《The journey of Sonata Jackson: Back in Action》


 Chapter one: Coming back

    Unknown, Location, Summer of 2010


    SSgt Julia Vance and her three man team were going through a jungle where out of the blue they were ambushed and shot at with only Julia being alive but badly wounded.


    ***


    July 4th, 2010, Dillimore, Little Bird.


    A dark olive green 1942 car came and parked in the driveway and a caucasian male in dark olive green pants and dark olive green jacket with black full windsor tie and white collar shirt.


    ¡°Sonata?¡± said a male voice, ¡°Can I talk to you?¡±


    Sonata got up from gardening and turned out where it¡¯s her brother Staff Sergeant Paul Jackson..


    Sonata escorted her brother into the house, a prefabricated enameled steel house.


    Can I get you a cup of coffee?¡± asked Sonata.


    Paul replied, ¡°I¡¯m not here to have a social visit. It¡¯s a business visit.¡±


    ¡°I left the Special Forces four years ago to start my own family even though me and Julia got married last year,¡± said Sonata.


    Paul replied, ¡°Sonata¡­ Julia and her team are MIA and within three days the rest of the War Department are going to label them as K.I.A.. We haven¡¯t had any transmission or communications with them. I have a feeling that Julia and her team are still alive but they won¡¯t send another team to investigate it.I know it¡¯ll be dangerous and what not. Come on sis. It¡¯s your wife that¡¯s missing.¡±


    ¡°If I go then who¡¯s going to watch my kids?¡± asked Sonata.


    Paul replied, ¡°Me and my wife can watch them for as long as the time you¡¯re gone.¡±


    ¡°Who do I bring with me one this?¡± asked Sonata.


    Paul replied, ¡°Anyone you want.¡±


    ¡°I got one stop to make,¡± said Sonata.


    ***


    Clearlake, Little Bird.


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    ¡°So who¡¯s on your list?¡± asked SSgt Paul.


    Sonata replied, ¡°The same guy I worked with three times and had impregnated me twice.¡±


    Paul Jackson drew a short blank because Paul didn''t care who his sister sleeps with nor gets involved in her personal life due to the fact that she''s an adult not a baby.


    ¡°So who are we looking for?¡± asked SSgt Paul.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Sergeant Mitchell Steven Waterson and a few of his friends whom I had the pleasure of working with twice and they saved my bacon once.¡±


    SSgt Paul was about to say something until they heard a female voice shout, ¡°CLEARLAKE POLICE! Stop!¡±


    They then saw a caucasian male wearing a white collared shirt, black full Winsdor tie, dark blue suit jacket, dark blue trousers, a pair of black loafer shoes, a dark blue police cap, and aviator sunglasses.


    The male just leaned against the building and stretched his right arm out and closedlined the person running from the female police officer. They saw the male kick the suspect onto his stomach and arrest him.


    Sonata looked both ways before she crossed the two way street.


    ¡°Hey um excuse me?¡± asked Sonata, ¡°Do you know where I can find a person named Mitchell Waterson?¡±


    The same caucasian male turned around and took off of his sunglasses and it was who Sonata was looking for.


    ¡°Sonata? What can I help you with?¡± asked Mitchell.


    Sonata replied, ¡°I came here to see if a few friends can help.¡±


    ¡°What kind of help?¡± asked Mitchell.


    Sonata told him that Julia is missing and she¡¯s out finding her friends to help her to find her and Mitchell was one board to help.


    ¡°Do you need any on else for this mission?¡± asked Mitchell.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Yeah I need four more.¡±


    ***


    At the town¡¯s Elite Operations Detachment building.


    Jack Skybolt and Samuel ¡®Sam¡¯ Hartstock were in their cubicles with Sam just doing a month load of paperwork and Jack was eating a cheesesteak submarine sandwich.


    ¡°Hey Sam. Hey Jack,¡± said Sonata, ¡°Find doing me a favor?¡±


    Sam replied, ¡°What kind of favor?¡±


    Jack was going to say something but he didn¡¯t due to having a full mouth.


    ¡°My wife has been missing for the past three days.¡± said Sonata, ¡°And I need help finding her.¡±


    They were both in to help Sonata to help her but Sam pointed out that his wife is pregnant and he would like to be home when his wife goes into labor even though they have seven months to go.


    ***


    At a building.


    Mitchell knocked one a door and a female voice told the person to enter.


    Mitchell opened the door and Sonata saw a petite young woman sitting one a chair behind a desk.


    ¡°Mackenzie Rose? How are you doing?¡± asked Mitchell.


    Mackenzie replied, ¡°I¡¯m doing fine. What are you doing here? I know that I paid my taxes and I know I didn¡¯t break any laws.¡±


    ¡°Oh Sonata is here and she wants to ask you a question.¡± said Mitchell.


    Mitchell then called Sonata into the office.


    Mitchell then left the office and Sonata entered it and after a few minutes Sonata came out and told her brother that Mackenzie Rose is on board and Paul asked how she convinced her and Sonata told her that but Sonata told him that she told Mackenzie Rose that while it¡¯ll be off the books but she¡¯ll be rewarded.


    SSGT Paul signed due to it¡¯ll be off the books but there¡¯s going to be no reward but now he has to squeeze something out of the War Department now to pay Mackenzie Rose.

 Chapter Two: Training

    While walking out of the building after talking to Mackenzie Rose.


    "Where did Mitchell go?" asked Sonata.


    SSgt Paul replied, "He got a call so he had to run."


    ***


    A few minutes ago.


    Mitchell walked out of Mackenzie Rose''s office and closed the door after Sonata entered. He picked up his walkie talkie when he was called over it to assist in a public indecency so he ran with his right hand on his twenty-three inch wooden baton.


    ***


    Now.


    ¡°Oh Sonata.¡± said SSGT Paul, ¡°Don¡¯t want to sound rude. But you¡¯ll need to redo training to lose the baby weight you gained.¡±


    Sonata slapped her own brother for him, more or less of him calling her overweight or feeling fat but Sonata has been getting some exercises mostly by running to keep her cardio up.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go to Ft. Colossal tomorrow morning at 05:00 HRS.¡± said SSgt Paul, ¡°It¡¯s an Army Base and Airforce Base home to the 8th Multirole fighter wing, 5th Medical wing, 14th Recon wing, 12th tactical bomber wing and 11th Transportation wing. And home to the 39th Airborne Regiment.¡±


    ***


    Tomorrow morning.


    At Fort Colossal.


    Sonata stretched her legs and arms before she yawned.


    ¡°Why do we got to train at Five in the morning?¡± asked Sonata.


    Paul replied, ¡°Just a one day training and we¡¯ll be deployed.¡±


    Sonata had to run the mile track which she ain¡¯t use to running a mile but half a mile.But she kept breathing and kept running.


    ¡°How was that to wake you up?¡± asked SSgt Paul.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Go fuck yourself Paul.¡±.


    ¡°I bet it was a fun way to wake up.¡± said SSgt Paul.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Give me a reason I shouldn¡¯t hit you or kick you in the nuts?¡±.


    ¡°Because you love me because you¡¯re my sister and I¡¯m your older brother.¡± said SSgt Paul.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Yeah I do love you because you are my brother but running a mile is not a great way to start off the day!¡±


    Sonata then went to the obstacle course and Sonata shocked Paul that she¡¯s still in fit and as Sonata said that even though she left active service and more or less a desk jockey in the town of Dillimore armory but she still does some physical exercise.


    ¡°Is this getting back at me for becoming a desk jockey?¡± asked Sonata.


    Sonata then got off the monkey bars and cracked her fingers.


    ¡°No Sonata this isn¡¯t about you becoming a desk jockey with an eight to four job.¡± said SSgt Paul.


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    Sonata replied, ¡°It feels like this training is getting back at me though.¡±.


    ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± said SSgt Paul. ,¡±I want you to be ready enough just as if you were a soldier.¡±.


    Sonata then kept going with the physical exercise until eight thirty in the morning. Paul had Sonata go to the firing range and gave her a X16 and as if she was still a soldier she either hit the bullseye or close enough to the bullseye.


    ¡°Good shots but I can do better.¡± said Sgt Mitchell.


    Sergeant Mitchell took the X16 and placed a twenty round magazine and placed all twenty 7/62x52mm rounds into the bullseye.


    ¡°I spend a quarter of my free time on the police or military firing range,¡± said Sgt Mitchell.


    Sonata replied, ¡°And the rest of your free time?¡±


    ¡°I spend it with my wife, our kids and my friends.¡± said Sgt Mitchell.


    Sonata replied, ¡°Okay then interesting.¡±


    "Is anyone else going to come with us?" asked Sgt Mitchell.


    Staff Sergeant Paul told Sergeant Mitchell that he hasn''t thought about finding another person to join them but Sergeant Mitchell told him about his half twin sister Cadenza Amore a twenty-year-old woman who''s apart of the Little Bird Armed Forces Special Warfare Group Three.


    "Who is she?" asked Sonata.


    ***


    At a farm a mile and a half outside of the town of Clearlake.


    "Nice car in the driveway." said Sonata while getting out of the car.


    "Hey Cadenza!" shouted Sgt Mitchell.


    The person who was working on the car hit their head on the hood and the person turned around to be a twenty-year-old woman with a brunette hair color wearing a black muscle shirt, jeans, socks, and tennis shoes.


    "Hey Cadenza I wanted to know if you want to join us for a international mission off the books type?" asked Sgt Mitchell.


    Cadenza replied, "Sure. What''s the mission type?"


    "Travel light with search and rescue." said SSGT Paul.


    Cadenza replied, "So recon and search and rescue then?"


    Staff Sergeant Paul nodded his head in agreement.


    "I would like some more information about the mission." said Cadenza, "Before we go there."


    SSGT Paul replied, "That''s classified information."


    "You''re a Staff Sergeant." said Cadenza, "I''m a Commander. I''m a O-5 and I outrank you. Even though I abhor nepotism and favoritism but my father is General of Special Operations."


    SST Paul knew who her father was and is and he''s not a man to piss off not adding he''s the most decorated soldier in the Little Bird Armed Forces who earned a lot of medals even seven medal of honors in the Vietnam war.


    "Do you know how to shoot?" asked SSGT Paul.


    ***


    Several minutes later.


    Cadenza placed a blindfold over her eyes and she couldn''t see not even her lever-action rifle. Her half twin brother, Mitchell sat seven glass soda bottles onto the fence.


    Cadenza took a deep breath and fired all seven rounds and all seven rounds hitting the bottles.


    Sonata and Paul besides Mitchell had their mouths opened with shock and surprise.


    Cadenza took her blind fold off and saw the glass on the fence where she wasn''t shocked nor surprised that she hit the seven bottles.


    "How long have you been shooting, Commander Amore?" asked Sonata.


    Cadenza replied, "Since I was four-years-old. First with his fine rifle here and with a M1903 Springfield and a M1 Garand. I fired other weapons but the three rifles I mentioned I commonly fire."


    ***


    5:00 pm, at Ft Colossal.


    In a dark room. There was a map of a country.


    "It looks like a slice of pizza." said Sgt Mitchell.


    SSGT Paul cleared his throat and said, "This country is called Salaqueras. The population is four and a half million. There''s a lot of small towns and one capital city and lots of farmland and forests... And a shit ton of terrorists."


    "A free fire zone." said Cadenza.


    Mackenzie Rose replied, "There will be a lot of people who are either too scared or just want to live their life in peace. It won''t be a entire free fire zone."


    "This is where Julia and her team were last at and her team last know location where the distress beacon. Near this location of Azoda." said SSGT Paul.


    "Once we''re on the ground?" Asked Sonata.


    Sgt Mitchell replied, "All of the terrorists'' and their supporters are on the ''Open Season'' list. The rest are on the hold your fire list."


    "What do mean by ''Open Season'' Mitchell?" asked Mackenzie Rose.


    SSGT Paul replied, "He means that the rules of engagement for the terrorists and and their supporters that they can be killed."


    "My favorite rule of engagement." said Cadenza.


    She''s some kind of a blood knight, Sonata thought, She enjoys the carnage of war! Or enjoys fights.

 Chapter Three: New place

    1:00 AM


    On a Nightingale VTOL.


    Oh boy it''s been awhile since I done this, Sonata thought, Can''t believe we''re going to do a HALO jump.


    Sonata looked at Sergeant Mitchell who was wearing the Little Bird Armed Forces Combat Armor which is dark olive green and is primary armor assembly, including a split breastplate, pauldrons, gorget, and abdominal ring. The sleeves of the bodysuit are full sleeves and include armor plate protection for the upper and lower arms. The lower body is protected by woven pants and incorporates no hard armor, armored boots. The armor encasing the foot and lower leg is articulated, not sealed. While this permits longer wear times and more comfortable and sure footing.


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    Sonata then looked at Mackenzie Rose and her brother who was wearing the same thing but theirs''s was black which to her was fitting for their covert operation.


    "Guess I missed more than I thought." said Sonata, "Guess it''s jump time."


    Sergeant Mitchell jumped first then Commander Cadenza, Sam, Jack, SSGT Paul, Mackenzie Rose then finally Sonata.


    ***


    On the ground.


    "Who was that?" asked Sonata, "The one who took us here?"


    SGT Mitchell interrupted, "Alright quick recon says there''s fourteen armed males. AK series rifles. Probably more in other parts of the town. Not going to mention that there''s a fucking fortress or stronghold that''s overlooking the town."


    SGT Mitchell then climbed over a wall and he pulled out his Mark Three Combat Knife with serrated blade and stabbed a guard who wasn''t looking in the heart and placed his hand over the guard''s mouth. He then moved the body out of sight.


    They then moved out but kept their surroundings cleared and made sure no enemies would spot them or alert the others which would be bad.


    The group then entered the basement of a house where they would set up their base of operations for the time being.


    II hope you''re here Julia, Sonata thought, I really hope that you are here.

 Chapter Four: The mansion compound.

    ***


    In a basement.


    "It''s suicide we don''t have the manpower to go into the mansion place." said Sergeant Mitchell.


    SSGT Paul replied, "With backbone like that it''s hard to believe that Germany fought two wars nearly thirty years apart!"


    "Oh fuck you." said Sgt Mitchell, "But it''s high likely that they moved Julia or she''s dead."


    Sonata replied, "If there''s a snowball chance in Hell she''s there I''m getting her out!" she also slammed her hands onto the table. Sonata and Paul then left while Mitchell, Sam, Jack, Cadenza, and Mackenzie Rose stayed behind.


    After a few minutes in a vehicle soon another vehicle was rapidly approaching where it was Mitchell, Jack, Sam, Mackenzie, and Cadenza fastly approaching. The car that Paul and Sonata were in crashed.


    "I wasn''t driving so you can''t put the ''blame the woman driver card'' on me." said Sonata.


    Mitchell stopped the car he was driving but they got shot at.


    "Mackenzie go and check on them." ordered Mitchell, "Jack, Sam, Cadenza form a permitier."


    Mackenzie Rose went over to them but she put her MP5K onto the ground but Sonata was fine but Paul wasn''t due to he hit his head hard enough to break his nose and knock a few teeth out. While she was checking on them they were getting shot at by the Butchers terrorist group but Mitchell, Sam, Jack, and Cadenza had no problem shooting at them in returning fire but they made sure they didn''t hit anyone who didn''t shoot at them.


    They cleared the area.


    "I need to get Paul back to our Base of Operations." said Mackenzie Rose, "He''s in no shape to keep fighting."


    Mackenzie Rose did and while she did the others just went on their way to the mansion but instead of walking they stole a car and Mitchell hotwired it.


    "I thought it was Illegal for cops to steel cars?" said Sonata in a amusing tone.


    Mitchell didn''t respond as he was hotwiring the car but when it did start he was going to drive and the others piled in even though Sonata was squished between Jack and Cadenza.


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    ***


    At the mansion all of them tucked and rolled to bail out of the car and it drove through a wooden door.


    That should get their attention. Sonata thought, A fucking car through a huge door should get someone''s attention.


    The group stacked up where the car went in and Mitchell came up with a plan of Cadenza, Sonata, and Mackenzie Rose would go one way and Mitchell, Sam, and Jack would go the other way and would provide support when they can.


    "What is this?" asked Sonata, "Ladies group and man''s group who can do better?"


    Mitchell replied, "Nope. I just want to but two of the best together and the medic in one group."


    Sonata bought what Mitchell said so Sonata, Cadenza, and Mackenzie went left while Mitchell, Jack, and Sam went right and they shot at the terrorist''s who occupy the mansion. But they also checked and cleared every room but they couldn''t find Julia.


    All of them regrouped in a hallway and opened a door which led them out into a courtyard.


    "I don''t like this." said Sam, "Feels like we''re going to be exposed."


    They used the columns as cover but heard a loud revving sound where soon a armored vehicle came from the second floor and someone fired the machine gun on it and they stayed in cover each of them pinned and when they weren''t getting shot at they would take pot shots.


    After a good twenty minutes they were able to disable the vehicle and Sgt Mitchell ran up to it and placed a explosive charge on it and after a few seconds it blew up.


    "If Julia wasn''t in that half then she must either be on this half or they could''ve moved her." said Sergeant Mitchell.


    Sonata was about to say something but Mitchell told her to keep her negative thoughts to herself and that they didn''t cross a quarter of the world to hear her bitch and say negative thoughts or they would''ve stayed home and would''ve let her and Paul do it themselves.


    They cleared the other half but there was no one there and didn''t find Julia but they did find a note.


    Commander Cadenza read the note that it was a taunting message for Sonata saying that someone has Julia and by the time they''ll find her she''ll be a squabbling mess and nothing but a glorified sex slave. Sonata was mad that she wasn''t there with Julia to save her. That got her blood to boil and she threw a swing where Mackenzie Rose got out of the way and Sonata''s right hand hit Cadenza''s armor which broke her fist.


    They then went back to their base of operations and they decided to come up with a plan to rid the town of the terrorists even though when asked about not wanting to telegraph their presents and to keep it covert Sonata just told them that "Covert came and gone".


    "Sergeant Waterson, take CPL Skybolt, and PFC Rose to take the southside of town." said Commander Cadenza, "Sergeant Sonata you and LCPL Hartstock go to the center. I''ll go to the northside of town."


    SSGT Paul replied, "What about me?"


    "With a broken nose and partial broken jaw I don''t think so." said Commander Cadenza.


    They all went to where they went and both Sonata and Sam Hartstock went into a tower and Sam took his DMR and started to shoot at anyone who wasn''t friendly nor wasn''t considered as a neutral or civilian.


    All of them did their job just shooting and they killed a lot of terrorists and when it reached sunset before they went back.


