First Mission

The next day comes and goes, and the time for my first mission arrives. Just as discussed, we leave in the afternoon, and after ‘bout three hours of driving, we arrive at the pickup location. Waiting there for us are three black cars; the one in the middle is armored and has the “item” inside.

Roj steps out of his bi-tank and heads over to the driver-side door of the main car. He knocks twice on the window, waits two seconds, and then knocks twice on top of the car. The window opens just a crack. I see Roj speak a few words and then get back into his bi-tank. The main car blinks its lights three times, prompting the other two cars to leave. With that done, we begin our drive back, now with Item #3112.

With all of our lights turned off to reduce visibility, seeing becomes much harder. All we have is the light from the night sky—the partial cloud coverage not helping. There is a radio channel for communication, but we keep it mostly silent to stay focused.

About an hour in Roj comes over the channel. “Turn on your lights, we have been spotted.” What the hell? I didn’t even see or hear anything?

We all turn on our lights, making a set of vehicles visible in the far distance.

Aria speaks next. “I’m counting two motorcycles, two cars, and a van. Confirm.”
“I confirm,” says Phillip.

“It is unclear if these are enemies, and there could be others. Remain vigilant,” orders Roj.

As the vehicles grow closer to us it becomes apparent that these aren’t our friends. Their formation consists of two motorcycles in the front and a van with a car on either side in the back. The motorcycles have guns mounted on both sides and the van appears armored.

Suddenly, the cars split off, and from their windows men pop out with guns—they rain fire.

Roj shouts orders over the radio. “Clara, get the left car! Georgia, the right! Aria and Phillip, flank the van! Terrance, you and I will protect the goods and meet the rest of them head on!”

Nobody says, “Yes sir,” or anything like that—it’d waste time. Everyone immediately gets to work as soon as an order leaves Roj’s mouth.

Clara and Georgia confront the cars, unloading explosive shells. They miss. Aiming is difficult when you have to be perfectly lined up with your target, and these guys seem skilled, bobbing and weaving around their shots. They return fire, but the bullets ricochet off the armor of the bi-tanks.

Phillip and Aria go to flank the van when Phillip comes over the speaker, “We’ve got a problem! Three more motorcycles just popped out of the back of the van!” Right on cue, three motorcycles emerge from behind the van, two veer toward Aria, and the other heads toward Phillip. One from the front peels off and takes a wide path around everyone to get behind us.

“Terrance! Protect the goods! I will get that motorcycle!” Roj commands. He leaves me—I won’t let my training fail me.

I move in front of the transport car, aiming straight at the motorcycle and van behind it. I shoot an explosive shell. The motorcycle swerves out of the way and it hits the van directly. It’s too soon for celebration though; the van’s armor takes the explosion head on, only leaving some scratches. “Damn it,” I whisper under my breath.

The motorcycle gets back in front, closing in on the transport car. It opens fire; even though the car is armored it can only take so much.

I get an idea.

I disengage and pull up behind the car. Per instructions, it’s only supposed to swerve away at the last second.

Roj, apparently done with his opponent, comes over the radio, “What the hell are you doing, Terrance?!”

“Ain’t a thing to worry ‘bout, sir.”

I set my bi-tank’s hover height to max, propelling me onto the back of the car. Ramping off its back window, I soar into the air. I immediately set my hover to its minimum, using just enough power to stay airborne. Waiting until the last second, I turn it off. My front wheel collides with the man riding the motorcycle. It tears at him, throwing him off the bike. I can only assume he’s dead. The van is ahead of me, our collision imminent—or at least that’s what you’d think. A man climbs out of the side window of the van and fires at me as I continue falling. The bullets bounce off the bi-tank, the gunfire reverberating in my head. My pounding heart makes it barely audible. Just before hitting the ground, I fire an explosive shell at the van, using my downward angle to target beneath it. It explodes, triggering a chain reaction. The van launches into the air, giving me just enough space to accelerate and fly under it. The transport car swerves left, narrowly avoiding getting landed on by the van.

With Roj and I’s help, the rest of the enemies are swiftly defeated. While getting out of the bi-tank to search for survivors my nostrils are met with a strong burning odor. Bodies lay on the ground covered in a nauseating, pungent aroma.

“Blahhh!” I puke at the sight and smell of the burning corpses.

Clara walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We all dealt with this at first, but you’ll get more used to it.”

I turn my head towards her to say something, but then hurl again before saying, “How could you get used to this?”

She looks almost hurt by what I said. “Maybe that isn’t the right wording—you become more capable of handling it.” Her hand stays on my shoulder as she stares at the ground, seemingly uncertain of what else she can do.

“I found one!” Phillip yells.

To make sure the survivor stays unconscious, Roj shoots him with his energy gun. We continue searching, but don’t find any more. Roj takes the captive with him and we all get into formation around the transport car, continuing our journey back to the hospital in the usual silence.

Eventually, we make it to the hospital and drop off the item. After parking in the garage, Roj immediately walks over to me.

“What was that back there?” he asks, irritated.

“I had an idea, sir,” I answer, smiling.

“You are fortunate it worked out the way it did.” He walks off without saying another word, taking the captive with him. I let out a long breath. That went better than I expected, especially considering that I put the goods at risk. Here’s hoping it won’t come up at the debriefing tomorrow.

Phillip walks over and smacks me on the back a little harder than I’d like. Laughing, he says, “You might as well have a death wish pulling something like that.”

Aria walks over to me and puts up her hand to shake. “Welcome to the team.” Phillip’s jaw drops to the floor—literally, I think. Clara and Georgia put their hands over their mouths, holding in gasps of disbelief.

My eyes widen at the sudden welcoming from Aria, but then I pull myself back together and smile while taking her hand. “I’m happy to be here.”