

“Bullshit,” she retorted, trying to keep from raising her voice. “You're lucky I haven’t left y’all over that.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “Go back to your shitty apartment if you wanna.” 

Ren leaned against the truck and looked from him to her. Sandra responded to Walker’s stinging remark with a glare. She turned to go back inside the hospital, but paused when she realized what he had just said. 

“Apartment? You know where I live?”

“Yeah. Paid you a visit before Ben told you where our camp was.”

“You were spying on me?” she asked, bewildered. 

“‘Twas my job to snipe you if you ratted to the cops,” he said. “You leave, that ain’t changed.” With that he turned and walked away. He turned left and disappeared between two cars. 

Sandra turned and went back to the hospital. The next time she saw Victor she would rant about Walker. He’d listen to her rant whether he liked it or not. Before she could walk inside, the doors opened. Martin and Erica strode out together. Martin dipped his head to Sandra. 

“I dunno if Ren told you, but he’s giving us three a ride back to the hotel!” Erica announced. 

“Yeah, he told me. Where’s the car?” 

“Follow us!” Erica grinned. 

Sandra rolled her eyes and fell in behind Erica. Martin drew out his phone as all three of them crossed the parking lot. Sandra searched the place, looking for Ren’s car. She expected she’d find him leaning against it like a kickstand. 

“How’re you feeling after your first mission?” Erica asked her. Sandra abandoned her quick search to look at Erica.

“This is only our first?” 

“Well, maybe. Maybe not. Either way how do you feel?”

“Exhausted,” Sandra said. “Drained. Tired. In need of a hot shower. Man, that might not even cover it.”

“Yeah, me too!” Erica exclaimed. She talked some more, but Sandra’s attention was taken from her when the hospital doors opened again a hundred feet behind them. Victor walked out and went in a different direction into the parking lot. He quickly went out of view behind a row of cars. The thought of him going back to the gravel pit made Sandra feel sorry for him.

“By the way,” Erica broke in. “Ben needs to show you our ORCA.”

Sandra’s eyes widened. She suddenly forgot she was in a parking lot. She had no idea how Erica’s ramblings had taken her here, but it meant nothing.

“Hold on, hold on.” Sandra interrupted, taking a surprised step back. 

“Yes?” Erica asked.

“Ren-I mean, he has an ORCA? Like, the machine? A new one?”

Erica nodded. Her oblivious smile remained. “He calls it the ORCA Z. Ben wanted to tell you himself. But I figured, why wait?” 

She turned and kept walking. Martin followed her. Sandra stood still for a moment with her jaw still hanging, trying to process what she had just heard. Thoughts emerged in her mind of the firebird titan again. Its thunderous wing clap shook her bones. The smells of cheese and moth balls returned from that cellar so long ago. She snapped out of it, moving to get in front of Erica and block her way.

“Why the hell does he have an ORCA?” Sandra glared at her with incredulity. “How long have y’all known? Do you have any idea of the shit that could do? You know what that could do to us?”

Erica frowned. She shook her head in confusion. Sandra’s fingers tightened around the camera.

“It’s okay,” Martin said. “We’ve known for a long time.”

“No. No Martin,” Sandra exclaimed. “This is the opposite of okay. What else does Ren have tucked away, huh? A nuke? Any other destructive weapons I should know about? Ooh, what about that green bomb that hit the Gulf of Mexico? Do y’all have one of those too?”

“Look,” Erica said. “We don’t plan to use it.”

“Great, y’all just have an entire ORCA lying around.” They resumed walking. 

“We don’t even know if it works,” Martin said. 

“And that’s God’s honest truth.” Erica exclaimed. 

“Great, so it might malfunction on ya,” Sandra complained. “Who knows? Maybe it’s the reason those dragonfly things are coming outta the ground!”

“We haven’t even turned it on,” Martin clarified. “It’s not like Ben brought it to the gravel pit.”

Sandra didn’t respond. From behind them a car came down the parking lot. She recognized the sleek style and black color. Ren sat in the driver’s seat, looking indifferent as usual. They all looked back and instinctively moved to get out of the way. The car slowed down on its approach.

As Ren drove up beside them Sandra sternly said, “We’ll finish this later.” 

Erica and Martin both nodded as Ren slowed to a stop beside them. “Get in,” he said. 

Martin walked around the front of the car to sit beside Ren. Sandra opened the door before she and Erica slid into the back seats. She remembered this car all too well. Its scent flowed into her nose. She almost thought she smelled Ian’s wet dog smell. A lot had changed since she had last sat in this car. Except the urge to punch Ren. That had stayed about the same.

The car took off. She wondered where Vic was at this moment. Probably with Walker at the gravel pit. It occurred to Sandra that the location could have been dangerous to return to. Monarch could’ve sent people to lie in wait for Adversary to come back. Walker came to mind. As annoying as he was, he seemed cautious. If he even got a whiff of something sketchy he would pull out of the situation immediately. It did her no good to worry. Still…

“Hey, have Victor and Walker done this kind of thing before?”

“What kind of thing?” Martin asked. 

“Like, going to retrieve a thing from a dangerous place. Have they done it before?”

“Oh yeah,” Erica said. “They’ll be fine! They’re champions at this.”

Sandra nodded without a word. Victor would be back. He’d be okay. She’d be sitting in the room, she’d answer a knock at her door, and then she would see Victor’s round cheeks and nice smile on the other side. She took a moment to breathe. 

“Don’t worry,” Ren said as he entered a highway. “Walker will bring him back.” 

He reached for the radio and turned it on. It played some random song by Pixies. Martin immediately began jamming to it, wrenching his head back and forth to the beat. Sandra could care less for it. Yet as she looked around she noticed the situation she had entered. 

She rode in the backseat of a car with three people all around her. A giddy feeling began to take her as the car sped up. She hadn’t been in a car with friends like this in so long. She finally had people by her side to ride with. She had spent many nights wide awake, dreaming and wishing for a moment like this. And she finally had it. It had come. Sandra let the vibration lull her. She looked out the window, seeing buildings and trees alike shoot by. She turned back to Erica, smiling. A distant car horn cried out behind them.

“Not the best view,” Sandra said. “But it’s nice.”

Martin piped up. “Monarch won’t find anything? Anything at all?” 

Ren shook his head. “If anything was left behind there, Walker will clean it up. I don’t expect Monarch to send a team out to the gravel pit until tomorrow, at the earliest.” 

“I didn’t leave anything out there,” Sandra said before pointing at Erica. “You didn’t leave stuff out there, and you boys didn’t leave stuff out there either.” 

“Yeah. We’re good!” Erica said with a tireless relief. She was right. Monarch couldn’t trace what happened at the gravel pit back to Adversary. Sandra allowed her fingers to once again explore the camera, tracing its contours and crevices. She had the footage, and Abby could probably find a way to safely disseminate it. It had been settled. She’d stay in Adversary not just for protection, but to play her part in undermining Monarch. 

And then maybe, just maybe, she would get accepted into a news agency.

Thoughts of Ren’s ORCA device drifted into her mind again. She took a deep breath. It would be fine. It had to be. Ren wasn’t stupid enough to use it on the creatures at the gravel pit, so he probably wouldn’t use it anytime soon and put them all at risk. Still, the thing would have to be dealt with. She’d cross that bridge when she got to it. 

Erica once again interrupted her thoughts. “I’m surprised I didn’t ruin my new shoes in that pit.” She brought her foot toward her face, inspecting her shoes.

“What kind are they?” Sandra asked. 

“Under Armour,” she said. “See?” Erica bent to look at her shoe and saw the connected capital Us of the brand’s symbol. 

“Maybe I should get a pair.” Sandra remarked. She turned off her camera and sat back in her seat. She couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel. 

“Something else.” Ren stated. The car hit an unexpected bump. 

“What is it?” Martin asked. 

“Danny talked to me after we dropped Romano at the hospital,” Ren informed them. “At the outpost closest to here, Monarch is working with a new hypothesis. Some of the scientists and mythographers think the meganula are being controlled. Field agents are still skeptical.”

“Controlled?” Erica asked. “By whom?” 

Sandra began to feel uneasy, and when Erica looked at her she felt sure that Erica remembered the ORCA that Ren had. Sandra still wondered where and how he could have gotten it. She forgot about that when Ren spoke again. 

“They're controlled by a Titan they call Megaguirus,” he said. 

“Mega… what?” Sandra asked. 

“Mega… guy… rus?” Erica tried. 

“Yes,” Ren said. “They believe the meganula are the Titan's subordinates, like worker bees to their queen. And it could be hiding below the cave. In the Hollow Earth.”

Part of Sandra found it unbelievable. Monarch could’ve just made up this Titan as an excuse for getting their asses kicked by a bunch of dragonflies. Then she remembered Mark Russell on the hospital TV trying to dodge the reporters. If Monarch made it up as an excuse they’d waste no time making that excuse public. Yet they hadn’t made a peep about this new Titan. Ren paused at a red light.

“The mythographers found ancient art of Megaguirus,” Ren continued. “If it does exist it is similar to the meganula, but bigger.” 

“Titan sized,” Erica murmured, terrified. Her face had gone pale as muted October sunlight. “A demon of the abyss.” 

“There’s no way,” Sandra protested weakly. “No way.” 

But she knew there was a way. Ren looked back at her. He didn’t even have to say anything for Sandra to see the truth in his eyes. He believed Monarch. He believed this new Titan was out there, which meant it was probably true. Sandra wondered what kind of horror could control the deadly swarm that had almost killed everyone at the gravel pit. 

Ren turned back to the road. The light turned green. He drove forward, flowing down the street with the rest of the traffic. Sandra set her camera down between her legs as the rising tide of a new, yet not so new fear creeped on her. She knew Titans well enough to understand that being five miles from that cave wouldn’t be enough if the new beast decided to wake up. Even twenty miles wouldn’t be far enough. 

“It is all still in our favor,” Ren said. “Megaguirus only adds a new wrinkle. I have already accounted for it.”

Yep, a new wrinkle alright. Sandra thought. She said no more throughout the car ride. It was only when everybody, including her, went to their hotel rooms that she wondered what Ren meant exactly. She suspected that she wouldn’t like it.

Chapter 13: Blood On My Hands

Summary:

Sandra and Victor recover from the pain of the gravel pit. Sandra makes a decision and accepts the cost of it.

Little by little, Sandra got herself together inside the room. Fig Leaf Lodge had been a good choice of hotel for Ren to pick. She rented her own room since it was less expensive than sharing a room with someone else. The room was much larger than her own back in Portland. The woodwork reminded her of an elegant rustic cabin, an intentional resemblance.

She sat heavily on the bed, slowly calming down. The air conditioner murmured. She liked the quiet of the hotel, broken only by the faint thuds of people stepping about in the hallway. She got up and headed to the balcony. The sun remained high in the sky as she slid the door open and stepped out. Her hands came down gently on the smooth wood of the dark red balcony railing. She looked down on the quaint parking space. Kids raced about down there with youthful energy, crossing the curving road right in front of the lobby. Their laughter floated up to Sandra, reminding her that she dwelled in a good place.

Or at least, nearly good. She drew her phone from her pocket. Yet it stayed idle in her hand. The deep, dark hole in her belly showed no sign of reappearing, but it felt like something was missing. The laughter of the children drifted up, soft as cotton. She sighed, wanting to grab wine from the lobby. She turned away from the railing but didn’t go inside. A new noise had reached her ears.

She heard the stuttering repetitive growl of an engine. It started distant, then bulled its way closer. Sandra wondered if it was a motorbike. She hoped it was. The wine became forgotten as she turned back to the balcony. A thin cloud dampened the sun as the robust growl came closer and closer. Sandra whipped her eyes to the distant road behind a phalanx of trees. Yet she saw nothing. The sound of the asphalt being attacked drew nearer until the bike came into view. She hoped it was Walker’s.

The motorcycle flew by the trees and turned onto the road leading toward the hotel. It slowed down, entering the curve that would bring it right in front of the lodge. Sandra looked closely at it and saw Walker on it. A blue Jeep Patriot ambled onto the quiet street before fully coming into view. Upon seeing it she breathed a sigh of utter relief. Joy flooded every vein and nerve in her. She couldn’t wait to see Victor.

The motorcycle passed the lodge and rumbled to a halt in one of the parking stalls. The car passed the lodge and parked next to the motorcycle. Walker dismounted from his bike right before Victor left his car. They both made their way to the lobby, walking alongside each other but not together. Sandra watched them pass right underneath her. Inwardly she canceled her plans to get wine. She’d wait for Victor to come to her room.

She hadn’t brought a suitcase, but her trusty backpack had everything she needed. They wouldn’t be staying at this hotel for very long, anyway. She drew a water bottle from the bag and drank it. She opened her phone and shot a quick text to Victor. He could take as long as he wanted to respond.

But as the sun began going down, Sandra began to wonder about him. She opened her text messages to find that he had read her message but hadn’t responded.

“Come on, Vic.” she murmured. An idea came to her, a terrible but wonderful idea. She’d go and find him.

She promptly left her room. Only after locking the door did she realize she still wore her slippers. It didn’t matter. Her feet crept along the smooth tiles as large paintings loomed above her on the walls. She moved quietly, playing pretend that she acted as normal as a normal person could be. A pair of children ran down the hall in the opposite direction. They paid her no mind.

Sandra knew where Victor’s room was. She slowed down when she came upon the mahogany door. Voices came from the walls and through the door. Sandra pressed herself against the wall to listen. It sounded like quite a few people were inside. One of the voices had that southern twang to it. Walker’s.
“Nah man,” his voice retorted from inside. “I didn’t pay attention to them things. Jus’ blasted ‘em.”

“And you, Victor?” Ren said. So Victor was indeed in his room. He responded to Ren with something Sandra couldn’t catch.

“The meganulas,” Ren said. “Did you see what they did?”

“Yeah Ben,” Victor replied. “We all did.”

“I mean beside kill the soldiers,” Ren specified. “Did you see them when they didn’t attack?”

“Them things were always attackin’. ‘Till they backed off, anyway.”

“They stopped their attack when the soldiers hid in cars,” Ren told them. “Why?”

“Beats me.”

Sandra turned and went back to her room before someone saw her acting like a weirdo. She thought no more about their topic of conversation. To her, the gravel pit remained in the past. Ren and Victor could analyze it all they wanted. The only thing important to her about the gravel pit sat in her camera, waiting to be shared with the world.

She went into her room and got into the covers of her massive bed. Her eyes never realized it when sleep took them. Her inner eyes opened to a gravel field. Rocks in blinding sunlight covered the ground for miles. She stood alone in the still air. Sandra tried to move but found herself rooted to where she stood. Her legs wouldn’t do what she wanted, but she could raise her hands. And when she lifted them up she saw blood on her fingers. It ran down, thick and endless until the scarlet flooded both her palms.

Knocks on her door woke her. Her eyes snapped open and slowed her pounding heart. She instantly knew who it would be. Gathering herself, she made her way to the door. Glancing through the peephole, the face she saw made her smile. Victor brushed some hair off his forehead with his hand as he waited for her. She promptly opened the door.

“Hey.” he said.

“Hey yourself. Come in, dude.”

He came in and sat on her long and purple couch. She didn’t feel like sitting yet. She went to a small table to set her half full bottle down. She put her phone on the table as well.

“Just wondering, do you mind if I call you Sandy?” he asked.

She giggled. “Go ahead, dude.” She said easily. “You know, we should go down and get wine.”

“From where?”

“The lobby.”

“It has free wine?”

Sandra nodded. “For all the residents.”

“Well, Walker mentioned going down there. I’m not sure if-”

“You know what?” Sandra said, reconsidering. “Maybe we can get that wine later. I had an idea. Why don’t we expose the shit outta Monarch’s Interpersonal Division?”

“You mean the Flynn Grayer division?” he asked.

“Yeah! For all the murders and whatnot.”

Sandra didn’t see a world in which Monarch wasn't defunded because of all the shit Flynn did. Under the weight of his atrocities and the footage she captured at the gravel pit, Monarch would surely sink. Unfortunately, Victor shook his head. She felt herself deflate.

“It’s a good thing to do,” Victor assured. “But the only shred of evidence we have for it is circumstantial. Even Martin agrees.”

“And of all of us, that guy would do the most to expose Flynn.” Sandra sighed.

“It’s alright,” Victor said. “We’ve already made headway. We did what we came to this town to do.”

“You mean that shit at the gravel pit?” Sandra questioned. “Yeah, it worked. But look at what happened.”

“No one was supposed to die,” Victor said.

“But someone did,” Sandra lamented. “At our hands, too!”

Victor paused and closed his eyes. He looked like he tried not to shudder. “Let’s be fair to ourselves,” he said, opening his eyes. “We didn’t pull that trigger. Walker did.”

“True.” Sandra agreed.

“There is no blood on our hands,” Victor asserted. “Not yours. Not mine. And even if there was, he attacked us first.”

Sandra nodded, wanting to get off the subject. She looked toward the open sliding door of the balcony. The light of the sun continued to fade, turning the wooden railings a mix of red and purple. The little bit of Sisters that she could see out the window took on a different mood then. The sounds of children laughing had gone. Distant trees bowed in the wind. They were heads bowed at a grave. Seen from the hotel, Sisters seemed a town of the dead brooding over a recent tragedy. But it also brooded over the tragedies to come. She thought of the beast that lay in wait somewhere beneath the town.

“Vic,” she started. “Did you hear of what Monarch thinks is controlling the flying things?”

He nodded. “Megaguirus. Ben told me.”

“It’s under our feet,” Sandra lamented. “Big and mean enough to destroy this town. And if Ren does something stupid he’ll unleash it on us all.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at him in silence, wondering if he just played dumb. “Vic, did you know he has an ORCA? You know, the thing Monarch used to almost end the world?”

His stare became softer and more knowing. He gritted his teeth.

“You knew,” Sandra concluded. “Didn’t you?”

“I know it seems bad,” he started. “But he’s probably not gonna use it.”

“Oh really? Did he leave it in Portland? Hm?”

Victor gritted his teeth again. The excuses formed behind his eyes. She could already hear all the half-thought justifications.

“He brought it here,” Sandra said in a dismayed near-whisper. “He fucking brought it to Sisters. Jesus dude, what if he turns it on and it leads Monarch right to us?”

“That’s not gonna happen,” he said. Sandra scoffed. “Look, he won’t make the mistake of using it at all. He doesn’t plan to even turn it on.”

“Then why does he have it here?” Sandra asked. “He needs to destroy that thing.”

“I’ll bring it up with him.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t ask him,” Sandra proposed. She went to sit next to him. “Vic, we need to destroy that ORCA ourselves. You can figure out where Ren kept it. Then we find it and take it apart.”

Victor raised his voice. “No,” he stated. “I’m not betraying Ben’s trust, and neither should you. We’re not gonna do that.”

Sandra drew back a little. She moved her braid to one side with her hand. “Fine,” she said. “As if he wouldn’t think twice about screwing you over. Or me.”

“What? He wouldn’t do that.”

“Did he lie to you to bring you in?” she asked. “Cause he sure does a lot of that.”

“He didn’t,” Victor insisted. “And I need you to hear it. He won’t turn his back on any of us. Not me. Not you. Okay?”

“You’re his henchman and I’m a burden.”

“No you’re not,” Victor said. “You’re one of us. That’s not changing.”

“Maybe he won’t screw you over,” Sandra conceded. “But you really think your boy’s not gonna sell me out to save his own skin? Offer me up to Monarch as a peace offering or something?”

“What tells you that he’d do this? I’m genuinely asking.”

Sandra didn’t respond. Nothing in the world would convince him to not bat for Ren. She wondered what he had done for Victor. Probably something major.

“Just… Cool it, alright?” Victor said. “I’ll talk to Ben about the ORCA.”

“Do you really just not get it?” desperation seeped into her voice. “Talk isn’t enough. That’s a tool that could bring the Titan out of the ground. If you wanna do something about it, it’s gonna take more than a five minute convo with him.”

“Don’t suggest destroying it ourselves. I’m being serious here.”

She threw her hands up. “Fine, dude. But talking is useless.”

“Do you really think Ben would activate it? Even when he knows about Megaguirus?”

Sandra shrugged. “I dunno, Vic. No one suspected that the goddamn Director of Monarch might activate it. No one knew…”

She rubbed her fingers against her forehead. Her head dipped low as she thought hard about what to do. As long as her group had access to the new ORCA, they had the potential to be just as dangerous as Monarch. She couldn’t let them be dangerous. A sigh came from her chest. The thought of the dragonfly Titan’s possible rampage brought on the urge to bite her lip. Gnashing her teeth against the soft flesh always brought relief. She thought back to the cellar again. The black hole opened in her belly. The weight of it pinned her to the couch.

“Goddamn it.” she murmured.

“What?” Victor asked. “What’s up?”

She wondered if talking about it would ease the pain. She didn’t think it would, but here she went.

“I didn’t tell you how I lost my old friends,” she began. “We had a good thing going. Us against the world. We were in Ontario when it all happened.”

“When what happened?”

She turned her head to look at him, a slight frown on her face. “The Mass Awakening. We knew where to go before we even heard the sirens. I had this house. And I rented a room out to one of my girls. We all hid in the storm cellar, my cellar, next to the house. And while we hid, the firebird Titan flew over the house. We all survived but... it was all gone.”

“Everyone was alive?”

“Yep.” Sandra said. Her lip began to quiver. “But we were never the same after that. It was like, I gave them shelter. And it’s not like they owed me anything but… none of them reached out to me after that. I had to ask for everything. They helped me sort through the wreckage and find stuff I could salvage. But it was after that, dude. I was alone. I tried to get back on my feet after I lost my house. But no one wanted to help.”

“No one let you crash at their place?” Victor asked.

“Some of the guys did,” Sandra admitted. “But I always had to ask. They didn’t wanna give me other stuff, like money. Public transportation was fucked for a while after the Titans, but none of the others were willing to give me rides to my job. When I looked for a new home, none of them helped. Even when I asked them.”

“What happened to the girl who lived with you?”

“Her sister came, picked her up, and took her to another state. Don’t ask me where. I haven’t talked to her since.”

“Did any of their homes get destroyed?”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but no. None of their places were touched. Maybe that’s why they hung out without me. I spent years moving from place to place in Ontario. I’d open my Instagram and see them together, doing shit. Eating at restaurants, traveling, anything you can think of, they were doing it. They never talked about this stuff in the group chat we all had, so either they texted each other individually or they made a new group chat without me. They still do stuff together, by the way.”

“Do you talk to any of them?”

“Nope.”

“Then, how do you know they hang out?”

She made a small laugh. “I stalk their feed. Not all the time, but sometimes.”

Sandra fought back tears, levies about to burst from flooding. Victor nodded. He folded his lips, wrestling them together as if he wanted to say something.

“So,” Sandra continued, “That’s why the ORCA needs to go. And it’s not just me. There are millions more who had it worse. All because of one crazy lady. Because of the ORCA.”

“I’m sorry that happened.”

Sandra looked over at him, her eyes watering. She gave him a little smile.

“Hey,” Victor said, patting her shoulder with his big, gentle hand. “It's okay. You don’t have to be alone anymore. You’ve got us. Heck, even if you wanted to leave you’d still have me.”

Sandra narrowed her eyes. What was he trying to say?

“And I’m serious,” Victor continued. “You could leave Adversary if you wanted to. Ben will be cool with it. And I’m not gonna let Mitch do shit to you. We could still watch our show and everything.”

Sandra stood and reached for a tissue box on the table. She dried her eyes as discreetly as possible, then looked over toward the balcony. The sun hadn’t completely gone down yet. She still had time to catch the light. Almost by instinct she picked up her phone and swiped around until she reached Instagram. Victor continued talking even as she strode over to the sliding door.

“After Romano leaves the hospital you could come back with us to Portland,” he said. “And I could give you a ride to your apartment. Abby would still pirate Skyless Reality for us. It would be no issue for her. We could still find a way to spread the footage that you have, if you still want that.”

His eyes followed her out onto the balcony. As he said some more things Sandra looked over the trees and saw the mountains in the distance. Two peaks loomed, one half visible behind the other. The mountain in the back wore a thin white wisp of a cloud. Sandra raised her phone and spun around slowly. She clicked the selfie function. Her face looked slightly weathered on camera but it didn’t matter. She’d edit the picture. She gave a leisurely grin and maneuvered the camera to get the mountains right beside her face. She snapped the picture.

A warm wind came, caressing her shoulders and legs. Sandra raised her phone above her head, showing her as she stood above the curving road below. The people and their cars looked insignificant compared to her mountains. She held the phone skyward, waiting a few seconds before snapping the perfect photo. She lowered it and checked the photo. It wasn’t good enough, so she smoothed her hair down, raised the phone again and took another selfie from above. Checking it, she found it to be perfect.

She immediately tapped to edit the photo. As she did so the mountains caught her eye again.

“Vic!” she called. “You gotta come see this.”

She listened to his footsteps as they came close. He came up alongside her. “Whoa,” he stared at the mountains and the humble trees below the peaks.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he breathed.

“Neither have I.” Sandra watched the sun continue to set, burning the horizon in its muted flame. Some of the light bathed the trees a dappled orange.

A wide smile came on her then, growing stronger as she realized exactly where she was. She let out a joyous laugh. Her days languishing in her apartment as a substitute teacher were over. The next chapter in her life had truly begun. The path here had been terrifying. She’d never forget having to fight for her life at the gravel pit. But now she stood at the top of the world with her new friends. Adversary had brought her to this hotel. They had brought her to this view. They had elevated her.

She felt alive, not just breathing, but alive. It had been years since she had felt that way. It had all been worth it. Sure, what she had done was illegal. But it was worth it to be where she stood right now.

Her eyes fell on Victor. “You think you about to tell me to leave?” she asked.

“Uh, I’m not telling you to do anything. I just want you to know you have choices.”

“I’m staying,” she stated. “I need Adversary’s protection anyway.”

She walked back into her room. Victor followed her and closed the sliding door. She thought about all the possibilities with Adversary in the future. Maybe Ren knew someone who owned a yacht. Maybe they could travel to other parts of the country. Maybe they could travel internationally. She imagined posting videos of herself with Adversary on a speedboat. She was sure her old crew would see those videos. They’d probably wonder who these people were that she had replaced them with.

Sure, Adversary had its problems. The ORCA came to mind. But she would deal with the device even if Victor didn’t help her. She’d find a way.

“I’m definitely staying.”

“Okay, that’s cool.”

“Do me a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Let’s keep the ORCA convo between us, alright?”

“Sure thing, Sandy.”

She turned and sat on the couch with a bounce. Sweat formed on her fingers but she gripped her phone case tight. She added a location tag to both pictures and posted them. A giddiness overtook her. So many people would see her. She couldn’t wait for them to.

Victor came behind the couch. He hovered over her, looking at her screen. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to post those pictures,” he said. “Ben said we have to leave no trace. Remember?”

Sandra sighed. “Dude, you think old man Russell is searching my Instagram posts? Please.”

She looked up at him. Concern filled his face. Sandra found it somehow comforting. She clicked her phone to sleep and rose to her knees on the purple couch to reach his standing height.

“Look,” she assured him. “We left nothing at that pit. There’s nothing for Monarch to find. We’re okay.”

That finally brought a half smile to his face. He looked down in what almost looked like shame. “You know, I never thanked you. For what you did at the pit.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’d do it again." She nearly blinked in surprise at what came out of her mouth. But it was too late to take it back. "Wow, that scares the shit outta me to say. But I’d do it again. I’d kill for this group, honestly.”

Victor didn’t respond, only staring at her with a baffled look in his eyes. Sandra forced a laugh, trying to dispel the awkward moment. She hoped she did not frighten him just now. He avoided her eyes, seemingly stunned silent.

She shook her head. “You know what? Forget it.”

She sank to the couch and drifted back to happy thoughts. Romano would recover from his bullet wound. Then they’d go back to Portland as successful as they could’ve hoped to be. She’d introduce Ian to the group and finally watch her show with Victor. Everything would be better than before.

Chapter 14: Outpost 20

Summary:

As Monarch debriefs on the recent fiasco, Guillerman offers an aggressive solution, and Mark comes clean to his daughter.

Outpost 20 turned out to be smaller than Mark thought. He sat at the large table with his laptop open in front of him. The director wanted a conference call today. He wouldn’t make it to Sisters yet. Mark expected the call in an hour or so. The door to the room opened and he waved Riley in.

Mark held the small stack of photos in one hand and a single photo in the other. In the photo, a terrible bug-like thing lay spread out on the rocks, ripped open by bullets. Riley stood behind him, looking at the pictures over his shoulder. He cracked his knuckles as he hovered over Mark.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Same creatures from seven years ago?”

Mark’s eyes traced the rough, burned texture of the bug. He looked at the ugly spines on the legs. He nodded. “Oh yeah. They’re the same. They’re meganula.”

But this wasn’t exactly new. This was only the confirmation that the problem creatures were indeed the meganula from seven years ago. In the time that G-Team embarked on their mission to kill the meganula swarm at the gravel pit, additional attacks on people and animals had been reported. Mark sighed once he recalled the other problem they faced.

The door swung open with a short creaking sound. Stanton and Ilene Chen came in. They walked past a vertical window to sit at the table in front of Mark.

“Foster and the rest of ‘em are coming,” Stanton informed him. “And they’re not happy.”

Mark could hardly blame them if they were angry. They had every right, even if they blamed him. The door opened again and Sam Coleman walked in, leading Colonel Foster and Barnes into the room. Riley sat down next to Mark. Sam came to sit on his right. The light beams above glowed as strong as the resolve on Foster’s face. The two soldiers sat in front of him next to Stanton.

Riley spoke first. “We’re sorry for what happened to your men.” He shook his head in sorrow.

Mark went next, “The victims’ families have been compensated.”

Barnes folded his hands and bent his head low, shaking it slowly. Foster didn’t visibly react. “What questions do you have for us?” she asked.

So, right down to brass tacks then. He cleared his throat. “The creatures that you went after, how many would you say there were? Ballpark number?”

“Dozens,” Foster said. “At least. Maybe more. We didn’t get them all, not even close.”

“What did they do when you retreated?” Mark asked.

“Excuse me?”

“When you retreated,” he said. “Did they chase you off scene? Did they leave the pit before you?”

“It was hard to tell because of the smoke,” Barnes said. “But Griff saw ‘em swarming at the bottom of the pit. Don’t know why.”

Mark wondered about this. He had heard that from four other soldiers. Perhaps the smoke had a calming effect on the meganula. Maybe that was how they reacted when they became overwhelmed by something. He could only guess.