    "So we know that Julia isn''t here." said Sam, "So where is she?"


    All of them looked over at Staff Sergeant Paul who told them that where she was deployed to is above his paygrade which they all looked over to Commander Cadenza who told them that she won''t ask her father due to it''s above her paygrade as well.


    Cadenza then used her helmet built in communications and got into contact with her father and she asked him why Julia Vance and a three man team were sent here but her father refused and demanded her and the others to come home ASAP but Cadenza refused her father''s order and told him that they''re going to bring Julia and the other four home if they''re dead or alive while her father and the War Department would rather label that they''re dead and move on.


    They all heard Cadenza''s father lose his cool after awhile and shout "I AM ORDERING YOU ALL TO COME HOME!" and Cadenza replied calmly and coldly, "No Sir!"


    They decided to search the whole country and their next place was a target they probably would''ve been tasked with taking out would be further south so they decided to go there and to search around.


    "I guess when he get back we''ll all go to a military prison for coming here Illegally and not for following orders." said Sam


    Cadenza replied, "All of our missions we go on are Illegal but he have plausible deniability on our side."

 Chapter Five

    "Well, that was a bold move, blowing off your dad like that," Mitchell remarked.


    Cadenza shot back, "Rule number one on the battlefield: ''Never leave a man behind.'' So, screw my dad. It''s worth facing a firing squad."


    "Let''s get moving downriver," Sonata urged.


    Mitchell added, "I can probably call my cousin Macaroni for help if we need a naval guided missile cruiser."


    Jack raised an eyebrow, "And how exactly do you plan to contact her?"


    Mitchell shrugged, "We''ll find a payphone. If this country still has them."


    With that, Sonata, Mitchell, Cadenza, Jack, Sam, and Mackenzie Rose climbed into a boat they found and started their journey downriver.


    As they drifted downriver, a voice crackled over the radio, announcing an upcoming election. Sonata''s eyes lit up with a plan. "One of us could go undercover," she suggested, glancing at Mackenzie and Cadenza.


    Mitchell scoffed, "Cadenza? Undercover? She''s been genetically altered to go all gung-ho, not stealth. You, maybe. Mackenzie, maybe."


    Sonata frowned, "You think I can go undercover? Even though I haven''t lost most of my baby weight?"


    Mitchell shrugged, "It''s not about the weight, Sonata. It''s about blending in and getting the job done."


    Jack chimed in, "Let''s focus on finding a payphone first. We need to contact Macaroni."


    We continued downriver for a while until we reached a dock. We got off and spotted a payphone. Mitchell approached it but realized he didn''t have any change. Cadenza, using her enhanced strength, broke open the coin box and handed Mitchell the coins. Sonata, Jack, Sam, and Mackenzie took up defensive positions to discourage any curious onlookers.


    After a while, Mitchell returned. "Alright, we''ve got help coming," he announced.


    Mackenzie asked, "When?"


    "Fourteen hours from now," Mitchell replied. "At least Macaroni isn''t working this week, but she said I owe her because I''m the one who called."


    Sonata inquired, "Who''s coming to help?"


    "My cousins, Mackenzie ''Macaroni'' and the other Mackenzie ''Nighthawk,'' are coming," Mitchell explained.


    Mackenzie raised an eyebrow, "How are they going to help?"


    "Macaroni was a fire controlman in the U.S. Navy for a year before finishing her enlistment in the Naval Reserves. Nighthawk is a helicopter pilot who, if there''s a 99% chance of being shot down, will say there''s a very high chance but not 100%, and there''s a 1% chance of making it through. Nighthawk has flown sorties that ended up with her helicopter covered in lead and bullet holes," Mitchell said, a hint of admiration in his voice.


    Jack mused, "Kinda wonder what favor Macaroni is going to call in?"


    Mitchell shrugged, "Don''t know, don''t care. It''s not relevant right now. Besides, he has to do whatever she wants, and my guess is it''s probably harmless."


    Sonata urged everyone to refocus on finding Julia. The group split up to question the town''s residents, many of whom were hesitant to speak. However, some reported seeing armored vehicles heading west into the heavily guarded mountains a couple of days prior. After a fourteen-hour journey, the group arrived to scout the area.


    Mitchell inquired about the well-being of Sonata''s daughters, expressing his wish to occasionally check on them despite not being in their lives. Sonata responded that her daughters were fine and that she was considering having more children.


    Cadenza took off her helmet and handed it to Mitchell. "This is for you," she said.


    "This is Nighthawk 1-1 standing by overhead for tasking. Let''s make a deal: you target, and I take it out," said Capt. Mackenzie "Nighthawk" Waterson over the radio.


    Mitchell replied, "Cadenza will mark targets for you, Nighthawk."


    He then handed the helmet back to Cadenza, who began marking targets for Nighthawk.


    Cadenza marked a target for Nighthawk, who responded with a smirk, "Your international incident''s on its way." Moments later, the guard tower exploded in a fiery blast.


    "Yup, that''s an international incident right there," Jack quipped as he lay down and deployed his machine gun on a bipod. Sam scurried off to find a suitable location, knowing that as a Designated Marksman, he views that he¡¯s more or less a glorified sniper. After every shot, he would need to relocate, given that DMRs and sniper rifles were designed for long-range engagements, not close quarters. Despite DMRs being battle rifles with 2x-10x scopes to bridge the gap between a sniper rifle and a battle rifle, Sam preferred to fight from afar. His only close-quarters weapon was a .40 caliber revolver, making long-range engagements his forte.


    Jack, on the other hand, as a machine gunner, was prepared for medium-range combat. The team settled into their positions.


    Mitchell, Sonata, and Mackenzie Rose used the chaos as a chance to sneak around the side of the base. At the same time, Cadenza just went in, but she was smart about it. Cadenza is basically a super-soldier thanks to genetic mods: she''s got bones that can''t break, she''s super strong and has crazy good senses, she thinks way faster, her aim is unreal, she can run like 34 mph, and she can snap a dude''s bones no problem. She''s tough enough to shrug off bullets and probably even survive explosions like grenades and rockets if she''s lucky. She can lift at least three times her own weight (she''s around 169 pounds without her armor). With the armor, she can lift six times her weight.


    While Cadenza was causing a scene up front, Mitchell, Sonata, and Mackenzie Rose were quietly sneaking around the outside, trying not to get caught. They knew that everyone would be focused on Cadenza, which gave them a chance to get inside and attack from the side.


    Sonata used a spray she had to cut through the chain link fence, creating a wide enough hole for herself, Mitchell, and Mackenzie Rose to enter. Sonata went first, followed by Mackenzie Rose, with Mitchell bringing up the rear. Once inside, Mackenzie Rose went her own way while Mitchell and Sonata took a different path.


    "Still can''t believe what Cadenza said the other day before you recruited us for this," Mitchell remarked.


    Sonata looked puzzled. "Said what?"


    "In her own words, Cadenza said Mackenzie Rose has hips suited for bearing many children¡ªfour, five, six, maybe even twelve," Mitchell replied.


    Sonata chuckled, "Don''t know if she''s joking or serious."


    Mitchell shook his head, "Cadenza never jokes. Her idea of a joke is throwing someone like a baseball. Don''t believe me? You can ask Macaroni when she gets here."


    "At least Cadenza isn''t like Ms. Rose''s mother," Mitchell remarked.


    Sonata inquired, "How so?"


    Mitchell explained, "Ms. Rose''s mother is very traditional. She has tried to pair us up more than once, even though I told her I''m happy with Cadence. She doesn''t care about polygamy and says so. But polygamy is creepy to me, unless it''s in a religious context, then I can overlook it. Mackenzie Rose''s mother has seriously outdated views. She wants her daughter to quit her job, be a housewife, and have children."


    Sonata nodded, "That reminds me of when I was in the cult called ''Almighty Believers.'' Their views were severely outdated. The men worked to bring home money, half of which was given to the cult as a ''donation.'' Women''s job was to cook, clean, and have children. If a woman got a job, she was ''encouraged'' to quit and expected to give 100% of her paycheck to the cult as a ''donation.'' In high school, many guys wanted to be with me because in that cult, there were only two types of marriages: traditional weddings and wedlocked weddings. The latter meant a pregnant woman and the guy who got her pregnant had to marry or face expulsion which was more or less a death sentence to fanatics. Those were the only two ways people got married in the cult I was born and raised in."


    Mitchell shook his head, "That''s rough. At least we''re out here, making our own choices."


    Sonata smiled, "Yeah, well at least when I was kicked out for being Bi... well what was the cult¡¯s downfall was that they took over my hometown of Dillimore... well that led to military intervention and they couldn¡¯t hide behind their religious status anymore because what they done fell under ''Uprising''... but surprise surprise that muskets and lever-action rifles from the 1860s is no match for the Rangers armor, Infantry Fighting Vehicles and Tanks."


    Another tower exploded, possibly a communications relay or equipped with communications gear. Mitchell believed Cadenza wouldn''t waste an airstrike or helicopter gunship attack on a less valuable target.


    We then observed Cadenza with her LMG. She pulled the charging handle, used her right hand to make a fist, and hit the right side of the ammo box knocking it off before attaching another ammo box to her machine gun.


    "Enemy armor is destroyed. Now mopping up the bad guys on foot," Nighthawk reported over the radio. "Base is clear of all enemy armored vehicles."


    "Thanks for the high heat. Don''t be a stranger," Cadenza replied.


    "Never by choice," Nighthawk responded. "We''ll mop up any hostile infantry. You and the rest of the unit find those prisoners so we can get out of here."


    With Nighthawk providing air support, Cadenza and the rest of the team moved swiftly through the base, searching for the prisoners. The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed around them as they navigated the maze of buildings and corridors.


    We quickly reached a series of outdoor cages, all but one of which were empty. Cadenza, true to form, ripped the padlock off the occupied cage. Inside, we found a lone prisoner. Mitchell instructed Mackenzie Rose to tend to the man''s wounds.


    "Where are the other prisoners?" Sonata inquired.


    The captured Little Birden Special Forces soldier informed us that they had been separated and transported to different camps. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the area. We looked up to see Nighthawk 1-1 spiraling out of control, its tail rotor ablaze.


    __________


    The Nighthawk 1-1 crash site was a scene of controlled chaos as Mitchell and Sonata worked tirelessly to extricate the two Mackenzie Watersons - call signs "Nighthawk" and "Macaroni" - from the wreckage.


    As they carefully maneuvered Macaroni, who was thankfully unharmed, out of the damaged aircraft, Sonata couldn''t help but notice the woman''s ample bosom. "Whoa," she remarked, "I''ve never seen a woman with such a... pronounced chest before."


    Macaroni, ever aware of the attention her physique attracted, sighed. "Yes, they''re a real pain," she grumbled, adjusting her flight suit. "They get in the way, bounce around when I''m trying to be athletic, and attract all the wrong kind of attention. I hate them."


    Sonata raised an eyebrow. "Really? A lot of women would love to have your... assets."


    "Trust me," Macaroni retorted, "they''re more trouble than they''re worth. I was a late bloomer, so in high school, I was just this skinny, awkward kid. Then, one summer, I shot up four inches and gained four cup sizes practically overnight. Suddenly, I went from being invisible to being the center of attention. It was overwhelming. Guys were constantly hitting on me, but I wasn''t interested. I told more than a few of them to get lost."


    Sonata chuckled. "I can imagine. Let me guess, people started saying you were a lesbian?"


    Macaroni nodded. "Yep. Eventually, I came out as bisexual, but I was careful about who I told. A lot of people I knew weren''t exactly open-minded."


    Macaroni''s phone rang, and she answered, putting it on speakerphone. "Sorry, can''t talk right now, Dad and Martha," she said. "I''m kind of in the middle of a terrorist situation."


    There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line. "Wait, what?!" her father and stepmother exclaimed in unison.


    Meanwhile, Sam arrived and surveyed the situation. "Well, now there are three Mackenzies here," he observed, amused.


    "Yes," Jack replied, "Pilot, MCMS, and one named after food."


    "MCMS?" Macaroni questioned, momentarily distracted from her phone call.


    Sonata clarified, "Marine Corps Medical Services. Similar to your American Corpsman for the Navy, except that in our world, the Little Bird Navy and Marine Corps are separate branches, unlike your American Marines and Navy, which are interconnected."


    Macaroni ended the call with her dad and stepmom, promising to call them back once she got home. She muttered under her breath, "If my stepmom had called, she''d probably start asking when I''m going to have children."


    Mackenzie Rose overheard Macaroni''s comment and asked curiously, "Then why don''t you?"


    Mitchell explained, "When she was growing up, the average age for marriage and having children was around 27. Nowadays, many people don''t want to have children or choose to wait until later in life. She''s American, and there''s a cultural difference; in our culture, it''s common and socially acceptable to marry and have children by 22."


    Macaroni''s frustration was evident in her response, "I already told my stepbrother that if I want children, I''ll choose the father, and if she keeps pushing me, I''ll throw her wish back in her face."


    Mackenzie was shocked and disgusted when she understood what Macaroni meant.


    Sonata understood Macaroni''s meaning immediately, while Jack and Sam didn''t until Sonata explained that Macaroni meant she would choose a distant relative to allow for some genetic diversity. Knowing they were living in the 21st century, not the Medieval Era, and that the Watersons weren''t nobles, Mackenzie Rose asked Macaroni if she knew that. Mitchell had told her they were mostly Knights in the Holy Roman Empire, and many didn''t marry because of their duty to protect their realm.


    Sonata, stating that Knights of the Dark Ages were the lowest level of Nobility, remarked that the three should''ve paid more attention in middle school history class.


    Mackenzie Rose said that here in Little Bird, 6th Grade history teaches about the Ancient Era, 7th Grade History teaches the Classical Era, and 8th Grade History teaches the Medieval era while 9th Grade teaches the Renaissance era, 10th Grade History teaches the Colonial period and Industrial Revolution, 11th Grade teaches about the World War period, and 12th Grade teaches about the Cold War period.


    We then went on our way after Cadenza threw some kind of grenade into the cockpit of the crashed helicopter, making it blow up to cover any trace of the country of Little Bird being here, in the country that Mitchell calls "Look like a slice of pizza" because from a satellite view it somewhat resembles a slice of pizza.


    There was also a military vehicle we found that could accommodate us all, so we got in, and the first thing that Mackenzie Rose did was press a button on the radio to play music to which Mitchell said "Oh no, no, no this won''t work," before Macaroni leaned up front and connected her phone to the vehicle''s speakers and started to play first, second, third and fourth generation country music because, to her, modern country music isn''t that good.


    In the back of the vehicle.


    "So," Sonata began, her voice laced with curiosity, "you really see your... assets... as a curse instead of a blessing?"


    Macaroni sighed, resignation evident in her tone. "Yes," she confirmed, "they''re more of a burden than a benefit. I have to wear tight shirts to keep them from bouncing around when I run or exercise. Otherwise, they''d be a constant distraction." She paused, a wry smile playing on her lips. "And I could do without the unwanted attention they attract."


    Intrigued, Sonata raised an eyebrow. "Unwanted attention?"


    "Believe me," Macaroni replied, "it''s more trouble than it''s worth. I''d much rather be flat-chested like my girlfriend. I don''t like the way men and women stare, or the inappropriate comments they make. It''s especially awkward at work. I''ve had guys interrupt dates with Lusty to ask me out. It''s gotten to the point where we just stay home for dinner dates now."


    "That''s... unfortunate," Sonata remarked sympathetically. "I can see how that would be frustrating."


    Macaroni nodded. "Exactly. So, yes, I wear a tight shirt and a tight sports bra to minimize them and keep them from being a bother." She shrugged. "It''s just easier that way."


    "You know," Sonata interjected thoughtfully, "there''s a type of surgery that can help you out there so your bust doesn''t get in the way."


    Surprised, Macaroni''s eyes widened. "Wait, really? All this time and I never knew that was an option."


    Sonata nodded. "It''s called breast reduction surgery. It''s a procedure where they remove excess breast tissue and skin to reduce the size of your bust."


    Macaroni''s interest was piqued. "That sounds... interesting. But I''m guessing it''s expensive?"


    "It can be," Sonata acknowledged, "but you do live in a country that has universal healthcare if you don¡¯t have insurance and if it''s causing you physical discomfort or affecting your quality of life."


    Macaroni pondered this for a moment. "I''ll have to look into that. It''s definitely something to consider."


    Sonata smiled encouragingly. "I think it''s worth exploring. It could make a big difference in your life."


    Macaroni agreed. "Yeah, it might. Thanks for telling me about it."


    Sonata glanced at Macaroni and couldn''t help but chuckle. "Good thing we didn''t go to the same school. You would''ve been the odd one out, and every guy, especially the jocks, would be tripping over themselves to be with you. You''d be the main enemy of all the other girls with smaller chests. Even if you weren''t in a cult, being in an outside religion would have made you so many enemies."


    Macaroni sighed, adjusting her flight suit. "Yeah, it''s been a pain. My biological mother wanted me to get married right after high school. She set me up on blind dates, telling the guys I was ''a woman of perfect breeding.'' I was offended, like she wrote my future in stone as a housewife having children. Some guys were understanding, but others couldn''t take no for an answer. I told them I''d rather live in an alternate universe where the Axis won World War II or the Commies won the Cold War than be a housewife."


    Sonata nodded, understanding. "You and I are the same, liking men and women equally. My mother didn''t approve, and the cult I was in only approved if you were married in a traditional marriage between a man and a woman and had babies. They couldn''t overlook same-sex relationships, even with adoption or surrogacy. I had many guys wanting to date me, but I said no in fifty different ways, from polite to why people have weapons for home defense. The cult members had more babies than they could raise on a single income, like ten or fifteen children. Half of their annual salary went to the cult as a ''donation,'' leaving them with barely enough to cover rent, utilities, groceries, and childcare."


    Macaroni laughed, "I had people chasing me throughout high school. It was a gigantic pain. My mother wanted me to get married right after graduating, but I told her I was offended by that. I wanted to choose my own path. If someone wants to be a housewife like Mitchell''s wife Cadence, that''s their choice. Cadence is happy being home and taking care of the kids. But for me, forcing me into an old way of life pushes me away from having children."


    Sonata smiled, "And me as well. Mitchell is my chosen conception partner. When I decided to have kids, I did extensive background checks on potential partners before choosing him."


    Macaroni looked curious. "So how does the cult you¡¯re from view you having a girlfriend and kids from a man not in the same cult?"


