Luke collapsed into a seat in the passenger section. Next to him, an unconscious Collins was nodding off, his torso heavily bandaged. He looked much better—maybe he'd been injected with the energy syringe? I hope he doesn't get addicted to it.
"The men bothering you?" Laption asked as the boy gave a long sigh.
"You could say that." He'd spent the better part of an hour giving out his signatures. He didn't know it could be this exhausting; his legs ached, scolding him for staying upright for so long, and his fingers felt like they were broken. Compared to the treatment he'd faced in the cargo section, he now felt like he was in a warm, peaceful bath.
Luke reclined his seat, and closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, he could tune out the sounds of the rotors whirring outside and the soldiers bustling about behind. His eyes started drooping . . .
And then the helicopter dove down.
"What the—" Luke yelped as his seatbelt squeezed his abdomen like a nut in a nutcracker. "What's happening?"
"Everything's fine," Laption assured him as the boy peered through the door window.
In the cargo section, the soldiers had been caught off guard. Loose crates slid around, taking out men left and right. On even crashed into the door—his cheek smearing the glass all the way down. "We've reached our destination."
"Could you give me a warning next time? My heart's racing—I thought we got taken out by a SAM missile!"
"This is your warning. Look to your left."
In a moment of surprising obedience, Luke listened. His mouth dropped open as he observed the outside surroundings. His grip on the armrest tightened—and it wasn't because he was scared.
Beneath him lay a sprawling campus the size of four football fields, surrounded by a tall wall. But what Luke noticed as surprising was the buildings. In a nation where modern resources had been stripped, every building inside the walls was a skyscraper—built with glass and steel. Of course, the compound had been militarized—soldiers, missile trucks, and vehicles were everywhere. The thing that caught Luke's eye the most was the building in the center, which comprised of half the space. "Is that . . ."
"A hospital?" Laption finished, nodding. "Sure is, bud. Isn't she a beaut'?"
"How can this be in Central Artena? Didn't everything get raided?" Luke's mind whirled. A fully intact hospital during wartime was a shocking thing—it was a piece of infrastructure that should've been respected, but militaries often treated the institutions as weapons themselves. Luke had to admit, hospitals were a powerful force to rechon with.
"We're different from civilians. The Wartenians? They can't do anything against us."
"You mean . . ."
Laption smirked. "Welcome to Bear Alpha. Our forward operations base in Central Artena—with a fully functioning Level One Trauma Center."
~~~
"Hello! How may I help you this afternoon?"
The receptionist—a plump woman in her late thirties—looked up as footsteps approached. The brilliant smile on her face wavered slightly—before coming back—as she noticed the boy with torn clothes, as well as the dirt he left on the shining floor.
Meanwhile, Luke was in a daze—it had been a while since he'd walked through clean hallways, marble flooring, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling. It felt like a dream—one that he shouldn't be having. Every million-dollar painting he found on the walls reminded him of a civilian's home being burned to the ground by the Wartenians. The antiseptic faded away to the scent of gunpowder—and blood.
It just wasn't fair.
When the woman spoke, Luke pushed his feelings out of sight and flashed her a friendly smile. "I'm looking for Captain Collins' room."
The woman looked confused. Then her expression cleared. "Ah! Joseph Collins." She looked down at her computer screen.
Joseph. Luke hadn't expected Collins to have such a . . . normal name. But at the same time, he didn't know what he'd been expecting. Joseph didn't sound like a soldier.
It sounded like . . . his dad's name. It was his dad's name.
No. He couldn't go back there. Back to the gunshots, fire, and the start of his tortuous journey to what he became now.
"May . . . I ask your reason for visiting Mr. Collins?" The receptionist's voice brought Luke out of his thoughts. She'd read through the captain's file—and he was pretty important. A dirty guy like the boy in front of her had no business with him.
Her left hand crawled toward the underside of the table—toward the panic button. But she kept her friendly expression up.
"He's . . ." Luke paused, unaware of the woman's actions. What was their relationship?
I did save his life. But then again, if Luke hadn't met Collins, he wouldn't have been in such a situation in the first place. "He's my friend."
There. It was the safest thing he could say.
Looking at his genuine expression, the receptionist felt pity. Her hand froze. Then she told him the directions. "I hope he gets better soon," she said.
"I hope so too." Then Luke rushed further into the hospital.
~~~
Room 402. This was it.
Luke took a deep breath, grimacing as something nasty filled his nose from the open door of 401. Then he swung the door open.
Inside, thankfully, smelled much better than the hallway. The seats for visiting family as well as the white walls had been soaked with bleach. The only reason Luke knew he was in the right room was a touch of blood on the sink handles—as well as that familiar ripped bifold wallet on the counter.
As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, a window lay fixed upright on the furthest wall, showcasing the eastern part of Bear Alpha. The skyline was blocked by numerous skyscrapers—but Luke didn't mind. With the number of missile sirens that had gone off since he'd landed here, he wouldn't be surprised if there was a fighter jet in the sky at this moment. Yet another sad fact of reality for this country.
Just like the rays of sunlight, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where Collins lay on a hospital bed. He looked peaceful as he slept, and if Luke didn't know any better, he'd think that the captain was A-okay.
But the boy knew that if he ripped the blanket off his lap, the gruesome wound would still be there, reminding Luke of the things he'd done wrong.