Barnes lifted a finger to scratch his hair. “We kicked ass out there, but we also had to hide inside the cars laying around. When we did, bugs completely lost interest.”

“Well that makes sense,” Riley said. “They couldn’t get in at you so they stopped attacking.”

But Mark wasn’t so sure it was that simple. The meganula didn’t strike him as the type to give up once prey had gotten out of reach.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Literally the second we shut the door,” Barnes said. “The damned things literally stopped. If I didn’t know better I’d say they straight up forgot we were there.”

Mark nodded. Then something began ticking in his mind. Scent. He hadn’t known these things to attack people inside buildings or cars. He only ever heard stories of people being attacked outside in open air. Maybe, just maybe, the meganula lost their target’s scent after the target in question went into hiding. He supposed metal confused them. Or maybe metal hid smells really well. Whatever the case, it was something to file away.

“So,” Stanton said. “You think Sisters will put this on a brochure? There’s a distinct possibility a giant bug monster might eat you?”

Mark hadn’t thought before about how the meganula invasion might hurt the tourism in the town. This was a small town. Word got around fast. According to their man, David Everett, people even had an idea where the meganula came from. People who visited from outside the town would learn about the problem quickly.

“The thing is,” Stanton started again. “I know for a fact that Sisters depends on its tourism. If it tanks because of the uh, meganula issue, that’s gonna reflect back on us.”

Mark had wrestled with these thoughts for a while. If Monarch couldn’t do anything about this problem, they would be blamed for what happened to Sisters. If its financial situation went up in flames it would mean higher taxes, fewer police, and fewer firefighters. All of it would mean more blame on Monarch. And God knew they already had enough of that going on.

And this had been the case before he began suspecting that a MUTO had sent the ravenous creatures. Now he had actual evidence a MUTO had, at the very least, made itself involved. The monitors here had detected a foreign signal from deep underground, below the Three Sisters mountains. More tests had to be done to be sure exactly how the meganula responded to the foreign acoustics, but he didn’t like where the evidence pointed.

He thought about the engineers he had sent to their deaths at Devil’s Cave. G-Team hadn’t even had time to get to the cave before the meganula swarmed them. Despite the carnage, he had to admit it could have been so much worse. The MUTO actually emerging would be the worst case scenario. The engineers’ deaths were on him so he was damned sure he’d be part of the solution this time. They needed to act. The first order of business was to know their enemy.

The meganula came from a place beneath the cave. He remained sure that the place would be their den site. Perhaps their MUTO was in there. They needed eyes inside. He looked at Sam, then at Riley. Might as well say the idea out loud.

“We need to get into that cave,” Mark said. “Into the place these things are coming from.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Stanton asked. “It’s too dangerous to send anyone into that hole.”

Mark nodded. He hadn’t thought that far yet. And he wasn’t willing to sacrifice anyone to get this job done. That had happened enough. Beside him, Sam coughed. It sounded like an awkward cough. As if he had thought of something but held it back.

“What is it?” he asked Sam.

“Speak your mind,” said Barnes.

“Well,” Sam began. “We do have drones. Not here, but we can get them here. Probably.”

That got Mark’s gears turning. But before he could reply, his laptop came to sudden life. It glowed as a window appeared on his screen with a small picture of Guillerman in the middle. He was calling in. Mark clicked and answered it. Director Guillerman’s face popped up, large on the screen. Displays and chairs sat behind him.

“Are you on your way?” Mark asked.

“I am,” Guillerman responded. “But we must debrief on this now.”

He and Guillerman had helped each other during the last incident. Most at Monarch believed he filled the shoes of Ishiro Serizawa well, but outside of Monarch he received blame for the disastrous events that transpired from their previous venture into the Hollow Earth. Mark had received a hefty share of the blame as well. Both of them had responded with a generous donation to the Tasman Sea memorial before using other moves to improve their PR. Overall, Guillerman showed a good understanding of the politics of the past big incidents. He’d probably understand the politics of their present situation as well.

“Is it true that the attacks have increased in frequency?” he asked.

Mark shook his head. “No. But there are more sightings. More of them are out and about. Did you receive the acoustic signature?”

“I have. I trust your eye with the signal.”

“We’re still working on getting a radiation signature, but it doesn’t look good.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’ve gotten calls from Senator Roberts again.”

“Lemme guess,” Mark said. “Bigger concerns?”

“He wants assurances. And we need to give him assurances. If this situation doesn’t get contained soon we all know where it goes next.”

Mark nodded. The state government had been pressuring Monarch over their meganula issue for a while now. And if that kept up, things would only get worse. He knew that plenty of voices in the federal government still called for the execution of the Titans. A long time ago he had agreed with those voices so he knew how fast they’d spring up and how uncompromising they’d be if Monarch wasn’t trusted to deal with the creatures.

“I’ve talked to some who want us to give full disclosure to the public.” Guillerman said.

Mark shook his head. “Not yet. We need to find out more about the new MUTO.”

“We’ll need to find out ASAP,” Guillerman replied. “If the meganulas keep coming aboveground, or worse, whatever’s sending them comes aboveground, we’ll be held responsible.”

“I say we send a drone or two down there,” Mark said. “Safest way to get eyes into its den. Safest way to find out about the creature.”

Guillerman tilted his head back in thought. “That makes sense. Well, don’t wait for me. Get those drones sent over to you.”

“Will do.” Mark said.

“I’ll get right on those drones,” Sam said. He pulled out his cellphone. “Don’t you worry.”

Mark looked up at the vertical window. Someone stood there, lurking like a shadow. He recognized the man as Dan Olsen. He was newer than everyone in the room with him. If he remembered correctly, he had come to Monarch only a year ago. Which meant he didn’t have the security clearance to overhear this conversation. And Mark was pretty sure the walls of the facility weren’t soundproof.

“Riley, look.” Mark tilted his head in the direction of the window. “He might be able to hear us.”

Riley showed he understood with his subtle expression of disapproval. He gave an easy nod to Mark. “I’ll tell him to get some Jell-O.” Riley got up and went to the door. Mark didn’t watch the man further. He knew Riley would take care of it.

“So,” Barnes started. “How ‘bout that other thing?” Guillerman stayed silent and listened.

“We were attacked,” Foster said. “And not by the creatures. Terrorists. Terrorists who waited for us to land before they ambushed us.”

Mark suppressed a sigh. The incident at the gravel pit was a sobering reminder that there were people out there, evil people, who would act against Monarch. He had become all too familiar with types like these.

“Did you see who they were?” he asked. “Even get a glimpse of them?”

Barnes shook his head. “A couple of us saw their cars drive off.”

“We couldn’t see the makes or models,” Foster said. “They fled before most of us knew they were there.”

“Most of you?”

“We found one of our men,” Foster clarified. “Daniel Kudo. He was beaten and shot to death.”

“We took him off-site,” said Barnes. He shook his head in sorrow. “Funeral’s gonna have to be closed casket.”

“Four of our people were killed by the creatures,” Foster said. “We couldn’t retrieve them.”

“A smoke device had went off before all hell broke loose.” Barnes said.

“Our entire unit knows it was planted.” Foster asserted.

Mark already began making a mental profile of their attackers. They seemed smart and stealthy. They’d probably be smart enough to cover their tracks. But maybe…

“What do you think about going out there?” Mark asked. “To see what you can find.”

“We were actually gonna ask to do that.” Barnes said. Foster only nodded. Her eyes remained hard. Determined.

Barnes went on. “We’ll find what we can. The rest of G-Team, they’re out for blood. Martinez says he wants to meet whoever did this.”

“Specifically look for anything they left behind,” Mark instructed. “Any cars, guns, or what-have-you. Find the smoke machine too.”

“Anyone think this was our good friend Jonah?” Stanton suggested.

Mark shook his head. “I doubt it.” He’d never forget the character of Alan Jonah’s group. He remembered Maddie and Emma getting caught in the fierce firefight. And that had only been right before Emma pushed the button to end the world. If Jonah had returned, he’d be much less shy about it. Everyone here would know it was him. And there would be many more deaths.

“Jonah would have come in guns blazing,” Mark asserted. “This wasn’t him.”

“We know there are others out there,” Foster said. “Phoenix, Red Bamboo, and plenty more where they came from.”

“I’d be surprised if any of them were on our ass.” Barnes said.

Riley came back. “Any idea why we were attacked at all?”

“Maybe they wanted a piece of the meganula,” Stanton said. “I bet a couple legs from ‘em would sell really well on the black market.”

This possibility seemed likely to Mark. They had to consider all their options, so he thought back to the Titan-trafficking group that captured Na Kika a couple years back. But they had violently taken over an oil rig. They had been bold. This mystery group was more covert.
He recalled Phoenix. Little was known about them, but that faction in particular had infiltrated Monarch in 1995 to gain access to Skull Island. They seemed sneaky enough to be the mystery group. If they wanted to capture meganula specimens, then the gravel pit attack seemed right up their alley.

“Speaking of which,” Guillerman spoke from the laptop. “I have called in the Interpersonal Division to help us.”

“Huh, okay.” Barnes replied.

But Mark didn’t feel so sure about this. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, feeling a trickle of unease. He knew what that division was all about. Bringing them into play stood a chance of massively complicating everything.

“It’s the best we have.” Guillerman said.

“Grayer?” Coleman asked. “Does he mean… Director Grayer?” Mark didn’t miss the hint of fear that had entered his voice. He noticed the eyes of Ilene and Rick flinch ever so slightly.

Mark gritted his teeth. He almost pointed out that the Interpersonal Division had been called in to deal with Titan traffickers during Na Kika’s capture, yet they didn’t do much before Godzilla intervened. But he didn’t bother with the half-measured excuse. It wasn’t the real reason he wanted that division as far away from this situation as possible.

“This is Flynn Grayer we’re talking about,” Mark said. “Pardon my language, but he’s a monster.”
That name, and the silence that followed, lingered for a few moments like a dead echo in a ghostly house.

Guillerman was, above all else, pragmatic. According to him emotion had no place in this business. A reminder of the many lives ended or ruined by the Interpersonal Division wouldn’t convince the director of anything. A reminder of the disdain Serizawa and Graham had for Grayer’s methods wouldn’t sway Guillerman either. But maybe, if Mark focused on Monarch’s reputation, that would make sense to him.

“I know what he is.” Guillerman admitted.

“So you know he’s a walking PR disaster,” Mark said. “That’s bad enough without the creatures to deal with.”

“We rehired him for this very reason.”

“He shouldn’t have been rehired in the first place,” Mark said. “Think about what could happen if he goes too far this time. You know what that does to our reputation.”

“We must watch him closely,” Guillerman said. “His plans must be approved by us, every detail of them. And we must be notified of any changes he makes to those plans.”

“There’s gotta be another way.” Mark said.

“Any other way puts too much risk on us,” Guillerman said dispassionately. “We both know how skilled Director Grayer is at dealing with groups like the one in Sisters. More importantly, if he takes care of this group, it will send a message.”

He understood. If Grayer apprehended this group it would serve as Monarch’s very own intimidation display. Every other terrorist group would know not to act out lest they be next. Of course, Grayer would have to capture them publicly and efficiently for it to work out that way.

“I understand your qualms, Dr. Russell. But let’s face it. If we had not downsized the Interpersonal Division at all, Alan Jonah would have never gained access to Monster Zero.”

Feeling defeated, he had no response for Guillerman. His director was correct. So many people would be alive if Grayer had been kept in Monarch. Millions of them, in fact. With that in mind, Monarch had every justification to bring him in. After all, the terrorists had struck first. He knew Grayer would strike next and destroy them. He didn’t have to like it. But he had to accept it.

“When’s he coming?” he asked.

“He says he’ll be here in four days.”

“Sounds good to me, then.”

“Have a good day, Dr. Russell.”

Mark nodded, put on a half hearted smile, then ended the call. “This meeting’s adjourned,” he told the others. With that they all rose from their chairs.

“They could only spare two drones at the moment.” Coleman told him. Mark nodded his acknowledgement. As everyone departed the room he folded his laptop. Taking a deep breath, he left the room and turned off the light. The next conversation wouldn’t be any easier.

It was time to see Maddie.

He ascended the stairs. Her room awaited him up here, quiet and appealing. He hoped she didn’t get too used to it. They wouldn’t be at this outpost for long. He went down the short hallway and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” the half muffled voice yelled from inside.

When he walked in she sat at a desk with her headphones in. She looked up reluctantly, as if he had interrupted something she’d been doing. Most likely he had.

“Homework?” he asked.

“Dad, school’s out. Of course I’m not doing homework.” Her voice caught him off guard. It sounded thick and weathered with age. It served as a reminder. He had imagined coming to talk to her as a little girl, but she was a whopping seventeen now. She grew so fast his brain could hardly keep up with it.

“Sure,” he said. He closed the door and walked further into the room. She reached up and pulled her headphones out. As she turned to him her shoulders relaxed. Curiosity danced in her face.

“So, any updates on the MUTO?” Maddie’s eyes were on him, wide with curiosity. He saw excitement there, too. “I’ve heard it’s for sure bigger than Mothra."

“We’re still trying to isolate a radiation signature.” He didn’t feel too enthused about her attitude toward the creature. An undocumented MUTO being underneath Sisters was a problem, not a fun or cool feature in the town.

“It’s actually controlling the meganulas, right?”

“We don’t know for sure. We still need to test how they react to her vocal signals.”

“Her? So you know that she’s a female?”

He sighed. This wasn’t what he came here for. “We don’t know anything. Look, Monarch has other issues. Serious issues.”

Madison faced slightly away from him. “Yeah. I heard. G-Team was attacked.”

He paused, noticing a slight discomforting drop in her tone. “The people who attacked us,” he started. “We have no idea who they are. But the director has called in the Interpersonal Division to deal with them.”

Madison looked into his eyes again. This time her eyes projected the light of certainty. She gave a knowing stare, a gaze filled with sureness that made her look older than she was. Something in him trembled. She knew. She knew all about Grayer and his history. Of course she did. He could only imagine who she had talked to about this. It couldn’t have been easy. Prying information about that man out of anyone would have been no different from trying to open a cursed grave in the darkest cemetery.

“Flynn Grayer?” she said.

He nodded. “Yeah. What do you know about him?”

But she didn’t answer his question. “He got fired for a reason, Dad. You can’t be serious. You’re bringing them to this outpost?”

“Maddie, it wasn’t my idea. You’ve gotta understand that.”

“The director, right? But you’re almost a director. Just tell him no.”

“It’s way more complicated than that.”

“It’s not. What could Grayer do for Monarch that G-Team couldn’t?”

“G-Team is better suited for rescue and defense. The Interpersonal Division is good at actually catching the really bad people.”

“They are the bad people. How can’t you see that?”

He didn’t need Madison to tell him the things the Interpersonal Division had done. They had disappeared innocent people and kidnapped others. No tactics were too cruel or extreme for them. He knew for a fact that people connected to actual war crimes worked within the division. But he had to stand by Guillerman’s decision, not just to his daughter but to the rest of Monarch.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I talked to Guillerman about it. We’re planning to watch him closely. Things are gonna be different this time. I promise.”

“Whatever,” she said. But she didn’t turn back to her table or phone. “Why didn’t you tell me about Grayer? They killed people. They tortured people. But you rehired him and didn’t say a word.”

That question. The one he’d been dreading. It took the wind out of his sails. He had planned to tell her, he really had. But he had always put it off. It had been easy to put it off given how little anyone talked about him. As far as he knew, Grayer’s name and infamous division never floated down the halls or tunnels of Castle Bravo. Now he knew he should’ve told her about Grayer long ago. She should’ve heard about it from him, not from the half-whispers of his colleagues.

“I should’ve told you,” he admitted. “But the truth is… The truth is that I didn’t want you to see Monarch that way.”

Mark was sincere about that. During Madison’s time with Jonah she had been forced to witness multiple murders and violent takeovers. She had seen some of the worst things mankind had to offer, so he had wanted Monarch to feel like a safe place that would shield her from those things. He had thought he was protecting her by keeping the rotten side of Monarch from her. It didn’t seem fair for her to walk around knowing her father was in league with murderers. No kid should have to carry that burden.

“Mom never told me anything about them either. Why?”

He hadn’t thought about that. “If I were to guess, she didn’t want to ruin your image of Monarch either.” It made an appalling amount of sense. From what Madison had told him, Emma had fed her a sanitized version of her plans with Jonah. She had thought that a Titan reclamation would be mostly peaceful, with minimal death or destruction. But Emma had to have known better.

She must have thought she was protecting Madison by hiding the truth of the situation from her. But she hadn’t protected her. She had set her up for disturbing and traumatic realizations. She had forced her to find out the hard way. And in the years after Emma’s Folly, he had done the same thing.
Without another word she turned in her chair back to the desk and put in her headphones. She had her fill of the conversation. He looked wordlessly to the door. The only sound was the groan of the air conditioning and its temperate indoor winds. Still locked in his thoughts, Mark headed out of her room.

Chapter 15: Needle in a Haystack

Summary:

Flynn Grayer arrives, investigating multiple clues to try and find Monarch's enemies.

Mark stood outside the doors, breathing the fresh morning air. The smells inside Outpost 20 had become stale to him. Down at the entrance the reporters would be knocking on the gates, ravenous to get at him.

But they merely tried to do their job. As he should’ve been doing his. He took a deep breath, turned around, and opened the door to go back inside. It had been three days since he told Guillerman about his plans to send drones into Devil’s Cave. He almost chuckled at the name. Rather fitting.

He walked up the narrow stairwell, remembering the radiation signature of the MUTO under Sisters. Megaguirus. He had managed to isolate the acoustic signals from it too. From what he and Riley could tell the creature was in a state of semi-stasis. However numerous much smaller acoustic signatures surrounded the MUTO. To his dismay, his theory had become a lot more plausible.

Mark headed slowly into his room. He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop before turning it on. The enormous radiation signature faced him from the brightened screen. Seeing the digital orange mass in the sea of green always sent his mind to whirling, and this time was no exception. A knock came to his door.

“Mark!” Riley called from outside.

“On my way,” Mark said back. He got to his feet and headed to the door. Opening it he invited Riley in.

“Madison is still in bed,” Riley said. “She wouldn’t answer when I knocked on her door.”

“Oh, she’s definitely in bed.” Mark said. “But it doesn’t mean she’s asleep.”

Riley chuckled. “Anything new?”

Maddie being in bed but not asleep reminded him of their MUTO. “Something jumped out at me,” Mark said. “This creature, this Megaguirus, hasn't set foot out of its nest. Why?”

As they walked to his open laptop Riley shrugged. “We can only guess. If we go by your alpha theory, then she should be awake and patrolling. A bit like Ghidorah and Godzilla.”

“Godzilla has his moments of dormancy,” Mark said. “But this creature hasn’t gone dormant. It hasn’t been fully active either. Only its henchmen have been.”

“Maybe she’s feeding,” Riley said. “Her meganula bring food to her. They’ve done it on a regular basis thus far.”

That set his mind to another idea. “It might not be an alpha in the same way Godzilla is,” he said. That made sense. He had instinctively thought of Megaguirus as an analogue to alpha wolves. But maybe that was the wrong angle.

“They bring food to her,” Mark said. “Same way termites and ants bring food to their queen. But the queen is dependent on them. It can’t forage for itself. Its only role in the colony is to reproduce. Maybe the same goes for our MUTO.”

“It would make sense,” Riley said. “She stays half awake to eat the food her meganula give her. But she doesn’t do much other than lay eggs.”

Mark nodded. Megaguirus constantly reproducing would explain the worrying pattern he had picked up from the attack reports. The oldest sightings and attack reports had been in the Three Sisters Mountains. Over the following few weeks the attacks and human disappearances occurred farther and farther from the mountains. Some sightings had even taken place in the nearby towns. No new reports of attacks on people had come in for a while, but there had been reports of meganula attacks on deer and other wildlife. The thing was, these new reports had come out from as far south as Mt. Shasta. Unless there was another meganula colony down in California, this meant they were spreading from their origin point. That would only happen if their population steadily grew.

So on one hand, it looked as if Megaguirus wouldn’t physically tear the town to shreds. On the other, it looked like the creature proliferated unchecked. He found it hard to tell if this made the situation better or worse.

“Still,” Mark said. “We’ll need the drones to verify any of this.”

“Right. So, Guillerman has arrived-”

“He’s here? And you waited until now to tell me?”

“He didn’t want you to rush. He said come to the conference room when you can.”

“Well,” Mark said. “We ought to go now.” he closed his laptop and turned it off before leading Riley out of the room.

But as they stepped into the hallway light a noise came from the nearest speaker. Music. He paused, staring up. He looked at Riley. The man shared the same perplexed expression.

“Is that… classical?” Riley asked.

It was. Mark nodded before continuing down the hallway with his colleague. As they strode through the outpost halls the music continued. It wasn’t just a single speaker that authored the songs. The rhythms ran through the entire facility, swelling like a high pressure hose. Perhaps Guillerman was the one who wanted to play the music. He wondered what Madison thought of classical music. She probably wouldn’t like it.

The pair hurried down a stairwell and entered the wide lounge. Mark narrowed his eyes in confusion once he noticed the soldiers standing and sitting at the couches. They wore mud brown long sleeved shirts and dark combat pants unlike anything the G-Team soldiers had. A wide silver patch adorned each shoulder. None of them wore helmets. Only two of them bothered to look at him or Riley. All Mark could tell was that they were paramilitary.

“Who are they?”

“Beats me.”

Then he saw Chen and Stanton standing beside the conference room. They cast glances about. For some reason he picked up a feather-touch of unease from them. When Chen smiled at him there was something in it that seemed a little… Worried? Knowing? Stanton in particular kept an eye on the paramilitary soldiers. The smooth notes of the classical music continued from the speakers. The invisible piano played a melancholy tune.

Before he could ask what troubled them, he heard Guillerman’s voice from behind.

“Good morning Dr. Russell.”

Mark turned around to see him march down the hall. “Morning, Director. Nice to see you.”

“To you as well.”

"Was the music your idea?"

Guillerman shook his head. He looked just as confused as Mark.

“Lemme get that for you.” Mark stepped over to the conference room door. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of another man.
The unseen flutes seemed to grow slightly louder over the speakers as he and Guillerman turned to see his approach.

Mark had seen pictures of him. But even if he hadn’t the man set himself apart from everyone else in every conceivable way. As Mark held the door open for Guillerman he saw Flynn Grayer come into the lounge. While the classical music pulsed through the facility he strode on with his head held high like a great peacock of a man. His slender and delicate fingers tugged smoothly at the ends of his silvery almost shiny suit. As he drew closer, his pale face stretched into a smile, glistening white teeth and all. His eyes, big and expressive, crawled over Chen before focusing on Mark.

He paused before taking a deep breath. “Ah, Chopin sounds splendid in the morning, doesn’t he?”

“Good morning, Mr. Grayer.” Guillerman said. Then he stepped inside the conference room.

“Good morning.” Mark said. He still held the door open for him to come in. Grayer beamed at him, then stepped inside. The music billowed in his ears as Grayer slid into his seat. He turned to Stanton, ready to put an end to Grayer’s musical introduction.

“Take care of that.” he pointed up in the direction of the nearest speaker.

“On it.” Stanton said. He hurried away, clearly glad to be away from their new arrival.

Mark dismissed Chen and went inside. Guillerman and Grayer sat on opposite sides of the long table. Mark stepped over to sit next to Guillerman. He decided he would start but Grayer beat him to it.

“I must say, you’ve kept this outpost in shape.”

“You’re early.”

“Fashionably,” Grayer said. “I suppose you noticed my men.” He slid his chair to the side and held his hand out to the group of soldiers hanging around in the lounge outside.

“We have.” Guillerman said.

“Don’t even worry. It’s gonna be like they’re not even here,” the smile never left him. “I’ll make sure they’re in order. I have a good head for faces.”

“Let’s get down to brass tacks,” Mark said. The classical music went silent. He reminded Grayer of the attack on G-Team at the gravel pit.

“I’m aware,” Grayer responded. “I wanted to weep when I heard. Those brave men and women deserved better.”

“Any opinions on who it might be?” Mark asked. “Could it be an offshoot of Jonah’s group?”

Grayer drummed his hands on the table and sat up. “Well, we don’t have too many clues. But from what we do have, I can tell you it’s got nothing to do with Jonah.”

“Why not?”

“Well, from the nature of the attack it seems this group isn’t even established.”

“So, what?” Guillerman asked. “Do you think they’re new?”

“These guys sound like amateurs, if you ask me.” Grayer said. “Let me make sure I have it straight. G-Team didn’t see them until the smoke machine went off, a firefight broke out, then for some reason they beat one of your guys with a blunt instrument before shooting him and running away. That’s what happened?” Grayer raised his eyebrows. Questioning wrinkles rose on the visible side of his forehead.

“You’ve got it right.” Mark said.

“Okay,” Grayer said. “They were armed with guns, so if they wanted to kill your guy they could’ve just shot him. Beating him up first seems like overkill.”

Grayer leaned forward. His smile deepened and his eyes grew big and excited. “Unless… This group got spooked. These goons tried to be stealthy, but maybe your unlucky guy cornered one of them. Then they got sloppy.”

Mark found himself amazed by Grayer’s deduction. And that frustrated him.

Guillerman folded his hands. “Do you think the smoke machine was planted at the site?”

Smiling, Grayer scoffed. “Yeah. Absolutely. Speaking of the gravel pit, I’ve already sent a team out there. You know, to scour the site.”

“I already sent G-Team there,” Mark said. “They found nothing useful. They collected the smoke machine, but it had no fingerprints. These people cover their tracks well.”

“I’m impressed, Dr. Russell. It couldn’t have been easy for them to pluck that device out of the mess of creatures. Speaking of them, where’s Colonel Foster? She ought to be here.”

“She’s busy.” Guillerman said.

A couple of rapid knocks came to the conference door. It opened and a man in a suit and tie strode in. In one arm he carried a thin laptop. In his other hand he had multiple thin polaroid photos. He had to be at least six feet tall, maybe taller. And he was built like a ton of bricks. Mark quietly bristled at the interruption.

“We got something for you,” the man said in a deep voice. He turned to face Mark and Guillerman. “Gentlemen.” he dipped his head to them.

“Thank you.” Grayer said, taking the laptop and pictures from the man. The man sat next to Grayer. Mark looked forward to getting back to business.

Grayer’s smile shrunk and he flipped through the polaroids. The man next to him grinned. “Derek,” he said. “Derek Shaw.” he shook hands with Mark across the table. Then Guillerman leaned over and shook hands with him.

“He’s my right hand man,” Grayer said. “Helps keep the business in order.”

“What can I say?” Shaw added. “Everyone needs a right hand man.”

It set Mark on edge. He looked above the smooth hair at the soldiers roaming about outside. They felt less like employees and more like an occupying force. He focused back on the discussion at hand.

“No fingerprints,” he reiterated. “No clues. No evidence. And ah, where do you suggest we go from here?”

Grayer’s eyes met his own. His grin returned. “Ah, but gents. The only things they didn’t cover were their tracks.” he held up one of the photos, turning it for both Mark and Guillerman to see. The photograph displayed an actual shoe print. Grayer set the picture down in front of them.

Mark lifted the picture to his face to examine the print. Etched in the white ground and surrounded by tiny pebbles, it taunted him. He would’ve rather seen the person who made the print.

“I’m sorry,” he put down the picture. “But what are we supposed to do with this?”

Holding the photos in one hand, Grayer pulled one from the deck with his other like a magician preparing to do a card trick. He showed them the picture. “This shoe print is smooth. Crisp. You can barely see any wear and tear. They’re newly bought.”

He failed to see why this mattered. But then Shaw cleared his throat. “I know that brand,” he said. “Under Armour. At least one of ‘em wore Under Armour.” he leaned back in his seat before focusing on Mark.

“Damn, Russell,” he said. “You keep this place airtight, but I gotta wonder why it feels stuffy.”

“It works for us.” Mark said.

“Damn right it does.” Shaw gave a relaxed smile with narrowed eyes. Meanwhile Grayer opened his laptop. He typed and clicked. The laptop’s light on his face dimmed before going bright again. Grayer’s eyes widened in shock.

“It turns out Under Armour isn’t sold in Sisters anymore,” Grayer said. “It hasn’t been for several years.”

Mark tried to track where Grayer was going with this. The shoes were bought recently, but what did that tell them about the unknown group?

“You know what I think, boys?” Grayer said. “I think the owner of these shoes recently moved to Sisters, or… these folks are far from home.”

“Want us to watch the nearby hotels?” Shaw asked.

“I do, but don’t leave just yet.” Grayer said. Then he typed on his laptop again. His fingers danced on the keys. His eyes searched his screen.

“Friends, when you’re trying to find amateur terrorists,” Grayer said. “Social media is your ally.”

“Yeah. One of the suspects must’ve slipped up and showed off their hotel,” Shaw suggested. “Check out Best Western. That’s a popular one.”

“What are you hoping to find?” Mark asked. “Even if this group is at a hotel, that barely narrows it down. How will you know who our terrorists are? Their shoes?”

“We’re checking every hotel in a ten mile radius of the pit,” Shaw said. “The suspects moved into one. Probably.”

Mark assumed they also checked for the most recent posts. Anyone who moved in recently was a potential member of the unknown group. He decided to let Grayer and his man do their work. Animals, even Titans, were much simpler than this business of tracking people and profiling groups. But Grayer thrived in that realm. He breathed it. They had hired him back for a reason.

“Check Fig Leaf Lodge,” Shaw said. “It’s only five miles from the pit.” Mark had seen that hotel. As far as he knew Sisters only had one Fig Leaf Lodge. A couple of minutes later Grayer paused before his smile came. He worked largely by instinct. And his instincts had locked onto something

Shaw looked at the screen. His eyes widened slightly. “Huh,” he said to Grayer. “Well I be go to hell. You wanna show ‘em that?”

Mark got up and walked around the table to Grayer and Shaw. Guillerman stood and followed him. He leaned over Grayer’s shoulder as he scrolled down an Instagram page. Shaw stood up, obscuring Guillerman behind his massive frame. “I can’t stand these chairs, Russell.” Shaw said in a voice marginally louder than a whisper.

He scrolled back to the post of the selfie taken from above. A young woman stood on a balcony, beaming up at the camera. She looked Indian or maybe Pakistani. The tiny figures of several people walked on the ground beneath the balcony.

“Well, look at that. Now what are you doing here, Sandra?”

Chapter 16: Wolves and Sheep

Summary:

Flynn deploys his man to make the first move against Adversary. Sandra follows the group as they head out of the hotel.

The location read Fig Leaf Lodge, Sisters. Grayer hovered his mouse over her name right above the post. The girl’s Instagram handle only said sandra_s.