    Sonata sighed. "That''s simple. They abhor it. At the same time, they view Mitchell and me as married because he''s the father of my children. Many of them faced a firing squad back in 1995, and others are sitting in max security prison for an uprising. The cult bred like rabbits and used their so-called ''donations'' to buy weapons and ammo, causing an uprising. I even told my mom and a few other cult members, ''Thus far, you and the rest have been adrift in the sheltered harbor of the government''s patience.'' They hadn''t sent in the troops sooner because of Little Bird''s freedom of religion. But once the cult started a revolt, the government had to act. The uprising happened because they didn''t like other religions with different views."


    Macaroni nodded, understanding Sonata''s past. "That''s intense. I''m glad you''re out of that situation."


    Sonata smiled, appreciating the support. "Yeah, it was a rough time, but I''m glad to be free and making my own choices now."


    "I remember that uprising like it was yesterday," Sonata chuckled, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia and grim satisfaction. "800 battle-hardened Army Rangers, each one a seasoned veteran, backed up by the sheer firepower of seven M1947 Main Battle Tanks, two squadrons of agile and deadly medium and heavy attack helicopters, and the awe-inspiring might of the 17th Multirole Fighter Squadron raining down fiery napalm canisters, launching precise air-to-surface missiles, and strafing the enemy with devastating 20mm or 30mm rotary cannons. And if that wasn''t enough, the Rangers also had the support of off-map artillery and mortar barrages, capable of leveling entire city blocks in a matter of minutes. The battle was undeniably one-sided, a testament to the overwhelming superiority of the Rangers, those elite commandos and infantrymen, experts in clearing out objectives and handling the most specialized and dangerous operations long before the main army even arrives on the scene. They faced off against a horde of fanatical cultists who fervently believed the end of the world was imminent. The higher-ups in the cult, driven by their twisted ideology, had amassed a vast arsenal of weapons and meticulously trained for the apocalypse, resorting to horrific terror tactics such as the wanton destruction of sacred symbols and historical landmarks, and the audacious rewriting of history to fit their warped narrative. And don''t even get me started on their abhorrent views about interracial couples and mixed-race people. Depending on which parent the children resembled, they faced unimaginable discrimination and ostracization within the cult''s twisted social hierarchy. I''m eternally grateful that the cult is no longer a blight on society, but I vividly remember the relentless harassment I endured even as a young woman of eighteen. Men in their thirties and forties, blinded by their twisted desires, sought to ''win my heart,'' but I always met their advances with a resolute slam of the door. I was branded an apostate, a traitor to their twisted cause, and people I once considered friends spewed venomous words, declaring, ''You, ma''am, are worse than Hitler.'' It was utterly laughable, considering I had never harmed a soul, let alone orchestrated the genocide of millions. Their twisted logic stemmed from my service in the military, which they condemned as working for an ''oppressive regime.'' But it''s far from oppressive when the government upholds the fundamental right of all citizens to vote, regardless of gender, wealth, or religion (with the exception of those who have forfeited their rights through criminal activity), implements labor laws that protect and empower workers, respects the sanctity of personal privacy by refusing to regulate what people do behind closed doors, and provides a hybrid healthcare system that ensures access to quality care for citizens of all economic levels, where the poor and destitute are never burdened with insurmountable medical bills."


    Macaroni nodded thoughtfully, his expression a mix of understanding and contemplation. "I can certainly see why they would label the government as ''oppressive'' from their distorted perspective. They allow universal suffrage regardless of gender or wealth, barring those with a criminal record, grant freedom of religion or the choice to declare oneself agnostic, and have a hybrid healthcare system that doesn''t financially penalize the uninsured. The country boasts labor laws that favor workers, and the government refrains from interfering in people''s private lives."


    Sonata continued, her voice unwavering and resolute. "One of the primary reasons they used to justify their condemnation of the government was a blatant lie. They claimed that autocracy or dictatorship was superior because a single ruler, answerable only to themselves, could make decisions more swiftly than a collective body. While it''s true that Little Bird may be classified as a stratocratic police state, it''s important to remember that the President is surrounded by a cabinet of highly skilled experts in diverse fields such as trade, economics, and various other crucial areas. These experts could be Captains of Industry with vast business acumen, renowned Economists with a deep understanding of financial markets, seasoned Editors with a wealth of experience in the world of journalism, efficient Quartermasters with unparalleled logistical expertise, or influential War Industrialists who advocate for a strong and robust defense industry. This country boasts a multifaceted system of councils: a Presidential council that offers invaluable advice and guidance to the President, Governor councils that play a vital role in the administration of each of the five states, Mayoral councils that assist and advise the Mayor on local matters, and military councils for each division that collaborate with the divisional commander to formulate effective orders and strategies."


    Shifting the conversation to a more personal tone, Macaroni remarked, "At least your parents didn''t bother you during your pregnancy."


    Sonata''s expression softened for a moment before hardening with a hint of bitterness. "My mother bombarded me with countless letters, enough to fill an entire library shelf, expressing her ardent desire to meet her grandbabies. But each letter she sent was met with the unforgiving flames of a metallic flip lighter because they were laced with manipulative guilt trips, accusing me of being a ''horrible mother'' for denying her the chance to meet her grandchildren. But my answer remained unchanged, unwavering in my resolve to shield my daughters from the toxic influence of their grandmother, who languished behind bars, a convicted lunatic. And yes, she shamelessly attempted to feign insanity in court, but a thorough psychological evaluation exposed her ruse, revealing her true nature and ensuring that the justice system wouldn''t be swayed by her deceitful tactics. The only reason she wasn''t facing a firing squad was that she hastily named names, trading information for a reduced sentence of life imprisonment in a maximum-security facility. She even had the audacity to send me letters urging me to visit my half-siblings, but I knew better than to fall for her manipulative ploys. I was well aware that if a female inmate became pregnant, the government would intervene, diligently searching for any suitable relative to take custody of the child. And if no such relative could be found, the innocent baby would be placed into the foster care system, their fate uncertain and their future hanging in the balance."


    Mackenzie Rose interrupted Macaroni before she could speak, "Besides, that''s a silly nickname." She continued, "Here on Little Bird, prisons are single-gender. Cisgender men go to men''s prisons, and cisgender women go to women''s prisons. Transgender individuals are assigned to prisons based on their birth gender, as many people falsely claim to be transgender to be sent to a prison of the opposite sex for nefarious purposes. Additionally, the guards are the same gender as the inmates; male corrections officers work in men''s prisons, and female corrections officers work in women''s prisons. The few co-ed prisons that exist are minimum security. This is because inmates at minimum-security prisons are serving short sentences for non-severe crimes. They typically only serve a few years and rarely cause trouble or attempt to escape. They are also less likely to riot, as adding time to their sentence for misbehavior isn''t worth it. Serious infractions can result in them getting more time added and a chance of being transferred to medium security.


    Medium-security prisoners have low-medium length sentences and may stay in prison for a reasonable amount of time. They are generally less troublesome than higher security-classed prisoners but are more easily disgruntled than minimum-security prisoners.


    Maximum-security prisoners tend to have very long sentences and are some of the most violent prisoners. They are easily angered and frequently participate in fights, riots, and other brutality. They may even kill other inmates if given the opportunity.


    The CO to inmate ratio here on Little Bird varies based on security level. In minimum security, it''s 1 guard to 4 inmates. In medium security, it''s 1 guard to 1 inmate. In maximum security, it''s 5 guards to 1 inmate, and in supermax, it''s 8-10 guards to 1 inmate."


    Macaroni inquired why the government doesn''t permit transgender individuals to be incarcerated in prisons that align with their gender identity. Cadenza explained that back in 2002, a man who was arrested claimed to be female. He was subsequently incarcerated in a female medium-security prison, where he impregnated half of D block before being transferred to a male security prison. He admitted that he had lied about his gender identity in order to be around women. And he got additional charges for that for lying about gender identnty and that the judge threw the book at the guy saying how there are actual people out there struggling with gender idenity and said how that back in 1974 the country of Little Bird to allow transgender people to legally change their sex, and provides free hormone therapy and  legally change their name and gender on the birth certificate after undergoing sex reassignment surgery before a few years later the country passed trans-inclusive civil rights protection legislation. Cadenza even told Macaroni that it really didn¡¯t affect the military becauase the Little Bird military has refused to sign any law or policy that refrain from people joining the military and that the only policy that the military has in place to bar people from joining is if they¡¯re a single parent and only legal loophole around that policy is that they put their kids up for adoption or have the other parent or family member take their kids in and sign away their paternal rights. Macaroni said how her girlfriend has ran into when she thought about joining the military because the world was at war globally for the Third time but couldn¡¯t join the military because she¡¯s a single mother in which she had three options: Have their father take them in with his and his wife four children, put them up for adoption and wave her paternal rights or just not join and she chose option three.


    Mackenzie Rose said how even that¡¯s a controversial policy because it bans a group of people from serving their country in the armed forces but to her it¡¯s a useful because it prevents from families being broken up. And that in the Little Bird Military before you even get assigned a role and she said how in basic training she met guys and gals who wanted to be an Infantryman, Indirect Fire Infantryman (Mortarman), Engine, Construction Engineer, Combat Engineer, Bridge Crewmember, Diver, Quarrying Specialist (RC), Construction Engineering Supervisor, Plumber, Firefighter, Horizontal Construction Engineer, Prime Power Production Specialist, Power Line Distribution Specialist (RC), Interior Electrician, Technical Engineer, Concrete and Asphalt Equipment Operator, Carpentry and Masonry Specialist, General Engineering Supervisor, Geospatial Engineer, Field Artillery Technican, Cannon Crewmember, Fire Direction Specialist, Fire Support Specialist, Fire Control Specialist, Multiple Launch Rocket System/High Mobility Artillery Rocket System Crewmember, Field Artillery Firefinder Radar Operator, Field Artillery Surveyor/Meteorological Crewmember or in the Air Defense Artillery Branch or in Aviation or Cyber Corps, Special Forces, Armored Unit, Signal Corps, or other combat roles but after thirteen weeks later before graduation when they get their assignments that she has seen men and women who wanted to be a normal infantryman, grenadier, machine gunner, sniper, designated marksmen, tanker, Combat Engineer, Engineer, Assault Engineer, or pilot but no they get told that they¡¯re going to be a desk jockey doing paperwork and getting their boss a cup of fresh coffee or they¡¯re going to be a jeep driver who¡¯ll drive high ranking officers and VIPs around or be back at base or still on the homefront making foods like Sweedish Meatballs after going through two almost three months of physical training and learning how to use a firearm and take it apart and reassemble said firearm while blindfolded in the dark only to be told ¡°Oh yeah now you¡¯re going to be a pencil pusher, you¡¯re going to drive higher ups around and you¡¯re going to be a cook,¡± or not even be near combat or not even leave the homefront.


    Jack turned to Macaroni, "You know, Marine Drill Instructors aren''t exactly friendly. Their introduction is usually something like, ''I''m Sgt. [Name here], your drill instructor for the next fourteen weeks, maggots!''"


    Sonata nodded in agreement. "Marine training is next to impossible. Some of the Special Forces units I served with in the 1st SFG said their training was a cakewalk compared to the Marines and both the 8th and 11th Silent Serpents Battalions. Their training methods are so unnecessarily extreme and brutal that they drive recruits to madness. But their training is more specialized."


    Jack continued, "My wife is a female Marine Drill Instructor, and she says, ''Drill Sergeants are ultimately responsible for preparing their recruits for combat. In those fourteen weeks, the pressure to make someone have a fighting chance against the enemy is enormous. It''s my job to train and send them to war. They''re going to come back in bags, they''re going to come back in wheelchairs, they''re gonna be maimed, they''re going to be messed up people when they come back.''"


    He added, "My wife and other drill instructors also belittle and demean their recruits to push them to their limits. It gives some recruits a chance to think if the Marines or Special Forces are a career for them, and if they should drop out or go to the Army, which has easier training."


    Sonata reflected on her own experiences. "The Marines'' training is designed to break you down and build you back up stronger. It''s not for everyone, but those who make it through are some of the toughest and most resilient individuals you''ll ever meet."


    Jack, drawing from his extensive experience, elucidated the rationale behind the Marines'' combat doctrine, which prioritizes overwhelming aggression and relentless forward momentum. He emphasized that amphibious assaults, by their very nature, necessitate an unwavering commitment to advancing on the objective, as the sea offers no avenue for retreat. This strategic imperative has shaped the Marines'' training and tactics, fostering a warrior ethos that prizes aggression and initiative.


    To underscore his point, Jack delved into the specific weaponry and equipment employed by Marine Corps machine gun teams. He described how handles were affixed to the barrels of medium and heavy machine guns, enabling gunners to maintain a high rate of fire while maneuvering across the battlefield. While this approach inevitably sacrifices some degree of accuracy and stability, it significantly enhances the mobility and responsiveness of machine gun teams, allowing them to provide crucial fire support during assaults.


    Mitchell, recognizing a shared doctrinal principle, drew a compelling parallel to the training and operational philosophy of Airborne forces. He highlighted that paratroopers, once they have descended from the sky, are similarly committed to their objective, as there is no possibility of returning to the aircraft. This shared reality fosters a sense of urgency and determination among paratroopers, who must seize the initiative and exploit their initial momentum to achieve their mission.


    Sonata, expanding upon the discussion of specialized units, contributed valuable insights into the unique capabilities of certain companies within the Silent Serpents. She revealed that these elite soldiers are equipped with compact jet packs that enable them to achieve low-altitude flight. This cutting-edge technology allows them to rapidly traverse challenging terrain, including vertical obstacles, granting them a significant tactical advantage in specific operational scenarios.


    Macaroni said that it kinda feels like an upgrade in an XCOM game to allow the player to have their XCOM operatives have jet packs so they can hover above the battlefield.


    Macaroni also said that living in an advanced country is different because of technological advancements. But she also said how she overheard some double standards in which she said how every country there¡¯s some kind of double standards and said how the other day she overheard a couple have an unbiased third party in which said third party wasn¡¯t unbiased in which the woman said how uncomfortable she was around her husband¡¯s family in which the unbiased third party said how it was her fault then when the husband said they were actually at her family that he wasn¡¯t comfortable and stayed in the guest bedroom then the ¡°unbiased¡± third party told the woman that it¡¯s her fault that it was her fault that the husband felt unsupported and isolated and said how it¡¯s her job to keep the husband happy. Cadenza said that if someone told her that it¡¯s her job to keep her boyfriend happy then they would be drinking through a straw for the rest of their life and using the bathroom through a straw for the rest of their life as well.Mitchell told Macaroni that ¡°unbiased¡± third party was biased as hell and that person never heard of ¡°Happy wife equals happy life¡±.


    "So how''s everyone''s day so far?" Macaroni asked, trying to ease the tension.


    Sonata replied, "Some countries are in a civil war, some countries have hundreds or thousands of nukes at stake. Just another day at the office."


    Sonata could see it in Macaroni''s eyes that she felt like the new guy in a team, and her eyes showed how badass they were because of their special forces background.


    ---


    A few hours later, the armored vehicle''s engine sputtered and whined as it decelerated, finally rolling to a stop beside a dilapidated service station. The air was thick with the scent of gasoline and dust as Mitchell, Sam, Jack, and Macaroni cautiously disembarked, their boots crunching on the gravel. Sonata, ever vigilant, scanned the surroundings, her hand resting on the grip of her weapon, ensuring the perimeter was secure before the others disappeared into the decaying structure.


    Meanwhile, Cadenza, the enigmatic figure in advanced armor, stepped into the abandoned mechanic''s shop. With practiced ease, she deactivated her sleek, futuristic armor, revealing a surprisingly human form beneath. The harsh lines of her protective gear gave way to the soft curves of a clean, form-fitting jumpsuit that clung to her figure, highlighting an unexpected femininity. She hummed a forgotten tune as she rummaged through the dusty shelves, her movements fluid as she retrieved a selection of tools.


    Sonata, returning from her perimeter check, paused at the entrance, her expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Cadenza''s humming and the gentle sway of her hips as she worked painted a picture of unexpected humanity, a stark contrast to the cold, emotionless warrior she had come to expect. Sonata knew of Cadenza''s origins; a product of the secretive "Project Phoenix," an intensive training program that prioritized the mission above all else. The project''s graduates were known for their icy cold determination and their ability to compartmentalize emotions, often viewed as cold and calculating individuals who placed the objective above any personal feelings or losses. They were trained to be the perfect soldiers, unburdened by the messy complexities of human emotion.


    Cadenza was a prime example of this rigorous training. Her intelligence was unmatched, her marksmanship was legendary, and her skills in stealth, weaponry, hand-to-hand combat, and martial arts were unparalleled. She possessed a strength and agility that was superhuman, a testament to the enhancements and augmentations she had undergone as part of the project. Yet, in this moment of unguarded vulnerability, Sonata glimpsed a different side of Cadenza, a hint of the woman beneath the armor, a flicker of warmth in the eyes of a soldier trained to be cold.


    Sonata walked over to Cadenza. "So how''s the training for Project Phoenix?"


    Cadenza replied, "The military won''t retake you."


    What Cadenza said was true because Sonata was a single mother, and the Little Bird military wouldn''t accept single parents for obvious reasons.


    "Oh no, I wonder if my daughters, Sonata Nicole Jackson Jr. and Mackenzie Rosie Jackson, can do it," Sonata admitted.


    Cadenza replied, "Abridged version or no?"


    "Abridged version," said Sonata.


    Cadenza replied, "98 recruits drop out."


    Cadenza, being a terse talker, not talking a lot and keeping her sentences short, gave Sonata the 411 that their training was incredibly harsh, complemented by high-level education. By the time the trainees turned a year older after one year of intense training, they all had the physiques of Olympic athletes and, with nothing but dart guns and stun grenades, were fully capable of outfighting adult soldiers armed with live ammunition. By the end, their instructor had them going up against squads who were actually trying to kill them. And that''s all before they received their armor and augmentations. Cadenza even said that in their training, they consisted of not getting enough food, getting beaten for stealing food and getting caught, possibly getting beaten for disobedience to their older peers, and once a year getting ritually beaten for no reason whatsoever. Cadenza also said that the entrance exam more or less consisted of having to march through 24 miles of rugged country terrain in less than 10 hours, all the while carrying 100 pounds of gear. Sounds bad? Cadenza didn''t forget to mention that they give you the absolute bare minimum of navigational information to find the endpoint of the route. Cadenza admitted that she used the North Star to find her way back. Cadenza even said how in training they were issued live ammo, which was far different than Sonata''s training because the other branches and units of the Little Bird military used rubber and wax bullets in training because their instructors said, "It won''t kill you, but it''ll sting and hurt for a while." Sonata was a little bit appalled at recruits actually using live ammo in training before they even did live fire exercises.


    "So y''all are a more advanced version of the Marines?" Sonata inquired, her curiosity evident in her voice.


