The Edge Of Justice

The Edge Of Justice Chapter 29

The Marines who'd been burned were lifted by those of us who could still walk, while the Spectres were carried by their own. We went west, they went east, and no one made a move to stop them. Katrina brought a finger to her ear, looked back at them, shook her head, gave an affirmative, and pressed on, my body weight no doubt slowing her down. Both helicopters landed about forty feet away, the rotor wash almost knocking me over. I stumbled, bringing Katrina down with me, and we rolled in the dirt. She stood and grabbed me by the shoulder, lifting my arm and bringing me up. I stood, my equilibrium finally reverting to normal. I waved her off, shouting that I was fine, and turned back to ensure the Marines were making it.

Blaster was helping Adder, who kept trying to push him off and walk on his own. I ran over and slid under Adder's arm, helping Blaster support him. We moved him to the chopper and laid him down, and it was then that I noticed the blood gushing from his leg. I ripped his pant leg, and saw nothing but blood bubbling from a cut on his thigh. I reached into a pocket on my calf and removed a bandage, slapping it onto the wound, yelling at him to keep pressure on it. His hand came down and pressed, the blood flowing out of his leg slowing markedly.

Katrina ran up then, jumping into the chopper and turning to offer me a hand. I grasped it, but something stopped me, a shadow in my peripheral catching my attention. I spun, hand on my ninjato, when a Spectre stood up from a bush near the chopper, sword in hand. It was a woman, the cut of the D-23 showing a slim figure. I tensed, ready for a fight, when her sword came down, the blade in her hand, the handle pointing toward my chest.

The barrel of Katrina's rifle came out of the chopper, and she shouted at me to get down, but I turned and grabbed the rifle barrel, pointing it upward. I motioned to the woman, and she came forward tentatively. I grasped the handle and took the blade from her, and motioned toward the chopper. She jumped in and Katrina zip-tied her hands together, sitting her down on the bench. Blaster trained a gun on her, and I pulled myself into the helicopter as well. I gave the pilot a thumbs-up, and he nodded, pulling back on the stick and bringing the chopper into the air. I pulled on a set of headphones and motioned to Katrina, who did the same. “Why did you allow her on the chopper?”

“She surrendered, what did you expect me to do? Not to mention that you almost killed her.”

“Dexide isn't gonna like this.”

“I don't care what Dexide says, I'm not gonna kill someone who surrendered.”

“You are the Ghost, are you not?” a strange voice said with a heavy Italian accent said, and we both turned to see the woman leaning toward the hull of the Blackhawk, the set of headphones on the a hook picking up her voice.

I nodded, and she grabbed the headphones and laid them in her lap, then brought her hands up to her mask, pulling it off. A cascade of brown hair fell to her shoulders, framing her green eyes, thin lips, and long neck. She crossed one leg over the other, then slipped the headphones over her ears, positioning the microphone near her mouth. “I have heard much of you,” she said, leaning back into the bench.

“And here I am at a disadvantage, I have no clue who you are.”

“My name is Nikki Morlezia,” she said, bowing her head. “I had heard much the Ghost from America, and I wanted to meet you.”

“So you surrendered to me, knowing that you will probably spend the rest of your days in a jail cell?”

“For what? I have done nothing wrong, and your people have no reason to hold me. I did not even attack you when you entered the food hall and my comrades did.”

“Food hall? We call it a mess, or even a cafeteria,” I chuckled.

“Ghost, don't make jokes with the prisoner,” Katrina interrupted.

“She's not really a prisoner, because she's right. She didn't do anything. What can we hold her for?”

“The Patriot Act enables us to hold anyone we wish for as long as we wish without charging them,” Blaster interjected. “She'll probably be shipped off to Guantanamo Bay as soon as we're home”

I turned back to Nikki. “So, spend the rest of your life in a Cuban prison, or make yourself useful. Which is it?”

She laughed. “I only showed myself to you because I wished to do so, Mr. Ghost. I am wishing to make myself useful, which is why I surrendered instead of killing you from behind.”

I turned to Katrina. “I like this one. Can I keep her?”

“I thought I was enough for you,” Katrina mumbled.

“Do I look like the type of man that can deal with just one pet?”

“Did you just call me your pet?” Katrina said, sarcasm dripping from her voice, before she slapped my arm.

“Did I stutter?”

“Hey, I'm probably dying over here, and you people are joking around like nothing happened!” Adder shouted from the floor, where the chopper's medic was just standing up from tending his leg. I motioned to the man and he switched on his headphones, and I flipped to a different channel, signaling for him to do the same. “How is he?” I asked once he had.

“It's actually not that bad, nothing four stitches couldn't handle. He'll be fine within days, especially once we get him to a hospital.”

“How long till he's fit for duty?”

“A week until the gash closes fully and he can be back in the saddle.”

I switched back to the community comm channel, which was silent, and it stayed that way until we reached the base. When we got back the C-130 was fueled and ready to go, so we piled on and I gave the pilot a go after securing Nikki to the bulkhead seat, and cuffing her legs to a ring at her feet. “It's a long flight, so get comfortable.”