“Sandra S,” Grayer said.

Mark frowned. “That might not be her name,” he said. “People give themselves names like tofu-lover here.”

Grayer shrugged. He scrolled through all the other posts under that location. Sandra’s selfie had been posted four days ago while every other post was several months old. That meant this person had been within striking distance of the gravel pit recently. And it meant she had come from outside of Sisters. Grayer clicked on the post before clicking his way to the profile page.

“There is her real name,” Grayer said. He pointed to the screen name on the profile which read Sandra Sookdeosingh. “Screen names are always real names.”

He clicked back on the smoking gun of a post. Mark stared in disbelief. “You… you think she’s one of the terrorists?”

Grayer sat back, putting one leg over the other in an admittedly elegant pose. “Can never be too sure, eh Russell?”

This was absurd. “Jesus Grayer, look at her! She’s just living her life.”

“Maybe she is. But…”

“All I’m saying," Mark said. "Is this lead seems kind of thin.”

Grayer cocked his restless head to the side. Mark doubted he gave his concern actual thought. “That may be so, but it makes sense to rule it out. Don’t you think?”

He couldn’t tell if he sensed certainty in Grayer. Despite his misgivings, Grayer’s animated smile and genuine eyes put Mark at ease. He nodded in agreement, failing to hold comfort at bay. “And how do you intend to rule it out, exactly?”

Grayer beamed up at him. “I am glad you asked,” he said. “My man Shaw’s gonna stake out the place. Don’t worry, he won’t spook the neighbors. Then he’ll take pictures of any, ah, suspicious characters who come outta the hotel.”

“Stakeout should be straight as an arrow.” Shaw said.

Mark looked from Shaw to Grayer. He almost held his breath while considering his answer.

“Relax, Russell. He’ll be so quiet. It’ll be like he wasn’t even there, right Shaw?”

“Like I wasn’t even there.”

Mark kept his eyes on Grayer. “Only pictures. Understand?”

“Oh yes,” Grayer said. Then he slid his chair back and bounced to his feet. He stuck out his hand to Mark. “And hey, I am honored to be back on the team.”

His voice was musical and yet eerie. Mark tried awakening the urge to bristle at it; he shook Grayer’s hand and smiled good-naturedly. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Grayer led the way out and Mark closed the door. Fewer soldiers than before remained in the lounge. They gathered around Grayer as soon as he stepped over to them. As Mark left them in the lounge he wondered just how pointless Grayer’s stealth mission would be. No way some random girl in a hotel was responsible for attacking Monarch. Anyway, at the moment there were bigger fish to fry. But he couldn’t fry them until the drones arrived.

_________________________________

Four days had passed since Sandra went public about her trip.

She stood in her bathroom, fixing her braid. Afterward she came out and strode to the balcony. This must’ve been her fifth time visiting the balcony but it still felt like her first time. It was noon and the sun floated bright in the sky. Its light smothered the roofs of the nearby buildings. She basked in its glow. The gentle warmth fell on her face. The breeze stroked her sleeves. They hadn’t planned to stay here for this long, but Sandra didn’t mind. Ren would compensate them all.

She hadn’t thought about them. It had been two hours since she woke up and she hadn’t thought about her nameless group of friends at all. That was progress. She deserved to congratulate herself. The therapist would say so.

She looked at the distant mountains, stoic and cloudless. The world hadn’t gotten over the destruction of seven years ago, yet when her eyes met the proud peaks on the horizon they silently told her nothing had changed.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her she was here on official business rather than vacation. She turned around and stepped inside. She pulled out the phone and opened it to find a text from Erica in the group chat. The cheerful message proposed that they visit Romano since he had only one day left to recover. Sandra smiled and wondered who would reply first. She for sure wouldn’t.

The first reply came from Vic. He’d go. Sandra texted that she’d come.

Then came Ren’s message assuring that he’d drive. His next message decided they would leave an hour and twenty from now. She retreated to the bathroom to get ready.

What was Monarch up to right now? Probably chasing their own tails looking for her group. Excited little thrills shot through her at the thought.

Someone rapped on her door. She knew who before he even spoke. “Sandy?”

“Vic? Hold on, I’m coming.”

But as she opened the door for him a strange sort of disquiet came over her. The door swung open and in he stepped. He wore a dark gray backpack. Turning her back to him she walked to the purple couch. His pleasant face and round cheeks reminded her of that thing she had said to him a while ago. She had rambled stupidly to him, like some girl on her first liquor. The less she thought about being able to kill for Adversary, the better.

“Hey um, Vic? Remember when I told you about my old friends? Let’s just forget about anything I said after that.”

Vic sat heavily next to her. “What thing you said?” he asked in a tone that played dumb. Sandra smiled. Then she changed the subject.

“I dunno about you, but I’ll never get tired of this place.”

“Eh, I’m not much for hotels.”

“Oh really? Then what are you for?” She crossed her legs and sat back. She wanted to hear this.

Vic shrugged. “I dunno,” he said. “Some place smaller. More cozy I guess. Less people.”

Sandra rubbed her chin with her thumb and forefinger. “Huh. So what about that beachfront villa? Is that too big for Victor Peterson?” When he laughed, it catalyzed all sorts of warm thoughts in her. “Is it?” she pressed, unable to stop her own laughter.

He composed himself. “Anyway, it feels like we’ve overstayed our welcome here. We should’ve checked out by now.”

“And ruin all the fun?”

“Well, we’ve got things to get back to. You have a dog to feed, I have stuff, and I know Ben has a lot of stuff to work on too.”

A twinge of irritation slipped into her upon being reminded of her apartment. She pushed it down by snickering. “My dog’s being fed. Besides, we’re staying for Romano. And he’s one of us, you know?”

Victor shrugged again. “If you say so,” he said. “Anyway, Walker’s probably not coming with us to see him.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I texted him earlier. He said he’d take a nap instead.”

Sandra found that peculiar. “He’s not saying this in the group chat?” It dawned on her that Walker had been the only one to not send messages in the group chat at all.

“You know him,” he said. “He has his reasons.”

Then it became Sandra’s turn to shrug. “He can suit himself.”

Victor went quiet for a moment. He faced her, but in his kind eyes she saw hesitance. “What is it?” she asked.

“I’m thinking you should talk to him.” Victor said.

“Talk to him?” Sandra asked. The thought sailed through her mind before landing in its darkest corner. Her stomach began a slow, sickening roll-over. “There’s nothing to talk about. Not with him.”

“I think you should squash things with him,” he said. “I’m not saying you need to be his best friend or anything. Just… he is one of us. And he’s done a lot for us.”

“He’ll be okay if I don’t talk to him.” She said in an almost offhand tone. But once he looked at her his green eyes took on a flat light that made her rethink what she just said. She sensed the awkwardness threatening to fall on them.

“Maybe. Maybe I will,” she clarified. “But don’t be getting your hopes up.”

Victor nodded and patted her shoulder. He paused and withdrew his hand as if he’d touched the scales of a venomous snake. “Is it okay if I do that?” he asked.

Sandra smiled warmly at him. “Get over here, punk.” She grabbed his entire arm and draped it over her neck and shoulder like a celebrity’s pet python.

She sat with him, lost in thought. She didn’t want to but one way or another she’d convince herself to talk to Walker, their resident trigger-happy he-man. Because Vic had said so. If he wanted her to do something, all he needed to do was ask and she’d do it. Sure, she might protest and complain but eventually she’d do it. She couldn’t be sure when or how it started, but she didn’t mind it. Perhaps she’d try using those powers on him, though she wasn’t sure they’d work.

After sitting together and breathing the fresh hotel room air, Vic pointed to his bag. “I got something for us.”

“Can I see?”

As soon as Vic nodded she got up and grabbed the bag. She opened it to find two cans of soda. Putting the bag down she lifted the sodas out. Big letters marked them as Mountain Dew. She stepped over to the table and placed them down on the small round table.

“Don’t open them yet,” Vic said as he stood. “They might give us a fizzy surprise.” He hurried over to the table and took one. His green eyes brightened. “Watch this.” He placed the can down and began to turn it with gentle, slow fingers.

“What are you doing?” Sandra asked.

“Something about the circular motion,” he said. “Makes the soda calm down.” Vic stopped before opening the can. The dark drink remained as stately as a pond on a warm summer’s day.

Sandra immediately wanted to try it. She took the unopened can and began spinning it with her hand.

“Gently.” Vic reminded her.

She turned it counter clockwise. She glanced at him before glancing back. “Okay,” Vic said. “You could probably open it.”

Sandra cracked it open. Her drink remained still, tamed by her gentle turning. “I’m impressed,” she said, drinking her soda.

“Yeah. Survival skills, you know? You should pay me to teach you more,” he said merrily.

Sandra scoffed. “I’ll pass, Bear Grylls.”

He glanced at the clock high on the wall. “We have fifteen minutes,” he said. “Wanna go down to the lobby and wait for them?” She nodded and he led the way out of her room. She paused and looked toward her closet where her camera was. It lay with all the things she did at the gravel pit. In her mind she begged Victor to take her arm and pull her into the hall away from what now stirred in her heart. But he didn't. She turned and walked out, closing the door. The malicious thing stirring in her heart went quiet. As long as she ignored it, it would ignore her.

By the time they reached the lobby it was quiet and mostly abandoned. Vic led her to the couches in the center of the lobby before they both sat down. The stone chimney rose up in front of them like a great pillar, and Sandra found herself reliving the hotel stays from her youth. Her parents didn’t take her traveling on a regular basis and she hadn’t liked hotels very much. But now she was strangely nostalgic for those times again.

She caught herself reminiscing again and shook off the nostalgia. A man and a woman came down the nearby stairs. Two children bounded out from behind them and off the stairwell. Sandra clenched her fingers, wondering where everyone else was. She leaned back and tried to be patient, but her mind ran in circles like a trapped rat. She finally stood. Victor looked up at her.

“I’m gonna walk around.” She announced to him.

Erica’s shrill voice came from the stairs. “Hey you guys!” Sandra turned to see her hurry toward them, her ponytail bouncing around. Ren Serizawa sauntered behind her. Erica threw her arms around Sandra. Sandra instinctively hugged her back. Once Vic stood up Sandra hugged him as well. “How are you both doing?”

“Couldn’t be better,” Sandra said.

“How about you guys?” Vic asked.

“Great!” Erica said as Ren came up next to her. “Ben and I decided we should get fast food on the way to the hospital.”

Sandra followed Ren’s eyes to the wooden doors that led outside. He looked at the exit in a frankly speculative way. He turned to the three of them. “Come on.” He said briskly. They followed him through the lobby. As Erica began going over restaurant options with Ren, Sandra tapped Vic’s shoulder.

“I was thinking,” she said in a low voice. “I should quit being a substitute teacher.”

He gave her a look of concern. “How come? The pay?”

She shook her head. “No, the pay’s decent. But it’s not what I was meant to do. And now I have a real opportunity here to do what I was meant to.”

Victor pressed his lips. Sandra raised her eyebrows. “You got something to say about it?”

His hand wandered to his forehead and rubbed it. “I think that’s a mistake.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, really. If this doesn’t work out you’ll need to fall back on your day job. Trust me, it’s always important to have a backup plan.”

“You think what we’re doing here won’t work out?”

“There’s no guarantee.” Victor said.

Sandra didn’t bother saying anymore as they walked through the doors. It would take a lot to convince him that the group could be secure. She didn’t worry about it. All she would need to do was expose Monarch using her footage. Then someone would have to hire her. She’d get all the employment benefits too.

Monarch would respond with ferocity. They’d throw everything at her. Defamation. Libel. Slander. But that was what media liability insurance was for. Sandra breathed in the sunlit air. This afternoon had a charm to it.

Something in Ren’s body movement changed. His face usually didn’t have any humor in it anyway, but right now it seemed more still and serious than usual. A group of teenagers ran across in front of them, laughing and shouting. Ren looked toward the small parking lot that held his car. He looked from side to side, as if searching for a threat no one else could see. Finally, Ren paused in his tracks for no reason.

“What is it?” Sandra asked. Ren didn’t answer her. Not at first. He narrowed his eyes in that cold and speculative way. Doubt began to trickle into Sandra. Doubt of what exactly, she could not know.

“I had an unusual feeling. Nevermind it.”

With that, they continued onto the curving road. “So,” Sandra asked. “Where are we gonna eat?”
The group headed toward Ren’s sleek black sedan.

_________________________________

Derek Shaw had come to the hotel right after the morning meeting with Mark and Captain Grayer. He had a feeling about today and Fig Leaf Lodge. As he sat in his car he tempered his own personal feelings about the people who strolled past his windows. He took the pictures with his pocket sized point-and-shoot camera. With his camera he even snapped parents with children.

He knew his captain well enough. By ‘suspicious people’ he meant everyone. Nobody who came out of the hotel was exempt. So while he reclined in the driver’s seat with his burger and fries, eating like a slob, he flashed his hand up and snapped photos of anyone who came into the frames of his windows. No one would suspect a guy with a heap of fast food in his lap to be on a stakeout.

Derek was prepared to stake this place out all damned night if he had to. If the culprits were here, he would find them. The idea of the terrorists being here kept him awake. Excitement danced on his skin, electric like a thrilling night out on the town.

As he chomped on another fry one issue pricked at him like a stray thorn. Mark had ordered him to take pictures only. That was fine, but Derek couldn’t help but worry about what would happen once they found the culprits. If it was up to him they’d hold one of the terrorists in custody and use Grayer’s special interrogation methods to get information on the rest. Somehow he felt that the deputy director might not go for that approach. Mark knew how to keep Monarch’s shit together, but he let public pressure get to him easily. Derek had always taught his men that wolves didn’t give a rat’s ass about the feelings of sheep. Yet it was hard to be a wolf in a world ruled by sheep.

Things had been better when Monarch didn’t hold the Interpersonal Division back. Back then, they could actually keep order. Now they needed to keep a squeaky clean image with the public, and that so far had royally fucked them. He’d never forget Apex Cybernetics. MechaGodzilla. His team had been close to finding it, but Russell and Guillerman had pulled them out of the investigation. It wasn’t worth the unnecessary risk, they said. He and his boys had been right all along and eventually, they were proven right. But Hong Kong got fucked over for it.

If Russell made his people surrender to these terrorists, there would be consequences. Maybe next time they’d plant a pipe bomb and kill dozens. They were a small group, but that was no consolation.

An old man trudged past his car. A quick flash of Derek’s hand later and the man’s likeness became stored in his camera. That guy probably wasn’t one of their terrorists. He moved his food and reached for his flat and shining belt buckle to adjust it. He pulled the food wrap back onto his lap again. The sun rose higher in the sky. He continued to eat. Movement of more people caught his eye near the hotel’s front doors.

A group of four sauntered by the numerous potted plants at the entrance. They paused, and their leader looked around the place. They continued on their path, drawing closer to him. When he saw the eyes of the leader, he wished his windshield could be tinted like his side windows. The man cast a suspicious gaze wherever he looked. The group came closer, walking in lockstep. The leader looked Japanese. The others were two women and a man. They followed his composed, wary stride.

One of the women came to the front of the group alongside the leader. And right then, Derek nearly froze. It was her. Sandra. From the Instagram post. They came closer, now in full view in front of him. Derek blinked and took a bite of his burger, trying to look as mindless as possible. Just another random stranger eating in his car. He secretly wiped his hands with a napkin and grabbed the camera.

The four suspects never gave him a glance. They walked toward the edge of the windshield’s frame. His hand flashed up and he took several pictures, one of the leader and two of the group. He lowered the camera out of sight. They left the view of the windshield and inhabited his passenger side window. They stopped at a small black car, a sedan, that crouched beside a massive bush like a panther. The leader took a careful step back from the sedan and looked around. Once again he pushed Derek into unease. He could have sworn the guy looked like someone he had investigated once alongside Captain Grayer. The suspect's eyes hid something. Trying to sneak up on him would be like sneaking up on a jungle cat. Nearly impossible.

The one he knew as Sandra tapped the Japanese man on the shoulder. His head spun to face her and nodded. She stepped away from him to open the back door. Derek snapped a photo of just her. Captain would wanna see this. The more he looked at their leader’s face the more he recognized him. He just wasn’t sure where from. One thing was for certain, however. He had found Sandra's group. They were the group of interest.

The leader opened his car’s driver side door and slid in. The others got in the car with him. Derek wrapped up his food and pushed it into the stained bag. He grabbed his plastic water bottle from the cupholder. With a drink of his water he thought through his options. It was clear the group would drive off. He could tail them once they drove away or continue staking the place out. Derek shot a quick text to Captain Grayer.

The black sedan powered to life. Derek took another swig of water. It rolled from its stall and turned right, following the winding road behind the trees. Derek’s heartbeat began to increase. His hands had just gotten a little too cold, and he wanted to tail these guys already. The phone vibrated again.

He checked the message. Return to Outpost. The pictures are all we need right now. Derek’s shoulders fell in disappointment. As much as he wanted to follow the terrorists, the captain’s orders made sense. Tailing these guys was too spontaneous, too risky. They couldn’t risk alarming these people. Whatever their next move turned out to be, stealth would be their greatest weapon.

Derek turned on the car. Without wasting any time he drove out of the parking lot to return to the outpost.

Chapter 17: Witness

Summary:

As a debate over Ren Serizawa's survival takes shape, Madison holds the key to deciding what Flynn does next.

Mark glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until the meeting. It felt like he had been in bed only five minutes ago. The meeting was impromptu, so he couldn’t be sure of all who would come. Chen came to mind first. She’d probably come. Guillerman would come. Rick wouldn’t come. He still couldn’t believe Grayer’s man had already zeroed in on their terrorists. It had only been two days. The speed and efficiency of it bothered Mark. Hunting Titans, that felt natural. In a strange way, it felt right. But hunting other humans struck him as twisted, unnatural, and something Monarch shouldn’t have any business in.

But Monarch was apparently good at hunting people, and that had become increasingly hard to put up with since this had all started. Ever since Grayer’s arrival, the temptation to send Madison home had increased. He entered the bathroom and washed his hands. Grayer apparently had pictures of suspects to show everyone. He hoped the pictures were of the wrong people, as awful as it seemed to hope for that.

Leaving the bathroom, he headed down the hall and crossed the empty lounge. He remembered the squadron of soldiers occupying its chairs and tables. They had been here today and their presence seemed to linger. It made him feel a little less at home here than usual. The couches bore their outlines where they had been sitting. The air even smelled funny. He wondered if his wolf pack felt this way when they smelled intruders within their territory.

Mark opened the door to the morning sun. He strode outside and walked around the front of the building. He headed for the smaller building right behind this one. While the big one had the little conference room, lounge, kitchen, sleeping quarters and more, the little building was mostly a large conference room. He hadn’t known this place for long but he was sure the large conference room was meant for matters too serious to be discussed in ten minutes over a cup of coffee. He slightly increased his gait, hurrying around the back. As he approached the door he wondered who would be here already.

With a deep breath he opened the door and stepped inside. Not a soul could be found. Of course he was alone here. He closed the door and wandered to the table. The place was large and functional. Paintings of psychedelic patterns saved the room from looking like part of the barracks. Five television screens lined one of the walls. The door opened and Guillerman came in. The windows, big and high, made him look almost diminutive.

“Good morning, Dr. Russell.”

As soon as Mark returned the greeting the door opened again behind Guillerman. In walked Captain Grayer, strutting as if he was the one and only. His excited gaze landed on him.

“Dr. Russell,” Grayer said, straightening his brown tie. “I was just telling the director how we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Mark asked.

“Yeah!” Grayer said. “We’re gonna deserve a celebration, especially after today.”

Behind him Colonel Foster and Derek Shaw walked in and came to the table. But Grayer’s wide-eyed joy distracted him from them.

“I have some ideas,” Grayer said. He clapped his hands together. “So, musicals in Los Angeles. Picture it. Champaign in your hand, the lights dimming, the curtains pulling back-” he spread his hands as if presenting something extravagant. “-the wonderful actors and actresses dazzling you. Or if you’re a guy who prefers quiet activities, hot air balloon rides.” Grayer smiled and raised his eyebrows. As if he knew he could tease out the slightest sliver of excitement in Mark. “Eh? I’ve got you thinking, don’t I?”

He knew he should’ve been mad or at least annoyed with Grayer, but he found himself disarmed again. Mark nodded and put on a half smile. “Sure. And uh, what are we celebrating?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” he assured. “Just you wait. I bet Shaw fifty bucks that you’d love it,” he looked back at Shaw. “You’re gonna owe me fifty bucks soon. Don’t think I’ll forget either. I’ve got quite the memory.”

Shaw laughed, and for a millisecond Mark swore he saw Foster’s face become a smile.

“Alright,” Mark said. “Just show me.”

At that, Grayer marched off to a computer several yards behind the table. Foster came forward and shook Mark’s hand. Guillerman and Derek Shaw did the same.

“Okay everyone,” Grayer announced. “Drumroll please…”

Then the screens came on. Four of them did. And on each one appeared a close up shot of a person. These pictures had clearly been candid. The captain’s footsteps paraded toward the table.

“Meet our terrorists,” Grayer said. “Shaw found them.”

Guillerman, Foster and Shaw sat but Mark did not. Instead he became caught in a whirlwind of utter disbelief. He proceeded to tread around the table and stride in front of the screens. The first one showed a young man with a warm smile and slightly messy hair. The next one showed a skinny, young, blonde woman with a ponytail. The next one was a young brown woman with a single braid. The fourth screen showed a Japanese man with a mustache and a careful, attentive stare that reminded him of a mountain lion. Grayer ambled up to his side.

These pictures threw him off but he wasn’t sure why. Something drew his eye back to the previous screen. The woman barely faced the camera as she stood beside a car. Yet she seemed familiar. Then he remembered.

Instagram. Grayer’s clue. This was Sandra. That girl from Fig Leaf. These weren’t their terrorists. They were just some friends of Sandra’s. Grayer had come here to satisfy his pet theory. Nothing more. He had wasted their time. But as frustration seeped in, so did an undeniable sense of relief.

“These are them?” Foster asked.

Time to end this farce. “Grayer, Shaw found Sandra. He didn’t find the hijackers. Why should we think she and these random people are the ones we’re looking for?”

But Grayer’s massive grin and smug eyes didn’t waver. His eyes remained fixated on the fourth screen to the right. The one that showed the Japanese man.

“Well?” Mark pressed. “What’s your evidence?”

“With all due respect, Grayer,” Guillerman said. “You have a relatively flimsy lead. Is there anything to suggest this Sandra character is our suspect?”

Grayer remained silent. Despite the questions he stared at the screen with something like indifference. His eyes remained bright but they seemed almost violet. He cleared his throat before turning to face Mark. His eyes then filled with incredulity. He looked back at the other three at the table. “Gentlemen. Colonel,” Grayer said. “Don’t you know who that is?”

Mark looked back at the mustached man with the piercing gaze. He shook his head. “No. I don’t have a clue who that is.”

“Ren Serizawa.” Grayer’s smile grew proud, waiting for the weight of the realization to sink into Mark.

“Serizawa?” Mark asked, doing several inward double-takes. The wind became sucked out of his relief-mingled frustration. He had indeed heard of this man before. He had known his father. In fact, he had been one of the last people to speak to his father.

“Is that… Ishiro Serizawa’s son?” Foster asked.

“Yes,” Mark said. “He is.”

“The MechaGodzilla pilot,” Guillerman reminded them.

“I’ve met him,” Grayer said. “He didn’t just pilot MechaGodzilla. He’s one of the two engineers who designed it.” He said it with palpable admiration.

“I thought Walter Simmons built it?” Foster asked.

Grayer shook his head. “He was the visionary, sure. The inspiration. But he wasn’t the brains that built a Titan-killing weapon from the ground up.”

“That’s right,” Shaw said. “Our boy Ren did.”

“There is one problem with your theory,” Guillerman said. “Serizawa’s dead. The Apex employees who transitioned to Monarch all agree on this. I have seen his death certificate. There has been no evidence he survived the Hong Kong incident.”

Grayer grinned. “He’s alive. And I’d love to prove it to you.”

“But you can’t,” Mark said. “Can you?”

“No,” Grayer said. “You can.”

“What? Me?” How did Grayer expect him to prove his far fetched hypothesis? The lunacy would’ve been amusing to him if he wasn’t the one put under pressure.

“Your daughter. Madison.”

Hearing Grayer say Maddie’s name made Mark’s skin crawl. “Excuse me? What would she know?”

“Everything,” Grayer said. “She was there, Mark. She was in Hong Kong. She got close to Apex. I think that makes her part of the team, don’t you? Bring her here. We’ll see what she knows.”

Maddie had indeed been at Hong Kong. Mark hadn’t thought of it until now, but she had the key to this investigation. Ren had died there. The investigation into Hong Kong had revealed that much. Her words would surely disprove Grayer’s theory. Yet he wanted her nowhere near these shenanigans. If Grayer wanted to hunt these people, fine. But he wouldn’t drag Madison into it.

But Guillerman didn’t share his sentiment. “Is Madison available?” he asked.

Mark began to breathe a little faster. “I don’t know. She could be asleep right now. She probably is.”

“Go talk to her,” Guillerman said in a tone that brooked no argument. “I want to get to the bottom of this.”

Mark nodded and turned to leave. As he opened the door and marched out he remembered Chen. He doubted she would show up now, as she usually didn’t come late to these. It had been wishful thinking to think she’d come. This wasn’t in her line of expertise. Mark resolved to keep Madison away from this situation room. He’d ask her about the mecha pilot, she’d tell him he died, then he would come back and kick Grayer’s so-called evidence to the curb.

He opened the back door and slipped inside the main building. His pace slowed as he headed to Madison’s room. As he climbed the stairs he remembered his duty to her. His mind fixated on it, worrying at it as if he might lose it any moment. He had to stay with her. No matter what, he couldn’t even look like he might abandon her. He could still see Emma’s face revolving. As he came out of the stairwell and trudged into the hallway her unwanted words floated around, echoing in his ears. Accusations. And some of them were true. He had run from his family while she had stayed and trained Maddie to survive.

Those accusations rang true two years ago when like someone wandering in circles, he had done it again, abandoning Madison and leaving her to sort things out herself. He hadn’t been there for her, rain or shine, and she had almost paid the price. He got to her door, took a deep breath, then knocked on it.

“Dad?” She answered.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“You can come in.”

He sighed. “Come unlock the door.”

A shallow click came, prompting Mark to open the door. As soon as he came in he saw Madison’s back as she trudged to her desk.

“How are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” Madison said. She sat in her chair. “That’s the fifth time you’ve asked me that.”

He had already started off on the wrong foot. Of course. “Is something wrong, honey?”

She didn’t answer.

“You’ve gotta talk to me,” he said. “I can’t help if you don’t speak up about it.”

At this, her shoulders rose and she spun around in her chair. “You don’t trust me,” she said. “Do you?”

“I don’t trust you?” Mark asked, baffled. There was no reason on God’s green earth for her to think he distrusted her. “Of course I trust you.”

She crossed her arms. “Dad, you keep checking on me like I’m gonna run off. Cause I did before, right?”

“Maddie, that’s not what this is. You’ve got it all wrong.” He considered telling her he had brought her to Monarch to prevent her from running off, but he wasn’t sure she’d react well to that.

“Then what is it?”

“I need you,” He admitted. “Okay? It’s about Grayer’s investigation.”

“The investigation into those people that attacked G-Team?” she asked. Her arms uncrossed. “Are they meeting about it now?”

“Yes,” Mark admitted. “They are. And they wanted to know what you saw in Hong Kong.”

Before he could get all the words out Madison got up and placed something on her desk. She moved a book into a corner and put her phone in her pocket. She swept her jacket up from a separate table. Though she didn’t smile, her face had brightened like a lamp.

“What are you doing?” He asked, apprehensive.

“I’m coming with you.”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t want you to be there.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t business I want you involved in. I just have a question about the MechaGodzilla pilot. You can answer it here.”

“But I am involved,” she retorted. “You came to get information from me, so that makes me involved.”

“Maddie…”

“I’m only gonna answer your questions in the meeting,” she slipped her indigo jacket on. “So are we going?”

Mark pressed his lips. He couldn’t budge her on this one. “Alright. Follow me.” With that he led her out of the room. They ambled down the hallway in silence but when they turned down the stairwell, that changed.

“How’s Josh doing?” He asked. “You still talk to him?”

“Of course I still talk to him,” she said. Her tone sounded gentler than before. “He’s doing well. He’s in a band now.”

Okay, so far so good. “How about your other friend? Trish?”

“She’s not my friend,” Madison corrected. Then she smiled a little. “But we talk. She actually thinks Monarch is cool. I think she’s a little bit jealous.”

“Oh, really?”

“Her dad's a storm chaser. That’s probably why.”

Before he knew it he had opened the back door and begun the trek to the conference room. Madison focused on the doors but to his relief she didn’t speed up and pace ahead of him. He wanted this walk with her to last forever. It wouldn’t be long before she went off to college. As rare as this quality time was now, it would get even rarer then.

Then the door of the conference building loomed over them. And there was Madison, reaching out to open it. The cold air of the inside greeted him before Grayer’s expressive eyes did.

“Hey, kiddo.” Shaw said.

Grayer’s hands snuck behind his back. He focused on Madison, looking at her as if he had spotted a vital piece on his chess board. “Ms. Russell. I’ve been an admirer of your mother for many years. And from what I’ve heard, you take after her. Astonishing.”

Madison narrowed her eyes at him. Then she looked at the screens and the massive images on them. Her face relaxed as she eyed each one of them. “Are these them?”

“They could be. We don’t know for sure,” he said. “But that’s where you come in. I just need to know if you recognize any of them.”

Madison looked from one screen to the other, silently interrogating the faces of the kindly smiling kid, the blonde girl, the girl they had identified as Sandra, and the Japanese man. Her eyes lingered on him. She frowned and looked back at Grayer. “When did you get these?”

“I didn’t,” Grayer said. “Shaw, when did you get these magnificent photos?”

“‘Bout two days ago, kid.” He said to Madison.

“Did something jog your memory?” Grayer asked.

“Yeah,” Madison said. “The picture way over here.” she walked to the screen with the man said to be Ren Serizawa. “I’ve definitely seen him before.”

Grayer smiled, clearly eating this up. “Might I ask where and when you saw him?”

Mark struggled to keep the scowl off his face as Grayer raked another answer out of Madison. “Hong Kong,” she said. “Before MechaGodzilla attacked the city. He was the pilot with the helmet on. But… something happened to him.” And then she stared past Grayer. Mark knew that look. He bet he looked a similar way whenever he thought about Boston.