    Cadenza''s expression remained neutral, a slight hint of amusement playing on her lips. "Yes and no," she replied, her voice measured and thoughtful. "We share similarities with the Marines in terms of our rigorous training and combat focus, but our roles and capabilities extend far beyond theirs."


    Jack, appearing suddenly in a broken window frame, interjected with his characteristic enthusiasm. "The Little Bird Marines only accepts volunteers and doesn''t take draftees," he explained. "The Marines are trained in amphibious operations, expeditionary warfare, raiding, amphibious recon, long-range recon, direct action, and aerial warfare. They''re specialized in fighting in wetlands, marshlands, and beach landings. I may be a machine gunner, but I can also fly a helicopter, fly a jet, and operate a tank because the Marines here are cross-trained. This is just basic training before going off to more advanced courses like advanced training to be a tanker, pilot, artilleryman, mortarman, sniper, or engineer."


    Sonata nodded, absorbing the information. "So, how long is the training for the Phoenixes?" she asked, turning her attention back to Cadenza.


    "180 days. That''s 25 weeks," Cadenza replied. She went on to explain that their training hours were brutal, with sleep only allowed on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights from 8 PM to 2 AM. They trained for 18 hours on those days and 96 hours straight on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. The training was designed to push them to their limits, both physically and mentally, forging them into the elite fighting force of the Little Bird military. They could outshoot the best snipers, outfly the best aces, and some Phoenixes were even better than others in selected disciplines such as sniping or hand-to-hand combat.


    Cadenza admitted that she felt bad for regular military TACOM soldiers. Macaroni, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, asked what TACOM meant, given the different militaries and their varying acronyms. Sonata explained that in the Military of Little Bird, TACOM stood for "Tactical Command," encompassing roles like radiotelephone operators, information services, network management, information protection, electromagnetic spectrum, mobile monitor repairmen, network communication systems specialists, multichannel transmission systems operators/maintainers, satellite communications systems operators/maintainers, signal support systems specialists, telecommunications operations chiefs, and chief signal NCOs. Essentially, anything involving communications for military command.


    Macaroni nodded, then added, "In America, TACOM means ''Tank-automotive and Armaments Command.''"


    Cadenza, acknowledging the difference, went on to explain that fireteam leaders in Project Phoenix had helmets with a model called UA/HUL, or UpArmored and Hardened Uplink. The Hardened Uplink allowed the fireteam leader to be in constant contact with higher-ups and provided a live feed to Command for a clearer picture of what was happening on the ground. Sonata remarked that she wished they had that in training and during her time in the army special forces, but admitted that excess gear like that would have slowed them down. Cadenza acknowledged the trade-off between agility and communication, then added that Little Bird Special Forces units, aka the Marines, Rangers, Airborne, Project Phoenix, and the Special Forces Groups, received prioritized fire support ranging from 61mm, 81mm, and 120mm mortar fire to 105mm, 155mm, 190mm, and 210mm artillery fire, as well as airstrikes, more so than regular army infantry. And that wasn''t even including naval gunfire, carpet bombing strikes, and thermobaric bombs or those specialized Air to surface conventional bombs that are used to flatten a section of forest into a helicopter landing zone,


    Sonata, after careful consideration, determined that the probability of her daughters encountering a fatal situation was incredibly low, merely one in a thousand. This calculation was undoubtedly influenced by her knowledge of the rigorous training regimen followed by the 8th and 11th Silent Serpents. This program was renowned for its intensity, pushing recruits to their absolute limits. Out of every 1000 individuals who embarked on this grueling journey, a staggering 800 would ultimately succumb to the pressure, symbolically removing their training helmets, placing them in a designated row, and ringing a bell to signify their surrender. This act, while disheartening, was met with understanding and compassion.


    Sonata had been informed by her friends within the Silent Serpents that the Drill Instructors, while undeniably tough, were also empathetic, often interspersing their demanding instructions with words of encouragement. They would remind the recruits that there was no shame in acknowledging their limitations and admitting defeat. This sentiment resonated with Sonata, who recalled her own experiences in basic training for special forces. Her Drill Instructor had candidly stated that giving up would be the easier option, a statement that held undeniable truth given the extraordinary challenges of special forces training.


    The demands placed upon these elite soldiers were immense, with seventeen-hour training days and a combined Basic Combat Training and Certification period spanning a total of 30 weeks. This rigorous schedule was further intensified by specialist training, such as bilingual or multilingual courses. Sleep deprivation was a constant companion, with regular Army Special Forces personnel receiving a mere four hours of sleep per week. This starkly contrasted with the 36 hours of sleep allotted to Project Phoenix supersoldiers, highlighting the immense physical and mental toll exacted upon those who served in the Special Forces.


    The reason for this relentless training became clear when considering the operational requirements of these units. Army Special Forces Groups, Marine Commandos, Naval Tridents, and fireteams from the 8th or 11th Silent Serpents were expected to be ready for deployment on short notice, often under the cover of darkness. These missions typically involved four-man teams, with 8 or 12 man teams being deployed only on rare occasions. The emphasis on stealth and agility was paramount, a fact that underscored the limitations of Project Phoenix supersoldiers.


    While these genetically enhanced warriors possessed extraordinary strength and resilience, their towering 7ft stature and imposing 1000-pound titanium armor made them ill-suited for covert operations. Although some Phoenix operatives were equipped with specialized power armor that granted them invisibility, this technology was considered to be a subpar form of camouflage. The reality was that concealing a person encased in such heavy armor was a formidable challenge, further emphasizing the unique skills and attributes of the Special Forces units.


    Sonata opened her mouth to speak, but Cadenza cut her off. "Yes, the few Phoenixes who have that stealth armor are using a cheaper version of the Project Thunderbolt armor. The other set of armor is a combat armor system designed with an emphasis on stealth. It uses advanced materials or panels that mimic the surrounding textures, making them nearly invisible. To the trained eye, they can still be seen, as it''s not full active camo. The armor for stealth is near-perfect active camouflage, ranging from a sort of distorted transparency when moving to almost total invisibility when stationary. But it can still be spotted because it''s not pure 100% invisibility. The ones in this unit are called ''Specter Weave,'' and they are sent far behind enemy lines on near-suicide missions in hopes that their efforts would greatly impact the enemy."


    Macaroni returned and inquired about Cadenza and Sonata''s conversation. Sonata honestly replied that they were discussing the Shadow Weave. Cadenza added that the Shadow Weave is typically deployed behind enemy lines on near-suicide missions, mainly to assassinate enemy officers and other high-value targets. Their objective is to bring back either the head or the entire body for positive identification. Cadenza was about to elaborate when Macaroni interjected, stating that she knew PID meant Positive Identification.


    In a conversation between Cadenza and Sonata, the topic of Macaroni''s potential involvement in a special program arose. Cadenza suggested that Macaroni''s genetic makeup might make her a candidate for this program.


    Sonata elaborated on the program, explaining that it stemmed from the beliefs of some military geneticists who theorized that special forces soldiers possessed superior genetics. These geneticists proposed that these soldiers should be encouraged to have children after completing their military service, thus passing on their advantageous genes.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    This theory, Sonata explained, had its roots in the traditions of the Nightingale tribe. The Nightingale tribe believed that individuals who survived wars had the most desirable genetic traits. This belief, however, was challenged by the World Wars. The nature of warfare had changed dramatically, and survival was no longer solely dependent on individual strength and skill. Despite this, the Nightingale tribe continued to value experience and survivability in their officers.


    Cadenza, returning to the topic of Macaroni, remarked that her physique, particularly her hips, indicated that she was well-suited for bearing multiple children. Sonata clarified that the program did indeed encourage special forces soldiers to procreate with each other. The underlying goal was to produce offspring who would inherit the supposedly superior genetic traits of their parents and potentially become future special forces soldiers themselves.


    During the debate, Macaroni established a comparison between the Little Bird program and a historical breeding program, alluding to the disturbing remembrance of a German dictator''s aspiration for a master race. This comparison encountered strong resistance from Sonata, who stressed that Little Bird''s objectives were distant from global supremacy, and involvement in the program was completely voluntary.


    Sonata recognized that the outcomes of the Little Bird program were diverse. While some children did enlist in the regular army to acquire financial assistance for education, others were motivated by a sense of patriotism or family tradition. Among these, some subsequently pursued entry into special forces units, driven by the aspiration for a greater challenge and a more elite experience.


    The discourse then transitioned to the population control strategies of different states. Sonata accentuated the contrasting methodologies of Starfish, Aurora, and Blueberry states, which correlated family size to income levels, with the goal of managing population expansion. Conversely, Cascade and Mountain states embraced a more laissez-faire approach, asserting that if parents possessed the resources to sustain their children, the government had no authority to intercede. Cascade progressed further, actively promoting large families through public acknowledgment and an array of state incentives, including marriage loans and child bonuses.


    Mackenzie Rose joined the discussion and shed light on the State of Cascade''s policy of promoting large families. She explained that the state''s rationale behind this policy was rooted in the potential risk of many young people being unable to join the military when they reached adulthood. This inability, she elaborated, could stem from injuries sustained during sports or roughhousing activities, leading to a 4F classification by the military, deeming them unfit for service.


    To illustrate her point, Mackenzie Rose recounted her experiences growing up, where she witnessed many young men who played sports like football, soccer, baseball, or wrestling, sustain injuries that left them with lasting disabilities, such as bad knees or other physical impairments, preventing them from enlisting in the military. She emphasized that in Little Bird, both volunteers and draftees were required to undergo basic training before receiving their career assignments.


    Before Macaroni could respond, Sonata interjected, explaining that Little Bird had its own version of the American "Selective Service System." During peacetime, the country conscripted 2.5% of the male population. For instance, if one million eighteen-year-old men registered, only 25,000 would be drafted. However, during wartime, this percentage could increase to 5%, resulting in 50,000 conscripts, or even be raised to 10% or 20%, translating to 100,000 or 200,000 conscripts, respectively.


    Mackenzie Rose further added that Little Bird''s current state of peace had placed its conscription law at "Limited Conscription." However, if global tensions escalated or war loomed on the horizon, this could be upgraded to "Extensive Conscription," or potentially even to "Service by Requirement" or "Many Young Adults Serve." Sonata also pointed out to Macaroni that she was fortunate to live in a country where military instructors were former soldiers who had been pulled from the front lines and reassigned to training roles. Sonata emphasized this, because it was far more beneficial to learn from individuals with actual combat experience than from someone who had merely glanced at a textbook for a few minutes.


    Macaroni was on the verge of responding, but Mackenzie Rose interjected. She explained that within the Little Bird Military, women were indeed part of the ranks, but exempt from the draft. They had the option to enlist, just like their male counterparts. However, there was a significant distinction. Men were obligated to sign up, with the only exemptions being physical or mental unfitness. In contrast, due to the country''s chivalrous traditions, women''s participation was strictly voluntary.


    Mackenzie Rose continued, drawing from her own training experiences. She described how the separation of genders was maintained through distinct training units. The only exception to this was during firing exercises, where wax and rubber bullets were used, and mixed-gender tactics were employed. She went on to share an aspect of the Marines training that she particularly disliked¡ªthe water immersion drills. These involved a series of pools, starting with one that was barely a foot deep, progressing to others with water levels reaching the ankles, waist, and finally, the neckline of someone who was 5''11". The purpose behind this was to acclimate recruits to fighting in wet terrain, a specialty of the Little Bird Marines.


    Just then, Mitchell joined the group. He turned to Sonata and Macaroni, recounting a time when Mackenzie Rose had worked as a waitress. He told them about a rude customer who, upon receiving the check, had remarked, "Aren''t you forgetting something?" Mackenzie Rose had retorted, "In the 40 minutes you''ve been here, you''ve complained about the food, the coffee, and the service. I couldn''t care less if you have a pulse, let alone if you have a nice day."


    Mitchell then told Sonata, Cadenza, Macaroni, and Mackenzie Rose that the abandoned building was clear and there were no booby traps inside. As a Paratrooper Commando, Mitchell, along with Jack and Sam, who were Marines, knew all types of booby traps and how to disarm them. Mitchell''s favorite was what the Airborne called "The Alarm Clock." At night, a Paratrooper would take out an enemy sentry, put TNT on the body, and booby trap it. When others came across the body, it would blow up and alert sleeping enemy soldiers. Alternatively, the commando paratrooper would place the dead body among the sleeping enemies, booby trap it, and when one of them found the body in the middle of the night, the explosion would take out the other sleeping enemies, hence the name "The Alarm Clock."


    During a conversation, Macaroni questioned the legality of booby traps, asking if they constitute a war crime. Sonata responded sarcastically with "Who are you? The Geneva Convention?"


    Macaroni then pointed out that booby traps violate Protocol II (b), which prohibits the use of such devices against sick, wounded, or dead persons.


    The Country of Little Bird and its War Department, as Sonata explained, were all about keeping things hush-hush. They did this by using unmarked weapons and gear, so if their agents were caught or killed, there was no way to trace anything back to them. Even their standard-issue stuff, like radios and knives, were just normal commercial models with any logos removed. The only thing different about the knives was that the blades were painted black after being serrated.


    When they were sent to places like Southeast Asia or the Middle East, Sonata and her fellow special forces operatives were told to use AK rifles. This was so they could use ammo from enemies they took down and also so that nobody would know they were behind any attacks. AKs were everywhere in those war zones, so nobody would think twice if they saw one.


    The "Adaptive Camo" armor was new and was supposed to make the wearer invisible, but it only worked if you were standing still, crouching, or lying down. If you were running, it didn''t work unless you used a special move called the cover-shift technique. Plus, it had this glitch called "Invisibility Flicker" that would sometimes show your outline for a second.


    Sonata left the military the same day the "Adaptive Camo" armor became standard issue. She was pregnant and couldn''t be a special forces operative anymore.


    Macaroni then asked Sonata who her daughters'' father was. Sonata put her left arm around Mitchell and pulled him close to her. Macaroni was about to say something but decided to assume either she chose her cousin to be a sperm donor or it was like that program they mentioned a few minutes ago.


    Mackenzie Rose cleared her throat and asked, "If Julia is KIA, what will you tell Sonata Jr. and Mackenzie Jackson?"


    Sonata replied with a hint of humor, "She went to colonize life on Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, or Mercury."


    We all picked up on the sarcasm, but Cadenza said we would use this abandoned gas and mechanic station as a base of operations.


    Sonata, Macaroni, Mitchell, and Mackenzie Rose went inside the abandoned gas-mechanic station, leaving Cadenza alone to continue working on the vehicle.


    Macaroni expressed her deep admiration for how Little Bird embodies the powerful phrase "words backed by strength." She emphasized the stark contrast between Little Bird and many other nations that merely preach lofty ideals without the resolve to uphold them. In Little Bird, she argued, actions consistently speak louder than words.


    To illustrate her point, Macaroni highlighted the historical role of Little Bird''s presidents in deterring invasions. These leaders, she explained, have traditionally issued declarations underscoring their army''s unwavering commitment to defend their homeland. This resolute stance, she argued, has often given potential invaders serious pause.


    Macaroni further elaborated on the formidable challenges that any invading army would face in Little Bird. The country''s diverse and challenging terrain, which encompasses vast plains, rolling hills, towering mountains, and dense forests, makes it exceptionally difficult to conquer. These geographical obstacles, combined with frequent rain, create a logistical nightmare for invading forces. Moving supplies becomes a Herculean task, and evacuating wounded soldiers is fraught with peril. The thick mud that forms in the rainy season can easily immobilize vehicles, further hindering an invading army''s progress. In essence, Macaroni argued, Little Bird''s terrain itself is a powerful weapon that has historically contributed to the nation''s defense.


    Macaroni and Sonata were engaged in a deep conversation about the intricacies of life and relationships. The topic of Julia and her strained relationship with her parents arose. Sonata explained that Julia''s parents had disowned her because of her sexual orientation; they couldn''t accept that she was a lesbian.


    Mitchell, who was also present, drew a parallel between Julia''s parents and Macaroni''s mother. He pointed out that both sets of parents had rigid expectations for their children and were unable to accept them for who they were. Macaroni''s mother, he explained, had always wanted her to be a traditional housewife, conforming to societal norms and expectations.


    Sonata then went on to describe their small town, Dillimore, painting a vivid picture of its close-knit community and somewhat stagnant way of life. News traveled slowly in Dillimore; something that happened in 1932 could still be the talk of the town. The biggest news usually revolved around births and deaths, highlighting the lack of significant events and the slow pace of change.


    The town''s economy was largely driven by mining, which provided the majority of jobs. Other employment opportunities were limited to a handful of essential services, such as the diner, school, fire department, police station, and the clinic. The clinic was a relatively new addition to the town; previously, the only medical facility was located in the doctor''s house, offering little to no privacy for patients.


    Sonata expressed her disapproval of Julia''s parents'' actions, emphasizing that they should have supported their daughter instead of disowning her. Their rejection had ultimately led to Julia disowning them, severing their relationship completely.


    Macaroni, reflecting on the conversation, offered a poignant observation: not every child is fortunate enough to come from a loving home, and not everyone deserves the privilege of having children. However, every child, regardless of their circumstances, deserves to have parents who love and support them unconditionally.


    Macaroni shared that when her girlfriend disclosed her bisexuality to her parents, they briefly withdrew to their bedroom for a discussion. Upon their return, they expressed to their daughter that while they did not fully comprehend bisexuality or homosexuality, they would love and support her unconditionally. Macaroni explained to Sonata and the others that her girlfriend''s parents were raised in an era and location where homosexuality was neither accepted nor legal. In the "Commonwealth of Mountain," their birthplace, it was not legalized until 1972, when they were 18 and 19 years old. Their unwavering support stemmed not from a desire for grandchildren, but from a conviction that good parents should always be present for their children, even if it necessitates asking questions or learning about unfamiliar subjects.


    Macaroni''s girlfriend''s parents held a firm belief that nobody can be an expert on every subject, and there''s no shame in seeking help when needed. Sonata wholeheartedly agreed with this perspective. She openly admitted that while she possessed expertise in areas such as money management, military science, and military theory, science was not her forte. To illustrate her point, she brought up the concept of heat transfer, which Mackenzie Rose was able to identify correctly.


    Sonata then delved into a personal anecdote, revealing that her mother had not been supportive when she came out as bisexual. In fact, her mother had kicked her out of the house, forcing her to live with her sister until she reached the age of legal adulthood. Her father, unfortunately, had been submissive to his wife and hadn''t stood up for Sonata during that difficult time. Sonata also mentioned that the State of Cascade had legalized homosexuality in 1961, providing some historical context.


