"Hey, Tango, drive more steadily. I'm about to get sick from all this movement, for God's sake."
I tried to suppress the rising nausea, swallowing hard.
Tango glanced at me through the rear-view mirror and laughed out loud.
"Sure, 'bud.'"
Instead of slowing down, he accelerated.
"You sick psycho…" I muttered under my breath.
Time passed in a blur. The city lights were almost non-existent as we drove on, worsening the nausea churning in my gut.
"Hey, Delta, what was the mission brief again?"
I tapped my earpiece. For a few moments, the comms stayed silent.
Then they crackled to life.
"Your mission is to retrieve Virus-G from the abandoned research center. Combat is highly not recommended unless the situation calls for it. Gamma, we're putting our trust in you."
Splrrt.
"Damn it. She cut off the comms," I muttered.
Beta, who had been sleeping with her head resting on my shoulder, jolted awake when a huge bump sent us all jumping.
That damn driver.
"Jeez… what was that? An earthquake?" Beta muttered beside me.
"Nah," I said, annoyed. "Just Tango being the most idiotic driver he's ever been."
Alpha, lounging in the front passenger seat, joked lazily, "The road's bumpy, but the vibe is blimey!"
I suppressed a laugh—not because the joke was funny, but because of the audacity.
"Shut up, you fucking Brit," I said, my mouth twitching despite myself.
I looked over my squad. Two corporals and one sergeant.
Hah.
Just another day on the job, I thought.
Beta glanced over her shoulder. "What's the matter, Gamma?" she asked, curiosity clear in her tone.
I looked back at her. "Nothing. Just thinking of a plan."
I closed my eyes, trying to get some rest.
Everything went black.
When I came to, I realized I'd been knocked out cold.
Hah… how long had it been since I'd gotten proper rest? Since academy days, maybe? Good God.
Memories flooded in as my consciousness drifted away from the present.
I could still remember that bastard Professor Feng Chui, droning on about his boring theories—or "facts," as he liked to call them.
Academy Study Hall
"Professor!"
Someone shot their hand into the air.
The professor turned to the curious student. "What is it?" he asked, eyes settling on the girl.
"Is it true that a 'Subject' is really dead after infection and completely unconscious?" she asked, resting her chin on her hands.
The professor's eyebrow twitched upward as a faint smirk formed on his lips.
"Of course. The victim is no longer in pain. Now be quiet, Clara," he said, turning back to the board.
I watched with discontent. This lazy bitch, I muttered silently.
Then I raised my hand. "Professor."
He looked back again—this time curious rather than annoyed. After all, it wasn't often that someone considered a genius asked a question.
"Yes?" he replied immediately.
"Can you explain the core concept behind STAS?"
"STAS?" He nodded. "Alright."
He set the chalk down and faced the class, hands resting on the desk.
"STAS—Special Tactics Against Subjects—is a special division regarded as the top of the top. You'll be recommended after graduation, once your systems have fully matured."
He scanned the lecture hall.
"Unlike other divisions such as MAQRT—Medical and Quick Response Team—or SEPS, Special Enforcers of Public Safety, or even regular military units, this division is designed exclusively for the best of the best. Being accepted is something people celebrate for the rest of their lives."
His tone was flat, as if he'd explained it a thousand times already.
"The privileges are astronomical. So are the risks. You'll be assigned countless dangerous missions. Becoming attached to your teammates is practically a death sentence."
He paused.
"Any more questions?"
The room fell silent.
"Very well. Now, where was I?"
A hand tugged at my arm.
I opened my eyes to see Beta shaking me gently.
"What is it, Beta?" I asked, still groggy.
"Gamma, we're almost there," Tango chimed in.
"What… Sector Four?" I asked.
"Duh. Where else, boss?" he smirked.
"Alright," I said, rolling down the window. "Don't die. I'm not dragging your heavy ass."
The engine shut off, and the vehicle fell silent.
"Well, everyone ready?" I asked, glancing back.
They all gave a thumbs-up.
"Let's move."
My hands were steady. Rifle cocked, we cleared each room like we'd done CQC countless times before.
"Gamma reporting in." I tapped my earpiece.
"Hillside clear. What's the ETA on backup?"
"Copy that, Gamma. Intel confirms the hillside is clear for extraction once you secure Virus-G."
"Don't fail us now."
The comms went dead.
"Typical," I muttered.
We spotted several Subjects standing around, clueless.
I raised a clenched fist. My squad froze.
"Drop them."
Two suppressed shots rang out. Both "Subjects" collapsed before they could react.
"Good work. Move up."
We cleared the upper floor.
"Empty," Tango reported, stepping out of a room.
"Same here," Beta said.
"Negative," I added.
"Sir, it might be here," Alpha called.
We entered the room together. In the center sat a briefcase labeled Virus-G.
"Delta, confirm identification. Over." I activated my body cam.
"Hold on, Gamma. Checking."
Moments passed.
"Confirmed. Leave immediately."
I picked up the briefcase and handed it to Alpha.
"Hold onto this. We're moving."
As we crossed the facility, an uneasy feeling crept over me—like something was about to go very wrong.
"CONTACT!" Beta shouted.
Shit.
"Subjects" poured in from everywhere. How the hell had we missed them?
"Move! Move!"
We bolted down the stairs, only to find more waiting below.
"Main exit's blocked! Ground floor!"
We ducked into a room and barricaded ourselves inside.
Then I heard it.
Crying.
I checked behind us. Nothing.
Then I looked under a desk.
A woman in her twenties was crouched there, shaking. She was crying—but no tears fell. What the hell happened here?
"What the hell…" I muttered as I scanned her up and down.
"Hey," Tango said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"
She tried to speak. Her mouth opened—but no sound came out.
"…Help…" She managed to let out with all her might.
"Don't worry," I said, handing her a bottle of water. "We'll get you out."
She drank eagerly.
"Delta, I've got a +1 package. Over."
Silence.
Then Delta replied, sighing before doing so, "+1? Your mission is to extract the sample, not civilians. However, you may bring her after confirming her condition."
I checked her vitals.
No infection. Nothing abnormal.
She looked at me—really looked at me.
"What's your name… sir?" she asked weakly.
"My name…" I paused. "Kael. My name is Kael."
"You three, check the perimeter," I said. "I'll catch up."
They nodded and moved out.
Minutes passed.
"Sir, perimeter clear. "Subjects" seem to be falling asleep," Beta reported.
"Good. Moving with +1."
I tightened my grip on my rifle and gestured for the girl to follow.
"My name is Ivy," she said quietly.
"Ivy, huh?" I nodded. "Alright, Ivy. Let's get you out of here."
We regrouped with the squad and moved out together.