“What exactly happened?” Guillerman asked.

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “But when I went to look for him he was gone. I never saw his body.”

The room became silent at that. Shaw cleared his throat. Mark felt frustration rise. He had to say something. “Okay, him being gone doesn’t prove anything. Our people picked that place clean and found nothing.”

“He’s right,” Grayer said. “Is that all you have, Maddie?”

Mark narrowed his eyes on him. Madison jerked like she’d been shoved. “No, that’s not all I got,” she retorted in that bullheaded way he knew far better than he wanted to. “My friend was there with me. He actually saw medics rolling a stretcher away during the whole thing. It was out of the corner of his eye but he said he saw it.”

Grayer’s knowing smile told Mark he got what he wanted. He paraded himself in front of the screens, then spread his arms again and smiled at everyone before him as if he was on a stage. “And that’s all, folks.”

"You know," Shaw said. "I knew I recognized him. Back from our investigation of Apex. I'll be damned."

“Ren Serizawa lives,” Guillerman announced. “If what Ms. Russell said is true.”

“It is.” Madison said. Mark had to admit that Grayer’s theory had just gotten stronger.

“It is enough to make Grayer’s suspects worth investigating,” Guillerman went on. “That indeed could be Ren Serizawa, which means we need eyes on him and his group. If anyone can find known photographs of Ren I want comparisons to Shaw’s photos.”

“So what do you think happened?” Mark asked. “Did he fake his death?”

"It’s not impossible,” Guillerman said. “And it wouldn’t be the first time anyone has done this in recent memory.”

Mark paused at this, recalling what happened to Boston after Emma’s Folly. He was glad he hadn’t been there to see it. Guillerman was right. Part of him wondered why Ren would even attack Monarch. But the loud, ugly part of him knew exactly why. Ren's father had chosen to die for Godzilla. Mark still felt it, so he couldn't even imagine how much Ishiro's son felt it. He almost couldn't blame the guy for working against the big lizard after that. If Mark had been in his position, he'd have probably done the same. But Ren's anti-Godzilla sentiment presented a vital clue.

"If Ren's behind this," Mark said. "It means he and his group are vigilantes."

"I was thinking the same," Guillerman said. "They're a small group. They haven't shown interest in raiding us, only doing damage. It's what I'd expect from vigilantes."

"That means they might go public just to send us a message," Grayer said. "We're already monitoring all known anti-Monarch forums. But no leads there so far." He strolled toward Mark. Madison hung around behind him.

“So,” he said. “What do you think? Does Shaw owe me fifty bucks?”

Mark frowned down at him. “I want to know if there's anything else.” he wanted to get this meeting over with.

Grayer gave a mock pout. “Alright, you can be impressed later. Question for you. Do you think your mission to the Hollow Earth is secure?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Mark asked. That reminded him. The drones hadn’t arrived yet, but Coleman had just overseen their inspection.

Grayer shrugged. “Well, I have this crazy idea that Ren's group might interfere with your drone if you send it into the cave.”

Mark frowned. “How could they possibly do this? You yourself said they’re amateurs.”

Grayer gave him a questioning stare. “Do you trust everyone in Monarch?” he asked. “Even the workers you’ve barely seen?”

“What?” Mark asked. “You think there’s a rogue?”

“Bingo!” Grayer said in a sing-song voice. His animated hand pointed at Mark. “Get that man a prize. How did Ren’s group know to ambush G-Team at the gravel pit? They knew the time and place. They planned it. Booked the hotel in advance. There’s a spy among us.”

Mark considered it. The case was compelling, and he inwardly kicked himself for not thinking about it earlier. Then Shaw spoke up.

“The spy you’re looking for?” he said. “Right here at the outpost. Someone here’s not with the program.”

“Who could it be?” Foster asked. “Should we look into Stanton? Chen? Riccio?”

Shaw shook his head. “Naw. Chatterbox and his associates are fully on board. I don’t mean anyone with Crimson clearance. I mean someone lower on the totem pole. One of the boys doin’ janitorial, maybe.”

“We’ll look into them for you,” Grayer said. “The important thing is that he’s unaware that we know there's a spy. That means we have the advantage. Any misstep the rogue makes, we’ll catch it.”

The Interpersonal Division captain looked damn near thrilled to have a new variable to deal with. He thought this was all fun and games. “How do we stop them?” Mark asked. “I’m all ears.”

Grayer’s eyes twinkled as he smiled at Mark. “Shaw, you’re about to owe me fifty bucks.”

Chapter 18: Three Sisters

Summary:

The spy within Monarch gets an opportunity and carries out espionage.

Daniel Olsen leaned back in the pilot seat of his HEAV. No, it wasn’t his. It belonged to Monarch. He sat in the HEAV as it hovered in mid air, feeling a little more at home in it than yesterday. He was hovering all by himself. He had done it quite a few times but that realization still put an energy in his veins.

Time to land.

Dan shifted to down and watched the distant trees rise up. The empty parking lot came close as he controlled his descent. The HEAV shook slightly, but the trembles no longer scared him. A heavy thud came as it set on the pavement. He probably had a silly grin on his face but he didn’t care. This had to be what conquering the world felt like.

He had to admit that Monarch had it well. They had crossed many lines but that hadn’t stopped them from getting their riches. His mother had always taught him not to hate anyone and bless her, he held onto that. But corrupt organizations and corporations were fair game. Monarch’s goals were agreeable when he joined them. He hadn’t warmed up to the Titans right away, but he had always considered himself an open minded man. Eventually the creatures turned out to be good for the world. Even when they were destructive Monarch had a way of predicting them and even reining them in.

Amy had questioned it, but eventually accepted his entrance into Monarch. For a long time he didn’t regret it. Now as the HEAV’s engines quieted he thought about Amy. They had been married for so long that it only made sense to tell her everything. But she would never understand. She’d never accept that he had just joined a vigilante group. But his conscience was clear. What she didn’t know would never hurt her. As far as she was concerned he did repairs on the equipment around Outpost 20, nothing more.

Dan turned his head to see the scientist strolling toward him on the pavement. Walter Riccio. Dan put a smile on his face and climbed out. He wiped a clump of dust off his uniform’s Monarch badge.

“Hello Daniel!” Walter greeted.

“Hey, yourself!” Dan said.

“You’re a quick learner!” Walter said. “Remember, it’s best not to leave it running with the lights on. Drains the battery.”

“Oh yeah,” Dan nodded. “I am nothing if not careful. So, do you need anything else from me?”

“Yep. Deputy director wants more people to train with these things,” Walter said. “And he wants prospective pilots to conduct solo missions.”

“Solo missions?”

Walter put up a reassuring hand. “Don’t worry, these are just test missions. Fly into an area and come back to base.”

That got Dan’s attention. He might actually get to fly a HEAV alone. That would present him with the perfect opportunity to get one to Adversary. They’d need one soon. “Was this approved by the director?” he asked.

Walter nodded. “You’re first, Daniel.” Then he smiled. “He wants to see if you can handle yourself. Are you ready?”

“Well,” Dan said. “I’d like to know where I’m flying first.”

“How does Devil’s Cave sound? It’s right at the Three Sisters.”

Dan already knew about those mountains. He nearly asked Walter about the unmanned drone mission to the Hollow Earth but he didn’t let it slip. They could not know what he knew. “Well I’m up for it,” Dan said. “But I have to ask. Would I be monitored? Are there any safety measures Russell told you about?”

“You won’t be monitored,” Walter said. “But if you have a problem down there they’ll send people in the other HEAVs to get you.”

Dan nodded. Good. There would be no cameras or trackers on him. Monarch received a boatload of Apex’s HEAVs after the company fell. Dan would just need to make sure that Adversary took care of Monarch’s mission before the other HEAVs came flying in. Dan was pretty sure that Russell looked down on him. It meant the deputy director wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“When do I fly that bad boy?” Dan asked.

Walter shrugged. “We’re not entirely sure yet. You’ll be kept posted.”

It was good enough for Dan. As Walter patted him on the shoulder and walked toward the HEAV, Dan started toward Outpost 45. He had to see Russell. He pushed his hand into his pocket. His fingers brushed the device. Good. It was still there.
The heat from the sun awakened sweat from his brow. As he trudged on the wide path to the outpost he considered the time he’d be free to call Ben. It would have to be after his shift. His phone might be wiretapped during shift. The last time he had talked to Ben his leader had told him about the new gal in the group. He was glad she had joined. Adversary needed people.

He had tried to probe his coworkers. While he had found some who were disillusioned with Monarch, none of them cared enough to do anything about it. That was the problem these days. Nobody had a spine anymore. Everyone just went where the wind blew. It never failed to frustrate Dan to see his coworkers satisfied with Monarch after what they did during the Mass Awakening. He had been a veteran of many great conversations with Rick Stanton, but even he didn’t see the problems with Monarch. He was there when it happened, and he still kept the wool over his damned eyes. The poor man still held Monarch on a pedestal from what he could tell.

The Titans could be frightening but at least they had their uses. The atomic bomb however, did not. When Monarch detonated one, Dan didn’t believe it at first. The notion was absurd. But when it turned out to be true, the unspeakable act had dragged Monarch from Dan’s pedestal and left him disoriented for days. Serizawa, of all people, should have known better. Of all people, he should’ve fought the hardest to hold the line against nuclear power.

By dying, Serizawa had left Monarch open and vulnerable for exploitation by Apex. By detonating the bomb, he had set a dangerous precedent for every government with a nuclear arsenal. If it was okay to use a nuke once, why not use it again?

Dan entered the front door. He sighed in relief at the soothing blast of the air conditioner. The anguish of Monarch’s betrayal had taken a while to settle in, but now it resided inside Dan as a cool, enduring anger. He approached the little conference room. Luckily he spotted the deputy director inside. Russell sat alone at the table, his laptop on in front of him. The opportunity was perfect to start the plan. He relaxed his brow and knocked on the door.

Russell took a couple seconds too many to look up at him. He waved Dan in. As Dan entered, an old coffee smell lingered in the room. Mark cleared his throat and continued facing the computer. “What can I do for you? Dan, right?”

“Yep. Riccio told me about the HEAV test flights,” he said. “Gotta tell ya, it’s crazy to send new pilots down there.”

Russell looked up at him. As soon as he did Dan sat down in the chair next to him. “It’s not that big of a deal,” Russell said with a smile. “We have that cave mapped out. Don’t worry.”

Yet his smile seemed strained. The deputy director avoided his gaze for a few seconds. Russell looked strangely guilty. In that potential guilt Dan saw opportunity. He frowned his face, trying his best to look upset.

“Is… is something wrong?” Russell asked.

Dan shook his head and tore his face away. “This mission, it’s been eating away at me,” he buried his forehead in his palm. “I sometimes think I don’t have it in me. But I wanna do my part here. Monarch’s my life, you know?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Russell said. His tone went soft as Dan punctuated the performance with a deep sigh. “I’m no expert on the HEAVs but from what I hear you’re great at flying them. Going into that cavern won’t be as bad as you think.”

He stood, and his eyes once again dodged Dan’s gaze. “Listen I’m gonna get some coffee,” Russell said. “Do you want a coffee?”

Dan pressed his lips and quivered them. Then he took a breath. “Yeah. I want a coffee.”

“You want a cream of sugar?” Russell asked.

Dan nodded. Hook, line, and sinker.

“Just take a moment,” Russell said. “Take a moment.”

He walked out the door. Dan guessed that Russell became instantly glad to be away from him. As soon as the door closed Dan looked at the windows to make sure nobody else had come by. These conference windows were much too big for his liking. It didn’t matter. He took out a laser pointer from his left pocket and stood from his seat. His gaze went from sorrow to steel. He spun around and looked up at the security camera. The black round shape watched the room with the oppressive surveillance Dan had gotten used to in this country. He activated the laser pointer and, with a flick of his wrist he pointed the piercing red light at the camera. The pointer’s scarlet gaze did its work, torching the sensor even if he didn’t see or hear the damage. Soon he withdrew the pointer and slipped it back in his pocket. Now, hidden from Big Brother’s stare he became free to enact the next step in the plan.

He pulled out a short and black inline transmitter. He bent under the table and plugged it into the large and dusty monitor. Next he pulled out a tiny, flat and round receiver. He looked at the portrait of Ishiro Serizawa on the wall between the stupidly massive windows. He stepped around the table, but as he approached it he found himself wondering when Russell would return. This was his only chance to plant a bug in this place. He paused in his tracks and stared at the door. Then he peered out the window next to it, expecting Russell to appear. Insidious assumptions crept into his mind. Surely Russell wouldn’t take very long to get cups of coffee. Surely the deputy director would open that door right as he removed the picture. Surely someone else might be in the shadows, watching-

Enough. He was sliding toward panic and he had no time for that. Dan grabbed the picture frame and lifted it from the nail it hung on. He pressed the receiver into the moon gray back of the picture frame and placed it on the nail again. Serizawa’s face hung on the wall as if it had never been touched.

The door opened. He kept himself from flinching and gazed at the picture as Russell came in.

The man placed two cups of coffee on the table. “Needed a closer look at him, huh?” Russell asked.

Dan glanced back at him. “Yeah,” he said. “He was… something.”

“One of the greatest minds I’ve ever known,” Russell said, taking a sip from his cup. “I didn't always see eye to eye with him, but I respected the hell out of his conviction.”

Dan caught on to the way Russell talked. He no longer talked like he would talk to a subordinate. His voice had become friendly. Relatable. Leaving was an option, but what Russell said rubbed him just a tiny bit the wrong way.

“Conviction,” Dan repeated. “Maybe with these Titans I suppose. But I can’t help noticing a blind spot.”

“Come again?” Russell asked.

“A blind spot,” Dan repeated as he ambled around to Russell’s side of the table. “As far as nukes are concerned, anyway.”

Russell drank his coffee and shook his head. “He did what he had to.”

Dan picked up his coffee. He kept from bristling at the words what he had to. “You know,” he began. “There were three sisters who moved into the same house together in Japan decades ago. Eventually, one of them had to leave because of her job overseas. She left in August of 1945.”

Russell lowered his cup from his lips as the realization flooded into his eyes.

Dan continued. “She was my mother. Her sisters died in the bombing while she was in safety, but she has never forgotten that day. I wasn’t alive back then, but I won’t forget that day either.”

As Russell stood frozen next to his laptop Dan left the room with his coffee. He left it bugged just as Ben wanted it.

The day took too long to go by. Only after his shift ended did Dan realize he was a tiny bit afraid of the mission ahead. He entered his car and drove off site. Once Outpost 45 retreated out of sight from his rearview mirrors he decided to call Ben. He lived at the outpost but it wasn’t a good idea to call Ben there. He drove into a random street and parked at the curb in front of a house. He looked at each of his rearview mirrors to watch his surroundings. Yet he knew he didn’t have to. He liked Sisters for its safety. Crime was rare here.

He drew his phone from his pocket. One missed call from Stacy. Whatever. He’d see what his wife wanted after he called Ben.

He dialed Ben. Scratching his beard, he tried to put his home life out of his mind. Stacy would always be there. All the issues at the house would always be there. But Monarch, Adversary, and the excitement that came with them wouldn't always be here.

The dial sound stopped as Ben picked up the phone. “Are you able to talk?” Ben asked.

“Oh yeah,” Dan said. “I’m secure. I’ve gotten a HEAV.”

“Monarch gave you a HEAV?”

“Yeah! Well… well no,” Dan clarified, wanting to be accurate. “Orders got passed down. They want me to fly a HEAV into Devil’s Cave.”

“The same place they wish to personally investigate?” Ben asked.

“Yep,” Dan answered. He had apprised Ben of Monarch’s mission to the Hollow Earth earlier. Unfortunately, Russell had shooed him away before he learned the details of it. “You think there’s some kind of connection?”

“Hard to say,” Ben said in that cryptic, unreadable voice of his.

“What do you think?” Dan asked, hoping the guy would show that he had a pulse. “We could take advantage of it right?”

“What is the activity of the Titan in the cave?” Ben asked.

“As far as I can tell it’s inactive,” Dan said. “I haven’t seen the top brass talk about it since the G-Team’s gravel pit assignment. I’ve not heard the G-Team soldiers talk about it.”

“But Russell and Guillerman want to send a drone down there,” Ben said. “So their attention is on the Titan. And now they want to send you down there. Will you be monitored?”

“I’ve been told I won’t be monitored. And they don’t have a schedule for this thing yet. It’s probably gonna be a while before they actually have me fly the HEAV down there.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Dan decided to fill that silence. “There’s something else. The Interpersonal Division. They’ve shown up.”

“Then be careful at the outpost, Daniel.”

“I know. I know.”

“Make sure you’re not followed,” Ben went on.

“Yeah,” Dan said. “I keep hearing about Flynn and that one grunt of his. Derek, I think.”

“Keep an ear out.” Ben advised. “And make sure all your actions are unimpeachable. We do not act until the rest of us regroup in Milwaukie. I will call you when I conduct the meeting, so be ready.”

Dan nodded. “I look forward to it. By the way, Flynn and his men don’t know about me. They haven’t paid me any attention at all.”

“And you need to keep it that way,” Ben said. “Clock in on time. Look every person you come across in the eye. Unimpeachable, Daniel.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll be Meryl Streep to these assholes,” Dan said. “Anyway I bugged Russell’s laptop. Like you wanted.”

“It took you long enough.”

Dan couldn’t help but smile to himself. “See you soon, Ben.”

With that he hung up. He could understand Ben’s apprehension. If Monarch tried something in the Hollow Earth, it could set off the Titan and cause it to go on a rampage. Adversary could stop Monarch by flying a HEAV into the cavern and intercepting them. Flynn being around would complicate that plan, but so long as Flynn left him unmolested Dan still held the cards.

Chapter 19: Hornet's Nest

Summary:

All of Adversary meets up on the eve of their mission. Sandra struggles with her worries for Victor.

It had been nine days since Romano left the hospital. The mission to the Hollow Earth had come on its way. Danny had texted the rest of the group that he was scheduled to fly a HEAV into Devil’s Cave tomorrow. It was also the same day Monarch’s mission to the same cave would go down. Adversary would be at the cave to stop Monarch with the HEAV.

Music rang in its triumphant manner through the Jeep Patriot. Sandra rolled up her window. She looked over at the driver’s seat, smiling at Victor. Wind blew through the open window at the back. She looked over her shoulder at her German Shepherd, Ian, whose relaxed mouth hung open out of the window. Sandra had given him Instagram fame, showing him off in two of her recent posts.

She turned around and found herself moving to the music’s beat. She pumped her fist in the air along with the rhythm. It had been nine days since Romano had been discharged from the hospital. They drove on the busy street away from her apartment.

“You ever think,” Sandra said over the music. “What if we were a famous celebrity group in L.A.?”

Victor chuckled in his hilariously diplomatic way. “I haven’t, actually.”

“Like, imagine if we were riding a limo right now,” she went on. “People outside wishing they’re one of us.”

A look came over Victor, the shadow of a guilty memory. “My sister used to fantasize like that.”

Sandra’s face became a slight frown. She laid a comforting arm on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”

Victor shrugged. “That’s what everyone always says. But I’m the one who convinced her to go on that cruise.”

“Anyone else would’ve done that in your position,” Sandra insisted. His green eyes met hers. “Eyes on the road, champ,” she said.

Victor sighed, and he did it in a way that brought pain to her chest. Sandra couldn’t blame him, as his sister was a touchy subject. She had been on a cruise unlucky enough to set sail right before the Mass Awakening. The entire ship, along with all its passengers, had never been found. Right now, Sandra had to stop him from sliding toward guilt. “What was her favorite episode of Skyless Reality?” she asked.

Color flooded into Victor’s face again as he took the bait. He frowned in thought. Then his eyes widened as if a lightbulb came on in his mind. “Other Worlds”.

Sandra nodded. “That’s a good episode. What’s your favorite?”

Victor finally smiled again, and she swore it was pleasant enough to bring world peace. “Customer Service,” he answered.

Sandra laughed out loud. “What? You know that’s the one where they run a bunch from the monsters, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Literally nothing else happened in the episode,” she said.

“Plenty of things happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Sandra asked mockingly. “What ‘things’, mister?”

“They meet Regina and her group,” he said. “They settle into their new life. It’s the transition period.”

“You always like the most boring stuff, dude.” she teased.

“Well,” he said. “Boring stuff’s real.”

“I’m not watching a fictional TV show for real stuff,” she said. “I’m watching it for crazy shit. If I wanted real, I’d be watching a documentary.”

They drew closer to the abandoned warehouse. Maybe the rest of the team was here. Maybe they weren’t. Either way Sandra looked forward to seeing them again. They pulled into the parking lot. Victor brought the car to a halt before they exited. She opened the back door to let Ian out. The dog bounced into the sunlight with a bark and she took his leash. The trio made their way over to the big rectangular warehouse.

The wind picked up, whipping Sandra’s braid aside. It struck her just wrong enough to cause the smile on her face to collapse. Her stride broke, then increased in speed. Ian trotted to catch up. Victor did the same. She risked a glance up and saw the leaves at the tops of trees blowing dramatically. As if a hurricane was coming in. Her heart pounded. The door to the warehouse couldn’t arrive fast enough.
Then the wind died down. She took a deep breath and glanced at Victor.

“You good, Vic?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You?”

She nodded vigorously as they reached the door. She knocked on the door. The cheerful echo of Erica’s voice came from within. “Password please!”

Victor sighed.

“You better let us in, Erica,” she said while laughing. The door swung open and the blonde hair swept aside as Erica turned to them. She gasped at Ian before beckoning them in. The dog’s paws flew up as he did his overzealous version of a greeting. Sandra rubbed his neck, pulling him off her.

“Did ya miss me?” Erica asked in a baby voice, petting Ian’s neck.

“He missed you the second you left my apartment,” Sandra said.

They strolled for a while before turning a corner to go down a hallway. The battleship painting remained, and so did the outline of the door. But this time the door appeared clearer to her. Erica opened it and they pushed into the room. The sounds of everyone’s chatter rushed into her. Erica ran off to greet Martin who stood in a corner. Sandra led Ian as she and Victor strolled over to a long and dark orange couch. Sandra let out a triumphant sigh as she gazed around at the group. Her squadron.

Erica sauntered across the room with Martin. They conversed about something. In a dark corner, Walker leaned forward in his chair, sharpening his knife on a flat stone. He held something in his teeth that she couldn’t quite see. Abby sat at a table with her laptop out. Ren sat next to her, talking to her about something.

“Ay, Vic! Sandra!” Romano called. He came over to them, a beanie on his head, water bottles in his hands, and a smile on his face. Victor got up so Sandra followed suit.

“How’s it going?” Victor asked. Romano tossed one of the bottles to him. He tossed one to Sandra and she stuck out her hands to catch it. Luckily she grabbed it as soon as it landed in her palms.

“It’s all good,” Romano said, sauntering over to them with a slight limp. He’d had it since leaving the hospital. Ian bounded to him. “Hey big guy,” he ruffled the dog’s fur.
Erica came over. “Hey Sandra, you should sit back. Lemme give you a shoulder massage.”

From behind Erica, Martin laughed into his fist and gave Sandra a look that said just humor her. Sandra shrugged and sat on the couch. She took the leash off of Ian. He sat by her feet. The blonde got behind her and began rubbing her shoulders.

“Did you see the texts from Danny?” Erica asked from somewhere above her.

Sandra nodded. “Yeah. The plan, right? It’s nuts.”

Erica’s delicate fingers sank into the contours of her shoulders. “We need to do it,” the blonde said. “You know what Monarch’s project could mean.”

“Oh, we should definitely do it. I didn’t say we shouldn’t,” Sandra clarified. “I’m on.”

“Do we know exactly what Monarch wants to do in that cavern?” Victor asked.

“Nope,” Romano cut in. “Dan didn’t hear all the details cause of Russell. He got spotted.”

“Honestly,” Victor said. “Us following Monarch into the cavern is actually nuts. Dad would flip out if he knew I was doing it.”

“Your dad?” Sandra asked.

“Yeah,” Victor said. “He’s wanted to be a vigilante. He thinks I’m not cut out for it, though.” He frowned as he said it.

“You’re so tense.” Erica said as she massaged Sandra’s shoulders. That surprised her. She frowned, wondering why she’d even be tense.

“When’s Dan gonna bring the flying thing?” Sandra asked. It was always easy to forget the name of the rocket vehicles Monarch had now.

“The HEAVs?” Romano said. “Might not matter, to be honest. Ben’s kinda getting cold feet.”

“What?” Sandra gasped. Erica’s hands lifted from her shoulders.

“Yeah, he just told me.”

Sandra got up and swept over to Ren. Victor and Erica followed her.

She rapped her knuckle on the table where he and Abby sat. “Ren, I mean Ben, are you seriously reconsidering?” Sandra asked.

Ren’s arms rested on the table. Abby typed on her laptop beside him. He took a deep, thinking breath before looking up at Sandra.

“There has been… a complication.”

“What complication?” Victor asked.

“The Interpersonal Division is in play.” Ren said.

Victor’s eyes widened. Rapid footsteps approached. “What?” Romano said. “You mean Flynn, right? That dude’s shown up?”

“But they don’t know we attacked them,” Sandra said. “How could they have gotten involved? Did Danny actually see them?”

Ren nodded. “He has seen Flynn Grayer himself. His soldiers too.”

Romano shook his head. “We gotta pull out.”

“Are you kidding me?” Erica exclaimed. “The powers that be are so close to dooming us all. We have to stop Monarch before they awaken who knows what in that hell world.” Her voice became more desperate as she talked.

Sandra understood her point. Titans came from the Hollow Earth, and if Monarch gave a single shit about humanity, they’d leave it alone. Going into these places and riling up the creatures would doom a lot of innocents. If people could go into the tunnels, then things could crawl out as well.

A set of boots strode over. Sandra almost flinched at Walker coming over. “So what?” he asked. “Flynn showing up doesn’t change shit.”

“You know what his people are capable of.” Ren said.

“Ben’s got a point,” Romano said. He still slightly favored his left leg. “These jerks could burn your house down while you sleep and make it look like an accident.”

“They won’t burn shit,” Martin said. “If they try anything we expose them. I dare them to try something.”

“You’re seeing red,” Ren told Martin. “Don’t let rage cloud your judgment. Things may be safer if I call Daniel off.”

“Yeah,” Romano said. “We can wait for Flynn to fuck off and then start this again.”

“They’re gonna send Dan into the cave with or without us,” Sandra said. “What, should we just not take that golden-ass opportunity and stop Monarch?”

Erica uttered a shriek and Sandra saw with some alarm that she tangled her fingers in her own hair and pulled. “Don’t you all see? They're trying to break down the door to darkness!”

“Erica,” Martin scolded.

Her hands came down from her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said. “But we cannot quit. This Devil’s Cave thing? It’s evil. Even the name of the place, do you think it’s coincidence? Wrong! It’s evil.”

When the blonde woman finally quieted, Walker spoke up in his gruff tone. “Listen, just cause Flynn and them assholes came around don’t mean they’re onto us.”

Ren looked to him. “Why else would they have come?”

“Could just be precaution,” Walker said. “If they knew about us, Dan would’ve heard somethin’ about that.”

Ren nodded, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Ben I dunno if you get how serious this is,” Sandra said. “But Monarch waking up some monster under the ground might screw all of us over. It might screw over entire towns. We’re literally the only people on Earth who can stop them.”

As she spoke Erica pointed an enthusiastic finger at her, smiling as if Sandra was the only one who understood. But Sandra focused on Ren. His eyes filled with a knowing that reassured her. But she pushed it further.

“The Titan down there,” Sandra said. “Megarus or whatever, imagine if it woke up and destroyed Sisters. Imagine watching that on the news knowing we could’ve stopped it. Imagine if it came for us.”

Ren nodded in a solemn way that was strange for him. She could see him beginning to get her picture.

“If you think about it,” Abby said. “This helps Monarch too. If we stop them from waking up Megaguirus, then it doesn’t destroy their outpost.”

Sandra shrugged. She didn’t give a shit about helping Monarch. But Ren finally seemed convinced.

“We have a head start on them,” he said. Then he looked over at Abby. “Look for alternative places for us to meet. Preferably out-of-state.”

“So the plan’s on?” Sandra asked. Ren nodded.

Abby continued typing. “You know,” she said. “We should be careful too. Driving a HEAV into the significantly-sized cave system might wake up Megaguirus and any other creatures down there.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out.” Walker said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Sandra became mortified as she accidentally met his eyes. But his gaze softened. Then he stalked away.

“I just suggested we throw ourselves into the Hollow Earth,” Sandra said to Victor. “Your dad would probably think I’m crazy.” That got a chuckle out of him. They turned and headed back to the couch. No dog rested at its foot. Sandra looked around, trying to find him. No way could he have left the room.

Then she saw him. “No way,” she murmured. Victor followed her gaze.

“Oh…” he said.

Over in the dark corner, Ian wagged his tail as Walker’s hands stroked his fur. The dog sat down beside Walker’s chair. “Good dog,” he grunted.

Victor went and sat on the couch. Sandra looked at Ian. Going over to him would mean having to talk to Walker. She couldn’t forget that he had threatened to kill her before. She bit her lip as she plucked up the courage to do so. Victor had been right. Walker was one of them. He was her people. She faltered, but stepped toward him. His arm muscles flexed as he moved to grab his knife. The jet black tattoos contorted along with them. He sharpened the knife as Sandra approached. Walker looked up, his dark eyes meeting her own.

“Hey,” Sandra said. “I probably should thank you. You know, for what you did at the gravel pit.”

“Alright,” he said, remaining silent. The seconds went by. Sandra racked her mind for something else to say.

“Can I sit?” she asked.

He shrugged, still looking down at his knife. “Sure.”
With that, Sandra grabbed a wooden chair and slid it in front of him. She sat down. Walker’s eyes flashed at her for a moment and his shoulders tensed like a feral wild animal. In a fraction of an instant he returned to sharpening his knife.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said. “You saved Victor and I before. I barely had any idea what I was doing out there. I guess I broke.”

Walker paused and looked up at her. “Nah,” he grumbled. “You’re smarter than you look.”

She raised an eyebrow at the sudden compliment from Walker of all people. “Excuse me?” she said.

He swiped his knife on the flat stone again. “What you told Ben. You got the big picture, you know? I’m just sayin’, the group needs someone who can see the future ‘n all that.”

Sandra sat back. Her mind reeled. No one had told her something like that in a long time. She was used to bog standard compliments about her hair, her makeup, or some other shallow thing. From what she remembered, the last person to give her compliments about her actual words and actions was her therapist. She had to go back for another session. It had been too long.