    The conversation then took a slightly contentious turn as Sonata and Macaroni found themselves disagreeing on a seemingly minor point. Macaroni preferred to refer to all five states as "Commonwealths," while Sonata insisted on using the term "States." Sonata, however, ultimately acknowledged that everyone has their own preferences and that some people might even call them Counties or Boroughs. The disagreement, while brief, highlighted the nuances of language and the different ways people can perceive and categorize the same things.


    During Sonata''s harrowing time within the cult, her mother, even after the painful act of expelling her own daughter, persisted in attempting to orchestrate relationships for Sonata with men who were strikingly older, nearly twice her age. Sonata, however, remained resolutely uninterested in these proposed matches. She further revealed the disturbing fact that a significant number of these men are currently serving time in maximum-security prisons for crimes that, while unrelated to the 1995 uprising, were committed between the years 1989 and 1994, painting a grim picture of their character and the potential danger Sonata may have faced.


    The cult, Sonata explained, had its own twisted logic for labeling her and Mitchell as husband and wife, despite the lack of a formal marriage. They justified this designation solely on the basis of their shared children, Mackenzie Jackson and Sonata Jr. Mitchell, seemingly unconcerned with the intricacies of the situation, had simply inquired whether his name was listed as the father on their birth certificates, or if they bore the impersonal mark of "Father Unknown." Sonata confirmed that his name was indeed included, as Mitchell appeared indifferent to the matter. As Macaroni was about to interject, Sonata preemptively clarified that both children were conceived through natural insemination, dispelling any potential misconceptions.


    Sonata also shed light on the discrepancies between legal adulthood and marriage age on Little Bird and within the five states. While the overarching national marriage age on Little Bird is set at eighteen, there are variations across the five states. Notably, Aroura and Starfish permit marriage at the age of seventeen, provided that both parties are engaged in full-time employment. The concept of legal adulthood on Little Bird can be somewhat ambiguous; while eighteen is generally considered the legal adult age, seventeen-year-olds with full-time jobs are granted the status of legal adults in certain contexts. Those without full-time employment, however, are required to obtain parental consent and present a compelling reason for marriage, although exceptions to this rule do exist. The absolute lowest allowable marriage age is sixteen, and even then, parental consent is mandatory. This particular provision appears to be primarily motivated by a desire to prevent out-of-wedlock births because of the country¡¯s high religious population.


    Mitchell explained to Macaroni that his wife Cadence is aware and content that their children, Mckenny, Rose, Platinum, and Flurry, have half-sisters. He expressed his belief that if people don''t want children, they should abstain from sex. Mitchell mentioned that many acquaintances in Clearlake advocate for banning contraceptives to boost the country''s birth rate, citing moral grounds. He stated his opposition to these views and labeled himself as someone who wasn''t interested in having children but ended up having them. He criticized those who use religion to justify their stance on procreation. Mitchell concluded by saying that Cadence doesn''t consider sperm donation through natural insemination as infidelity.


    Mackenzie Rose inquired about the whereabouts of Sam and Jack. Mitchell explained that Jack was taking a nap, while Sam, a Designated Marksman, was positioned on the roof as a lookout.


    Mitchell remarked that Sam''s brain functioned like a computer chip, which Sonata dismissed as typical sniper training. She explained that snipers are trained to account for factors like gravity, wind, and bullet drop. For instance, the M75 DMR, a common gas-operated bullpup rifle used by the Little Bird Military, has a length of 43 inches, a 15-round box magazine, a muzzle velocity of 2600 ft/s, and an effective firing range of 950 yards.


    Sonata further elaborated that if a target is 633 feet away, snipers and designated marksmen are trained to adjust their aim and elevate their scope and weapon slightly higher than the target''s distance. This technique is particularly useful if the target''s distance is closer to the next scope adjustment level. The high muzzle velocity of the M75 DMR means the bullet will travel faster to the target. Conversely, a lower muzzle velocity means the bullet will travel slower and be in the air longer, increasing the time it can be affected by wind, gravity, and bullet drop.


    Macaroni, with a puzzled expression, voiced her confusion about the Little Bird military''s adoption of the Imperial system instead of the Metric system. She scratched her head, muttering, "Why do they miles and pounds? Because other militaries around the world use Meters and Kilometers." However, she then conceded, "Well, I guess different countries have their own ways of doing things."


    Meanwhile, Mackenzie Rose excused herself from the conversation, her brow furrowed with concern. She moved purposefully towards the wounded Little Birden Special Forces soldier they had rescued earlier. Although every soldier in the Little Bird military received comprehensive training in battlefield first aid and carried individual first aid kits (IFAKs) containing essential supplies like bandages, a tourniquet, burn ointment, water purification tablets, and QuikClot combat gauze, Mackenzie Rose''s medical expertise went beyond the basics.


    Slung over her shoulder was a specialized medical backpack, brimming with a comprehensive array of life-saving equipment. The backpack''s contents included an assortment of bandages in various sizes, sterile dressings, adhesive tape for securing wounds, clotting agents to control bleeding, a diazepam injection syringe for managing seizures and anxiety, an abdominal wound trauma kit for internal injuries, a chest wound dressing to seal punctures, an atropine injection syringe to counteract nerve agent poisoning, intravenous equipment for fluid and medication administration, a water-repellent heating blanket to prevent hypothermia, shears and scissors for cutting away clothing and bandages, splints for immobilizing fractures, an eye shield to protect injured eyes, a nasal trumpet to maintain airway patency, alcohol pads for sterilizing skin, and a compact, foldable stretcher for transporting patients.


    With her extensive medical knowledge and the comprehensive supplies in her backpack, Mackenzie Rose was prepared to provide the injured soldier with the advanced care he needed, potentially making the difference between life and death.


    The country was once known for its beauty, according to Sonata, before it was overrun by terrorists. The primary import is meat, and the primary export is paper.


    It has a large population, with a monarchy led by Sophia Y. Garcia. The population is 53% female and 47% male, with 52% over the age of 41 and 48% under the age of 40. The military comprises 2.7% of the total population.


    The official language is undefined; however, six other languages are spoken. The land mass is medium-sized, and the currency is the Unit. There are eight note denominations, with one unit equaling $5.54. The country is a member of an undefined alliance and is presently at war; Salaqueras is occupied by an OpFor. The country has one enemy nation.


    The culture is known for its soothing accent and simple clothing. Conservatism and democracy are the prevailing ideologies.


    Laws


    Commonly Prohibited


    Tax evasion


    Fraud


    Drug dealing


    Punishments for Criminals


    Imprisonment in the stocks


    Harassment


    Assassination


    A short prison sentence


    Mob attack


    Burning at the stake


    Socially Acceptable Behaviors


    Public drunkenness


    Major Taboos


    Witchcraft


    Cheating in games


    Punishments for Breaking Major Taboos


    Death by lethal injection


    Execution by firing squad


    Confiscation of property


    Minor Taboos


    Blowing your nose in public


    Playing loud music


    Gossiping


    Punishments for Breaking Minor Taboos


    Public humiliation


    Community service


    Harassment


    A small fine


    Sanctioned bullying


    Ostracism


    Slander


    Sonata revealed to Macaroni that she had visited the country during her first trimester, before her pregnancy was visible. She had come despite a Red Flag warning from the Little Bird government, which strongly discouraged travel to global hotspots. Macaroni compared this to a US Government travel advisory, which warns of issues like bad weather, security threats, civil unrest, or disease.


    Sonata acknowledged the similarity but emphasized that if she encountered trouble, neither the Little Bird military nor the government could help her. Unfortunately, she did get into trouble when the situation in the country worsened, and all flights, including overseas travel, were permanently delayed. Macaroni inquired about Sonata''s return home, and Sonata explained her good fortune. The Little Birden 2nd fleet was nearby, and her brother arranged for a Guided-Missile Destroyer to detach from the fleet and rescue her from the coast in a wooden rowboat.


    Sonata explained to the others, except Cadenza and Mackenzie Rose, that when she had to escape, she had to rehome her covert takedown and archery skills. Being outnumbered and outgunned, she had to be smart, especially since she was three weeks pregnant at the time. She was determined to get back home and have her babies.


    Sonata, with a hint of nostalgia, recounted her time in the military, a chapter that ended abruptly due to an unexpected pregnancy. She vividly remembered making the conscious decision to forgo the typical prenatal care route, opting out of OBGYN visits and ultrasounds. The distance to the nearest city and a whimsical desire to keep the baby''s gender a surprise played a significant role in her decision. The arrival of twins caught her off guard, a revelation she met with a mix of surprise and acceptance. Sonata candidly admitted to not delving into the plethora of pregnancy or child development books, choosing instead to navigate motherhood through experience and intuition. Even the decision to breastfeed was spontaneous, driven by the unavailability of formula at the local grocery store, a fact that Macaroni found quite astonishing.


    Macaroni''s curiosity led her to inquire about the mating program for Special Forces soldiers, a question that Sonata met with a gentle explanation. Macaroni wouldn''t qualify, Sonata explained, as she wasn''t part of the elite Little Bird Military Special Forces, having served in a foreign Navy. Sonata dispelled the common misconception that children of Special Forces soldiers were destined to follow in their parents'' footsteps. The reality was far more nuanced. Many young people on Little Bird enlisted in the military straight out of high school, completing a single 18-month tour before utilizing the military benefits to pursue higher education or vocational training. Mitchell chimed in, adding that certain branches, like the Marines and Airborne, were exclusively volunteer-based, seeking individuals who fully grasped the gravity of the commitment.


    Mitchell''s thoughts drifted to the stark contrast in war experiences among different types of soldiers. The Army and Marines, fueled by raw passion and deep-seated hatred, were known for their rapid advancements. In contrast, Airborne, Rangers, and Special Forces operated at a slower, more calculated pace, often maneuvering deep within enemy territory. The Army and Marines had earned a reputation for their unwavering resolve and ferociousness in battle, a testament to the moral complexities inherent in warfare. Mitchell recounted the chilling fact that the BCLBLFDF were prepared to sacrifice millions of their own soldiers to achieve victory over the Soviets, underscoring the historical willingness of Little Bird''s citizens to defend their homeland at any cost. He painted a vivid picture of young Little Birden soldiers, some barely 17, bravely facing the Soviet forces, their unwavering determination acknowledged even by Soviet officers.


    When asked how the Soviets lost the war, Mitchell explained that it was due to overconfidence and the ill-fated decision to underestimate their opponents. They failed to recognize the Little Birdens'' 200+ years of combat experience on their own soil and the fierce determination they had to protect their homeland. The Soviets, mostly conscripts, lacked the same will to fight as the Little Birdens who were battling for their country''s survival, not for a stratocratic-police state.


    Mitchell also highlighted the civil war that erupted between the Loyalists and "The Federation," who desired a democratic or republic government. This provided a perfect opportunity for the Federation rise up and that since day one of the war they provided aid to downed pilots and LBIAOSA agents by providing hidden caches, rest stops, guides, and informants, proving invaluable to both BCLBLFDF Special Forces and LBIAOSA missions. In which that the LBIAOSA done missions for ¡°The Federation¡± because of using an future alliance or have healthy country relationship and that by the LBIAOSA Agents doing missions for ¡°The Federation¡± also helped the war effort as well.


    Cadenza entered after some time and informed us that she had repaired the engine. It was only the radiator that had broken and a few bolts had come loose, which she fixed while dusting her hands off on her jumpsuit. Sonata questioned whether it was appropriate to clean her hands by using her jumpsuit, to which Cadenza retorted, "You''re not my mother," despite never having had a mother.


    Cadenza left to go into the garage.


    Mitchell explained to Sonata that he and Cadenza are superfetation twins; they share the same mother, but have different fathers. Cadenza''s father''s wife didn''t want children, so Mitchell''s mother offered to be a surrogate. This makes Mitchell and Cadenza half-siblings; they share a mother, but have different fathers. Before their fathers'' names were added to their birth certificates, they underwent DNA testing. Cadenza went with her father, who was a Major in the Little Bird Military Special Forces, but worked a desk job. Mitchell went with his mother and his father, who was the President of Little Bird at the time.


    Mitchell confessed that at one point, he and Cadenza had feelings for each other. However, once they discovered they were half-siblings, they decided to remain friends. Macaroni mentioned that the American state she was raised in for eleven years has a joke about cousins marrying, but she refused to repeat it, as she''d heard it too many times.


    Sonata, driven by an unwavering sense of duty and camaraderie, acknowledged the inherent risks and potential consequences of their decision to return to active duty. They understood that by embarking on this audacious mission to rescue their captured comrades, they would not only be defying orders but also blatantly violating international laws by invading another sovereign nation. The specter of a military tribunal loomed large, with charges of going AWOL and unauthorized incursion hanging over their head like a Damocles sword. The gravest of all punishments, execution by firing squad, was a stark possibility that Sonata had to confront.


    Yet, in their heart of hearts, Sonata believed that the noble cause of rescuing their fellow soldiers, who had selflessly put their lives on the line for their country, justified the immense risks involved. They were also optimistic that public sentiment would sway in their favor, recognizing the moral imperative of their actions and the injustice of leaving their comrades to languish in captivity.


    Macaroni, however, expressed skepticism about the potential repercussions of their actions, particularly regarding the reaction of the Little Bird government. She alluded to a historical incident that had taken place in 1943, hinting at the potential for a volatile situation.


    Mitchell, intrigued by Macaroni''s cryptic reference, mistakenly assumed that she was referring to Operation Husky and Operation Avalanche, the Allied invasion of Sicily and Italy during World War II. Macaroni quickly clarified that she was not alluding to the military operations themselves but rather to a lesser-known but equally significant event that had occurred in the aftermath of the invasion.


    She recounted the story of a riot that had erupted in the Eastside district of Empire City, triggered by the unjust and brutal treatment of a female sailor on furlough by the local police. The incident had quickly escalated into a full-blown riot, with the city''s authorities and media unfairly labeling the residents of the Eastside district as "Communist and Fascist sympathizers."


    The residents of the Eastside district, feeling aggrieved and marginalized by the authorities'' heavy-handed response and the media''s biased portrayal, resorted to desperate measures to protect their own. In a stark act of defiance and self-preservation, they deliberately inflicted injuries upon themselves or sought the assistance of the Italian mafia to fraudulently discharge their men and women from military service during World War II.


    When Sonata sought Macaroni''s perspective on a strategic decision, Macaroni drew a parallel to the unwavering resolve of the Little Bird community. She recounted how the residents of Little Bird had defiantly declared their intent to repel any Axis invaders back into the Pacific, showcasing their fierce determination and unwavering patriotism.


    Shifting focus, Macaroni shed light on the prevalent practice of draft evasion within the Eastside district. She explained how numerous men and women had exploited a legal loophole to circumvent mandatory military service. This loophole, established by a 1936 law, granted deferments to couples who had a child. The law recognized parenthood as a legitimate reason for exemption from conscription, whereas marriage alone was not considered sufficient grounds for avoiding service.


    Macaroni went on to elaborate on other methods individuals employed to evade the draft. She mentioned medical exemptions, which were granted to individuals with specific health conditions such as asthma, and conscientious objection, which allowed individuals with strong moral or religious objections to war to avoid combat service. Conscientious objectors were typically assigned to non-combatant units where they could serve without bearing arms.


    In 1941, Little Bird took a progressive step by introducing an alternative service program. This program provided conscientious objectors with various options to fulfill their service obligation without compromising their beliefs. They could choose to serve in non-combatant roles within the military, bypassing the rigors of basic training, or they could contribute their skills and expertise to other essential services such as firefighting or secretarial work. This program recognized the value of conscientious objectors'' contributions to society while respecting their pacifist convictions.


    Sonata expressed that she would not have wanted to be a Little Bird Military combat medic in the Second World War. Their uniform was indistinguishable from a regular infantryman''s, with the only difference being a white armband with a red cross. This armband, however, was not removable, making them easily identifiable targets. The marines and airborne had a similar system, their non-removable armband was a red circle with a white cross.


    Sonata also questioned how Mackenzie passed Marine training with her phobia of ships, since their training involves being on boats and ships due to their specialty involving fighting in the water and performing beach invasions. She acknowledged that the Marines do have Amphibious Armored Assault Vehicles that can each carry a platoon (30 Marines) to the beach.


    Sonata''s voice was heavy with remorse as she expressed her regret for not including Julia''s sister on their trip. "In hindsight," she admitted, "she might have been instrumental in helping us find Julia." The revelation that both Julia and her sister had been disowned by their families hung in the air, a stark testament to the harsh realities they faced. Sonata clarified that their estrangement wasn''t due to their sexual orientation, as Macaroni had initially assumed, but because Julia''s sister was, for all intents and purposes, a cyborg. This transformation, she explained, was a result of "Project ReGenesis."


    Macaroni''s curiosity was piqued. "Project ReGenesis? What''s that?" she inquired, her brow furrowed.


    Sonata elaborated, explaining that it was a Little Bird Health Program initiated by the military back in 2000. The project''s aim was to provide advanced cybernetic limbs for soldiers who had suffered the loss of limbs in combat. These weren''t just any prosthetics; they were designed to be highly functional and, remarkably, visually indistinguishable from natural human limbs.


    As if to punctuate Sonata''s explanation, Macaroni slowly extended her left arm, revealing it to be a cybernetic limb. A flicker of surprise crossed Sonata''s face, quickly replaced by understanding. "I lost my arm in a fire at a science facility," Macaroni explained, her voice steady. "A door closed on it, and well... surgery and a prosthetic arm were the only options." She recounted how the doctor had informed her about the need for periodic recalibration at a military base.


    Mitchell, who had been listening quietly, chimed in, "That''s right. And it''s crucial to keep that arm in good shape. It cost the taxpayers a pretty penny ¨C a hundred thousand dollars, to be precise."


    Sonata nodded, her gaze returning to Macaroni. "Julia''s sister is... well, she''s more cyborg than human at this point. Cybernetic feet, legs, arms, hands... the whole works." A hint of unease crept into her voice as she added, "She''s a firm believer in ''Human Transcendence.'' Thinks the future is all cyborgs and androids, with a few normal humans kept around for... breeding purposes."


    Macaroni''s expression was a mix of disbelief and morbid fascination. "That''s... messed up," she admitted, "but hey, she''s entitled to her beliefs, as twisted as they are."


    During their conversation, Sonata brought up a rather unsettling point - that some men, like Mitchell, were spared from becoming cyborgs solely because Julia''s sister believed their only value was in breeding. This notion clearly struck a nerve with Mitchell. He vehemently disagreed, arguing that while he wasn''t a geneticist, such a theory didn''t hold water. If it were true, he reasoned, there would only be a few generations of non-cyborg humans before everyone became related.


