Force Majeure

“Methane– natural gas. That must be it. The adjacent waters are being prospected for deposits of methane ice, after all.” Maho said. Her voice was heavy with the night’s travails. 

In the company of the civilians, they were finally using English again.

“And you didn’t think it worth mentioning that we might have been walking into a powder ke– I mean, that whole parts of that island are liable to explode from a spark?” Theo replied.

“There were no reports of gas deposits on the island. I did not think that factoid relevant. For that matter, how did you know that there was gas?" she asked. Theo shrugged.

“Call it a hunch. I’ll tell you what though. You’ve won. I’m just about ready to have nothing to do with this country for a long while, so–” he said, adding, “Look, it wasn't bad at all working with you. Sorry for calling you a paper pusher.”

Maho didn’t quite know how to react. Before she could form a reply, he changed the subject, ironing out the final details of their exfiltration. 

After that, Theo left Maho at the wheel and made his way to the foredeck, to keep away from the civvies huddled up at the back of the boat. He was still wearing a balaclava– the damn thing was full of rips and tears– but he was still careful not to draw too close. The hard wood creaked as he rested his aching body. Luckily, Maho’s boat driving wasn’t as hectic as it was on land.

It had been just his luck that his radio was still working after all that, and Maho wasn’t too far off to pick him up when he hailed. They hadn’t spotted any of the creatures since that explosive conclusion, but the slough on that clifftop was not nearly enough to account for the larger creature, so they weren’t taking any chances. 

Chance. It was pure chance that saved him on that clifftop, Theo thought as he reached for a water bottle– and spilled it all over the deck. His hands were shaking, violently. 

Theo was struck dumb. The last dregs of adrenaline were still coming off, but that shouldn’t been reason for his hands to shake so much. No, this wasn't adrenaline; rather, it was entirely something else.

What’s wrong with me?

Something flashed brightly in the sun, and Theo eagerly welcomed the opportunity to occupy his straying mind and body. Far ahead, he sighted the thing they’d been steaming towards by the puffs of smoke. The warship rose above the horizon, the looming dawn dappling its dark grey flanks in crimson. 

As Maho drew them up alongside on the larger ship’s quarter, Theo threw the double painter lines at the uniformed figures on deck, and the Maya-class destroyer of the JMSDF let down its embarkation ladder. As their small boat wallowed in the swell, the JS Haguro stood vigilant, its single 5-inch gun sending round after whistling round outbound, to the island that was now far behind them.

The civvies were first to go up, then Theo. Maho would stay to help rig the boat up to the ship’s crane before following. A sailor in coveralls helped Theo aboard on the last step.

“Welcome to the Haguro.” he said smarmily, as though to comment on Theo’s state of dress. Theo drew in an amused breath; the sailor looked like he was on the wrong end of a twelve-hour watch himself. 

He elected to give the swabbie a little surprise, with the civvies shepherded away. Theo finally took off the balaclava. He gave his best smile, soot and crusted blood from head to neck in full display. His blue eyes blazed through all the black and purple. 

“Pleasure’s mine. You boys enjoy your trip to Singapore?”

Thursday had long broken clear and sunny by the time one of the Haguro’s rigid-hull inflatable boats conveyed Theo, Maho and the two sleeping civillians back to dry land. They were picked up on the dock by a car and were off in less than a minute. 

All of their things from the island had been disposed of or were pending sterilization, including their clothes, and for the first time in a while Theo was back in a BDU uniform courtesy of the JSMDF. Maho, somehow, had procured her usual two-piece suit. The civvies only had hospital gowns on; they would be dressed more appropriately on-location. 

They arrived at the destination to a few guys rigging the place up for surveillance. The average modern domicile was already well-equipped to provide all the data an enterprising individual could ever need on its occupants, but the Kurose house was long enough in the teeth that manual installation of bugs was proving necessary. 

Though Ema along with her father had already been “sanitized” and cleared for release, they would still be subject to monitoring for some time. But for the moment, their part in this was over. For the other two, this was just a stop; Maho and Theo had a debriefing to attend elsewhere.

Before he left, Theo visited the sleeping Ema with nothing particular in mind. She had been dressed in pajamas, straight out of her own closet.

“You’re gonna wake up with a hell of a headache.” he said, kneeling beside. 

That was when he noticed something, after bracing his hand against the edge of her bed. It no longer shook– both of his hands no longer shook.

“They took well to the procedure. We anticipate no side effects.” came another voice. 

Theo saw Maho standing in the doorway. “It’s for their own good. You know that.” she added.

He lingered before answering. For what must be the last time, Theo wondered what the sleeping girl's dreams were like.

“Yeah.” 

 

Theo was shaken awake by a suit with sunglasses, and took in the new surroundings. The driver had taken them out of the city and into the foothills not far away from the original safehouse– what was now Theo’s place– for the debriefing. 

He felt like he had only slept a second. As far as he was concerned, Theo Lovell was still running on empty. Beside him, Maho was next to be roused, and looked to be thinking the exact same thing. That he was still in this damn country was hardly any more relief either. Theo consoled himself. 