“You just gonna stare at me?” Walker asked, breaking her out of her stupor. “Or you wanna chat?”

Sandra shook her head. “I just wanted to thank you for saving us. It couldn’t have been easy having to shoot that lunatic.”

Walker looked down at the ground, letting the knife hang from his fingers. He gripped it again and looked at her. “It was easy,” he said. “But he wasn’t the real asshole. The others are.”

Sandra frowned. “The others?”

“I mean the ones up top,” he said. “Russell and ‘em. They’re the problem.”

“Well yeah,” she said. “But the ones not on top tried to come after us too. The soldiers and whatnot, they’re dangerous too.”

“The soldiers are just followin’ orders.” Walker insisted.

Sandra kept herself from scoffing. “Like the Gestapo,” she said. “No, they’re all responsible. They know exactly what they’re contributing to.”

Walker’s familiar glare returned. “That’s bullshit.”

“Oh really?” Sandra asked.

Ian got up, licked Walker’s pant leg, then trotted over to Sandra. She bent over and drew her affectionate fingers over his neck. He put his paws up and she hugged him. His paws lightly batted at her chest. Walker watched them with interest in his eyes.

“What’s his name?” he asked.

“Ian.” Sandra buried her face in his shoulder fur. The dog huffed in her ear.

“If he bit someone, who you think they’d blame?” Walker asked. “Him or his owner?”

Sandra pulled her face away from Ian’s fur. She hadn’t thought of it like that. But surely mercenaries on the ground weren't just dogs of war. They were free thinking agents just like everyone else.

“You gonna sit here and tell me that the mercenaries don't matter?” Sandra asked. Despite having her good dog between her arms, contempt beat darkly against her thoughts. “Really? They chose their position. They could’ve just walked away. You think the Monarch directors could do any damage without their goons?”

“Naw, they can’t,” Walker admitted. Then his sullen voice took on an edge of anger. “They just sit in some comfy room, thumb up their asses, giving orders to soldiers they ain’t ever gonna see.”

Sandra thought about her own imagery of the faceless Monarch executives sitting around a table. They ordered the fate of the world. The goons with guns executed those orders. For once, Sandra wondered which was the worse act.

But Walker went on. “Ain’t nobody talk about the assholes that stashed them bombs to wake up the Titans. They talk about the bitch who gave them assholes the order.”

“Emma Russell,” Sandra said in a whisper. She knew her own version of the Mass Awakening. She knew Victor’s version as well. She wondered what Walker’s version looked like and who he lost in the event.

“Dan said Russell gives orders to Grayer,” Walker said. “The only guy with more authority than Russell is Guillerman. You ask me, them three are the ones to blame.”

“But especially Russell and Guillerman,” Sandra said. “Because they’re the top directors.”

Walker nodded and stood up. Ian went over to him to sniff him up and down. Walker knelt and rubbed his head as an actual smile sprouted on the man’s face.

Sandra couldn’t help but grin. “He’s liking you.”

The dog then rolled over, showing his belly to Walker. He rubbed Ian’s belly. The dog’s mouth lolled, hanging open and panting. Walker made kissing noises at him. Sandra felt the urge to take a picture of this surreal moment. She laughed and looked over at Victor seated on the couch several yards away. He watched them, smiling. Walker stood back up and Ian got to his paws.

“I gotta take a piss,” Walker said before leaving.

Ian padded over to Sandra and she petted him. But having seen Victor watching them reminded her of her dream last night. He had been in it. They had their extravagant beach home. They had run together on the sand, free as a pair of wild horses. But then she had turned to see him struggling and flailing in the ocean, having seemingly teleported there. He had been too far away for her to reach him and he had drowned. Sandra didn’t believe in visions but that dream had been vivid. Things were going so well with Adversary that she wondered about the angles she hadn’t considered. Perhaps the seed for the hurt that would happen had already been planted. Abby’s words floated in her memory. Flying a vehicle into the cave could wake up the dragonfly monster that dwelled there. What if Adversary woke it up rather than Monarch? What would it do once roused?

Before she could think more about it the others started to come toward Ren’s table. Victor got up from the couch. He turned and beckoned her over. She sauntered over as Ian followed her. Walker opened the door, returning from his bathroom break. He came as well.

“Let’s talk getaway cars,” Romano said as the rough circle formed. “We’re gonna need them. Especially for Danny.”

Sandra let the camaraderie carry her away. She kicked the silly thoughts of doom to the recesses of her mind. Her therapist had been right. Dreams were just mixed-up movies created by the brain. They didn’t mean anything more. This mission, that was something more.

“I’m driving one of the getaway cars,” Sandra said.

Ren pulled a piece of paper from his pants pocket. “We only need one car. Walker will drive it.”

Sandra wanted to be useful. “It’s gotta be a car that fits everyone, doesn’t it? Or multiple cars at least.”

“Who’s coming?” Romano asked.

“I’ll decline from participating.” Abby said.

“You stay if you want to,” Martin said. “I’m going.”

Ren cut in. “Anyone who wants to go to Sisters, raise your hand.”

Martin, Erica, Victor, Walker, and Sandra raised their hands high.

“Okay,” Ren said. “That makes seven of us. We must have two cars. Victor, you and I will bring our cars. Walker, you drive my own to the cave to pick me up after the mission is complete.”

“Can I drive Victor’s?” Sandra blurted out. Ren looked at her, hesitating in thought.

“I can drive Victor’s car just fine.” Martin stated.

Ren looked from Martin to Sandra and back to Martin. “Sandra,” Ren said. “You will drive Victor’s car.”

“Remember,” Victor said. “As soon as you see our HEAV go straight up into the air, drive down the road to the cave.”

Sandra put on a casual smile to play it off, but she was overjoyed. Then she realized what it meant for her to drive Victor’s car. Her smile fell. “You’re going in the HEAV? Into the cave?”

“Yeah,” Victor said as if unaware of the inherent danger. “So what?”

“Why not just let Ren and Danny go in?” she asked.

Victor pressed his lips. “I wanna be a part of this. This is important.”

Sandra remembered the dream. She recalled Victor’s arms flailing above water as the current tugged him from below. She remembered the feeling of running through molasses as she tried to get to him.

“This is a bad idea,” she said.

“Why?” Victor asked. That hurt look she always hated to see filled his face. “What about me joining Ben is a bad idea? Why is it okay for Ben and Danny but not okay for me?”

Sandra sensed a bruised ego in those words. A feather touch of unease came when she remembered what his father said. She picked her next words carefully. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “I just get the feeling something bad’s gonna happen if you go into that cave with them.”

“You ain’t his momma,” Walker said.

Sandra sighed. She couldn’t argue with that. They discussed the rest of the plan. Ren showed them a printed map of the area around Devil’s Cave. Ren, Victor, and Danny would fly their HEAV into the cave before Monarch’s mission. The vehicle would protect them from any gravity wells they could encounter. They’d wait for Monarch to come down and once they came, they’d stop them. The terrain right beside the cave would be unforgiving but the road over a hundred yards away was smooth and drivable. Sandra stroked Ian under his chin as the planning went on. They’d drive to Sisters with signal flares in case the getaway drivers needed to signal the HEAV riders after the mission. The plan wasn’t foolproof but it was the best they could do with what they had available.

The day passed pretty quickly. As the Adversary members began to pack their stuff Sandra approached Ren, who sat alone at the table. She sat down next to him.

“Do you ever get worried?” she asked. “I mean really. Do you ever feel unsure about shit?”

The activity of zipping bags and shifting feet occurred around them. “Do you ask this for me?” Ren asked. “Or for you?”

“Both,” Sandra said unflinchingly. “I want us being on the same page.”

“We are.” he said.

A suspicion rose in her mind, strange, unbidden, and powerful. She recognized and acted on it.

“Maybe we are,” she said. “Monarch took something from both of us after all.”

Ren narrowed his eyes on her. “What do you mean?”

Sandra glanced up in thought before looking back at him. “I mean it’s personal for you,” she said. “Just like me. They took your dad. They took my friends.”

Once she uttered that dad word his facial expression changed. He balked at her, then glared. Her confidence threatened to die right then.

“Don’t.” Ren said.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t,” he repeated like a single low piano key. “Don’t say another word.”

Sandra nodded and avoided his eyes. His glare didn’t waver yet Sandra couldn’t help herself. “I’m just saying I get it. And I’m with you. So let’s just finish this.”

Ren looked at her, wearing either a calculating or pissed off stare. He gave a small nod before getting up and sweeping away. She stepped over to the couch and put her leash on Ian. He wasn’t going to Sisters with them. Instead, the dog would be dropped off at her apartment for Charlie to look after.
She met Victor at the door. His backpack slung behind him, he put his arm around Sandra’s shoulder. She smiled as they walked out. Adversary strolled through the hallway together, their footsteps sounding like music in her ears. Something other than fury for Monarch inhabited her blood when they moved as one. Whatever happened at Sisters wouldn’t be easy or simple. It would be a fight.

Chapter 20: Mercy

Summary:

As a day of reckoning draws closer, Madison tries to get her father to choose mercy over wrath.

In a maintenance room, Mark’s blood pressure must have been through the roof. He put his head in his hands, shielding his eyes for a precious few minutes from the catastrophe materializing on the screen in front of him. Riley moved the mouse and shifted the map. The bioacoustic and radiation signatures of the meganula had spread. The swarms had become even bigger.

“Son of a bitch,” Riley said. “If we don’t contain this soon it’s not gonna stay localized here. It could spread to the rest of Oregon, possibly south Cali…”

“Our sleepy MUTO is still reproducing,” Mark said.

“They’ve gotten bolder.” Riley said. The look in his eyes told him that a eureka moment had just arrived.

“What do you mean?” Mark asked.

“It’s not just increased reproduction. Hear me out. Whenever I get ants in my house,” Riley said. “It always starts with a few. Two or three. Soon enough, it’s hundreds of them. The meganula that appeared at first? They were just the scouts. Now they’re bringing out the entire colony.”

Mark put it together and it made perfect sense. Lack of resistance had emboldened the scout meganula. As a result the rest of their six-legged friends figured it was safe to leave the nest. The air conditioning in the room shut off. Mark wished for a fan.

“By the way,” Riley said. “The riff raff is still outside.”

“Christ, tell me about it,” Mark said. The protest outside the outpost had been going for hours. The townsfolk had been incensed by the increasing meganula numbers. He had already seen them lined up at the gates, picket signs and all, calling for action from him and Monarch.

“Grayer’s still offering to disperse them,” Riley said.

Mark shook his head. “Absolutely not,” he said. The last thing he needed was for the Interpersonal Division to intimidate a crowd of innocents. They had done enough.

“Don’t worry,” Riley said. “There is good news.”

“I know about the drones already.” Mark told him. The drones had arrived and would be flown into Devil’s Cave tomorrow. The information they would capture had a chance of helping Monarch contain this madness. The drone would also help them contain that other madness, though Mark preferred not to think about that one.

One of the security cameras had shorted out recently. Mark decided he’d go to the security room and check on the progress of fixing that camera. If not, they’d have to replace it. He bid Riley farewell then went on his way. As he marched through the hall he called Coleman on his cell phone. It rang for a while before going to voicemail.

“I need you here tomorrow. You’ll be in play.” Mark sent the message and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

He went into the lounge and looked inside the small conference room. Maddie’s voice rang out to him. “Dad!”

He turned to see her hurry to him from another hallway. Instinctively he glanced at the chairs and saw random people sitting in them. Some of them wore the silver patches of the Interpersonal Division.

Mark strode to her, meeting her gaze. He walked past her and beckoned her to follow before leading her into a random room. He closed the door. The muted pain and stress on her face told him most of what he needed to know.

“What’s wrong, Maddie?”

“Grayer,” she said. “He’s planning something. I want to know what it is.”

He had to put his foot down. “It doesn’t concern you. Please, you already got to talk to the man. I can’t involve you in it anymore.”

“Dad, I really don’t want to have this same conversation again,” she said. “I’m not dumb. I know he’s planning something with those people he showed on the screens. Ren Serizawa’s group, right?”

Part of Mark figured that letting Maddie come to that meeting was a mistake. She had become wound up like she always did when any problem reared its ugly head. But he supposed he had asked for this the moment he had brought her into Monarch. What a great job he had done there. Before he could think of some response that wasn’t something he had told her a million times she spoke again.

“Whatever they’re going to do,” Maddie said. “You need to stop them before it gets too bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever they’re gonna do is gonna happen because of me.” Madison said.

Mark almost flinched in shock. Her brows furrowed slightly with that aged look. Her gaze was sharp and knowing in a way that seemed far beyond her years. A power came from that gaze, hitting him in waves too immense to be swayed by any magical phrases he could conjure up. But he had to try.

“You’re not responsible,” Mark said. “No, the responsibility is all on the rest of us.”

“I showed him the way,” Madison said. “If I hadn’t told him about Ren he wouldn’t be plotting against them right now.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over this,” Mark said. “Look, no matter what you told him maybe he would still be going after them right now. Maybe nothing would be different.”

Madison blinked at him as he realized his mistake. “So he is going after them.” she said.

He sighed, wishing he hadn’t confirmed it for her. He disliked thinking about this at all. But it was too late to take it back. He had gotten knee-deep in it now. “Yes,” he said. “He is. And he’s most likely going to catch them.”

Madison nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”

Before Mark could feel relief that this was over, she continued. “You should find them. They might surrender if you give them the chance.”

He took a couple seconds to consider it. Then he swallowed the shreds of guilt he had.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mark said. “Madison, they’re dangerous. They’ve killed people. At least one of them worked with a man who destroyed Hong Kong. And you’re asking me to talk to these people?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Why not?”

“You don’t need to feel bad about what happens to them,” Mark said. “They chose this.”

“Dad, maybe some of them didn’t have a choice,” Madison pointed out. “Maybe one or two of them were forced into it. You can give them a choice.”

The expression on her face deepened. Sorrow sprang up in her eyes. But this wasn’t the sorrow of a child. The less he saw her as a normal kid the more a small, fluttering panic came alive in his mind. Beneath this he remembered a time not so long ago when Emma had forced her to join a terrorist group. She had gone into hiding with her mother to avoid Monarch. Would that make Maddie a terrorist too?
He thought of the girl. Sandra. From her Instagram picture she had struck him as a girl just trying to live her life. Maybe she had been dragged into the vigilante group. What if others had been dragged into the vigilante group?

“You’ve gotta try,” Madison said. “I’d do it myself but…” She trailed off. Mark gave her a reluctant nod. If anyone was going to extend the olive branch to Serizawa’s vigilantes it had to be him.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” he asked. The last thing he wanted was to prove to Maddie that he was good for nothing except leaving her when things got tough. He had done enough of that.

Madison’s eyes retained that sharp and frightening look. “I can handle myself,” she said, her voice strained but under control.

Mark blinked and searched her face for any feeling of betrayal. Yet all he saw was that terrible adult, somehow alien expression. The aura that surrounded her was sincere in a way that seemed beyond her years. He saw no intention in her to be a part of the action this time around. This time, she had asked him to go. He wasn’t running from her.

He glanced toward the door, breathing freely for the first time in the conversation. He faced her again. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She gave a nod. Not a child’s big-eyed, hasty nod of understanding but an adult’s calm, measured nod of approval. Nodding back, he turned and headed out.

Mark sighed. No going back now. He began brainstorming what he’d say to the vigilante group. He’d have to speak to Ren directly but also address the vigilantes who weren’t too far gone. If he could reach just one of them his plan would be a riveting success. If not, well, whatever happened next wouldn't be pretty. Mark pulled out his cell phone to call G-Team. He needed to head over to Devil’s Cave with them. And it wasn’t just for Megaguirus.

Chapter 21: Seal of God

Summary:

As Adversary descends the Hollow Earth to stop Monarch and meet the meganula in their own lair, Ben relies on the ORCA Z to keep them safe.

"And out of the smoke locusts came down on the earth and were given power like that of scorpions of the earth. They were told not to harm the grass of the earth or any plant or tree, but only those people who did not have the seal of God on their foreheads.” -Revelations 9

Ben Tanaka remembered the dream. It had been a dream about his last days as Ren Serizawa.

He stepped outside of the abandoned house. The door hinge gave a scream as he closed it behind him. With his hands in his pockets he stalked toward his car. He scanned his surroundings as he did so. Behind him the door hinge screamed again. He glanced back. Sandra stood there at the top of the small flight of steps like a confused puppy. She narrowed her eyes in curiosity.

“What are you going to get?” she asked.

He turned and took a few steps in her direction. “Let’s call it… a gift from Hong Kong.” He said. Apparently that satisfied the girl. She nodded and ducked back inside, closing the door with a slam.

Ben sighed and began the walk to his car. He reached up with his left hand to scratch the itch on his forehead. Few people ever noticed the scars. But he did every time he looked in the mirror. Back when the scars had been fresher he had acquired the delectable freedom that came with being dead to the world. Eternity had opened to him then, endless time to plot and recruit new allies. The dream he remembered had been about this time.

He opened his car’s trunk. Adversary, his group, waited for him within the abandoned house. Not much surprised him, but he had to admit Sandra had become far more loyal and cooperative than he could’ve imagined. Despite having no practical experience she had been more than willing to make this mission happen. So many in her position would mope, unwilling to do anything to help themselves. Yet she was different. She had initiative and it translated beautifully into Adversary. Victor trusted her after the fight at the gravel pit. If Victor trusted someone, they were as good as gold.

The large briefcase sat before him. As he thought about the treasure inside he reached up with his fingers to feel his left earlobe. Ben touched the soft, round hole. He gingerly took the large briefcase in his hands and dragged it to the edge of his trunk. He wrapped his arms around it and lifted it out. He’d guard the precious cargo inside with his life. Everyone had seen it except for Sandra. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction to the ORCA Z. Ben gripped the briefcase handle and closed the trunk. A car turned down their street and sped toward them. He watched it out of the corner of his eye. Luckily it drove on, the occupant likely unaware.

He strode up the steps to the door. It opened before he even touched it. Walker’s stern face greeted him. Ren stepped past him and heard the door close at his back. Walker stalked past Ben and joined the rest of the group. Water dripped from an unseen leaking pipe. Only a single light bulb in the living room worked. In the dim light Sandra, Erica, Martin, Walker, and Victor all gathered. Victor handed a small box to Sandra. She opened it and a reflection of light glinted from the object inside. Her face lit up and she said something to him before hugging him. The chatter died down as Ben approached them.

Some of them sat on the couches. Others stood. All of them looked at Ben. Their eyes asked for guidance. Ben had learned to carry the weight of their dependence. There was no getting used to it, only making room for it. He placed his briefcase on a nearby counter and opened it like he would a laptop computer. He contained his bubbling pride as the lights on the device came on. The parts of the machine clicked together in that perfect way only he had the sense for.

The ORCA Z came to life. But it didn’t let out its throbbing, pulsing rhythms.

“That thing ain’t gonna go off right now,” Walker said. “Will it?”

Ben shook his head. The time hadn’t come for that yet. This hadn’t been just a gift. He had known this device for a long time, having once held it as Ren. The mecha had failed him, but the ORCA Z hadn’t. It hadn’t been given the chance it deserved. Maybe it wouldn’t get the chance to shine today, but he’d have it if he needed it.

“I will take this with us,” he said as he looked back at the rest. “As insurance against the Titans down there.”

Sandra flinched. Her face became a child’s, looking at him with huge brown and frightened eyes. “I thought humans shouldn’t talk to these things. Isn’t that what the crazed Monarch director lady tried to do?”

Ben was taken aback. “I know,” he said. “It isn’t wise to talk to demons. But it is wise to tell them off, Sandra.” He looked at Erica. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“There’s no other way.” Erica said in agreement.

Sandra took a step toward Ben, her shocked stare turning into a glare. Victor put his hands out. “It’s alright,” he said. “We’re not gonna do anything with it unless we need to.”

The girl cast him a fiery glance. Then she looked around at everyone else. Nobody made a move to support her. She took another step towards Ben. “Let’s go,” Ben said. It was time to get to Devil’s Cave. Tired of this charade, he closed the ORCA Z and locked his briefcase before leading the group out.

But as Adversary followed Ben to their cars Sandra’s mouth continued. “You’re fighting fire with gasoline. We both know how this ends. The same way it did seven years ago!”

Her one-track mind disappointed him. They had come so close, closer than they’d dared to wish for, and now she had cold feet about it. He ignored her and put the ORCA Z into his trunk. He slipped into his car’s driver seat. The passenger side door and rear doors opened as well.

Walker slid in next to him. “Vic’s with the girl,” he said. “He’ll get her to come around.”

As Ben began the long drive to the mountains he glanced at Walker and allowed himself to grin. “Are you vouching for her?”

Walker shrugged. Ben nodded. Walker was a man of few words and Ben liked it that way. It gave him space to think when he was with him. More importantly, it made the ranger a man of action. He did the dirty jobs.

He entered the highway. Looking in the rearview mirror Ben made sure Victor’s blue car followed them. Vic’s mouth moved and he frowned several times. In the passenger seat beside him sat Sandra. She looked far more animated. Her braid flew about as she said her piece in their intense conversation. Ben almost sighed in relief at not being there for it.

Despite her go-getter aspect, Sandra acted like a petulant child at times. She could be reckless. But that was fine because Victor had a way with her. She seemed more disciplined when she was around him. Steady. And that was when her true strengths came out. Clearly, Walker had seen those strengths and warmed up to her.

The hills in front of them grew. The sun rose high in the sky. The verdant green of forests and grasslands replaced the brown and gray buildings. In the backseat, Martin spoke. “This won’t do a thing against Monarch. Not a thing.”

A proverb came to his mind. “If enough dust accumulates,” Ben said. “It becomes a mountain.” Martin said nothing else. With acts such as the one they were destined to perform in Devil’s Cave, Adversary would become a mountain to Monarch. And Monarch would find it impossible to break that mountain. Ben would see to that.

In truth Ben could see why Sandra worried profusely. If Devil’s Cave was anything like Monarch thought it was, then it was filled with meganula. The last time Adversary had been around the insects they had fought to escape with their lives. And the Titan, Megaguirus, waited for them in the bowels of the subterranean chamber. Yet, Ben knew they’d be okay as long as they went down there in a HEAV. According to Danny, the Monarch biologists studying the meganula believed they were unable to attack their prey if it was inside a vehicle. Something about vehicles stopped them, maybe the metal, maybe the glass, but either way it would be Adversary’s first line of defense.

If Megaguirus launched an attack on the HEAV anyway, the second line of defense would be the ORCA Z. What Sandra had failed to think about was that the ORCA wasn’t only made to provoke Titans. It could also calm them as Emma Russell had calmed Mothra. Monarch believed that the meganula swarm followed the command of Megaguirus. If he used his ORCA to block those auditory commands, it had a good chance of confusing or blindsiding the insects. And he knew for a fact the ORCA Z could slow the impulses of the most voracious of creatures. Back in Hong Kong he had tested it against the Skullcrawlers housed in the Apex complex. It had worked like a magic charm on them. The right tones were capable of stopping them in their tracks, even if only for mere moments.

They left the highway. The road thinned and the trees multiplied. Ben couldn’t stop his palms and fingers from sweating on the steering wheel. Devil’s Cave called to him, but as he drew nearer he pushed away the thoughts of how this could go wrong. He pushed away his doubts about leading his team to that place. He had analyzed this plan top to bottom. Monarch had no idea of their presence. They’d need to work fast to prevent this from changing.

Walker checked his phone. “Dan texted,” he said. “He’s comin’ in that thing.”

“The HEAV.” Ben murmured. There was no turning back now.

Ben turned that fateful turn onto a slender road and followed it uphill. It was hideously thin and curved like a stream. He had no problem navigating the stone path but he worried for Victor’s car. He glanced in the left rear view mirror. Luckily the blue vehicle stayed close behind him. The small clearing in the woods passed him to his right. One of the Three Sisters mountains loomed behind the clearing. Like Walker described, the cave appeared like a single nostril for the stone face to breath through. Nothing moved near the cave except grass which blew in the wind.

The trail led to the left away from the cave. A fork greeted him in the road. He turned and parked, resting his front wheels in the leaf litter. To his right, Victor did the same. Sandra’s face stared around. Her eyes caught his. Ben turned away, stopping the grimace from coming to him as that unwanted memory intruded.

They took your dad. They took my friends.

Ben sighed. Sometimes her mouth frustrated him. His father had never been a part of this mission. He’d never be a part of anything Ben did. That other man, Ren Serizawa, lay in Hong Kong, dead and buried. Ben wasn’t that same scared animal lashing out at his father’s ghost.
Anyway, it didn’t matter what she thought. What he did next would matter. He nodded to Walker and opened his door before emerging from his car. Martin came out of the car too. As if on cue Victor, Sandra, and Erica emerged from the other car. Ben went into his trunk, opened it, and drew out his metal briefcase. He waited for Sandra’s disapproving gaze but it never came. He faced his team as they stood before him.

“Victor and I will go,” he explained. “The rest of you stay around the cars.” Ben turned and pointed in the direction of the cave. “Watch the sky above Devil’s Cave. Once you see the HEAV rise you will come back to the cave to pick us up. Then we leave this place for good.”

The rest of the group nodded. Even Sandra nodded in silence. Good. Victor had reigned her in. She now wore a dark brown vintage watch on her right arm. Ben gave his car keys to Walker. Victor gave his keys to Sandra. Danny would arrive at the cave any minute. Ben waved Victor over and set off on the trek to the cave. As Victor followed him Sandra ran up from behind. Ben stifled his annoyance as she grabbed his hand, covering it with both of her hands. He read the depth of fear in her face.

“You’d better come back.” she said.

Victor only gave her a warm smile. “I will.” he assured her. With that, Sandra released his hand with the reluctance anyone would have letting go of a life raft. Victor turned and headed to Ben. Without another word Ben continued the trek along the road in the direction of the cave. A cool breeze came. Branches and leaves rattled high above his head.

Ben gripped the briefcase tight. Monarch had told Danny he’d be alone in that HEAV, no cameras to monitor him. It seemed an odd thing to send a pilot as green as Danny into the subterranean tunnels on his own. But Ben had seen this before. His old boss, Walter Simmons, had sent him on a mission to test his character without telling him all the details. Perhaps the Monarch bosses had done the same thing.

Flynn Grayer was in play, but there was no way he knew anything. Danny wouldn’t be on a HEAV mission alone if Grayer suspected him. Ben moved aside large branches as they trudged into the grass. The mountain rose tall through the tree cover.

They trekked into the short grass of the clearing just as the soft, yet powerful jet noise came. A few of the tree tops above started blowing. A strange wind tore them to one side. Leaves flew and circled down toward earth. The boxy, blunt nosed, compact craft shot out of the trees. It slowed down and hovered for a minute as the cylinders at the bottom turned vertical. The HEAV lowered toward the ground. Beside Ben, Victor gave a high thumbs up. Inside the HEAV Danny’s bearded face wore a look of trepidation as he completed the landing.

Ben held his briefcase close to his chest as he clambered into the HEAV on Danny’s left. Victor climbed in on the pilot’s right.

“Any news from Monarch?” Ben asked.

Danny nodded. “Russell’s sent drones into the cave.”

“Drones? To do what?” Victor asked.

Danny shrugged. “I couldn’t get the details. Far as I gather, they’re planning something with the Titan down there.”

The smile Victor had before was gone. Now he looked like he wanted to throw up. He noticed Ben looking at him. “Sorry dude, this is just kind of insane.”

“Don’t worry,” Dan said. “I made sure the missiles on this thing are ready to go.”

Ben couldn’t offer much comfort. “We use the missiles to destroy the drones once we find them,” he said. “That’s all we must do. The ORCA will work.” He barely kept the words from dying in his throat as the doubts and questions tumbled forth in his mind. They were nothing but white noise. He pushed the noise aside and opened his briefcase in his lap.

“You gotta activate that just now?” Dan asked. He scratched his short beard.

Ben nodded. “It must be on before we even meet the meganula swarm. Understand?”

Dan didn’t respond. Trepidation appeared in his face again. The white noise of doubts and questions filled his eyes.

“Do you trust me?” Ben asked. Dan nodded. His hand pistoned out and hit the red button that said IGNITION, causing the HEAV to lift toward the cave. The black hole grew bigger as they sailed toward it. As the charcoal black eye of Devil’s Cave greeted them it became obvious that whatever Ben had set in motion would end under the forest.

The temperature dropped as they shot through the small hole and into the tunnel. It was larger than Ben expected, wide enough to comfortably fit three HEAVs. Ben opened the briefcase in his lap, revealing the ORCA Z. The lights and speakers came on. Ben hit several buttons in a row before drawing his fingers across the screen. He knew exactly what signal he had to replicate. He didn’t hold back his grimace as images of his father flashed in his mind. The alpha frequency came on and the ORCA throbbed its strange song. As they journeyed through the earth the ORCA’s sound went through Ben’s chest.

Dan flipped on the headlights. The tunnel twisted and turned. Dan expertly followed the curves. The rock sped by them on all sides. It was like being in a pitch black subway tunnel, the only light coming from the HEAV’s headlights. The tunnel continued forever, yet they never hit gravity inversion. The twisting tunnel walls never became anything other than stone and dirt. Victor pinched his nose shut just as the degenerate, sickly zoo smell rushed in. Ben coughed.

The tunnel snaked on, continuing their lonely journey through the blackness of the earth. The tunnel went straight down. The HEAV followed the path until there was no tunnel anymore. They shot out into a vast space lit in alien yellow hues. For a moment, all sound left Ben’s ears. But his eyes took in everything. It was a cavern bigger than any Ben had ever seen. At least two airports could fit inside. The HEAV dropped downward from stalactites pointing down from the merciless black ceiling. Orange and yellow bioluminescent blobs covered the walls in messy clumps and Ben wondered if they were creatures or fungi. He lowered his eyes to a wall nearest to the HEAV. An odd, vast brown cloak covered the wall. As the HEAV flew away from it the shroud broke off the wall and dissolved into thousands of dragonfly wings. The buzzing sound stuffed its way inside the HEAV and deafened him. The metal and glass that encased him vibrated with the heavy buzzing. The swarm overtook them and swallowed the HEAV. Wings clattered against the vehicle.

“You sure they’re not gonna smell us?” Victor stammered. “What if they see us?”

Ben barely heard him. He mouthed to Victor it’s okay and pointed at the ORCA in his lap. Between that and the apparent inability for the meganula to attack vehicles, they’d remain safe. Yet the column of eagle-sized insects still buzzed and clattered around them. He felt like he had been shrunk and tossed into a swarm of locusts. Dan pointed the HEAV down and pushed it forward but the swarm flowed beneath them so thick that the ground couldn’t be seen. For all they knew, this place didn’t have a bottom.