    He went on to explain his logic, drawing on something he''d overheard his Commanding Officer discussing. In small, isolated communities with only a handful of residents - say, 25 people - it was inevitable that after several generations, everyone would be related to some degree. This, he implied, would be the same outcome for non-cyborg humans if they were only kept around for breeding purposes.


    Macaroni, clearly intrigued by Mitchell''s line of reasoning, couldn''t resist a jab. He questioned how Mitchell could be so sure of this genetic phenomenon without any expertise in the field.


    Mitchell and Sonata delved deeper into the unsettling beliefs held by certain Little Bird military officers. These officers, they discovered, viewed their soldiers not as individuals but as mere experimental subjects in a relentless pursuit to engineer the "best of the best." Their chilling ideology drew disturbing parallels to the ancient human domestication of animals and the selective breeding of crops. The ultimate goal, it seemed, was to mold soldiers who were not only exceptionally healthy and strong but also unquestioningly obedient, mirroring the traits observed in Cadenza.


    Sonata, with a hint of unease in her voice, elaborated further on the historical roots of this practice. It was a tradition, she explained, that stretched back to the ancient Native Little Birden tribes. These tribes, living in a harsh and unforgiving environment, held a firm belief that only the strongest warriors could survive and, therefore, should be the ones to choose their mates and pass on their genes. The Nightingale tribe, in particular, known as the "Proud Warrior Race," had taken this belief to an extreme, structuring their entire social hierarchy around battle prowess. Regardless of gender, those who had survived numerous battles were granted the privilege of choosing their mates, even if those individuals were already married. This created a ruthless system where strength and survival in combat were the sole determinants of social status and reproductive rights.


    Macaroni expressed her belief that she understood the reason behind her and Mitchell''s cousin, David "Dave" Mitchell Waterson, assisting Macaroni''s girlfriend in conceiving children. She attributed this to Claire''s heritage as a half Native Little Birden from the Nightingale tribe.


    Macaroni, however, presented a different perspective, stating that her girlfriend chose him and he helped her have children simply as any good friend would. Macaroni remained skeptical, speculating that Dave''s actions were influenced by her girlfriend''s cultural background. She implied that her girlfriend may have coerced him, suggesting that she essentially told him, "You''re going to give me a child whether you like it or not."


    Mitchell countered Macaroni''s argument, proposing that Dave''s assistance could have been purely out of friendship, similar to how Mitchell helped Sonata become pregnant and have children. He implied that Dave''s actions didn''t necessarily have ulterior motives and could have been motivated by a genuine desire to help his friend.


    The group decided to take a break and settle into their surroundings. During this time, Mitchell discovered a functioning phone and immediately called his wife. After his conversation, he announced to the group that he had found a working phone.


    Macaroni, upon hearing that Mitchell''s first call was to his wife, questioned his priorities, asking, "The first person you decided to call was your wife?" Sonata interjected, emphasizing the practicality of the situation, stating that a working phone is a valuable resource, regardless of who was called first.


    Sonata then proceeded to use the phone herself. She decided to call in a favor from a childhood friend. Sonata''s request was met with resistance. The friend explained that she was on a watch list and couldn''t provide the clearance Sonata needed.


    Undeterred, Sonata reminded her friend of a past debt, stating, "Don''t give me that! You still owe me for what happened in Ft. Sunction. I''m calling it in." This declaration prompted the friend to reveal that during the war, the TSA (Tactical Solutions Associates) had used drones to survey the country and identify several heavily fortified locations that could potentially be used to house prisoners of war.


    Sonata''s friend, with a knowing glint in her eye, revealed that each heavily fortified base possessed a singular, heavily guarded entrance and exit point. This crucial piece of intelligence sparked an idea in Sonata''s mind. She proposed a daring plan: a stealth paradropping insertion. Her rationale was sound; enemies typically anticipate direct, frontal assaults, leaving them less prepared for a silent infiltration from the skies or a swift aerial attack.


    With a mischievous grin, Sonata turned to Mitchell, declaring it was his time to shine. After all, airborne assaults were his forte as a seasoned paratrooper. Mitchell, however, was quick to ground her enthusiasm. This wasn''t some romanticized WWII propaganda poster, he retorted. He vividly described a famous Little Bird Airborne poster that depicted a paratrooper descending gracefully with an open parachute, all while firing a Thompson-styled SMG one-handed. Wider versions of the poster showcased multiple paratroopers engaged in the same daring feat.


    Mitchell''s historical knowledge proved invaluable. He explained that in the early years of the Little Bird Army Airborne, SMGs were ubiquitous. Paratroopers, as the vanguard of the first wave, were often armed with these compact and maneuverable weapons. Transport aircraft would simultaneously drop heavy wooden or metallic crates containing the heavier armaments for the second wave, which consisted of riflemen and machine gunners. Upon landing, these soldiers would swiftly retrieve their weapons from the crates and join the fray.


    The evolution of paratrooper landing techniques was another fascinating aspect that Mitchell elucidated. In the late 1930s, Little Birden paratroopers were trained to jump head first and land on their knees and feet, followed by a quick roll. However, this method was eventually phased out due to the high incidence of injuries. The "Flared" landing, where paratroopers landed squarely on their feet, was practiced since 1941.


    In 1943, a new technique called the "Greased" landing was introduced. This method involved paratroopers starting to run close to the ground before touchdown, aiming to be "battle ready" immediately upon landing. However, the success of this technique was heavily dependent on wind conditions, leading to varied results.


    Mitchell expressed that this landing technique is superior to the "On Four" landing, used by the Little Bird Army Airborne. In an "On Four" landing, a paratrooper lands on their hands and knees, but it can take up to a minute to recover and remove their harness. He acknowledged that both the "On Four" and the traditional "Parachute Landing Fall" (PLF) are common in training. Many Little Bird paratroopers continue to use the PLF, but find it uncomfortable when wearing the combat armor introduced in September 2005.


    This discomfort arises because the advanced defensive polymers used in the armor are lightweight and incorporate components such as thermal-dissipative membranes, concussive protection plates, and synthetic fibers attached to the standard load-carrying equipment of the infantryman. Mitchell further explained that the winterized version of the armor is even more uncomfortable during landings due to its additional insulation and bulk, compared to the normal version designed for warm and hot climates with short sleeves.


    Jack entered the room and complained about the Marine combat armor being too tight in the crotch area. Mitchell jokingly retorted that Jack must have received a female version, implying that due to his slender physique, Jack could be mistaken for a woman from a distance. He teased Jack for not being the type to lift weights, emphasizing his skinny frame and rectangular torso.


    Sam countered Mitchell''s joke, stating that the armor was designed for a Marine of 5''9" height, which was Jack''s height when he received it. Sam suggested that Jack had grown a couple of inches since then, causing the discomfort. He compared the situation to someone with size eight feet trying to wear size five shoes, highlighting the issue of wearing something too small.


    Mitchell, however, took offense to Sam''s shoe size analogy, as he himself had unusually feet, measuring 9 ? inch foot length and wearing size seven shoes. He interpreted Sam''s comment as a personal jab due to his unique physical attribute.


    Sam attempted to clarify his point by using an analogy. He compared the situation to an adult wearing a shirt that is too small for them, much like someone trying to fit into a child''s clothing. Mitchell understood the comparison and humorously remarked that it sounded like his wife, Cadence.


    Cadence rarely wears shirts, opting mostly for dresses. However, when she did wear pants and a shirt, she would often borrow Mitchell''s clothes. These clothes were always baggy on her due to their large size. Mitchell wears a large shirt size because of his physique. While not overly muscular, he maintained a slightly athletic build through a combination of cardio and weightlifting exercises.


    Mitchell''s wife, Cadence, wears a medium dress or shirt size, which was significantly smaller than his large size.


    Sonata then expressed her relief that they weren''t facing a betrayal from within their own ranks. She explained that whenever the LBIAOSA appoints a new director, there''s always a faction that believes the new leader is unfit to command and that the LBIAOSA could be restructured into a more effective organization, even if it means sacrificing countless innocent lives in the process. Many past directors were internal reformists, forward-thinkers whose policies often involved introducing new blood into the LBIAOSA and phasing out older elements. They believed in the necessity of retirement for the old guard, advocating for a new way of doing things, echoing the adage, "You can''t teach an old dog new tricks."


    Sonata illustrated her point with a historical example: at the dawn of World War II, the LBIAOSA recognized the need for agents with specialized training to handle new threats like plastic explosives (such as Composition C) and to operate behind enemy lines. These agents underwent rigorous training in a variety of disciplines:


    Assassination: They were skilled in eliminating high-value targets with precision and stealth.


    Reconnaissance: They were experts in gathering intelligence and surveying enemy territory.


    Intelligence Gathering: They were trained to collect and analyze information critical to Allied operations.


    Sabotage: They were adept at disrupting enemy infrastructure and operations.


    Search and Rescue: They were capable of locating and extracting captured Allied POWs.


    These agents were deployed behind enemy lines to carry out a range of missions, including sabotaging enemy infrastructure and factories, stealing enemy blueprints for advancements in military technology, and freeing captured Allied POWs. Their specialized skills and training proved invaluable in the war effort.


    Mitchell, having just finished another phone call that lasted several minutes, was immediately questioned by Sonata about who he had spoken to this time. With a hint of exasperation in his voice, Mitchell revealed that it was his mother-in-law. He went on to explain that his mother-in-law had assured him of her ability to provide protection and support from her end. However, her tone turned grave as she warned them that if their current operation went sideways, it would be Mitchell, Sonata, Jack, Sam, Cadenza, Nighthawk, and Macaroni who would bear the consequences.


    She emphasized the severity of the situation, stating that they would be in a precarious position where no amount of political influence or connections could save them if their "mission" failed. The reason for this, Mitchell explained, was that their presence there was not just "unofficial" in the typical military sense of operating covertly. They were truly operating outside of any official sanction or support. If things went wrong, they would be completely on their own and vulnerable to the full force of any repercussions.


    Sonata, maintaining a firm and unwavering tone, addressed Mitchell directly. She elucidated the precarious nature of their situation: they were operating beyond the scope of authorized military action. Their mission lacked official sanction and support; it was, fundamentally, illegal. Their presence was voluntary, motivated by a commitment to rescue Julia and the other Special Forces soldiers who had been forsaken by the Little Bird Military. These soldiers were confronting a dire predicament¡ªdeath or indefinite captivity, subject to the whims of their captors.


    The allusion to potential protection for Mitchell''s mother-in-law against any repercussions stemming from their actions underscored the gravity of their decision. It was a calculated risk, a gamble with potentially severe consequences. Sonata then proceeded to delineate a strategy: a clandestine operation designed to neutralize the enemy without detection.


    At that juncture, Mackenzie Rose reentered the room, her entrance coinciding precisely with the conclusion of Sonata''s tactical briefing. With a tinge of sarcasm, she remarked, "What do we resemble? Charlie''s Angels?" Although facetious, her comment emphasized the audacity of their plan and the inherent perils they were confronting. It was a stark reminder that they were a small, autonomous team undertaking a formidable challenge, with the odds stacked against them.


    ¡°You might not but for me I was trained a hundred ways to kill a man and make it look like natural causes and I¡¯m trained a thousand ways to kill a man with whatever is at my disposal,¡± Sonata countered


    Sam and Sonata were having a conversation about life in small towns. Sonata, who lives in the tiny town of Dilimore, admitted that it had its ups and downs. One of the major downsides, she explained, was the agonizing wait times for just about everything.


    Unlike the town of Clearlake, where most of their friends resided, Dilimore didn''t have the luxury of a supermarket. Clearlake was conveniently connected to major highways like I-15, I-10, and I-15, making it easily accessible for residents and businesses alike. This accessibility likely contributed to Clearlake having a larger population and more developed infrastructure, including a supermarket.


    Dilimore, on the other hand, was a small, rural town in the middle of nowhere. Its only grocery option was a small, local grocer that stocked only the basic essentials. Sonata expressed her understanding of the situation, recognizing that the town''s size and remote location made it difficult to sustain a larger grocery store. However, she still found the grocer to be a major inconvenience.


    The grocer was small, with only two cashiers and limited inventory. On Saturdays, the lines could be excruciatingly long, with wait times of an hour or two not uncommon. Even with modern, barcode-scanning cash registers, the checkout process was slow and inefficient.


    Mitchell, who lives in Clearlake, chimed in, mentioning that their supermarket still used outdated cash registers from the 1970s. These ancient machines required cashiers to punch in credit and debit card numbers manually, and then wait for the terminal to make an automated phone call to the cardholder''s bank to verify the card and transfer funds.


    Sonata expressed her concern that the town''s livelihood is inextricably linked to the mines. She believes that if the mines were to close, the town''s economy would plummet, leading to mass unemployment and an exodus of residents seeking work elsewhere. The once-bustling town would then risk becoming a ghost town, haunted by empty buildings and silent streets.


    However, Sonata also predicted that the closure wouldn''t deter everyone. Thrill-seekers and daredevils, she warned, would be drawn to the abandoned mines, enticed by the allure of danger and the thrill of exploring forbidden territory. But these adventurers would face a myriad of hazards that lurk within the depths of the deserted mines.


    The dangers are numerous and varied. The ground itself could be unstable, prone to subsidence and collapse, swallowing the unwary. Remnants of past mining operations, such as undetonated explosives, could remain hidden, waiting to be accidentally triggered with catastrophic consequences. The air within the mines could be deadly; blackdamp, a suffocating gas, could accumulate in stagnant areas, while unventilated tunnels could harbor a toxic mix of poisonous gases and oxygen-deficient air.


    The physical structure of the mines would also pose threats. Hidden shafts, concealed by overgrown vegetation or weakened boards, could give way underfoot. Tunnels, roofs, and passageways could be unstable and prone to cave-ins, burying those below. Rotting timbers and ladders could collapse, sending climbers plummeting into the darkness.


    The environment within the mines could also be hostile to human life. Venomous snakes, spiders, and other dangerous creatures could make their homes in the dark corners. Deep pools of contaminated water and flooded tunnels could lead to drowning, hypothermia, or waterborne diseases. Hazardous remnants of mined elements, such as lead, could poison the unsuspecting. The layout of the mines, often pitch-black and labyrinthine, could easily disorient explorers, leading them to become lost or trapped.


    Additional dangers could include radioactive materials left behind from certain types of mining, falling rocks from unstable ceilings, and the ever-present risk of injury from sharp edges and protruding objects.


    Macaroni added a real-world perspective to Sonata''s concerns. She shared that her and Mitchell¡¯s cousin Dave works out of a firehouse that has specialized firefighters in the city of Empire. That team is trained to respond to urban disasters, including structural collapses and mine cave-ins. She revealed that many of their calls involve rescuing people who have ventured into abandoned mines around the city, only to become trapped when the unstable structures collapse.


    Sonata then shifted the conversation, mentioning that Julia and her sister shared a fascination with a particular vehicle employed by the Little Bird military. This vehicle, known as the "Visala Viper," was a hybrid anti-materiel and anti-fortification platform. While classified as a main battle tank, its design prioritized agility and maneuverability over heavy armor.


    The Visala Viper''s exceptional mobility stemmed from its six all-terrain wheels, which allowed it to traverse challenging landscapes with ease. These wheels were further protected by pivoting guards at the front and rear. Interestingly, the two rear wheels retracted when the vehicle entered "lockdown mode," a feature that hinted at its dual functionality.


    In its standard mode, the Visala Viper operated as a highly mobile tank hunter and gun system, equipped with two 30mm light railguns. These railguns fired high-density ferrous slugs at incredible velocities, relying on kinetic energy to penetrate enemy armor. Due to the immense power requirements, the railguns could only fire intermittently, alternating between the two cannons. However, a synchronized blast from both railguns could obliterate even the most heavily armored targets.


    The Visala Viper''s lockdown mode transformed it into a formidable artillery piece. In this mode, the two 30mm railguns combined to form a single 105mm heavy railgun capable of firing both high-density ferrous slugs and conventional explosive shells at supersonic speeds. This versatility allowed the Visala Viper to engage a wide range of targets, from heavily fortified positions to enemy armor.


    Mitchell was explaining how his cousin by marriage, Visala, had been instrumental in revolutionizing the Little Bird Armed Forces'' arsenal. Visala was a brilliant mind, with a knack for creating futuristic weapons. One of her most significant contributions was an artillery tank, unique among LBAF vehicles due to its  armament: a devastating plasma cannon.


    This plasma cannon was capable of firing superheated plasma at a 45-degree angle, with a remarkable firing range of 62 miles. The plasma it fired was not only destructive upon impact but also had tactical applications. By strategically deploying the plasma cannon, the LBAF could create "aerials of denial",  effectively preventing enemy soldiers and vehicles from using certain routes. This forced them into chokepoints or kill zones, where the LBAF could concentrate their firepower.


    Mitchell emphasized that Visala''s ingenuity extended far beyond the plasma cannon. He believed that without Visala''s contributions, Project Phoenix would still be outdated. This project involved creating genetically modified super soldiers with unbreakable bones, enhanced strength, senses, and reflexes, who were also equipped with advanced power armor suits complete with deflector shields. These super soldiers were a formidable force on the battlefield, capable of turning the tide of any battle.


    Furthermore, Visala had introduced other groundbreaking gene mods for the military. These included modifications that gave soldiers hyper-reactive pupils for improved vision in low light conditions, enhanced depth perception, and adaptive bone marrow that accelerated healing and increased overall agility. Some soldiers even received gene mods that increased the density of muscle fiber in their legs, allowing them to jump slightly higher, giving them an edge in close combat and traversal.


    Mitchell''s account painted a picture of Visala as a visionary and a game-changer. Her inventions and advancements had propelled the Little Bird Armed Forces into a new era of military prowess.


    Mitchell disclosed Visala¡¯s endorsement of a "breeding program," wherein former special forces soldiers, both male and female, would be encouraged to have children after their military service. This initiative stems from Visala''s advanced genetic manipulation capabilities, which enable her to modify human traits even before birth.


    Mitchell, caught up in his own enthusiasm, continued to elaborate on Visala''s impressive accomplishments. He detailed how she single-handedly engineered the LB-45, a formidable energy weapon inspired by the M1928 Thompson submachine gun. This innovative laser rifle, with its titanium-housed crystal array, was not only remarkably powerful but also incredibly durable, capable of withstanding prolonged exposure to harsh environmental conditions.


    Mitchell meticulously listed the weapon''s specifications, emphasizing its rapid 2.5-second reload time, substantial 24-round ammunition capacity, and efficient semi-automatic firing mode, capable of delivering 24 shots per release. He marveled at Visala''s ingenuity, highlighting how her groundbreaking work had propelled the nation of Little Bird to the forefront of technological advancement.