Just this one more thing, and the next wakeup will be back home.

The quartering party from Maho’s organization had selected a fine site, tucked into a row of agricultural warehouses that could have hidden a whole battalion. Only a few vehicles occupied the space, and all were unremarkable and unmarked save for one.

Theo and Maho exited the car to a pristine white trailer that dominated the center of the warehouse. It was by far larger than any other vehicle in the room. Metal stairs led up to a single entrance. 

On the other side of the meter-thick door, they were as isolated from the rest of the world as they would be in a deep-sea trench. A gangly man with a long v-shaped jaw received them with disinterest, and his team performed all the rituals of Intelligence with equal indifference before clearing them for the next room.

The main room was ten-feet tall and about eight-feet wide, and was fitted with a confusion of TFT LCD screens, computers, telephones and much more esoteric objects. Though the room was equipped to coordinate the activities of an entire region, only one of the stations was manned by a single woman.

Theo frowned; the culmination of his marveling at the sudden appearance of all this high-end equipment, when not a few hours ago Maho was using a jury-rigged drone nicked off a high school to knock down an eldritch monstrosity. A few JDAMs would have been very damn welcome then. 

Funny how quick all these “limited” resources could be brought to bear when it was the top brass who were coming a-knocking, he thought.

The man with the v-jaw bent down to the woman’s ear to whisper something, before turning back to them. In velvet tones, he spoke in perfect English.

“This communication will be held in English.”

Theo looked to Maho to try and read her reaction. If she thought anything of it, she didn’t show. The gangly man continued, turning to him first. 

“Your call sign is ‘Boston’, your director’s call sign is ‘Providence’.”

Then turning to Maho. 

“You are ‘Auckland’, the honorable director is ‘Oslo’.”

Before the debriefing began, the man with the v-jaw retreated to the other room, leaving them alone with the woman operator and Theo and Maho’s respective bosses. The operator gestured; Maho was first up on the plate.

“Oslo, this is Auckland.”

Through the speakers, the voices of the two directors sounded godlike. Theo well knew the female voice on the other side. The other voice was an old man’s, strangely gentle in comparison to the Program’s leading lady. 

If Theo wanted to know what to think about Director Lasch’s counterpart, he only had to look to Maho, whose expression hovered between fear and awe all throughout her turn. Less than a debriefing, it was more like an interrogation. 

“According to this, the larger specimen was not recovered following your exfiltration.” the old man said skeptically. Maho was sweating bullets in the fully air-conditioned room as she answered.

“We– I decided that we did not have the necessary firepower to engage the larger specimen. In light of this, I prioritized safety of the civilians, and relocated to better coordinate assets using the more capable facilities on the JS Haguro.”

The rest of their exchange followed along that vein, with Maho getting grilled for the finest details. Just as it seemed that she would melt from the heat, the old man changed lanes. He started praising her, though not without praising the Americans as well. 

Naturally, Theo thought it was all a meandering circus, not helped by all the differing jargon between their two organizations. He had to devote much of his attention to deciphering their conversation– an issue that his director apparently did not have with how easily she inserted herself.

“… additional JMSDF assets are converging on the vicinity at this time, but there is sufficient evidence to postulate that the Delta Oscar incursion has been repelled. Overall, Auckland’s handling of this operation is to be commended. There is still the issue of our uninvited guest , which will require an expansion of our operations in–”

“Of course, this means that the honorable director will still be needing the services of our operator.”  interjected Lasch. The old man was about to broach the subject of the sorceress-at-large before she had cut in. 

For how much less the English speakers had spoken so far, Theo wondered why this debrief was ever in that language to begin with.

Wait a second, what did she just say? 

“Providence, this is Boston. You don’t mean– “

“Congratulations, Boston. Your performance has impressed our friends at D5. They want you to stay on to provide support, until such time that they sufficiently bulk up their assets in the region.”

The casual revelation rocked Theo like a hammer. “Do our friends anticipate that the situation will deteriorate to such an extent?” he said mechanically.

“Not so much as anything like that. Think of it as a show of solidarity. Though our adversaries have been deterred at present time, I’m sure that the Japanese will still have ample use for your skills.” she replied with the finality of a death sentence. He dreaded what he had to ask next. 

“And for how long is that?”

“As long as you’re needed. Of course, you will be operating under their chain of command in the meantime. I think it’s high time we cleared that up, isn’t it, Oslo?”

Theo had no place in the ensuing exchange between the brass. He spied Maho’s face painted all over with unguarded surprise, and was sure his own face was white as a ghost. A thought asserted itself in his mind, before he dismissed it as unworthy. 

Was this whole goat rope ever meant to be an “in and out”, Lasch?

The two directors worked out their new arrangement. And the boy– barely a man– who would remain Theo Lovell resigned himself slowly to the situation. He told himself that this is where the Unit wanted him to be.

So much for that wakeup.