“Don’t fire!” Ben yelled. The bearded pilot nodded. If he fired even a single missile the meganula swarm would tear them to pieces for sure.

Dan weaved into the droning current of insects. It flowed like a river, carrying the HEAV on a path perhaps etched in each insectile brain, a path through the ancient lair men had no hope of understanding. An opening to the ground yawned below them. Danny shot the HEAV at it. Ben began counting in his mind. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi- and then they came out of the swarm. Yet the buzzing still rang his head like a bell. In the distance was a small waterfall that ran brown and red. It reminded him of lava. The ground came toward them. Things crawled about below, things the size of large dogs.

“Guys! Look!” Victor pointed to the left.

Ben looked out the left window and saw it. Several hundred yards away the wide tower of stone rose high into the dark. The odd glow of yellow crawled down the ancient rock. The tower appeared like a volcano trickling yellow lava down its sides. But it was too straight, too vertical to be a proper mountain. Clouds of meganula flew around the tower in endless circles.

The HEAV slowed down as they came toward the ground. Ben looked around, searching for the drone Monarch had sent inside. Once they destroyed it they could leave this strange place. But he found nothing man made in the light of the dripping stone walls. The ORCA continued to pulse, mixing with the constant drone of the meganula wings above the HEAV. Victor and Dan let out their breaths, perhaps calming a little from the ORCA’s protection. Dan kept the HEAV right above the stone floor, refusing to touch down. Ben was fine with that for now. The things the size of large dogs scurried away into the shadows. Ben couldn’t get a good look at them but they appeared to have round, armored backs.

His ears noticed a new sound joining the ORCA Z’s rhythm and the meganula hum. A great thrumming within the earth reverberated through the massive chamber. Within the HEAV, Ben drew back in his seat as he figured out just what the sound was. A low, alien, insectile hum grew beneath the droning that happened around them. Something other than the meganulas dwelled here. The sound compelled Ben’s eyes up to the stone tower again. The snakes of jaundice light still traced their way up the sides of the immense structure. It reminded Ben of some kind of ancient castle. And this castle had a dragon.

“Land.” Ben said.

“What?” Dan asked.

“Land the HEAV,” Ben said, unable to explain why he wanted them to be on the floor all of a sudden. “Just do it.”

Dan obeyed and parked the HEAV on the stone as the buzzing hum rose in pitch. The swarms of meganulas around them formed up into one giant cloud. The dragonflies blew towards the tower as if guided there by the wind. They entered the tower's opening before the steady buzzing hum rose to become an inhuman cry. He, Dan, and Victor looked at each other, their eyes filled with confusion and fright. Ben felt the sound might drive him insane. His mind became convinced something would come out of the chamber. He visualized some kind of gigantic cricket. Or maybe a wasp. Yet what came forth was a rugose horror that Ben’s brain could never have conjured up in his worst nightmares. The sight of it punched home with the force of a battering ram.

All three men shared the same expressions of stunned horror as the beast’s jagged, darkened legs rose from the top of the tower. They were claws that gripped the rock with the noise of impossibly sized nails scoring a mountain. As a fountain of meganula sprayed out of the open tower the crooked legs pulled the rest of the creature forth from the same hole. Ben didn’t feel the ORCA Z in his lap anymore. The gasp of his friends barely registered. The creature’s bulky reptilian head emerged from the tower. Its eyes were bright red rubies. The steam from its nostrils was a volcano’s ash. The wings came next, gargantuan bat-like wings that flared out almost wider than the tower it came from. Its front crablike pincers rose into the view as well, opening and closing with explosive claps.

The HEAV shuddered once the bat wings gave a massive flap. The creature went airborne, but only for a moment. In that moment Ben saw a tail about as long as several buses put together. The tail had immense meathook pincers and ended in a stinger long enough to impale their HEAV. Its gargantuan wings blew several meganula away. The building-sized insect lurched in the air, heading unerringly toward them. It came down with an earth shaking thud, its great claws coming to rest on either side of the HEAV. It reared over them, burying them in its shadow. Its head turned down and the blazing red eyes regarded them.

Ben wanted to close his eyes yet somehow that seemed like the wrong response to such a creature. It was her. Megaguirus. She had created all down here, the demonic parody of the ordered world he had known above. His war with Monarch had led him to come face to face with her. And nothing could be done about that.

He forced his eyes all the way up to her face. He glimpsed the teeth sticking out of the closed mouth like some kind of hellish crocodile. Something moved in the air behind the horns on her head. At first Ben thought it was a stray meganula but the metallic glint told him otherwise. It was Monarch’s drone. It had to be. It circled the dragonfly Titan’s head, a mere pest in this ancient keep that was her lair. The Titan rumbled, drowning out the meager throbs of his ORCA. But there was another sound that came a split second later deep within his mind. It sounded like ancient bony fingers rapping against his skull.

Daring to look away from the beast above him Ben noticed the activity of the meganula swarm. They circled close to the walls, flying in a wide, chaotic circuit that gave the HEAV endless space. The things on the ground raced about in a frantic circle around them as well. They stayed away. It didn’t take him long to figure out why. He looked back up at his answer. Megaguirus had kept the meganula away. The reason it had done so was something biologists could likely debate for decades. One thing was for sure. The ORCA Z had worked. But he didn’t know how long it would work. They could not flee, as the Titan would surely follow them. There was one way to make the creature back down. Megaguirus had shown Ben its power by keeping the swarm away. Now it was his turn.

Ben’s vision began to blur. His thought about power grew until it blossomed into spoken word. Then there he was, opening the HEAV, gathering the ORCA Z, and leaping out onto the stone of the ancient lair. His movements barely felt like his own. Victor and Dan screamed at him from another universe. The HEAV closed but did not take off. Ben decided he wouldn’t mind if it did. He stood up straight, looking up at its immense, improbable head.

Even thinking of Megaguirus as an it felt wrong. Her timeless, all-knowing eyes drew his own. He nearly drowned in her stare as she gazed upon him like he might look at an ant. Then her head moved slightly and he thought back to what he meant to do. He quickened the ORCA Z’s alpha frequency. Her head flinched back as if stung. The ground rumbled as her pincers scraped the stone. Ben saw it then. Fear. The monster felt fear.

In that moment, from the dark and fractured corner of his mind, the one known as Ren Serizawa rose again. Ren held the ORCA Z up at Megaguirus as if ready to heft it at her. In response the Titan’s great dark mouth opened and a low, rattling moan came out. He was thrown from his body right then, as if invisible hands had picked him up and flung him across the Titan’s chamber. Yet his body stood, a silhouette in the yellow glow, eye to eye with the monster. He tried to move his legs but could no longer feel them. He couldn’t feel his hands nor the ORCA Z. Sinister, fearsome shapes surrounded him in the dark and disordered realm he had been sent to. He had experienced this before and had no wish to go through it again. He had no power here. Only she did.

Roaring forward, Ben slammed back into his body. Gasping for breath he fell to his knees. The ORCA hit the ground but continued to pulse its harmony. The shadow of Megaguirus once again covered him. He felt her pulse in his flesh and bone. It melded with the alpha frequency. The Titan reared its head up and opened her mouth again. He closed his eyes, not wanting to know if his body could handle what came next. But instead of a rattling moan a hideous strained howl came. He opened his eyes and looked up. Strained howls spilled from her jaws, shearing the air. The cold, brown, bluish, stiff hull of her body trembled as she cried out. The pincers raised up from the ground, inclining in an almost unnatural way. The spell broke and he turned back to the HEAV. His legs carried him over the short distance of primordial limestone as the HEAV opened and he jumped inside.

The voices of his friends slowly drifted back to him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Dan yelled. He hit a button and clawed for the lever like a tiger. The HEAV jolted once he pulled the lever.

“Get us up,” Ben said. “Get us out. Now!”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Dan said. The HEAV rose up from the ground. The Titan glanced away, shaking its head back and forth. Its jaws released another howl.

The ORCA Z sang in its pulsing manner as Ben gazed at Megaguirus. The immense wings beat, carrying her backward before the legs smashed several rock formations to pieces. As the HEAV continued rising the Titan’s long tail slapped aside a thin stalagmite. Megaguirus had held her swarm back but somehow Ben knew she wouldn’t keep them away from the HEAV for long. As they ascended from the winged Titan Ben wondered what Erica would think, in all her religious fanaticism, if she shared in this experience. The Monarch drone appeared before them, a clunky box floating with four propellers. Danny and Ben looked at each other. Ben nodded.

“Do it!” Victor yelled.

Danny fired two missiles. One of them found its goal and blew the drone into dust. The other spiraled toward the ground and knocked aside bits of stone and orange blobs. The meganula still raced along the edge of the chamber, a million wings buzzing against the walls. Then the world tilted down at a skewed angle and the HEAV shot up toward the tunnel. A couple of large hardened wings buffeted them. Ben held on tight to the ORCA Z as the stalactites on the ceiling raced at them. Then they shot into the tunnel, leaving the yellow and orange glow behind.

Ben turned off the ORCA. Yet its throbbing power echoed in his mind. He flashed back to its power in his hands as he faced the beast. It had been afraid, not of him but of the alpha frequency. Perhaps Emma Russell felt this power during the Mass Awakening. Cities fell whenever she drew her fingers across her ORCA screen. Walter Simmons had dreamed of having that kind of power. However, Ben knew it was nothing more than an illusion. He had seen what happened to people when they chased that illusion. Thinking about it made him shudder. He slid his fingers along his creation. A single rough scratch met his thumb. He frowned, but sighed in relief. They had all gotten out of there and would smell fresh air soon. He’d focus on that.

The echoes of the meganula swarm’s hum stayed with Ben. The HEAV followed the twists and turns of the tunnel as it headed toward the mouth of Devil’s Cave. He shared a quiet look with Victor. Dan kept his eyes locked on the path ahead. None of the men said a word. They would never be the same after this.

Notes:

There is a reason Megaguirus lets Adversary go and the hints are dropped all over the chapter, including the title and opening Bible verse.

Chapter 22: End of the Line

Summary:

Having been released by Megaguirus, Adversary faces one more obstacle before leaving the Three Sisters mountains. A meganula swarm puzzles Monarch scientists.

Titanus Megaguirus. Something about the name rolled off the tongue for Riley. Not like anyone had taken to calling it that just yet, however. Now they had footage of her.

Riley was only middle aged, but felt like an oldhead. The world had changed so fast around him and it had become a constant race to catch up. And his chances of catching up felt like running that race with busted kneecaps. He still didn’t understand the proclivities of young ones to make jokes about tragedies such as G-Day. He’d always remember G-Day in 2014, which had gotten him started with Monarch. There had been a big learning curve yet the people here were usually patient with him.

Now he understood the organization a lot more. They had sent a drone into Devil’s Cave and captured footage of Megaguirus alongside other data such as temperature and the gases in the cavern. Unfortunately the drone had been shot down by the stolen HEAV. Hopefully they could get the HEAV back from the bastards who stole it.

Riley stared at a computer screen while standing alongside Sherry, a biologist who specialized in entomology. They both watched the radar, witnessing what looked like a storm cloud gathering over Hanford Reach National Monument. It was the swarm. The meganula had gathered over the nature reserve in the biggest swarm ever seen for god-knows-what reason. The top brass had told them to monitor it so they did just that. The director had made an alarmed call to the officials in charge of that reserve. He had warned them that the hurricane of dragonflies could not be predicted.

The vast cloud of meganula began to shift. The bottom of the cloud started tapering. It began to point to the south.

“It’s moving.” Riley said.

Sherry analyzed the screen before zooming out. She tapped a couple keys, then zoomed back in. “Their trajectory puts them southwest of Hanford,” she said. “They’re headed for Sisters.”

With that he closed the laptop. “They’re probably in the conference room,” he said. “Let’s go.” They hurried out of the room.

“That’s where momma is,” Riley said as they strode through the hallway. “You think they’re going to her?”

Sherry shook her head. “Hard to say. I’m surprised they’re swarming so far away in the first place.”

From behind, Rick Stanton joined them. “You guys hear?” he said. “Our acoustics picked up two signals merged into one another from Devil’s Cave.”

One of them had to be Megaguirus itself. But another? Riley wondered if a second Titan was down there. That was just what they needed. “What were they?”

“One of ‘em was Megaguirus,” Stanton said. “We’re not a hundred percent sure about the other one but most of the signal resembles Godzilla.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Riley said.

“Exactly,” Stanton said. “It could be an attempt to synthesize Godzilla’s call. Maybe it’s another ORCA.”

“These lunatics made their own ORCA?” Sherry asked. They emerged outside.

“One of ‘em used to work for Apex,” Stanton pointed out as they strolled beneath slightly cloudy skies toward the conference building. “We know they somehow managed to replicate Titan calls. If Apex had an ORCA the dude from Apex probably took it with him.”

One way or another, that had to be the reason the meganula had begun making their way to Sisters. Riley could only wonder why the HEAV snatchers would set off an ORCA inside the MUTO's den. Perhaps this was an attempt at a second Mass Awakening. Maybe these psychos were copycats inspired by Emma Russell. Maybe they wanted to get the MUTO to attack Outpost 20. Whatever the case was, Flynn had a plan to deal with them once and for all. Riley could only hope Flynn dealt with them quickly. 

He got to the door and opened it. Sherry and Stanton went inside before him.

______________________________

The wind changed direction and picked up speed. Clouds arrived in the sky.

Sandra failed to shake the feeling that she had done the wrong thing. Victor had assured her he’d come back, but what if he couldn’t keep that promise? She rubbed the watch he gave her before. Maybe she should’ve stopped him from entering that HEAV.

She tore her glance from the watch and pushed the thoughts of regret away. This wasn’t the damned time. However, now was the time to be ready so at a moment’s notice she would drive to the cave to pick up Victor and the others. Sandra watched the sky above the cave. Despite not being religious, she prayed for the HEAV’s emergence.

Long ago the Monarch drone had appeared above the cave and descended out of sight. Surely the guys would’ve destroyed it by now. They were taking too long. Had they provoked some creature down there? Ben had said his ORCA Z would scare off anything that tried to attack the HEAV. She didn't want to think about what would happen if the ORCA failed. Victor’s life was in Ben’s hands now.

But it wasn’t just the monsters she had to worry about. “If Ben activated the ORCA Monarch would know,” Martin said, voicing Sandra’s worry. “They’re coming for us.”

Sandra's eyes remained fixed on the sky. Martin shifted in the passenger seat, restless. “Watching only makes you wait longer.” He said.

“I don’t care,” Sandra retorted. Martin handed her something.

She turned to find a gun with the handle offered to her. Sandra took it and instead of placing it in her lap where her camera was, she leaned down and put it on the floor between her feet.

She had been pissed for so many reasons when Ren unveiled his ORCA back at the abandoned house. But Victor, in a way special to him, made it better. His words echoed in her head.You took a leap of faith when you let him bring you to us. I’m asking you to take the same leap of faith for the ORCA Z.

Sandra thought back to the day she had called Ren, back when she knew him as Ben. She had allowed him, a male stranger, to take her away in his car to another location. That had been kinda crazy. But if she hadn’t done that she never would have met Victor or anyone else from Adversary. She never would have slept over in a nice hotel. She’d never have ridden in a car with friends again. If not for her leap of faith she’d be rotting in her bed with nothing to look forward to.

The ORCA should never have been remade again. Nothing could change that. But if she took a leap of faith in it just this once, it could be used for good. She focused on that while she watched the skies and waited.

______________________________

Ben saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Slow down,” he commanded Dan, not wanting to crash into the cave ceiling.

Monarch would pick up the ORCA Z signal and send agents over. But he had calculated the time it would take for cavalry to arrive at the cave. If Sandra and Walker did their jobs then Adversary would be far away before Monarch came.
The light grew bigger and closer.

“So we drop the HEAV and make for the trail,” Victor said. “Right?”

Ben nodded. “The getaway cars will be there.” He assured them.

The HEAV slowly floated out of the tunnel. Victor laughed. “Wow,” he said. “The others aren’t gonna believe what we did. They won’t believe what you did, Ben.”

Ben nodded. He’d need to analyze all that had happened in the Titan’s chamber later. He had the distinct feeling that nobody had ever done what he had done. Russell had used the ORCA to calm Mothra and her daughter had used it to stop the Titans during the Mass Awakening. But his encounter with Megaguirus felt different and more profound than those other instances.

Nobody outside of Adversary would know what he had done. They will take the secret of my communion with Megaguirus to their graves. He grimaced at that word. Communion. Only his father would use that word for these creatures. It hadn’t been a communion, just a simple encounter with a massive organism. Still, he’d be okay with the group having beer over this.

They flew out of the cave and ascended. Ben glanced at the ground. The sight that drew his eye made his heart jump. A lone silver Toyota sat halfway in the shade of the trees a stone’s throw from the cave. His people hadn’t brought a car that close, had they? It couldn’t belong to Adversary. Something was wrong. The car disturbed him and he considered voicing it to his men. But he had no words to tell them why.

Ben thought about Danny being sent into Devil’s Cave, as far as Monarch was concerned, on his own. The Interpersonal Division was in play. The clouds approached. Ben thought: we’re in danger. All of us. It occurred to him then that he had made a mistake. To get their way, Adversary had to win all the time. To catch them, Monarch only had to win once. He glanced at Victor and Dan. Without saying a word they looked back at him, shocked at the fright painted on his face.

Under the high gray blanket of clouds, an orange streak appeared out of the corner of Ben’s eye. It flashed once, twice. Just as Ben turned to look at the fire in the sky his heart skipped two beats. The burning projectile of the rocket launcher struck them. A short and sharp woof came, as if someone blew in his ear. Then came the roar from his left and his body lurched sideways. Only a single yelp came from one of his men as the ground screamed up at them. They smashed into the earth. Glass shattered and an alarm shrieked as everything went still and dark.

Chapter 23: Aim and Shoot

Summary:

Adversary and Monarch face off as Megaguirus' swarm descends on the cave. Mark Russell joins the fray.

Trapped in darkness, Ben heard nothing but the stuttering of the engine, repeating like a broken record. Something powered down. Ben forced his body to move. A sudden ache in his right leg caused him to grunt. He dragged himself until he felt grass beneath his fingers. Another hand grabbed him and pulled. He followed in the hand’s direction and emerged into light. Victor’s face greeted him, panic stricken like his own probably was. His gun was in his other hand.

Despite the ache in his upper leg he stood up and drew his handgun. He searched beyond the clearing with his eyes, looking for the Toyota. Ben knew who was responsible. Flynn Grayer, with his big-eyed stare. Monarch had indeed found them. Dan had been set up. Walker had cleaned up their traces at the gravel pit yet Flynn had still managed to find them. Russell, Guillerman, Flynn, they wanted Adversary to fly into the cave all along. Flynn had laid a trap and like a fool, Ben had fallen right into it.

Ben’s eyes found the Toyota half hidden in the tree shade. He hopped back, hiding behind the flipped HEAV. Victor and Dan followed suit, hiding behind the broken hull beside him. Ben peeked out from behind the smoking vehicle. His eyes pulled Flynn and his two soldiers clear of the background. No matter where they hid their slight movements made them visible. He sized them up. They looked back, their eyes glittering with hostility. Ben paid Flynn the most attention. He had orchestrated this.

Flynn Grayer stepped out of the passenger seat of the car about sixty yards away. He still wore his suit. His hands removed a bright white megaphone from the car. Another car drove up next to the Toyota. Only a single man got out of this one. Taller than Flynn, he wore a brown trench coat and strode in their direction with all the pride of a lion. He held a rocket launcher over his shoulder.
Dan came next to Ben and peeked around the wrecked HEAV’s corner. His eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he said. “Derek shot us down.”

Derek’s trench coat flowed in the wind. Flynn quickly beckoned him back. As soon as Derek noticed he shrugged and walked back to his own car. Flynn held the megaphone to his mouth.

“Daniel Olsen! How was your trip?” He asked in a jovial tone. “Ah, I suppose you’ll get plenty of time to talk about it once you come with us.”

Ben peered back around the HEAV. Flynn’s eyes weren't as speculative as usual. They had darkened with black joy on his face. He wore a demonic clown grin.

“It’s a shame you didn’t stick with the Monarch family, Daniel,” Flynn lamented. “And speaking of family, how’s that pregnant wife of yours?”

Hearing this Dan grew visibly upset, balling his fists in anger and gritting his teeth. Ben grimaced at his aching right leg. Fortunately it didn't feel like he had broken a bone.

“In case we don’t have an understanding,” Flynn continued, the megaphone carrying his voice. “You and the others belong to us. You drop your weapons and come to our cars with your hands up. Simple as that. If not, well… We’ll have to go that other way.”

Megaguirus had let them go, but the Interpersonal Division wouldn’t do the same. Not all of them would get out of this alive if they cooperated with Flynn. The woods beside Devil’s Cave would be the perfect spot for Monarch to kill them all. There were no witnesses, no one to see, no one to know. Yes. To the outside, to the town, they would have been gunned down in self defense. They would be the latest victims in Flynn’s wake. Their only chance rested in the arrival of Walker and Sandra.
Ben calmed himself. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. He drew in a deep breath, smelling earth, air, the faint stink from the cave, and the sooty odor from the downed HEAV. He turned to talk to Vic and Dan.

“The getaway cars are coming.” He said. Victor nodded, holding his gun tight.

He looked to the path where the cars would come. Even if Sandra didn’t see the HEAV exit the cave, Walker would have. Ben embraced his faith in his people. He just hoped they came before it was too late.

_______________________

Sandra drove the Patriot like she had never driven before.

Her fingers, slick with sweat, steered the wheel. Her foot stomped down on the gas. Her people were in danger. She had looked down for a moment and that was when the explosion had come. She had looked up just in time to see the HEAV go down. Monarch had found them. It had to be them. Her mind raced with panic. Behind her, Walker drove Ren’s car. She careened around a bend, unwilling to stop for anything until she saw the HEAV again.

She floated in her seat as they hit multiple bumps. She repeated the word please under her breath as she sped into the clearing. Sandra came to an abrupt halt only a few feet off the road. The HEAV had flipped and the three men in it hid on the other side with their guns drawn. A man stood further away with a rocket launcher on his shoulder.

It was only a matter of time before the rest of Monarch arrived. While she wanted to drive over to the HEAV so her people could hop in she couldn’t risk the car by going too far into the grass. If it got stuck they’d be sitting ducks. She tried to think of what the hell else she could do but panic clouded her mind. Three more vehicles joined the scene, racing over the grass to come beside the man with the rocket launcher. Sandra’s heart sank at the sideways hourglass symbol emblazoned on the sides of what looked like Jeeps. One of the car doors opened and out stepped Mark Russell. He had a megaphone and a concerned look on his face. The doors of the other cars opened and G-Team jumped out onto the grass. Their camouflage uniforms formed an open circle around Russell.

“How did they know?” Martin cried. “How?”

Sandra could only shake her head in disbelief. Her lips quivered as she watched Russell. He had brought Monarch out here to confront Adversary. This was his doing. He held the megaphone to his mouth.

“Everyone!” he shouted. “Hold your fire! Nobody fire!”

As his voice echoed through the clearing and forest she saw someone else step into view next to the man with the rocket launcher. He wore a suit and his face looked familiar. He was Flynn Grayer. Russell had sent him into action after all.

“Ren Serizawa!” Russell yelled. “You and your group have made your point. Lower your weapons and come with us so we can talk.”

Ren said something Sandra couldn’t quite hear.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Russell continued. “I understand your pain. I understand your helplessness. I understand that you want to be heard. Just drop your weapons, walk over and you will be heard. I’ll show you.”

Victor started to lower his handgun. Sandra gaped. He wouldn’t actually surrender to these people, would he? But as the harsh whistling of Martin’s fast breathing began she figured he was capable of surrendering. Vic had always been the charitable one, the nice one. She had never found him to be naive but… Russell’s lying compassion could have gotten to him. She had to act.

Sandra positioned the car so that the driver’s side door faced the standoff. She picked up her camera and handed it to Martin. She showed him what to press to record.

“The moment I leave,” she instructed. “Aim and shoot.”

Bending over she felt for the handgun on the floor of the car. When her hand found it something came over her. It was the same primal thing she felt when she picked up the pipe at the gravel pit. This time she welcomed that feeling. She became ready for whatever may come next. Sandra picked up the gun and threw open the car door. She leaped from the seat, leaving the car door hanging. She hoped Martin had started filming.

The grass became a blur beneath her as she crossed it. She sprinted between the two lone trees with the gun in her hand. A megaphone yell came, probably addressed to her. But it didn’t register clearly. All that mattered was getting to Victor.

“What are you doing here?” Ren growled when she ran up to them. She shoved her way in between the men to stand beside Victor. Victor held his gun up once again. He showed no signs of surrender anymore.

“Sandy,” Victor said. “Just go back.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you here. Got it?”

Russell continued somewhere out there. “Look, the world is broken,” he said. “But we’ve tried to fix it. I admit we at Monarch haven’t been perfect but we’ve tried. You can be a part of fixing it.”

Having had enough of his bullshit, Sandra lunged around the side of the HEAV, tempted to raise her gun on Russell. “You’re the one who broke the world!” she spat at him.

“Stand down, Sandra.” Ren scolded. She ducked back behind the HEAV’s brown metal. They were one eyeblink away from violence, yet Sandra wasn’t as scared as she thought she’d be. She wished Walker stood here with her. He was a weapon with a weapon and could easily handle the situation.

“Sandra. That’s your name isn’t it?” Russell said. “Listen to me.” At the mention of her name a looming dread came over her. How the hell did he know her name? How long had Monarch been tracking them?

“You’re not a-” Russell stopped speaking. A low droning sound began to fade in.

Sandra looked up into the cloudy sky as the hum drew closer, heavier, louder. She stepped back from the HEAV as every hair on her arms and legs stood on end. Looking above the standoff she saw it. A huge oily cloud climbed over the elms and under the gray clouds of the sky, an immense swarm of eagle-sized wings all headed for her.

The meganula swarm appeared as a living, humming thunderhead. Its numerous wings rippled, sweeping over the clearing. The G-Team soldiers began scrambling, looking up to face the new threat. Sandra wanted to run back across the clearing, but she’d be a target if she did. Her body trembled violently, torn between sprinting and staying still. She could feel it. She now lived in the precious seconds before everything went bad.

She looked to Ren and with real shock she saw how tired and drawn his eyes were. Something frightened her about his face as he pressed himself against the HEAV’s brown wall. His was the look of a man driven to the brink of madness. Victor shared the same haunted, automaton look. She didn’t want to know what they saw in the cave to make them that way. He blinked and the essential Ren she knew came back, calm and collected yet angry and determined. He held onto the ORCA Z.

“Back to the cars,” he commanded. “Now!”

All four of them ran from the shelter of the wrecked HEAV. Bangs and yells erupted on the other side of the vehicle as the swarm descended. Sandra risked a look back and felt slight relief. G-Team was firing at the insects and not her people. Russell had disappeared. The swarm didn’t come for them. Rather, it boiled into the cave, tapering down from the sky like the longest pointing finger.

“Vic!” she called, spinning around and nearly falling. She glanced to her right to see him running next to her.

Car engines roared into existence far behind them. Ahead of them Ren’s black car drove into view, driven by Walker. Sandra sprinted faster, headed for Victor’s blue Patriot. Martin pointed the camera out the driver’s side window. The gunshots behind them stopped ringing. Their feet pounded the grass and stone. Then a solitary gunshot rang into the gloomy air. For some reason it made Sandra’s heart hammer against her ribs harder than before. The getaway cars remained several yards away. They closed the distance at what felt like a painful slow pace. Victor ran beside her, panting. They came closer, sprinting in between the two lone trees.

Another gunshot cracked the air. Sandra glanced to her side but Victor was gone. Panic rode through her and she looked back. Victor lay flat on his face, a large blood spot on his back. She failed to scream but grabbed the blue door of Victor’s Jeep. Ren and Dan vanished into the other car. Martin pulled Sandra by her arm into the passenger seat and she closed the door. Yet her eyes remained stuck on Victor laying unmoving in the dirt. Waves of shock rose within Sandra, lifting her dizzily up, higher and higher until she was outside of herself. Martin’s voice yelled her name but it sounded a thousand miles away. She looked for any signs that Victor still drew breath but he remained as still as a grave. A spot of blood bigger than her hand bloomed from his back. Sandra’s hands and feet went cold as the horrible realization swept over her.

She lifted her eyes up and saw him standing in the grass. The tall, lean man in the brown trenchcoat no longer held the rocket launcher. Instead he held the smoking pistol. A small grin came to his face once he spotted them. Martin hit the gas and drove toward the road as Sandra glared down the man who had shot Victor in the back. He locked eyes with her with all the remorse of a serial killer. Before she could speak, react, or even flinch he turned and ran back, the trench coat sweeping behind him like a dark cape. Foliage blocked him from her view as the car found the road again.

________________________

Derek ran on the grass. He had finally gotten one of the lowlifes. He would’ve liked to get them all but he’d never outrun them on foot. He should’ve kept hold of his rocket launcher. Then he could’ve blown them sky high. A humming noise came from above.

“You’ve gotta be shitting-” he growled just before alien legs pounced on him.

He fell to his knees before rolling to dislodge the giant insects. Two dragonflies, about the size of lions, jumped from him. They flapped about him as he wielded his pistol. One of them pounced him again but his right hand pistoned out and pulled the trigger three times, blowing a hole in its head. As it limply fell to the ground the other dragonfly slammed into his back, taking him to the ground.

Pincers dug into Derek’s shoulders and he yelled from the pain. He pointed his gun at its hardened underbelly and squeezed the trigger. An empty click greeted him as he rolled onto his back, the insect pinned beneath him. It bit his trench coat. The wings buzzed, drumming the ground like a huge set of rotors under him. His hands groped in the dirt in search of a rock, branch, blade, anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed on a rock and with all his strength he ripped himself free of the gargantuan pincers and legs. He rolled to his knees and leaped at the dragonfly before it could flap its way into the air again. He smashed the large rock into its head. He kept at it, bellowing as he brought the stone down on the beast's head repeatedly. Only when the wings stopped flapping did he get up. He thought the swarm had decided to go the hell back where they belonged.

“Assholes,” he muttered. He dropped the rock wetly on the dirt before turning away and heading back to Captain Grayer.