    However, Mitchell''s tone shifted as he cautiously revealed Visala''s peculiar fascination with reproduction, particularly human reproduction. He hinted at her audacious ambition to elevate humanity to the next evolutionary stage, leaving Sonata apprehensive and hesitant to delve deeper. Mitchell''s cryptic response only fueled Sonata''s unease.


    He went on to explain that while some of Visala''s species possessed 34 chromosomes, her alien physiology had uniquely adapted to facilitate interspecies offspring, such as Human-Verlopiousian hybrids. Mitchell also alluded to the possibility of legally modifying humans to enhance their physical capabilities, citing Cadenza''s unbreakable bones, super strength, and heightened reflexes as examples.


    In Visala''s case, Mitchell suggested that she was interested in bestowing humans with "The Gift." Macaroni, interjecting with skepticism, likened "The Gift" to something out of science fiction, envisioning humans wielding extraordinary psychic abilities. These abilities, she speculated, would extend far beyond those of ordinary psychics, enabling individuals to manipulate reality with their minds, casting telekinetic fields, inducing panic, inspiring others, controlling minds, and even inflicting mental anguish.


    Sonata asked ¡°Verlopoiousian?¡±


    Mitchell explained that Visala hailed from a planet called "Verlopoious". He detailed how their historical timelines diverged; when Earth was in its Classical era, Verlopoious was experiencing its Industrial Revolution. Similarly, Earth''s Industrial era corresponded to Verlopoious'' Cold War period.


    Visala, Mitchell explained, was born towards the end of Earth''s World War period, placing her birth around the early years of the 22nd Century on Verlopoious'' timeline. However, Mitchell admitted that Visala''s exact birthdate was ambiguous due to differing interpretations of historical periods.


    On Little Bird, the "tail end" of a war is taught to encompass the final year when surrender was inevitable. In the context of Earth''s World War, this period extended from roughly July 1944 to September 1945, when the Axis powers were desperate and resorting to increasingly unpredictable measures.


    Therefore, Visala''s age on Earth is either 66 or 67, depending on the specific birthdate within that timeframe. However, from the perspective of her home planet Verlopoious, she is only 29 years old. This discrepancy highlighted the significant differences in timelines and cultural perspectives between Earth and Verlopoious.


    During a conversation, Sonata inquired about Mitchell''s intuition regarding Visala''s true age. Mitchell responded with a touch of humor, stating that he''d never inquire about a woman''s age directly. However, he ventured a guess, suggesting that Visala was likely between 29 and 34 years old. He based this estimation on the assumption that she was still within her childbearing years. Mitchell concluded his response by emphasizing that his guess was as good as anyone else''s, and that Visala''s age remained somewhat ambiguous.


    Jack, in a moment of candid conversation, revealed that he had once overheard Visala talking to Mitchell about his wedding. Visala''s words, as Jack recounted, were somewhat dismissive, suggesting that Mitchell was "marrying a nice woman" who would likely "bear many children." Sonata, who was present during this exchange, interjected with a touch of irony. She remarked that, given Mitchell''s recent praise of Visala, it wasn''t surprising that Visala held such opinions.


    Mitchell, however, had been quite clear about his wife Cadence''s choices. He had emphasized that Cadence''s decision to be a stay-at-home mom was entirely her own, made of her own free will. Jack, undeterred, countered with another piece of overheard gossip. He claimed that Visala had muttered something about Cadence''s role on her homeworld being that of a "breeder." Mitchell acknowledged that Cadence''s mother, Star, had expressed similar sentiments, but he dismissed them as the typical longings of a mother for grandchildren.


    Eager to clarify any misconceptions, Mitchell delved into the specifics of Visala''s homeworld''s culture. He explained that on Visala''s planet, there existed a profession, open to both genders, where individuals were paid to either impregnate someone or carry a child to term. Once the child was born, it was handed over to the father and his partner, severing all ties with the birth mother. Mitchell likened this practice to surrogacy, but with a crucial distinction: on Visala''s world, it was a recognized career path, and the birth mother or sperm donor had no legal or emotional connection to the child.


    Mitchell further elaborated on the intricacies of this system. He explained that if a couple who had hired a breeder ended up with more children than they desired - twins, for instance, when they only wanted one child - the breeder had the option of keeping the additional child or relinquishing them to the government''s adoption system. However, the most common outcome in such situations was for the breeder''s friends or family to legally adopt the extra children.


    Mitchell recounted his conversation with Visala, who had explained the two methods for procreation on her home planet. For homosexual couples, there was the option of a "biological child," achieved through advanced scientific techniques that combined the DNA of both partners, a concept Mitchell found astonishing.


    The alternative was "natural conception," the only legally recognized method for heterosexual couples on Visala''s world. However, Visala had revealed that same-sex couples were exempt from this law if they wished to have a child. They could choose to have a child through DNA combination, similar to the biological child process, or they could opt for a natural child with a "breeder" of the opposite sex.


    During a conversation, Jack and Sam shared their observations about some of their male relatives. They noted that these relatives seem to have an aversion to growing up and taking on responsibilities. Instead, they appear to emulate the stereotypical image of a "frat bro" ¨C someone who engages in casual sexual relationships without considering the potential consequences.


    Jack and Sam expressed particular concern about the lack of responsibility these relatives display when it comes to fatherhood. They mentioned instances where these relatives had engaged in unprotected sex that resulted in pregnancies, leaving the women with no choice but to take legal action to secure child support. Sam even revealed that some of his extended family members currently have outstanding warrants for their arrest due to unpaid child support.


    Despite their apparent disregard for the responsibilities of fatherhood, Jack and Sam noted a peculiar irony ¨C these same relatives would likely jump at the opportunity to have a job where they could conceive children without having to form any relationship with the child or provide any financial support.


    Soon Cadenza returned all suited up in her advanced power armor and asked if we¡¯re going on to raid the next place so we decided to go.

 Fort Squalabalm and Fort

    Fort Squabalum.


    "Who in the Hell names a place ''Squabalum''? That''s stupid," Sonata grumbled, kicking a loose rock across the dusty ground.


    Mitchell returned from his scouting mission with Sam and Jack


    "The bridge is the only dry way to the Fort," Sam reported,


    Jack, added, "The alternative is swimming the water around the island fortress." He gestured towards the vast expanse of water surrounding the imposing structure, its dark surface reflecting the ominous grey clouds above.


    Sonata, her mind already racing, contemplated their options. A plan began to form, its contours shaped by the urgency of their situation and the formidable defenses they faced. "We''ll use the water," she declared, "Any sane defender would focus on the bridge ¨C it''s the obvious approach. They''ll have it mined, guarded, fortified. The water, though... that''s where we''ll find our advantage."


    Her companions listened intently as she outlined her strategy, their initial skepticism gradually replaced by a grudging admiration for her audacious plan. It was risky, undoubtedly, but it also offered their best chance of success. The element of surprise, coupled with the cover of darkness, could be their key to infiltrating the heavily fortified island fortress.


    As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape, Sonata and her team prepared for their daring aquatic assault. The battle for Fort Squabalum was about to begin, and the outcome was far from certain.


    "At least we left Mackenzie Rose and Cadenza behind," Sam said, exhaling heavily as he leaned against a crumbling wall, the dampness seeping through his worn fatigues.


    Mitchell nodded, his expression grim. "Yeah, we had to. Remember that soldier we rescued? Needed serious medical attention, and Cadenza... well, she''s not exactly subtle. Trying to hide a half-ton titanium suit that leaves a trail of destruction wherever it goes? Not to mention her acrobatics... we''d have been spotted in no time."


    A shiver ran down Sam''s spine as he recalled the booming crashes and tremors that accompanied Cadenza''s movements. "True. And this place..."


    "I''ve heard about this place," Macaroni spoke up, "Nothing pleasant."


    Sam raised an eyebrow. "How so?"


    Macaroni''s eyes darkened. "Since the Medieval ages, this place was basically a non-Russian Gulag before Gulags even existed. The prisoners sent here... Let''s just say fighting a tiger barehanded would be preferable. It has a long, dark history, and none of it is pretty. Built to withstand any siege, it has survived every hurricane and storm surge. It was constructed back in the early Medieval era to house anyone the government didn''t want but couldn''t kill. And the prisoners..." She trailed off


    Sam''s blood ran cold. "What about them?"


    Macaroni swallowed hard. "Their fate... it was worse than death. They were subjected to unspeakable horrors, their cries echoing through these very walls."


    Sonata replied, "Maybe they''ll have prisoners from either the previous regime or people that were causing trouble for the OpFor here," her eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor, the silence punctuated only by the distant hum of machinery.


    Mitchell, his brow furrowed in concentration, nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "So you''re guessing we find the control room, get the OpFor''s attention, and release the prisoners to fight the guards when the OpFor attention is directed to us," he summarized, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Sonata confirmed, "That was the plan in my mind." She paused, her expression hardening, "Because in my mind, the people locked up in here are either members of the previous regime or people who fought against the OpFor the moment they took over."


    Macaroni, her voice laced with cynicism, chimed in, "I''m surprised that when the war was here, when the OpFor was overthrowing their government, that the Americans didn''t come." She scoffed, "The United States, a peace-loving champion of justice, or a heavy-handed bully meddling in foreign affairs to get their hands on oil reserves depending on the situation," her words dripping with sarcasm.


    Mitchell shot Macaroni a warning glance, his expression stern. "Watch your tongue," he hissed, his voice barely audible. "We don''t need to be attracting any more attention than we already are."


    Sonata nodded in agreement, her expression grim. "Macaroni''s right, though," she admitted, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness. "The US has a long history of intervention, but they always seem to have their own agenda."


    The discussion grew heated as Macaroni insisted that Mitchell and Cadenza were undeniably American, their birthplace of the South Bronx solidifying their citizenship.


    The tension momentarily subsided as they faced the challenge of crossing the water. Their ingenuity led them to a solution: using buoyancy to their advantage, they allowed the water''s current to carry them to the opposite shore. Sonata, ever prepared, unsheathed her knife, a silent signal for Mitchell, Jack, and Sam to follow suit. Lacking suppressed weapons, they knew their success depended on stealth and quiet takedowns. With a combination of skill and caution, Mitchell managed to pry open an old, rusted iron gate, their path forward now clear.


    The musty air of the underground passage hung heavy, a stark contrast to the lively banter that had filled the space moments before. Mitchell''s voice, usually laced with an easygoing warmth, held a note of finality as he addressed his cousin, Macaroni. "We''ll finish this conversation later," he stated, his gaze holding Macaroni''s for a beat longer than usual. The unspoken tension crackled between them, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of their situation.


    With a nod, Macaroni fell into step behind Mitchell, their footsteps echoing hollowly as they ventured deeper into the subterranean labyrinth. The darkness swallowed them whole, their figures illuminated only by the flickering beams of their headlamps.


    Behind them, Sam''s voice cut through the silence, a low murmur barely audible above the rhythmic drip of water from the cavern''s ceiling. "Time to get rich," he muttered, his words laced with a mix of anticipation and cynicism.


    Sonata and Jack, their expressions hidden in the shadows, interpreted Sam''s statement in vastly different ways. Sonata''s eyes gleamed with excitement, her mind already envisioning the treasures that awaited them within the depths of the passage. "Good loot," she thought, her fingers twitching with the urge to start digging.


    Jack, on the other hand, scoffed inwardly. "Unofficial and unsanctioned," he reminded himself. Yet, a flicker of satisfaction danced in his eyes. Despite the clandestine nature of their mission, their military paycheck would continue uninterrupted. "Getting paid either way," he mused, a wry smile playing on his lips.


    The air was thick with tension as Macaroni whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "Hope we don''t have to face anybody that''s going to be another enemy."


    Sonata''s reply was equally hushed, "Well, there have been reports of an all-female mercenary group operating in some parts of the island. They''re full of misandrists."


    Sam, his curiosity piqued, interrupted, "What''s a misandrist?"


    Macaroni, her brow furrowing slightly, explained, "A misandrist is a woman who hates men."


    A chill ran down Sam''s spine as he digested this information. The thought of encountering a group of women who harbored such intense hatred towards men was unsettling, to say the least. He wondered what could have driven them to such extremes, what experiences had twisted their hearts and minds to the point where they viewed all men with such animosity.


    "The Veil of Thorns," Sonata announced, her voice laced with a hint of warning. "Now, if we encounter any situation that requires dialogue," she continued, her gaze sweeping over Mitchell, Sam, and Jack, "I expect you three to maintain absolute silence. Not a word, not a whisper. Understood?"


    In a tense exchange, Jack questioned why he, Sam, and Mitchell were expected to remain silent. Sonata responded with a chilling explanation, revealing that the women in "The Veil of Thorns" were far more likely to resort to violence - either killing them outright or capturing them for a single use before disposing of them.


    Jack''s confusion was evident, prompting Macaroni to elaborate further on their grim fate. She explained that the women would use Jack solely for reproductive purposes, by getting impregnated by him and then discarding him once his usefulness was fulfilled most likely being killed afterwards.


    Sam''s response underscored the numerous male relatives he could reach out to who would readily embrace a similar predicament. These relatives, he explained, already engaged in behaviors that led to fathering multiple children and facing court-ordered child support. This implied that they were accustomed to the responsibilities and complexities of parenthood, even if they weren''t always actively involved in their children''s lives.


    Despite this network of relatives, Sam expressed a willingness to be a sperm donor if it meant avoiding interference in someone else''s life and the potential for unintended consequences. He implied that he preferred a less entangled route, even if it meant contributing to a family in a more detached way. Sam even compared his potential role as a sperm donor and Sonata''s situation with her two daughters, Mackenzie Jackson and Sonata Jr. He likened himself to Mitchell, who is Sonata Jr and Mackenzie Jackson''s father and is listed on their birth certificates. However, Mitchell isn''t obligated to provide a set amount of money to Sonata each month to raise the children. Sam highlighted that while the government recognizes Mitchell as the birth father, Sonata doesn''t pursue him for child support. This lack of legal obligation creates a scenario similar to that of an anonymous sperm donor or a child conceived through a fertility clinic.


    Intrigued by Sam''s reference to "Paramarines" and their stamina, Sonata inquired about their existence. Sam clarified that while the Little Bird military doesn''t have "Paramarines" in the traditional sense, Mitchell had been a temporary volunteer in the Mariens, acting as a liaison to another branch when he and Sonata met. The closest equivalent to "Paramarines" in the Little Bird Marines are the "Marine Commandos," who are renowned for their extended operations behind enemy lines and their specialized hit-and-run tactics. Sam further explained that the Marine Commandos are the only Marines, besides the LBMCAF (Little Bird Marine Corps Aviation Force), trained in parachute deployment, enabling them to be dropped into operations from the air.


    Shifting the conversation, Mitchell expressed his puzzlement over the names of the four Marine Commando units: "Sapphire," "Calcite," "Aragonite," and "Pearl." He recounted that when they were established in 1941, they were called "Sapphire," "Ruby," "Turquoise," and "Lapis," with the last one being short for Lapis Lazuli. Mitchell understood why "Sapphire" remained, as sapphire gemstones share the same blue color as water, often depicted in drawings and crayons. However, he questioned why "Lapis Lazuli" wasn''t retained, implying that its historical significance or unique characteristics warranted its continued use.


    "Ah yes, the ''Sapphire'' outfit of the Marine Commandos, once nicknamed the ''All-Female'' outfit," Sonata began, her voice laced with a hint of nostalgia. "Back in 1941, the Marines were the last branch of the L.B. military forced by the government to allow women to join in combative roles, rather than relegating them to clerical work. The Army, Air Force, Army Air Force, Rangers, and Airborne had all integrated women into combat positions, but the Marines resisted. With the world at war, however, they had to accept the inevitable."


    Sonata paused, her expression thoughtful. "Many Marine officers, especially those of the ''Old Guard'' who had been in the military for a long time and were resistant to change, didn''t like how many of the women outperformed their male counterparts in every field. They failed to consider the backgrounds of these female recruits. Many were farm girls, born and raised in rural areas, often without a father figure due to the First World War. They had learned to be self-sufficient and resilient, taking on tasks typically reserved for men. They knew how to use tools, fix things around the house, and even handle firearms for hunting. These women were tough and resourceful, shaped by their challenging upbringing."


    "In contrast," Sonata continued, "the average male Marine trainee was often a naive cityslicker who hadn''t experienced the same level of hardship. Many lived in comfortable homes or apartments, where their fathers or brothers, even if disabled, could easily navigate and contribute. In rural areas, the situation was different. The First World War had decimated the male population in many small towns, leaving few options for widows to remarry and creating a generation of women who had to take on traditionally male roles to survive."


    Sonata''s voice softened as she spoke of the societal impact of the war. "In cities, widows had a greater chance of finding a new partner due to the larger population. But in rural communities, the scarcity of men meant that many women remained single, shouldering the responsibilities of both parents. The war had drastically altered the social fabric of these towns, leaving a lasting impact on gender roles and expectations."


    Macaroni, who had been listening intently, interjected, "I come from a certain American state, and I can guess where you''re headed with this, Sonata."


    The group cautiously navigated the twisting underground tunnel, their footsteps echoing in the damp silence. They reached a fork in the path, where the left passage was ominously blocked by rusted iron bars. With no other option, they turned right, their unease growing with each step.


    As they continued, the tunnel opened into a larger chamber, where a rickety ladder led up to a closed manhole cover. A tense silence fell over the group as they contemplated their next move. Mitchell, a man with a wife and children waiting for him at home, instinctively began to climb the ladder.


    Sonata, a mother herself, followed closely behind Mitchell, her maternal instincts urging her to protect him despite the danger. Sam, Jack, and Macaroni watched in surprise, their protests cut short by Mitchell''s swift action. They had wanted to volunteer to climb first, arguing that Mitchell had more to lose. Sam and Jack are married but childless, while Macaroni has only a girlfriend and no children. However, Mitchell''s determination to do what the military won¡¯t have overridden their concerns, and he had begun his ascent before they could voice their objections.


    To Sam, Mitchell''s focus on the mission stemmed from a deep-seated belief that a soldier''s duty was inherently tied to danger and risk. This conviction was exemplified during the war when Mitchell had pointedly remarked, "Wars have never been won by the two sides playing a card game," a statement that resonated with Sam''s own understanding of the sacrifices involved in military service.


    This understanding was further reflected in Sam''s decision to name his father as the beneficiary of his military life insurance policy. This choice was a response to the strong bond they shared, a relationship characterized by his father''s unwavering dedication. Despite working grueling 14-hour days as a restaurant owner, Sam''s father always made time for his son, whether it was helping with homework or taking him to a ball game. These shared experiences fostered Sam''s love for both baseball and football, and instilled in him a deep appreciation for his father''s presence in his life.