"This isn't where you should be," Luke muttered as he closed the remaining distance, hands in his pockets. "This is—"
"'All my fault'?" Collins cranked open an eyelid, giving away that he wasn't sleeping. "C'mon, Luke. You're always so predictable."
The boy was so relieved that he didn't mind the slight dig. "Are you okay?" But he wasn't. He was in the hospital, and had been for a few days—Luke'd just not visited because of his guilt.
"The doctors said I could be released tomorrow afternoon—but I think that's to deal with the side effects of the stimulatory prototype. Other than that, I'm about ready to go home to my family."
"Nice," Luke said awkwardly, then paused. Nothing else seemed appropriate to say. He didn't have a family of his own like Collins to return to after every deployment. "You have . . . two daughters?"
"They're all grown up now." There was a distance in Collins eyes, as if he was mentally somewhere else right now. "One's twelve. And the other's your age. But you know that already—meaning my guilt trip worked." Collins smiled wryly at him.
"I just didn't want them to be alone," came the quiet reply. I didn't want them to go through what I did, he wanted to say, but his voice was stuck in his throat.
"You have a valiant soul for that effort." Collins yawned. "And a brain. Never in a hundred years would I have thought to use a grenade like you did. It makes me debate the usefulness of wearing a vest myself."
Luke tried to laugh. "I meant to ask you this later . . ."
"Go for it right now."
"Well, it's not that important, but I was wondering if you saw the aftermath of . . . what happened."
Collins took a pause, as if planning his sentences. When he spoke, each word felt deliberate and thoughtful. "Like you, I was in no state to see anything. But my soldiers did tell me about what they saw . . ."
"That's great." Luke sighed in relief. Maybe if he heard about what had transpired, these distracting thoughts would exit his mind.
". . . or rather, the lack thereof," Collins continued. "Most of them just saw the explosion—then hightailed out of there before reinforcements arrived. But one of them talked about how he saw a person running out of sight as the flames subsided."
Luke's blood ran cold. "Wait. He's saying that someone survived the explosion? Who?"
Collins shook his head. "I'm not sure about that. He had something to do in East Artena and hurried on off—you see, he's more of an administrator for us. But he lost a bet . . . so frontline service for a week it was!" He smiled. "Though never in a million years did I think we'd get captured."
But Luke's mind was still on the explosion, though. "It shouldn't be possible for someone to survive that," he muttered. Even he and Collins had been in danger from the shrapnel. But he couldn't ignore an eyewitness. "Once you go back to your agency, could you . . . ask him the details of what he saw for me?"
"Of course. Anyways, Isn't there one more question you want to ask me?" Collins pulled out a gray rectangular box the size of one of his fingers—the thumb drive.
Luke's eyes widened. "Why do you have that with you? Anyone could've stolen it while you were unconscious!"
"The information on this thing tells me that it might just be safer to keep it on myself at all times," Collins said gravely. "Though I trust you, so there's no point in hiding it."
"Well, you better. I almost sacrificed my life for it." Luke's anger was only half-kidding.
"It has come to my attention that we have a mole in our agency." Collins let that sink in. "The name's House—and they've been keeping regular contact with Scarlett from an East Artenian IP address. Or rather, has been."
Luke felt a pang in his chest. Talking about his ex-girlfriend in the past tense was a hard thing to do."An IP address proves nothing. For all we know, Scarlett could've been signed up for a newsletter or something."
Collins shook his head. "I've seen the messages. They've been leaking secret intel about East Artenian movements all over the three countries—something only admimistrator-level staff can have. This mole . . . is probably a higher-up in our agency. And I have no idea who it is." A glint of defiance showed in his eye. "But I'll find it out myself—after I'm out of this damn bed, of course."
Luke would've applauded him—but then the captain couldn't help but yawn. It was clear that the captain still had a bit more time to go before he was back in action.
And Luke took that as his cue to exit.
"Get well soon," he told the captain, then quickly strode toward the door.
"What are you going to do now?"
The question made Luke stop as he pulled the door open, a moment from exiting. "Laption said he owes me one, so he's going to give me a ride in a few days' time to somewhere in East Artena. After that . . . I'll . . . probably try to find my family." When he saw Collins' curious glance, he added, "My mother and sister."
"How do you plan going through with this endeavor?" Collins asked. "Finding someone in most cities in East Artena is hard enough—we got separate police squads for that. But a nationwide search . . . with only you?"
"I'll figure something out." Luke didn't know what he'd do, though. With all the things that had been floating through his mind, his family problems had completely skipped his mind. "I know their names and their habits."
"Instead of relying on yourself . . . why don't you let me help out? I'm serious," the captain added when Luke shook his head. "I know you don't want any pity—but how about we make a deal?"
"I'm listening."
"You need our resources, and I need your competence. Come back to my agency with me. Join our agent-training program as an undercover operative to find the mole—and in the meantime, we'll get to work finding your family. I swear on my title as Captain of the Fifth Batallion."
Luke thought about it for a moment, then turned and walked to the doorsill without any words. Collins sighed in disappointment; he;d been so close to working together with this prodigy for a second time.
Then Luke said, "Call me when we're leaving." A moment later, he was gone.
Meanwhile, Collins grinned. Jackpot, he thought.
With Luke on his side, he'd make sure the mole would regret their actions.