He trudged, wincing from the pain in his shoulder. The swarm continued emptying itself in the cave. The tornado of dragonflies stabbed its way into the mountain while his crew watched in disbelief. No more dragonflies left the swarm to target him. G-Team milled around not far from the downed HEAV. Russell’s arrival hadn’t been something Flynn planned for, but Derek supposed it made sense to at least ask the terrorists for a surrender before using force. Captain Grayer and G-Team monitored the swarm. Russell asked Barnes something. Barnes nodded before giving him the thumbs up and waving him away. Russell nodded and ran to his car before driving away on his own.

Just then tires screeched, unseen in the shadows of the trail. With his senses now on high alert Derek glanced around. From the direction the terrorists had gone, a car roared up the road. He glimpsed the blue shade of the Jeep Patriot through small gaps in the still foliage. The enemy had returned and Russell was alone out there. Derek ran to his Toyota. He’d be all the backup Russell needed.

______________________

Martin roughly shoved the camera back in her lap. She glanced down at it. It had finished recording. Sandra didn’t even look at him while he drove.

“We need to get back there,” Sandra choked out. “I need to check his pulse. Let me check his pulse.”

Martin bobbed his head, as if out of his mind. “He’s dead.” His words fell like bricks. He drove on, keeping Ren’s car in view.

“You don't know that,” Sandra said. “You can’t know that!” A loud part of her wanted to wrench the steering wheel and turn the car around. Yet the vision of Victor flashed in her mind. She saw him laying face down in the dirt. This time she saw not only the bright red blood gushing from his back but his deathly pale skin as well.

“We… we can’t just leave him out there,” she heard herself say in a papery voice. “Please.”

Martin’s eyes glowered. “He’s dead,” he said with venom in his voice. “He’s dead and they killed him. And they’re going to get away with it again!”
He swerved and did a U-turn, slamming Sandra against the door. Tires shrieked on the road as he sped away from Ren’s car.

“Where are we going?” Sandra asked, tears welling into her eyes.

Martin stomped the gas. “We’re going to finish this!” he roared.

Sandra was about to protest… But then she realized she had almost forgotten about Victor’s body laying on the ground. She had almost forgotten about him and it was all the fault of his killers.

Rage welled up within her as the tears spilled out of her eyes. Martin turned as the trail curved to the left and a beige SUV appeared in front of them. In its rearview mirror she glimpsed Russell’s face. The deputy director. She had no idea who else was in the car with him but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t pulled the trigger yet Russell had killed Victor just as much as the bullet did. Sandra shoved the camera to the floor and clicked the safety off her handgun.

“Get them,” she said. “Get him!”

Martin accelerated, closing the distance between them and Russell’s car. His car skipped over a slight bump, accelerating as he realized he was being pursued. She rolled down her window, putting together exactly what had happened. Russell’s entire white flag act had been a trick.

Once her window rolled all the way down she stuck her arms out, aiming the gun at the car in front of them with arms extended. They hit a bump and Sandra yelped, keeping her hysterical trembling grip on the gun. They kept after the SUV. Her nostrils flared and she dimly heard Martin howling at her to shoot them. All fear left her, replaced by white hot fury mixed with bewilderment and a sense that time had come to a screeching halt. A clear coldness she had never seen fell over her sight and she fired the gun. Then she fired again. She squeezed the trigger repeatedly, screaming.

The clear sight disappeared as the beige SUV came to a sudden and catastrophic stop, crashing into a tree stump several yards in front of them. Sandra flinched back into her seat, hands hurting from the gun’s kickback. Martin leaned forward in his seat and stepped on the gas, intending to speed at the crashed SUV. Then he glanced to his left.

“Holy shit!” he yelled.

Another car, a dark red Toyota, leapt from the woods and onto the road beside them. A split second later Sandra glimpsed the man in the trenchcoat with a poisonous glare in his eyes and an assault rifle in his arm. His car slammed into theirs and tires screamed as they careened off the road. Martin spun the steering wheel, glancing around with frantic eyes. For a terrifying second their Jeep remained in suspended animation as the tires spun in the mud. But Martin soon steered them out of the mud’s grip and back onto the road.

A hail of gunfire descended on them from the other car as it finished turning around to come in their direction. Sandra dropped her gun and screamed, ducking as far down as her body would allow. She closed her eyes as Martin accelerated. Silence filled the void left by the rifle. The car turned to follow a curve. Risking a look in the rearview mirror she saw that Victor’s killers hadn’t followed them. The road behind them remained empty.

“That guy did it, he…” she choked back sobs. “He shot Vic in the back. We… we can’t just leave Vic out here.”

Martin stared at her, a haunted look in his face. “We have to,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

Sandra leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Once she did the bloody pipe appeared, spinning in darkness. It spun hypnotically, taunting her. In broken flashes she saw the nameless soldier that had come after her and Victor in the gravel pit. She heard his screams of rage as he chased her through the foliage. Trying to stretch her fingers she winced at the hot sizzle of pain. It was a wonder anyone got used to gun recoil. She wondered what happened to Russell. The chances were low that one of her bullets had actually hit him but the crash must have hurt.

She wouldn’t cry for him. He’d orchestrated this whole thing, knocking down the HEAV and running out with his shitty white megaphone to trick her people into surrendering. When it didn’t work, his people had done the unthinkable. If she could trade places between Russell and Victor she’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I’m getting us out of here,” Martin assured her. “We’ll find Ben and the others. We’ll make it through today.” His voice took on a surprising warmth.

The trees passed them by as Sandra lay limp in her seat, mouth lolling. The immense trunks blurred in her vision. They sped down the road in Victor’s car.

Chapter 24: Adaptation

Summary:

Sandra gives Monarch an ultimatum. Mark learns the horrible truth about the incident at Devil's Cave.

In Mark’s opinion, hospitals were overrated. On the bed he lay thinking about what a waste of time this had become. Time stood still as he stared up at the empty TV. It hung forever, yet there was so little of it. He wondered when he could get back to work.

He had sustained nothing more than cuts and bruises from the crash. Despite insisting that he was fine Barnes and the rest of G-Team had brought him to the hospital anyway. He scratched an itch on his side, thinking about what he had just done. Foster, Grayer, Guillerman, everyone had advised against his decision to confront Adversary and ask them to come quietly. Almost everyone had insisted that he let Grayer’s people handle it. He should have listened.

He looked at the floor. Made of smooth, unbroken wood just like the hallway floor it reminded him of a regular house’s interior. There was a cozy feel to it. Although Mark had no serious injuries he felt anything but cozy. Just before he rolled over to go back to sleep the soft sounds of footsteps came in.

“Dad?”

Now came the tough part. “Maddie?” he called.

And then she was in front of him, standing beside the bed with a distraught look all over her face. Mark sat up, trying his best to look at ease. Madison shook her head, her eyes pleading for an answer. “What happened?” she asked.

“I screwed up,” Mark said. “That’s what happened. But as you can tell, I’m fine.”

She threw her arms around him and buried her head in his shoulder, anxiety on each breath. “I thought,” she started. “I heard they shot you.” Her voice trembled like she struggled not to cry. She apologized profusely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, dad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mark said, hugging her back. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She pulled her head away from him. “I shouldn’t have sent you out there,” she said. “You wouldn’t have done that if it wasn’t for me.”

“Maddie…”

“Please, just let me apologize,” Madison begged. Mark relented. She leaned against his shoulder again, sucking in a sniff. He wanted to kick himself. Maddie shouldn’t have had to see him in the hospital. One dumb decision was all it took, a decision that he never had to make.

“Listen,” Mark said. “After all this we’re going back to Pensacola.”

Madison pulled back from him. Her shocked look surprisingly put Mark at ease. It was better than misery at his being in the hospital. “I still want you to have a normal life.” he told her.

“So that’s it then?” Madison asked. “After everything, you still want me in high school? You know I hate it there.”

“It’s your last year,” Mark said. “You’ve gotta finish. Come on, at least do it for me.”

“And what’s after that?” she asked. “College?”

“Why not?”

Madison pressed her lips and gave a slow shake of her head. Then she looked him in the eyes. “I could be so much more than some college student,” she said. “Alright? I mean, ask anyone. Chen, Stanton, anyone.”

Mark didn’t have the strength for this. It was always the same conversations with Madison. As a matter of fact, I actually do know what’s best for you so just listen to me. But he didn’t dare say that to her.

“First thing’s first,” he said. “We go back to Pensacola and start your semester in the fall. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

Madison looked like she wanted to roll her eyes. But Mark could tell she didn’t want to fight right now. At least that was something they agreed on. She sighed. “Alright, dad.”

Mark nodded in relief. Madison was right. She did have a place at Monarch. And maybe he’d get her a role in Monarch once they got back to Pensacola. It all depended on what things looked like at home. As for him, he’d go back to being an analyst of Titan territorial routes like before. He didn’t plan to be part of the action anymore. Either way, this conversation wasn’t over. Two people walked in.

“We’d like the room,” a nurse told Madison. A man in blue scrubs stood next to the nurse.

Madison held Mark’s hand. “I’m not gonna leave him,” she said. “I already did that once.”

“It’s okay,” Mark assured her. “Really, it is. I’m fine right?” Maddie gave him a final hug before turning and stepping out the door.

He couldn’t help but ruminate on Grayer’s plan. All the manipulation, the lies, deceit, thousands of dollars, and they had nothing to show for it. Nobody in custody. The next move would be to meet with his people.

______________________

Cars whipped by as the Jeep Patriot dodged through traffic. The trees became a blur. Martin swerved into the left lane. Wind pushed on the car and honks came at them like insults. Sandra fought to keep her breathing steady as they swerved again. The lines marking the lanes looked like no more than tiny dots as Martin drove with one panicked hand. The other held his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Ben!” he yelled. “I checked the car for trackers! I told you this! Yes, I checked under it! Gas cap? Why would I check the gas cap?”

That raised her eyebrow. “What is he asking?” she asked.

Martin ignored her.

“Martin!” she said louder than she intended. “What the hell is he asking? Is the car bugged?”

He withdrew the phone from his ear and told her no. He resumed his conversation with Ren, speaking to him with fury. Sandra looked out the windows, dreading the moment a car appeared with the hourglass sigil on it.

Her fingers trembled. Despite what they did, the group had been caught. “How the hell did they find us?” she asked. “Did you ask him that?”

“He doesn’t know!” Martin said. “Nobody does.”

Sandra couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking. She thought about Monarch’s war chest. That massive jet of theirs could be used to descend from the sky and blast them into the stratosphere. But with all the witnesses around they probably wouldn’t strike. The honking horns reminded her of the other cars. She scanned the road around them, seeing all the people driving alongside them. But assurance of safety still eluded her. Who was to say witnesses would stop Monarch? Maybe the only safe place would be a damned bomb shelter or a deep submarine at this point.

“We need to leave town,” Sandra said. “They’re coming for us. I don’t know when but they are. Fuck, we can’t even go to the police.”

“We all must move,” Martin said. “All our homes are targets now.”

The clouds cleared from the sky. Daylight bathed the highway as they drove across a bridge. She looked around again, seeing no signs of Monarch. Yesterday she was a substitute teacher. Today, she had no idea who she’d become. All she had was the crushing realization that up until now she had been above ground. Having been so used to drowning this whole time, Sandra had forgotten there was a time she had ever been above the water. Now she could do nothing as it filled her lungs. She gripped the gun, wondering when Monarch would strike next. Maybe it wouldn’t be today. Perhaps it wouldn’t even be tomorrow. But it would come.

Martin turned to an exit to leave the highway. Sandra checked the rearview mirror to see which cars followed them off. No one suspicious appeared behind them. Still, the alarm rang loud in her head.

“Is it wrong for me to want a smoke right now?” she asked. Martin shook his head. Her need for a smoke became briefly interrupted by a buzz from her phone.

A text had come to the group chat, a command from Ren for the group to meet at a local gas station. She read the address.

“That gas station closed down,” Martin said.

Sandra looked up from her phone as the realization flowed into her. “That’s the point,” she said. “That’s why he chose it.”

It didn’t take them long to find the gas station. Light brown boards covered nearly every window. The whistle of a breeze passed through the empty parking lot. The canopy as well as its poles loomed like pale and ancient sentinels over a graveyard. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight once Martin drove into the lot. She dug her nails into the car seat beneath her.

“We have no idea who’s in there,” Sandra whispered.

Martin looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Yes we do,” he said. “The rest of Adversary.”

“But what if Monarch’s there?” she asked. “Flynn and the rest? What if they stole Ren’s phone and sent that text? What then, dude? They could be fucking waiting for us to show up.”

For all she knew Flynn and his buddies had already killed the rest of Adversary in there. Maybe her and Martin were the only ones left. They’d be gunned down inside the abandoned gas station and nobody would know how or why. They would be snuffed out of existence. Did Monarch have a way of disposing of bodies? They probably did.

“Martin, this is bad.”

But Martin pulled in anyway. He parked right in front of the blocked windows. Sandra grabbed her handgun. Martin grabbed his gun as well. They nodded to each other before climbing out of the car. She didn’t bother to question her decision making up until this point. Nothing would make her regret joining her new people, not even if she died now. She had nothing left at home except her dog, if she ever had anything at all. Charlie would probably find a new home for Ian after she was gone.

They prowled to a board that partially hung out in the open. Sandra peeked into the darkness of the station. A pale face and blonde hair appeared.

Sandra lowered her gun. “Erica?” Beside her Martin lowered his gun too.

“Where’s Ben?” Sandra asked.

Erica beckoned them both inside, pushing the wooden board to open it more. “He’s out,” she said. “He dropped us off and left.”

Sandra put one foot into the darkness and Erica’s warm strong hand closed above her elbow before helping her inside. She pulled Martin in next. Inside several yellow candles had been lit. Dan’s face hovered above them.

“Victor,” he said. “Did he?”

But he didn’t finish that thought. He made eye contact with Sandra. “Oh no,” he said. “You can’t be serious.”

Erica stepped close to her. “Look at me,” she said. Sandra turned around and the tall blonde took her in a tight, warm hug. “There, now. We all miss him. He’s in a better place.”

Sandra tried not to cry. That wasn’t what they were here for. But she couldn’t stop the air around her from feeling heavy. She hugged Erica tight. Once the blonde released her Sandra wanted for her old, dark brand of comfort. Not wanting to think of that she spun to face Dan.

“What the hell happened, dude?” she asked. “How did Monarch find you?”

“How long did they know?” Martin asked.

“They set me up,” Dan said, wandering away from the tiny fires. “They planned it. Russell gave me the HEAV. They wanted me to fly you guys into the cave. Then Flynn captured us after we flew out.”

“You couldn’t warn us?” she asked with an accusation in her voice. “You couldn’t tell us that maybe Monarch set you up? What were you thinking? After everything Victor’s done for you-”

“I didn’t know!” Dan said. “If I knew, I would've called off the mission. Ben would’ve. You know that.”

Martin’s gun cocked in the vast shadow. “We hit them back,” he said. “Hit them where they live. And we do it now.”

Dan walked over to him, holding up hands of caution. “Son,” he said. “We need to think clearly. If we tried that we’d never get outta there alive. We’re still breathing. Focus on that.”

Outside, a car pulled into the parking lot. Its engine noise creeped toward the boarded up windows. Sandra’s heart began to pound. She stepped toward Erica with the urge to grab her shoulder for comfort. If Monarch found them now, they’d have little in the way of fighting back.

“Who the hell is that?” Martin hissed. He pointed his gun at the windowless walls. Some movement came from outside. A squeak came as a small, unseen hinge opened. After a few minutes it closed.

One of the boards pushed in slightly and Ren squeezed through it into the dim light. He walked over to them. Sandra’s heart relaxed and she let out the breath she had been holding.

“Where’s the ORCA?” Erica asked.

“It’s safe,” Ren answered dryly. "I checked your gas cap, Martin. No tracker."

“Where’s Walker?” Martin asked. The engine growled outside, growing fainter as the car rolled from its parking spot and headed away from them.

Ren motioned his head to the sliver of light sliced in from outside. “He’s checking the roads around here. It is just in case we’ve been followed.”

“Is he okay doing that?” Dan asked. “By himself?” Ren gave him a nod before turning to Sandra.

“Are you well?” her leader asked. “Are you hearing voices? Do you have any conditions we don’t know of?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“No,” Ren growled. “Clearly you are not. No one who is fine would have done what you did.”

She didn’t even bother to glare at him. “Alright dude,” she said. “What did I do exactly?”

Ren glared at her, but before he said anymore Dan came in between them. “Alright, alright. We don’t need this,” he held his hands up at both of them as if keeping them apart. “We’re tired and we’re angry but dammit, I’m not letting those sons of bitches turn us against each other. We’re better than that.”

Sandra shrugged and looked away from him. Ren could keep berating her for all she cared. It’s not like it would change anything. He looked away, as if trying to hide his face in the darkness. She had always known him to be still like a secluded pool, but now his fingers trembled. Even his voice had a dissonant edge to it.

“We can only keep going,” Dan continued. “That’s how we honor Victor.”

“How should we do that?” Martin asked. “You’re exposed. You cannot go back.”

“I’m not going back,” Dan said. “But I took a souvenir.” He reached into his khaki pocket and drew out a handheld radio. It had the sideways hourglass sigil of Monarch. He had likely taken it from Outpost 45. The sight of it made Sandra stand a little straighter.

“We can listen in,” Sandra said.

“That’s right,” Dan said. “We’ll know before they do anything. Folks, we’re not out of the game.”

“We must address something,” Ren said grimly. “Monarch found us. The IPD found us.”

“The Interpersonal Division,” Sandra said. “Right?”

Ren nodded. “They waited at the cave for us to come out,” he said. “They knew what we would do with that HEAV. Dan, they knew of your double cross.”

“How?” Erica asked. “That doesn’t even make sense. We covered our tracks.”

“Maybe not all of them,” Ren said. He ran his worried fingers through his hair. “Russell’s daughter told Monarch I’m alive, but that is the only clue they have. Monarch hasn’t tailed me or placed trackers on my car. Maybe…”

His brain worked through all the possibilities. His gears turned and worry pushed through from beneath his facial features. It seemed he genuinely wouldn’t have an answer this time. And then he did.

“Maybe the clues aren’t physical,” Ren said. “But digital.”

“You mean online?” Martin asked. “How? Where would anyone find us online? Have you forgotten Abby’s fancy search engine? She searched Adversary and never found us.”

“We all have social media,” Ren said. “Has anyone posted anything on social media lately?”

That question left devastating echoes in Sandra’s brain. Her Instagram post came to mind. The post had garnered a hefty amount of likes. It was by no means obscure. But that didn’t make any sense. There was no way Monarch was scrolling through goddamned Instagram to track them down. And even if they did, what were the odds they’d actually find her and link her to Ren?

“You told us to go dark on all our platforms,” Erica said. “I’m pretty sure we all did. No one posted anything.”

Sandra nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.

“I just want to make sure.” Ren said.

“Oh come on,” Sandra spoke up. “Our posts probably wouldn’t attract Monarch anyway. Look, Flynn Grayer’s a bloodhound. He probably has drones flying around looking for you.”

The sound of a car engine came again. Hopefully Walker had returned. The car stopped in the same spot as before.

“I’m just saying,” Sandra continued. “He’s got something. Monarch puts out, you know, feelers.”

Martin cocked his gun again and pointed it as footsteps approached their hideout. Walker came in. “We’re clear,” he said. Martin lowered his gun again, breathing heavily.

Ren gave him a thumbs up before turning back to the rest of the group. He shook his head. “We can't stay in Sisters much longer,” he said. “Monarch isn’t done. Flynn won’t stop hunting us.”

“They might try to get the public in on it too,” Sandra said. “Brand us as an anarchist militia or something, you know?”

“Why don’t we lay low?” Erica suggested. “Go back to our homes and once this blows over we come back together?”

“Home might not be safe,” Sandra said. “Who knows what these fuckers might do next? Maybe they’ll burn your house down or slip secret cameras into it.”

“This is why,” Martin suggested. “We hit them first.”

Ren raised his eyebrow before shaking his head. “We change living arrangements," he said. "We must get out of Milwaukie.”

“You gonna find new homes for us?” Sandra asked.

“Not for everyone,” Ren said. “But I do have places in mind. Safehouses. If all of you need a safehouse you must share between three of them. Otherwise, I strongly suggest you move on your own.”

Walker nodded and strode around the grouped up candles. “We need to clean up everything at the base,” he said. “Make sure there’s nothin’ for Monarch to find.”

It sounded like a legit plan. But Sandra had a way to improve it. She coughed. “You’re forgetting something,” she said.

Walker looked at her, his stare a question. “What is it?”

“The part where we blackmail Monarch into leaving us the hell alone,” she said. “My camera caught everything. That gives us leverage.”

“How do you propose we do this?” Ren asked.

“Dan snagged a radio,” she said. “We need to meet with them and show them the footage. We threaten to expose the shit outta them. Then we tell them our terms.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Dan said. “I don’t know, Sandra-”

“We’re gonna do it,” she insisted. “Even if you don’t come.”

But Dan shook his head. “I’m not comfortable,” he said.

“It could work,” Walker said.

“What, meeting with them?” Dan asked. “These people? The ones who shot Victor? You wanna negotiate with them?”

“Sandra’s got leverage,” Walker said. “The top brass don’t give a shit about nothin’ but their reputations. That footage could buy us time to get our stuff outta Milwaukie at least.”

Erica looked away and then looked back at them with a smile. “I’m on board, too,” she said.

“I don’t need everyone to go with me,” Sandra said. She looked at Erica. “I want you,” she looked at Walker. “And you.”

Erica beamed, the sun illuminating her facial surface. Walker frowned before relaxing his eyes.

“Are you sure, Sandra?” Ren asked.

She nodded, becoming more sure of her plan. “Yeah. Just take them back to Milwaukie. Get ready for what’s coming.”

For all she knew, this meeting with Monarch would only encourage them to become more aggressive with Adversary. But if it went well, it could save her and the others. And besides, she had come this far to get that footage. Victor had died for it. She had to do something with it. Using it as blackmail was as good a purpose as any. Yesterday, she was a substitute teacher. Today, she was a dead woman carrying out the actions of someone else.

“I’ll go,” Martin said.

Sandra shook her head. “Go home,” she said. “Help these guys out.”

“It’s what Victor would want.” Erica said. It rubbed Sandra the wrong way but this time she held her tongue and changed the subject.

“We’ll take Victor’s car,” Sandra said. “We’ll bring the car to Victor’s family after this is all done.”

Ren nodded, looking at Sandra with what almost seemed like a smile. “Martin. Dan,” he said. “Give her the radio. We’re leaving before she makes the call.”

Sandra opened her hand before Dan placed the two-way radio in it. She could have just cut and run. She could’ve taken her chances alone. Yet she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving these people behind. They had already lost one of their own. Sandra wouldn’t let her people lose another. Dan and Martin squeezed out of the wooden opening. Just before Ren followed, Sandra stopped him with a touch to his shoulder. His shoulder tensed and he paused. When he looked back at her she saw a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen before Victor died. His face had seemingly gone gaunt, as if some integral light had been scooped out. What had Victor been to this man? She knew better than to ask that question. So she asked another.

“What happened down there?” she asked. “In that cave?”

Ren stared at her. “This isn’t the time.”

“I just wanna hear it,” she insisted. “What Victor saw. Because I’ll never hear it from him.”

She heard Erica begin to sniffle. Ren nodded. “Its den may have been hundreds of miles under the cave,” he said. “We saw her. We saw it. The Titan came for the HEAV, but I used the ORCA Z to stop it.”

“You stopped it?” Erica asked. “How?”

Ren only shook his head. “I don’t know for sure. It had something to do with the ORCA’s alpha frequency. Megaguirus let us leave the cave after she heard it.”

“It just let you go?” Erica asked. Ren nodded.

“Thanks for telling me,” Sandra said. “And for everything you did to protect Victor, thank you. Really.

“That Titan. That demon,” Erica said. “It caused all this. You talked to it with the ORCA, Ben. And that drew in Monarch. Don’t you get it? You reached into evil so it reached into you, into all of us.” She began to cry. The sound became magnified in the gas station’s still emptiness; the building seemed to sob with her. Sandra thought if she had to listen to Erica’s ramblings any longer she’d go insane.

“God help us,” Erica whimpered. “Its mark is on all of us.”

“Nah,” Sandra said. “It wasn’t the Titan. It was Monarch that caused all this.”

Ren only responded by nodding to Sandra and slipping outside. Sandra waited until she heard the car grumble away. Then she activated the radio. Erica tilted her head back, the cords on her neck standing out. The blonde let out a loud sigh and stopped sobbing. Walker patted her on the shoulder. She held the two-way radio as one would hold a grenade right before detonating it. Sandra’s fingers began to sweat before she forced herself to stop shaking. Yesterday she was a substitute teacher. Today she was the bad guy.

Moment of truth. Click.

“Get me Russell.” she said.

“Who’s asking?” a disembodied voice said from the other end.

She stifled an impatient sigh. “Who do you think?” she asked.

______________________

Mark welcomed the sight of the G-Team members coming down the hallway, their camouflage colors flowing along the walls of pale concrete. With every step they took he wondered why they’d be here. Perhaps it was to finally escort him out of the hospital. Yet maybe it wasn't that. Maybe the terrorists had done even more damage. The closer the boots came, the louder they echoed from the wooden floors and ceiling, the more he didn’t want to know.

Barnes walked in first followed by Martinez. “How are you doing?” Barnes asked. “We heard about what happened.”

“Fine, thanks,” Mark said. He sat up straighter. “I’m just waiting until they give me the clear to walk out of here.”

“Well,” Martinez said. “Casualties on the field were minimal. Only one, and they’re setting up a cover story for him.”

“Which side was he?”

“The hostile side.”

Mark pressed his lips. He supposed one loss was better than multiple losses. No one could have known the swarm would arrive at the cave right then. Despite the trouble these people had given Monarch, he hoped the victim hadn’t suffered too much at the claws of the meganula.

Martinez handed Barnes a two-way radio. Barnes held it out to Mark. “It’s for you,” he stated.

Mark frowned and took the radio. “Russell,” he said.

“Huh,” a woman’s voice said. “So you’re still breathing. Are your people with you? Are they listening in?”

Someone had stolen a Monarch radio, likely one of the terrorists. He stood from his bed. “Who the hell is this?” he asked.

“You wanna know who I am, Russell? We’re Adversary.”

“Adversary?” he asked, a scowl spreading on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means we’ve taken enough of your shit for too long,” the voice hissed. “Destroying cities, murdering people. Did you really think we wouldn’t fight back eventually?”

“We haven’t done anything like that,” Mark snarled at the accusation. “No, we help people. At least that’s what we were trying to do before you all started fighting us.”

“So your wife starts a goddamn apocalypse and you seriously wanna say y'all help people? Do you even believe that load of crap?”

Mark went quiet at the mention of Emma. He refused to explain himself or Monarch to these people. Instead, he’d cut to the chase. “What exactly do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what you’re gonna do. There’s an abandoned barn near your outpost. I’m sure you know where it’s at. Send your people to that barn. I’ll be there too.”

“And how do I know you won’t try to shoot us or run us down in your car?” he asked.

“There’s only gonna be three of us,” she said. “Bring all of G-Team if you wanna. Let’s talk. Maybe we can talk about why your people gunned down my fucking friends.”

Mark sat heavily down on the bed. The sheet rumpled beneath him. “What?” he asked. “I’m sorry, gunned down?”

The radio crackled. “You heard me,” the woman continued. Her voice started rising and becoming choked. “His name was Victor. They… th-they shot him in the back and you helped them!”

The you came out with venom but it barely added to Mark’s shock. He had heard gunshots back at the cave when things went haywire, but he'd assumed they'd been directed at the giant insects that had stormed in. He didn’t even have to ask to know exactly who was responsible for the shooting. It would be the same people who had been pushing for more aggressive policies in Monarch, silenced countless civilians through intimidation, and had earned the disdain of Ishiro Serizawa. Despite what he had tried to do, the Interpersonal Division had unjustly killed yet another person. Shot in the back. The man had probably been running away. He’d been no threat yet Flynn Grayer or his men had pulled the trigger anyway. He had to fix this.

Barnes and Martinez gazed at him with sorrow on their faces. Coughing came from the radio. Other voices spoke on the other end, unintelligible and hidden beneath the coughs.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. “I truly am.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re sorry,” the woman growled. “I got the entire murder on tape.”

Mark’s heart began to pound. He didn’t even want to imagine the situation if the footage of the man’s death got out. Monarch couldn’t afford an unearthing of skeletons like this. He tried his best to think of something, some magical combination of words that would sway her. In a way she reminded him of Madison, an older and cynical version of her. He had a feeling she’d be just as stubborn as his daughter.

“Wait,” Mark said, trying to channel his best negotiation skills. “I know you’re angry. But this won’t fix anything. Let me handle it-”

“No. We’re not waiting for you no more. We don’t see you or your people at that barn tomorrow, that tape is going public.”

“That’s blackmail,” Mark said. “You’re willing to blackmail me?”

“Fuck yeah I am. Do right by us or the world’s gonna learn the truth about who and what you are. Think I’m bluffing? Then get ready for the shitstorm, Mark.” The radio went silent.

Mark thrust the radio into Barnes’ hands and immediately went for his phone on the table. That woman meant every word she said. This group apparently known as Adversary were in a way, more frightening than Alan Jonah’s group had been. These guys had nothing to lose and were driven by unfiltered rage. Until they calmed down, he and everyone at the outpost needed to act. He raced to call Guillerman.

“Dr. Russell,” Guillerman said when Mark called. “I heard what happened. Are you well?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” Mark said. “I need to know just what Grayer was thinking with what he did.”

“What do you mean?” the director asked.

“The IPD shot one of those people in the back,” Mark said. “I tried going there to stop something like this from happening, but it happened right under my nose. Can you imagine what this will do to us if this gets out?”

“With all due respect,” Guillerman started. Mark’s heart dropped. “You were cautioned against going maverick and trying to negotiate with this unknown group. You should have let Grayer deal with them.”

“He did deal with them and it solved nothing,” Mark pointed out. “They got the incident on tape. The whole thing.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because one of them just blackmailed me over a radio of ours,” Mark informed him. “They want a sit-down or else they’ll go public with it. Grayer’s the reason we’re here. We need to sanction him.”

“I strongly caution against that,” Guillerman said. “Let this go. Grayer is close to catching the people who put you in that hospital.”

Oh for God’s sake, Mark thought. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to keep the record straight. “Really. I am. I’m only worried about what comes next. You and I decided to keep them on a tight leash and now they’ve crossed an obvious line. The only option is to sanction them.”

“How do you plan to do this?” Guillerman asked.

“We send someone to do the sit-down with the people Grayer shot at,” Mark said. “And then we meet with him and his lieutenants. We’re gonna have to fire some of these people. We’ll hand probations out to others as well. That’s how we solve this.”

“The meeting with the IPD sounds fine to me,” the director said. “But I don’t believe it is wise to negotiate with terrorists, especially after the first attempt led to them shooting at you.”

“You’re right,” Mark admitted. “They haven’t been, ah, very peaceful with us. But they told me we can bring all the soldiers we want. I think they wanna solve this without bloodshed.”

“Or they have no other cards left to play,” Guillerman said. “Maybe that tape of theirs isn’t real.”

That made Mark ponder. Without being directly provoked, Ren Serizawa’s group had gone on the warpath, hounding Monarch with savage intensity. And after Grayer killed one of them they suddenly wanted a peaceful sit-down? If they had incriminating footage why would they even bother negotiating with Monarch? It made more sense for Adversary to continue on the warpath and release the footage without the sit-down. This read as a desperate move, a plea to get the IPD to stop hunting them. Perhaps there was no footage of the murder.

Then again, perhaps there was. If Adversary released said footage, the consequences might be too much to bear.

“We do the sit-down,” Mark said. “It’s the safest option. And, if I’m being honest, the most ethical.”

“Why is it the safest?” the director asked.

“If we do the sit-down and this group doesn’t have incriminating footage,” Mark said. “We don’t lose anything. If we don’t do the sit-down and they have footage, they’ll hit Monarch’s reputation.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Guillerman admitted. “How is it the most ethical option?”

“These people risked everything to stop Monarch,” Mark said. “And none of us have tried to ask why. Now that we have the chance, we should learn why.”

“What else did they tell you?” Guillerman asked.

“They gave me a name," Mark said. "Adversary is what they’re called.”

Chapter 25: The Butterfly Effect

Summary:

Sandra faces off with Monarch in a last ditch attempt to secure Adversary's safety.

Sandra had stayed inside the abandoned barn for hours. She was prepared to stay in it the entire day if she had to.

She sat down on the chair at the wooden table after pacing around for the hundredth time. Erica leaned against a wall, bathed in light from a hole in the high roof. Walker strolled into the open door, rifle in hand.

“They here?” Sandra asked, her own gun heavy in her hand.

Walker shook his head. “Nothin’,” he said. Sandra shook her head too.

“Are you okay?” Erica asked.

“It’s the fifth time you’ve asked,” Sandra said.

“You didn’t give me an answer before,” Erica pointed out. Sandra responded with a shrug.

Ever since they woke up in Fig Leaf Lodge the three of them had done nothing but wait. Waiting was the worst. It gave the entire day a sinister, stealthy feel. The rest had fled back to Milwaukie, leaving her and the other two as live bait. She had left the camera with Ren. There was no need to give Monarch the chance to take the camera from her.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Erica said. “It’s gonna work. God wills it.”

Sandra wished she could feel the presence of god like this girl could. Walker leaned against the wall opposite of Erica and put his foot against it. He took out two protein bars. As soon as he locked eyes with Sandra he tossed one to her. She caught it and unwrapped it. She ate it, hoping to distract herself.

The three of them waited another hour. The lone wrapper shifted slightly in the breeze. Sandra’s eyelids began to droop. Wow. Victor had just died and she had the nerve to get sleepy now. She sighed heavily. But the sigh seemed to go on after she stopped. Sandra lifted her head and frowned as the sigh became a low rumble.

Walker looked at the open wooden door. “I hear somethin’. Might be them,” he said.

Sleep became a thing of the forgotten past as Sandra tightened her fingers around her gun.

“I shoulda told you before,” Walker said, surprisingly gentle. “But it ain’t your fault.” Erica nodded in agreement.

Unable to take the sincerity of this man, Sandra fought tears in her eyes. A cold and gusty wind came through. It whistled through the hollowed bones of the barn. A cloud covered the sun, cutting light away from the hole in the roof.

“Thanks,” she said.

The sound of a vehicle came close. The sound of tires rolling on the dirt road made her only a tiny bit nauseous. Then the Toyota crossed in front of the opening, peeling back the empty curtain of safety that prevented this situation from feeling real. The white Monarch sigil marked the car. The tinted windows prevented her from seeing just who was inside. She placed her gun in her lap as the car passed out of view.

“Show time,” Erica said. She faltered before striding for the door. Once she left, Walker stalked for the opening.

“Hey,” she said. Walker turned to look at her. “Be careful, alright?” she said.

Walker nodded before stepping outside and out of sight. Sandra ignored the small voice in her mind that warned her those two wouldn’t come back. Chatter came from outside. She heard Walker and Erica. Car doors slammed. Other voices joined the chatter.

The silhouette of a man stepped in the opening, blocking the light. The man dusted off his suit before stepping forward. As he strode through the shadow he appeared almost as a shadow himself. The sunlight came again through a large window. Flynn Grayer walked into the light, clad in his silver suit, a blue ribbon, and a chipper smile on his face. He strode for the table, spreading his arms as if introducing himself to a captivated audience.

“Sandra Sookdeosingh,” he said amicably. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

The son of a bitch seemed to find this whole thing funny. He folded his hands and smiled down at her, his eyes big and whimsical. Sandra responded without a word, only lifting her gun from her lap and placing it on the table. It was loaded and everything. All he had to do was try something and she would shoot him. She tried to steady her shaking hand.

Flynn’s eyes only gave the mildest hint of surprise. “Ah, so we’re going that way, eh?” he said. “Hey, I don’t judge. I’ll just let you know. I’m not armed. I have a man out there who is, but I’m clean.”

He raised his hands to his head, showing her his empty palms as if to demonstrate his lack of weapons. Sandra only glared at him. She hated everything about this guy. His voice mocked sincerity and his patronizing smile urged her to give him the finger.

He straightened his tie before gesturing to the chair next to him with an open hand. “May I sit?” he asked. Sandra nodded so he pulled out the chair and sat stiffly.

Flynn laid both arms on the table. Sandra kept her right hand on the gun but her left hand rested in her lap.

“I would’ve brought gin,” he said. “But my men drank it all. You know how it goes.”

Of course he wouldn’t get to the damn point. So she would. She cleared her throat. “Flynn,” she said. “The rest of Adversary have left town. They could be several time zones away for all I know. They’ve got the camera, so if anything happens to me or my people outside today they've got orders to publicize all the footage on it.”

He stared at her, not visibly angry or glad. Her eyes became drawn to the black hair that sloped diagonally down his forehead.

“We’ll find them,” he said. “After all, finding people is what we do.”

“Drop the search and you’ll never see us again,” Sandra said. “I know things about you. Things you don’t want getting out.”

Flynn took a deep breath. “You see, my bosses want to meet with me,” he said. “They’re unhappy with the way things went down at the cave. They wanted to do this sit-down with you but I stepped in to do it for them. But still, after this I don’t know what happens next.”

Sandra let him ramble.

“They might put my people on probation thanks to the group you’re defending. Still, me talking to you is what you might call appreciation for the bosses and everything they’ve done for me. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart,” Sandra sneered. “I know who and what you are cause there’s a list. All the families you took from. They’re out there. And we can reach them.”

Flynn shrugged. “You know all about me. I know all about you,” he said. His whimsical smile came back. “Speaking of you, that dog of yours is adorable! You know, when I was a kid I wanted one like that. A German Shepherd. But we don’t always get or keep the things we want, do we?”

The cold knife of fear traced down her back and wiped away her glare. She almost withered under his friendly stare as his huge eyes invaded her privacy. How long had he investigated her? Just how much did he know about her? Had he investigated the rest of the group too?

“Back to the point though,” Flynn said. “Ren Serizawa’s group has caused quite a bit of fracas. They are very dangerous people. We need to hold them in custody.”

“Ren Serizawa’s dead,” Sandra retorted, snapping back into focus. “At the gravel pit I watched your people try and fail to contain the meganula swarm. I filmed it. So if you don’t want us to expose y’all as incompetent, you’d better stop hunting Adversary.”

Flynn only smiled and uttered a quiet chuckle. “Oh, you remember the gravel pit?” he asked. “This group of Ren’s, Adversary, they killed good people there, you know. There’s a ten year old boy named Isaiah. Lives in New Hampshire. Those dragonfly creatures butchered his dad.”

Sandra didn’t respond to his pathetically transparent attempt to guilt trip her. She just let him run his mouth.

“Another soldier,” he said. “Daniel Kudo. Wouldn’t do harm to anybody. They shot him in the back. You think that’s the worst thing they did? No, no.”

“I’mma stop you right there,” Sandra said. “You think you’re gonna guilt trip me? Try again pal.”

“You know what they did that’s worse than the others?” he asked. Then he lifted one hand and pointed his finger at her. “They tried to make you their accessory. They made you feel, well, trapped.”

Sandra leaned back in her chair, surprised at the bizarre direction Flynn had taken this.

“What they don’t want you to know,” he suggested. “Is that you have a choice. Turn them in. Even a little information is good. You give us the location of these people and your record is clean.”

Sandra began to tremble. Flynn leaned in, flashing his bright white teeth in an affable smile. “I can make all this go away,” he said.

She took a minute to process what he had just asked her to do. “You think I’m gonna rat on my people? Fuck yourself!” Her hands shook with rage. Stay focused, she thought.

The time had come to play her final and most powerful card. “I’ve got footage of you murdering Victor,” she said.

Confusion appeared on his face. “Victor?” he asked.

“The man your people shot, dickhead. At the cave.”

Clarity replaced the confusion in his eyes. For once he didn’t smile. “I’ve got footage of all of it,” Sandra said. “You forget you ever heard about us, or I’m going to the press to drop all of that exclusive footage. I’m pretty sure cold blooded murder won’t look good on your resume. You ready to become a liability? Old man Russell’s gonna fire your ass,” she waited for his reaction.

Slowly and surely the smile came back. He laughed as if amused by the whole thing. He laughed like a schoolboy. She narrowed her eyes, wondering how the hell she could actually get him to drop the attitude. At this point she suspected he’d find it funny if she shot him in the chest. Maybe Flynn truly didn’t care what happened to him. At that realization she became about as weak and helpless as a wounded mouse in front of a playful cat.

“Wow,” Flynn said, chuckling. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Stop laughing!” she demanded. His smile and stare didn’t waver. Not a hair shifted on his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t be so rude. After all, you saved me all the searching.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“Yeah!” he said. “Me and the boys, we had no idea how to look for Ren and his people. Then I found your Instagram.”

Sandra didn’t stop herself from gaping. It had been true. Her Instagram post had led Flynn right down Adversary’s throat. Her next retort died in her throat. Flynn went on.

“That post of you at the hotel really helped us out,” he said. “You’re a rockstar with the camera, by the way! Keep it up.”

The shootout happened because of her. Victor had died all because of her. The horrible realization settled in, making her seasick. What Walker had said was a lie. Her mind side-slipped crazily and she saw herself sitting with Victor at the hotel. He gazed at her with the soda can in his hand. His eyes, which she had believed would be eternal, held unconditional promises. He warned her about the picture and she insisted that one selfie was okay.

Flynn looked at her with a deadly disconnected curiosity, the cat pondering which way to swat the injured mouse.

“Relax,” he said. “All you have to do is get rid of that footage and give me Adversary. And don’t worry, we have witness protection. Bulletproof. No one’s gonna touch you.”

Perhaps it was pointless to fight. If she gave up her group she would go back to her purgatory, not leaving her house except to walk alone and work at the school. It would be what she deserved. Victor had been such a bright dude. He deserved to be alive. The longer she stayed with Adversary, the more she would wreck shit for them. Someone else would die because of her. Perhaps Martin would be next. Erica, Ben, and even Walker might be next. Sandra’s hand released the gun and slipped away from it.

Flynn watched her. “Hey look,” he said. “You don’t need any of those thugs.”

At that word her resolve gained purchase. “Thugs?” she said. “Seriously? They’re my people.”

“Who says you need people?” Flynn asked. “Look at you, you’re strong enough to stand on your own.”

Sandra put her hand back on the gun. He didn’t know a damned thing. It wasn’t about needing people. It was about wanting people. Anger flashed up from that all too common well she always had. It made a yellowish flame in her head, burning away her despair and tempting her to pull the trigger on him. He had basically told her that her loneliness didn’t exist, as if she never needed all those nights spent with her therapist. According to him, the anguish that drove her to smoke cigarettes never existed either.

“You don’t know a damned thing about me or my needs.”

A hint of surprise jumped into Flynn’s eyes. Sandra prepared to say more, then held back. She leaned back, pretending to think her decision over.

“You know what?” Flynn said. “These kinds of decisions take time. Think it over. We’ll meet back here in two days.”

She nodded and looked away from him, refusing to meet those big eyes of his. His stiff form moved the chair back and stood. He straightened his suit before turning and striding away. Sandra didn’t make another movement until Flynn walked out of the opening and vanished behind the wall. Picking up the gun, she tried to go over what would happen next. Then she remembered her part in Vic’s death. The gun spilled out of her hand as the irrevocable horror touched down again. She shuddered in her seat. The tears came forward and she cried in a world of gray. A set of footsteps approached her and her frantic hands flew up to wipe the tears from her eyes. She sucked in the sobs as Erica’s voice came from the blurry silhouette that approached.

The blonde woman put her arms around her shoulders. “Sandra, honey are you okay?”

She didn’t answer. Walker ran over as well. “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing,” she managed to choke out.

These people were her family now. They’d never know her guilt, but she would spend the rest of her days making up for what she caused. They still had Vic’s car. She remembered where his parents lived. As Walker and Erica walked her out of the barn she decided she would drive their son’s car to their home in Milwaukie and leave it there.

Chapter 26: A Temporary Fix

Summary:

Mark Russell deals with the Interpersonal Division. Sandra seizes an opportunity to move on.

From the journal of Riley Douglas

It is unclear whether I should call the operation at the cave a disaster or a success. The details are still coming out and it does seem that unfortunately, people died. However, there have been no signs of meganula anywhere since the operation. The swarm was seen and documented going into the cave.

Yet this leaves more questions than answers. The evidence we have suggests that something curious happened when the suspect group took the HEAV into the cave. Before the drone was sent into the cave two acoustic signals came from the cave. At this point the meganula swarm flew into the cave.

One of the bioacoustics matched Megaguirus. But the other matches the sound an ORCA would make. Some may call it conjecture but I think the ORCA-like signature is linked with Ren Serizawa being from Apex. They had the capabilities to make their own ORCA. Frankly, that possibility makes my hair stand on end.

If these suspects have an ORCA that makes them a much more dangerous threat than any of us could have imagined. Around here, some have talked about a second mass awakening. Foster’s already talking about sending people to guard the cave entrance just in case.

But some have wondered about the role of the HEAV snatchers in getting rid of the meganula threat. One man, before he defected to this group, had always had disdain for the creators of the Mass Awakening. Could he have joined this unknown group because they could put the proverbial genie back in the bottle? Every swarm needs a shepherd. Did the ORCA call them back to the nest? Or did the ORCA make Megaguirus call them back? It’s impossible to know the answers until we find this group. And they must be found as soon as possible.

_____________________

Mark walked toward the big conference room. Some of Grayer’s men had said Adversary was armed with an ORCA but he doubted it. The IPD agents would say whatever they needed to in order to justify their actions. What was about to happen wasn’t something he’d ever wanted to do. But he’d had this coming. He was certain that one way or another this had all been set in motion long ago by Emma’s Folly.

The residual effects went on for a long time. He had heard about the pirates who tried to steal a Titan, the battle between Godzilla and Scylla, and even the plant Titan incident. However, he had never experienced them in the flesh. He had to get his hands dirty for this incident with Adversary. Perhaps it was his penance. Or at least something approaching a penance.

He opened the door and strolled into the conference room. Guillerman, Grayer, Shaw, and a couple others he didn’t recognize sat around a table while the other IPD members sat in the auditorium-like seats. They were all here already, him being late. Of course.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything important,” Mark said. “I apologize for my tardiness. The hospital visit didn’t make things easy.”

“No need to worry,” Guillerman said as he stood up. “Do you wish to start?”

Mark nodded. “Let’s get down to brass tacks,” he announced. “What happened at that cave was a disaster, plain and simple.”

“Captain Grayer, we share goals completely,” Guillerman said. “But as veterans in this business there are rules and regulations that must be followed with no exceptions. We must keep within our mission statement and legal lines.”

Mark stood shoulder to shoulder with Guillerman, facing Grayer and his lieutenants at the table. Grayer frowned, his Cheshire grin nowhere to be found but his gaze still locked on him.

“Say your piece,” Guillerman said.

“With all due respect,” Derek Shaw started. “We’re wasting time here. Those people, Adversary, are still out there.”

“I doubt they’ll attack us again,” Mark said. “Considering you shot one of them.”

“Or maybe,” Shaw said. “They’ll just fight us harder.”

Grayer cleared his throat. “I spoke to one of them,” he said. “We’ll meet in a day.”

“Excellent,” Guillerman said. “Whatever the outcome of your meeting, Adversary is off your radar. At least for now.”

“We’re so close,” Grayer said. “We’re so close to catching them. The girl might turn her people in. We could have them in a couple days.”

“If they come peacefully,” Mark said. “Fine. But if they don’t, the funding to track them down is zero. They have footage that we can't have out there.”

“Janson, Reed, Calvin, Xin, you all will stay after the meeting,” Guillerman said. “Understood?”

Uncertainty jumped into Grayer’s eyes. Shaw frowned. They both knew exactly what that meant. “Understood,” Grayer said reluctantly.

“You sure that canning four of us is a good idea, doc?” Shaw asked. “Like I said, these people are still out there, and they aren’t gonna stop. Every minute they’re free all the good men and women of Sisters are at risk.”

“Alright,” Mark cut in. “Calm down, you’re not pursuing the Weather Underground here.”

“But we’re pursuing a man who came back from the dead and machine-gunned a bunch of your men down. I mean, ain’t that what happened, doc?”

“Captain,” Guillerman began again. “Your next task is to direct your people to global repatriation efforts. In light of recent events, this is the best use of your time and resources. At the moment, there are Ospreys available for you to use.”

Grayer and his lieutenants nodded. But Grayer’s stiff form had gone just a little slack. It was as if a fire inside him had died. Guillerman regarded Grayer with detached eyes. “You have more to say?” the director asked.

“I’m just sayin’,” Shaw said. “Adversary is more dangerous than you think. Stanton thinks they’ve got themselves an ORCA.”

“We’re looking into it,” Guillerman said. “If that is all, then this meeting is adjourned-”

“Hang on, is that it?” Mark asked.

“Do you have more?” Guillerman asked.

“I do,” Mark said. Then he faced Derek. “Shaw, you stay behind too.”

______________________

Sandra ran her fingers across Ian’s back, running her fingers over the hills and valleys of his fur. She eyed the claws on his feet. They dug into the blanket. Someone would probably have to change it or something. It wasn’t gonna be her. She had gotten all her affairs in order, resigning from her job and deleting all her social media. It sickened her to look at her own posts anymore.

She rolled slightly on the bed, twisting her head around to look out the window. The gloomy morning sun had just emerged, bringing the empty promise of another day. Sandra went back to stroking Ian. Despite her many frustrated yells and attempted shoves, the dog had insisted on laying on her bed. She had finally given in and accepted that her territory was his territory as well. Besides, it didn’t hurt to be with some company.

Both of her wrists were bare. The watch rested on her table beside her laptop. She’d wear it later. Monarch’s offer rolled through her mind again. She’d never sully Victor’s memory and rat out Adversary. As much as she tried not to worry about him, Flynn Grayer’s chipper smile danced behind her eyes.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered to Ian. She crept off the bed and over to the window. She searched the road for any car with an hourglass sigil. None.

They knew where she lived. They had to. If they knew about her dog and Adversary’s plan they definitely knew where she lived. She wandered over to her door and looked out the peephole. Nothing but an empty hallway greeted her. She made sure the door was locked and went back to the bed. Ian’s lazy eyes fell on her as she climbed onto the blankets beside him.

“It’s the day,” she told Ian. “Flynn’s gonna expect to meet with me at that shitty barn. What’s Monarch gonna do if I don’t show?”

As if in answer, the German shepherd raised his head from the mattress. She rubbed his face, unable to stop her smile.

“Maybe…” she started. Then her phone vibrated in her pocket. Ian startled at it and stared at her hand as she reached for the phone.

A text had come to the Adversary group chat. Another came. Then another. When she read them, her eyes widened. Danny had bugged a conference room at the Monarch outpost. With his computer he had listened to the directors talking to each other about the meeting they had with Flynn Grayer and his soldiers. Russell and Guillerman had fired a bunch of Flynn’s soldiers, including the one who shot Victor. Apparently Shaw was his name. A bolt of surprise went through her as she read that they had called Flynn off from hunting Adversary. For now, Danny specified.
There was hope, enough time for them to get the hell out of dodge.

She realized two truths at the same time and forced them to sit next to each other. She had shot at Russell yet he had acted in her favor. Maybe he had been scared of her. Or maybe he had better intentions in this entire thing than she had suspected. She remembered him waving his shitty megaphone around like a white flag. Could he have meant to stop anyone from getting hurt at the cave? That question crawled into her mind like a slow, creeping mold. She tried to shut the book on the question but Dan’s text stared up at her.

A text came from a different contact. Erica. Sweet, batshit crazy, lovable Erica. She had arrived in her car to pick her up and take her to their new location: Jordan, Montana. Sandra’s gaze swept to her suitcase laying on the floor, fully packed and ready to go.

“You ready for the trip, boy?” she asked Ian, rubbing his back.

Hopping off the bed she put her laptop in its case, opened up her suitcase, and put it in. She grabbed the leash and held it up. Ian sat up, his paws now restless as if someone flipped a switch in him.

She laughed. “Now you’re ready aren’t ya?”

Her laugh faded once she made for the watch Victor gave her. She picked it up and wrapped it tight around her wrist. Her eyes closed and she breathed out slowly through her mouth. The dog hopped off the bed, panting with excitement. She put her leash on him and grabbed her suitcase. When she and Ian walked out of her room for the last time, Sandra didn’t look back.

“You’re leaving already?” Charlie asked her in a playful tone, sitting behind the front desk.

“You bet I am,” she said, slapping the keys in front of him.

“Dang,” he said. He smiled. “What’ll you do without me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, smirking. When Charlie rolled his eyes she said, “Take care of yourself, dude.”

When Sandra opened the door to walk out into the cool morning air, Erica’s Volvo remained parked beside the sidewalk. The way the sunlight fell on nearby fences created sweet orange yellows. Being sweet could never be overvalued. Victor had been sweet. Sandra looked down at her watch. His kindness had been sweet, his manners had been sweet, and the blood that spilled from his back in his final moments was probably sweet too. Sweet had held her like a second mom. Dad had told her she was sweet. But that had been when she was around what, ten or eleven? She wondered if he would think she was sweet now.

Head held up high, heels clicking against concrete, Sandra led Ian to the Volvo.

“Hi!” Erica exclaimed, sticking her head out of her open window. Sandra beamed at her.

“Doors are unlocked,” Erica said. Sandra opened the back door and ushered Ian inside. She closed the door and opened the trunk. She placed her dark red suitcase alongside Erica’s pretty pink suitcase before slamming the trunk closed. She climbed into the passenger seat.

“How are you?” Erica asked. She drove down the street.

Her blonde hair was messy. She had clearly gotten out here in a hurry and Sandra appreciated it. “I’m good, considering what happened. How ‘bout you?”

“I had a good cry before coming to get you,” Erica said. “I have no tears left. The sky is no longer sad, so maybe our suffering is done.”

Sandra made a half-nod before giving the blonde an incredulous glance. “Sorry, how can the sky be sad?”

“When it's cloudy and raining,” Erica said as if it was a matter of fact. “God has no other way to show his sorrow.”

Sandra just accepted it and nodded. “Sure. So, did Ben prepare a house for us out there or what?”

“I found it,” Erica said. “Myself. But we have a long way to go.”

Sandra groaned. “Tell me about it.”

“We’re gonna be roomies!” Erica said before bouncing to another subject. “So what are you gonna do with your footage? Should we leak it to the press?”

“Not yet. Ben said we should lay low,” Sandra said. “So we should lay low. Bad things always happen if we don’t lay low.”

“You’re right,” Erica said as she crossed onto the highway. Trees and buildings whipped by. Ian’s paws batted at the back of Sandra’s seat. “We’ve got no rush.”

“Uh, we actually do have a rush,” Sandra said. “We gotta get far enough away from Flynn and his guys before they track us again.”

She pondered exactly when she would release the footage of the Monarch dudes murdering Victor. “The time will come to burn them down,” Sandra said with finality.

“All of them?” Erica asked.

After a moment of thought, Sandra shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not all of them. Just Flynn and his men. They’re the ones who’ve got to go.”

Erica smiled and looked at the road ahead. “Absolutely.”

The highway went on and on. Sandra leaned her head back, her lazy gaze drifting out her side window. Yesterday she was a substitute teacher. Today, she was a proud agent of Adversary. And her group had big plans ahead.

_____________________

French Quarter - New Orleans, Louisiana

January 14, 2027

Nights weren’t usually quiet around here, but tonight was an exception. Maybe it was something about the air. Maybe God had simply winded things down himself. Whatever the reason was didn’t matter one bit to Oscar Peterson. He preferred it this way, people in the street minding their own business while he minded his.

Oscar straightened his cowboy hat. One club’s sign shone in great purple neon letters. Lafayette Pub. That was the one. Oscar headed for it, eyes open for any unpleasant folks that would be out at near midnight. He thought about Betty at home. She knew he wouldn't be out on the town, as those days were behind him. Yet she hadn’t questioned him as he left the house. She surely knew that there would be no stopping him from seeing these people.

The little sign on the door told him the club was closed. Good. That meant this group was active. He pounded the door with his fist. When no one answered he opened his calloused palm and clapped it against the glass.

That brought along someone’s attention.

A young looking man with a dimwitted face ran up to the door, stared at him for a minute, then opened the door. “Hello sir!” the kid greeted. Oscar stepped past him with barely a glance. The kid moved sheepishly out of the way.

“Where are they?” he asked, wanting to get down to business.

“Well, follow me,” the kid said. He put on a meek grin and hurried deep into the building.

As Oscar followed him through the empty club the boy turned on lights to show the way. He followed the kid as he turned and went down a hallway. He passed by a couple bathrooms. Carpeted stairs awaited them at the end, heading to what Oscar presumed was the basement.

They descended the steps. A dim light teased Oscar from below. Once they got to the dimly lit bottom the kid held his hand out to the door that waited several feet away. “They’ll be in there.” he informed Oscar.

The kid headed back up the stairs as Oscar examined the light coming from behind the door. The silhouettes of people moved around inside. He thought he smelled a dog. The square light above him flickered slightly. Movement came from the shadows nearby.

“Stay right there,” a female’s voice commanded.

From the deep shadow right beside the door an Indian looking woman strode out into the light. Her single braid trailed down behind her as she examined him with skeptical eyes. A German shepherd padded past her to approach him.

“Hang on,” Oscar said. “How do I know you’re Adversary?”

The dog began sniffing him, tracing a path up his leg with its nose. He allowed it.

“Did you expect us to have T-shirts?” the woman asked. “We’re them.”

“What’s my son’s name?” Oscar asked. If she knew this, it meant she told the truth.

“Victor,” she stated without a shred of hesitation.

Oscar nodded. They were legit. The dog stalked behind him and continued sniffing him. Its claws clicked on the linoleum floor. It circled him once, then circled him again. Oscar frowned in concern.

“He won’t bite,” the woman said. “Not unless you piss me off.”

The dog turned and wandered back to the girl. She presented her hand and the dog nuzzled it. She strode up to Oscar with her head up high.

“Lemme see your ID.” she said, holding her hand out. On her wrist she wore a dark brown watch that looked vintage. He reluctantly pulled out his wallet, opened it, and slipped his driver’s license out. She took it from him and looked it over with hasty eyes. She handed it back to him.

He stepped forth but his chest met her hand. She held him back. “What?” he asked, running out of patience.

“Relax dude,” she said. She proceeded to pat him down. The dog sat beside the door, watching him.

The woman straightened up and beckoned him with a finger. He followed her through the door as she opened it outward. Several people turned to face him, some standing and some sitting. He scanned them and their faces. His son had known these people. They had been good to him, and Victor had been good to them. Vic didn’t have a mean bone in his body.

But Oscar was not his son.

“He’s clean,” the girl announced.

A blonde lady came up to him. “Your son was such a good man,” she said. “He’s watching us from on high. And we’ll make a difference for him.”

Oscar looked at her with what he hoped was an unreadable expression. But he couldn’t stop his guts from twisting. His heart burned. Had he been alone, he would’ve weeped. Together, they would make sure the world didn’t belong to Monarch.

A lanky Japanese man strode up to him and the blonde moved aside. He could tell this guy was the leader from the way the others looked at him. His weathered face and hard expression told Oscar this guy had taken his share of licks.

“Welcome to Adversary,” he said, looking Oscar right in the eyes.

The dog nuzzled his owner’s hand. The woman ruffled the dog’s fur and sent it away from her before standing up straight. “Our world,” she said.

“Our future,” everyone else responded.

“Our world,” she said considerably louder.

“Our future!” the others responded around him.

“Our world!” she chanted.

This time Oscar joined in. “Our future!”

She raised her fist. “Our world!”

Over a dozen fists raised into the air, including his. “Our future!” the group roared.

“Our world!”

“Our future!”

The chants continued as the night went on.

_____________________

From the journal of Riley Douglas

The Devil’s Cave entrance has been sealed for weeks now. Yet we are still forced to grapple with discoveries from inside it. The role of the Titan within isn’t entirely clear but a picture is beginning to form. When we got the HEAV back it was thoroughly examined. Scale flakes were found on it almost definitely from Megaguirus or the meganula. Tests were done on the flakes we managed to collect. These are shed scales. They have properties within them that correlate with soil fertility.

I honestly doubt Titanus Megaguirus has ever actually reached the surface. Aboveground, the creature is invasive and would only hurt the environment. But down below I think she has a role to play.

I’m so thankful we’re improving the outpost to better study that cave, but we’ve only scratched the surface of how far this goes. Many of us think the Hollow Earth is limited to the distant habitat of the Titanus Kongs, but the incident at the Three Sisters proves that TItans can make their homes right under our noses. The cave systems in North America alone are extensive and largely unexplored. It is currently unknown just how big these caverns can get or how far underground they extend. What undiscovered superspecies live inside? More importantly, will we find them before they find us?