    Sam recognized that his father had played a far more significant role in his upbringing than his mother ever had. His father had imparted invaluable life skills, such as cooking and money management, long before Sam even entered the 6th grade. Consequently, by the time he reached middle school, Sam was already equipped with practical knowledge that extended far beyond the basics. He understood the difference between wants and needs, could navigate tax forms, balance a checkbook, and even count money - skills that his peers were only just beginning to grasp. Taking Home Economics in 6th grade was merely a formality for Sam, a way to fulfill a requirement while already possessing a firm foundation in essential life skills.


    As Sam, Jack, and Macaroni stealthily infiltrated the fort''s interior, the scene that unfolded before them was a stark contrast to the silence of their entry. It was a controlled chaos, a whirlwind of activity that held an undercurrent of disciplined precision.


    Mitchell and Sonata were the eye of the storm. Their movements were a blur, a synchronized dance of deadly efficiency. They were engaged in a close-quarters combat with two OpFor guards. The guards, though formidable in their own right, were no match for the duo''s seamless teamwork and honed skills.


    The takedown was swift and silent, a master skill to their expertise. With a final, decisive move, the guards were neutralized, their bodies slumping to the ground with barely a whisper.


    A brief moment of silence followed, broken only by Mitchell''s voice, "Die already you¡­ Son of a bitch. Two down. About a thousand to go." His words, though lighthearted, underscored the daunting task that lay ahead.


    Sonata and the crew moved like shadows, quiet and careful. They only went after the guards if they had to, focusing on being sneaky and getting the job done without a messy fight. They really didn''t want to get caught.


    Macaroni, always the practical one, had warned them not to think this was like a video game. He reminded them that there were no respawns or alarms that went off after a certain number of enemies were taken down and their bodies being discovered. In the real world, they had to hide the bodies, and if their buddies were found, it would mean tighter security and a messed-up mission.


    So, they had to pick their targets carefully, choosing the right moments and making sure they had a good spot to hide the evidence. Every guard they took down had to be worth it, and every body had to be hidden really, really well.


    To Sonata, the experience of sneaking past the OpFor triggers a memory from her past stealth training. She recalls the grueling exercises where she and fellow special forces trainees had to navigate past friendly soldiers disguised as enemy combatants. The challenge was immense; if spotted, the trainees would be ordered to "Start over," forcing them to repeat the entire infiltration attempt.


    Sonata remembers the frustration and pressure of those training scenarios. The consequences of failure in the real world were far more severe; instead of simply restarting, getting caught by the enemy would likely result in death.


    Time wore on, and the group inevitably found themselves at a crossroads. Mitchell and Sonata, their synergy undeniable, decided to forge ahead on one path. Jack, Sam, and Macaroni, their camaraderie equally strong, chose a different route. Macaroni, though lacking a knife, possessed a handgun. She held it unconventionally, by the barrel, the grip and magazine exposed, her readiness to use it as a blunt force weapon should the need arise.


    Their decision to split up was strategic. Sonata, ever the tactician, recognized that smaller units could navigate the terrain more swiftly and efficiently than a larger, more cumbersome group. By dividing their forces, they could cover more ground, increase their chances of locating the POWs, and minimize the risk of detection.


    This strategy was rooted in the very nature of Special Forces operations. Such missions, especially those conducted deep within enemy territory, relied on stealth and agility. Large groups were conspicuous and vulnerable, drawing unwanted attention from the enemy. In contrast, smaller units could move discreetly, blending into the shadows


    Visala, Macaroni and Mitchell''s cousin by marriage, spearheaded the advancement of the Little Bird Military''s technological infrastructure. Under her guidance, they developed cutting-edge weaponry, sophisticated computers, and even autonomous robotic armies. However, Visala remained acutely aware of the potential dangers of their creations. She foresaw a scenario where enemy nations would attempt to steal or replicate their advanced technology, potentially using it against them.


    To mitigate this risk, Visala focused on developing entanglement-based technology. This innovative approach, which far surpassed the military infrastructure of any other nation, offered a higher level of security and control. Additionally, she created a wrist-mounted computer for Little Bird''s special forces soldiers. This device provided them with an array of capabilities, including scaling buildings, hacking systems, and executing complex tasks.


    Visala''s contributions were instrumental in transforming the Little Bird Military into a formidable force, equipped with unparalleled technology and prepared for the challenges of modern warfare. Her foresight and ingenuity ensured that their advancements remained secure, while her entanglement-based technology provided a strategic advantage over potential adversaries.


    Sonata and Mitchell cautiously made their way through the labyrinthine facility, their senses on high alert. Their objective was clear: locate the control room. They moved with the stealth and precision of seasoned operatives, quickly and silently neutralizing the guards they encountered.


    Once inside the control room, Mitchell immediately went to work on the computer system. With a cursory glance, he noted the outdated technology. "This system''s ancient," he muttered, "Late 90s, I''d guess." His fingers flew across the keyboard as he navigated the antiquated interface.


    Suddenly, a CCTV feed caught his eye. There, on the screen, were Sam, Jack, and Macaroni. Without hesitation, Mitchell pressed a button, triggering the opening of a door somewhere within the facility.


    A voice crackled over the intercom, tinged with frustration. "Mitchell or Sonata, if you can see us, you opened the wrong door." It was Sam. Mitchell and Sonata exchanged a knowing glance. They had miscalculated, but Sonata pressed another button in which it opened another door in which Sam, Jack and Macaroni were able to move on going forward.


    Mitchell and Sonata, ever vigilant, tracked Jack, Sam, and Macaroni''s movements through the facility''s CCTV network. Utilizing the remote control system, they opened the cell doors, prompting Mitchell to remark on the inherent flaw of such technology. "Imagine if the power went out," he mused, "We''d be unable to open or close these doors. It''s understandable why prisons use them; it prevents inmates from overpowering guards for their keys or fashioning their own to bypass traditional locks."


    His thoughts then turned to Little Bird, all prisons where riots are less frequent due to the stringent cell design. Everything was bolted down, leaving little for inmates to manipulate. However, he acknowledged that such a facility was a last resort for certain offenders. For others, rehabilitation could be achieved through alternative means, like mandatory counseling, community service, or house arrest.


    As Mitchell and Sonata continued their work, opening doors to allow Macaroni, Jack, and Sam to proceed, a thoughtful conversation unfolded. Mitchell, reflecting on his role as a police officer, expressed his satisfaction that alternative methods existed beyond incarceration. He acknowledged that some criminals he and his partner Starlight had encountered didn''t truly belong in a cramped jail cell. Instead, they required someone to talk to, medication, psychiatric care, or other forms of support.


    Mitchell felt encouraged that some individuals were receiving the necessary treatment and assistance, rather than being locked away and forced into the prison''s "trust system." This system, while offering certain inmates privileges and responsibilities, was still a far cry from true rehabilitation. He recognized the irony of inmates working within the prison, earning meager wages to spend in the commissary, all while remaining trapped within the system that had confined them.


    He believed that true justice involved addressing the root causes of criminal behavior, not simply punishing offenders. He envisioned a system that prioritized rehabilitation and reintegration, offering individuals the opportunity to become productive members of society. While acknowledging the complexities of the criminal justice system, Mitchell remained hopeful that a more compassionate and effective approach could be achieved.


    In the Little Bird prison system, the philosophy of rehabilitation over idleness is deeply ingrained. From the moment of intake, new inmates are made aware that their sentence is not meant to be a period of inactivity. The expectation is clear: inmates will work. They will not be allowed to languish in their cells for 22 hours a day; the remaining two hours are strictly allocated for essential activities like meals, recreation, and yard time.


    The prison operates with the understanding that meaningful employment is a key component of rehabilitation. By requiring inmates to work within the prison system, it aims to equip them with skills and a work ethic that will facilitate their reintegration into society upon release.


    This emphasis on work is complemented by a range of programs designed to address the root causes of criminal behavior and provide inmates with opportunities for personal and professional development. These programs include:


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Alcoholics Group Therapy and Pharmacological Treatment of Drug Addiction: Recognizing that substance abuse is often a contributing factor to criminal activity, the prison offers targeted therapies to help inmates overcome addiction and develop healthier coping mechanisms.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Behavioral Therapy: This program assists inmates in identifying and modifying harmful behaviors, promoting positive change and reducing the risk of recidivism.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Workshop Safety Induction: Before inmates begin working, they undergo safety training to ensure they can perform their duties safely and responsibly.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Carpentry Apprenticeship and Kitchen Safety and Hygiene: These vocational programs provide inmates with marketable skills that can lead to employment opportunities after release.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Foundation Education Program and General Education Qualification: For inmates who lack basic literacy and numeracy skills, these programs provide foundational education, opening doors to further learning and employment.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Spiritual Guidance: Recognizing the importance of spiritual well-being, the prison offers spiritual guidance and support to inmates of all faiths.</li>


    </ul>


    Through this comprehensive approach, the Little Bird prison system strives to transform inmates'' lives, not simply punish them for their crimes. By providing opportunities for work, education, and personal growth, it aims to break the cycle of recidivism and prepare inmates for successful reentry into society.


    Mitchell explained that many incarcerated individuals, upon their release, were able to secure employment that would typically be inaccessible to them due to their criminal records. This was made possible by the support of program teachers or leaders within the prison system, who would often write letters of recommendation on their behalf. These letters could be instrumental in helping former inmates overcome the stigma associated with their past and gain access to jobs that were previously out of reach.


    One example that Mitchell highlighted was the wildfire fighting program at many Little Bird prisons. This program trained inmates to become makeshift wildland firefighters, providing them with valuable skills and experience. However, upon release, these individuals would typically be denied employment as wildland firefighters due to their criminal history. The letter of recommendation from their program leaders served as a "golden ticket," demonstrating their rehabilitation and potential, and opening doors that would otherwise remain closed.


    Mitchell and Sonata were tasked with guiding Jack, Sam, and Macaroni through the building and opening the appropriate doors for them. Although the building''s cameras were equipped with audio recording, Mitchell and Sonata were prohibited from speaking to Jack, Sam, or Macaroni.


    However, Jack and Sam, and occasionally even Macaroni, still managed to engage in playful banter with Mitchell and Sonata. They would jokingly reprimand them whenever they opened an incorrect door. This lighthearted behavior masked the underlying reality that Sam and Jack were not genuinely amicable with Sonata.


    The sole reason Sam and Jack consented to assist Sonata in locating Julia was due to Mitchell''s involvement. They reasoned that aiding in the search for Julia was preferable to becoming entangled in a federal investigation that appeared to be stagnant.


    In a daring maneuver, Jack found himself ambushed by an OpFor guard. The ensuing struggle was brief but brutal. Jack, with his extensive training and quick reflexes, swiftly gained the upper hand. He forced the guard to the ground, applying pressure to his eye with his thumb until the guard was incapacitated. With a swift and decisive motion, Jack silenced the guard with his combat knife, ensuring the mission''s secrecy remained intact.


    Simultaneously, Sam executed his own stealthy takedown. He had been observing an OpFor guard who was distracted, sitting at a desk. Seizing the opportunity, Sam delivered a powerful kick to the chair, propelling the guard''s face into the hard surface of the desk. The impact disoriented the guard, and Sam wasted no time in using his knife to swiftly and silently neutralize the threat.


    Unbeknownst to Jack and Sam, the entire ambush and Jack''s subsequent response had been captured by a CCTV camera. The footage was being monitored by both Mitchell and Sonata, who watched the events unfold.


    Macaroni quickly took out the enemy guard that was coming towards them by stabbing them repeatedly in the back before finishing them off with a stab to the neck.


    Mitchell and Sonata, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the control room''s monitors, expertly guided Jack, Sam, and Macaroni through the labyrinthine corridors of the enemy stronghold. The trio, their footsteps muffled by the thick silence of the night, stealthily navigated their way to the location of the prisoners.


    With a synchronized burst of coordinated action, they overwhelmed the guards and liberated the prisoners. The air was thick with tension as they led the freed captives back through the winding passageways, their hearts pounding in unison with the urgency of their escape.


    As they retraced their steps, they met up with Sonata and Mitchell, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern.


    The group pressed forward, their path illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the cracks in the ceiling. Reaching the water''s edge, they swiftly crossed, their breaths breathing in the cool night air.


    On the opposite bank, they wasted no time in loading the captured friendly combatants, now subdued and disarmed, into a waiting vehicle. The engine roared up, shattering the tranquility of the night, as they sped back towards their base of operations, leaving behind only the fading echoes of their daring rescue.


    ___________


    Base of Operations.


    Sonata, Mitchell, Jack, Sam, and Macaroni were all key players in making sure their rescued friends got to Mackenzie Rose for some much-needed medical attention. They pulled off the mission, and it should''ve been a time to chill and celebrate, but then Jack just disappeared without a word. Sonata was confused and wanted answers, so she went to Mackenzie Rose. Turns out, Jack was a Nihilist, which explained a lot about his behavior, but it also left Sonata with even more questions.


    Macaroni, always the one to connect the dots, thought Jack''s Nihilism reminded her of her granduncle Charlie. Charlie was a Nihilist who fought in the 82nd Airborne during World War II, then came back from Korea and, surprisingly, married a super religious woman in 1954. Macaroni always wondered how Charlie''s Nihilism and his wife''s strong faith worked out. She started to think about how Jack''s Nihilism might affect his life and relationships, maybe even causing some inner struggles and problems with others.


    Macaroni remembered something specific that showed her granduncle''s Nihilistic views. She found out from his journal that he predicted the Vietnam War way back in 1964. Charlie didn''t believe in the "Domino Theory," the idea that if one country fell to Communism, others would follow. He thought nobody really cared about that stuff.


    Charlie''s journal was pretty bleak about the war. He wrote about how American soldiers, both volunteers and draftees, would be sent to fight a pointless war in Vietnam. He said even if Vietnam fell to the Communists, it wouldn''t matter in the long run. The soldiers would come home with PTSD, their lives messed up. The messed-up part, Charlie wrote, was that they were fighting against poor farmers, many of whom didn''t even have shoes. His words showed the harsh truth of war and the disillusionment that came with it.


    Mitchell delved into the stark contrast between the experiences of their granduncle and older brothers, who fought in World War II, and those who served in Vietnam. The granduncle had participated in two major conflicts: World War II, the deadliest global war in history, and the Korean War, often referred to as "The Forgotten War" due to being overshadowed by the magnitude of World War II and the subsequent Vietnam War.


    Mitchell highlighted the generational gap in understanding Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The soldiers of World War II, including Charlie, Stanley, and their older brothers, were raised in an era where PTSD wasn''t fully recognized until 1980. Before that, what is now known as PTSD was often dismissed as "Battle Fatigue." The prevailing belief was that soldiers simply needed rest and, if necessary, sedation, to recover from the psychological impacts of combat.


    Mitchell emphasized the disparity in treatment between World War II veterans and those who returned from Vietnam. The World War II generation was greeted with parades and hailed as heroes, a stark contrast to the reception of Vietnam veterans. The latter returned to a nation divided, often facing hostility, a lack of benefits, and no welcoming parades. This lack of recognition and support exacerbated the challenges faced by Vietnam veterans grappling with the psychological aftermath of war, including PTSD.


    Macaoni recounted a story about his granduncle Charlie, highlighting his compassionate nature. During the war in France in 1944, Charlie''s response to a fellow soldier''s injury was described as heartwarming. Even amidst the chaos and bloodshed, with soldiers losing limbs, sight, and suffering severe facial injuries, Charlie would reportedly set aside his weapon to comfort the wounded. He would sit them down and offer a hug, a gesture that Mitchell noted was uncommon for men at that time, except perhaps between fathers and their children because men at the time viewed hugging as something intimate.


    This compassion, Mitchell explained, stemmed from the unique training and camaraderie within the Airborne units. These soldiers were volunteers who had undergone two years of rigorous training together. The men in the airborne knew they could rely on each other and handle themselves in high-pressure situations because they had volunteered for this demanding role. For soldiers like Stanley, who trained at Camp Tacoma, and Charlie, who trained at Fort Bragg, the men they fought alongside were often the same ones they had trained with. This shared experience fostered a deep sense of trust and dependability, crucial when parachuting into enemy territory, a novel and dangerous tactic at the time.


    Mitchell''s reasoning was that Charlie''s perspective was unique because he recognized the humanity in the Paratroopers he encountered. He understood that they weren''t simply soldiers, but individuals¡ªsons who had been compelled to fight due to an attack on their homeland. Their motivation wasn''t rooted in malice, but in patriotism and a desire for retribution; deep down, they longed for the comfort and safety of home.


    Macaroni further emphasized Charlie''s atypical viewpoint by highlighting that he didn''t perceive the Wehrmacht and Fallschirmj?gers as enemies, but as fellow humans. Charlie believed that under different circumstances, they could have been friends. He reserved his enmity for the SS, recognizing them as the true antagonists.


    Mitchell drew a parallel between Charlie''s perspective and that of many Little Birden soldiers during World War II. These soldiers also saw the Wehrmacht soldiers as individuals not unlike themselves; they were simply caught on opposing sides of a conflict, one fighting for freedom and the other for a dictatorship. However, there was a consensus among Little Birden soldiers that the SS, with their fanaticism and cruelty, were the true enemy.


    Mitchell even told Sonata that Jack''s nihilistic worldview was not merely a philosophical stance; it was a profound response to the trauma he had endured during the war. Witnessing the horrors inflicted upon child soldiers, whose innocence was violently removed as they were forced into the brutal machinery of conflict, had shattered his faith in humanity and any belief in an inherent meaning to life. The stark contrast between the inherent vulnerability of childhood and the monstrous cruelty of war left an enduring mark on his psyche, leading him to question the very foundations of morality and the purpose of existence. The war had revealed to him a world where innocence was not protected, where life could be extinguished meaninglessly, and where the darkness in humanity could overshadow any glimmer of hope.


    Mitchell, however, offered a contrasting perspective on the genesis of Jack''s nihilism. He argued that Jack''s upbringing in a developed country, with its relative affluence and insulation from the harsher realities of life, had inadvertently fostered a naive worldview. In developed nations, where basic necessities are readily available and a certain standard of living is taken for granted, individuals can remain unaware of the struggles and suffering endured by those in less fortunate regions of the world. This lack of awareness, Mitchell contended, created a distorted and privileged perspective, which ultimately contributed to Jack''s profound disillusionment when confronted with the unvarnished horrors of war. Jack''s sheltered life had not prepared him for the harsh truths of the world, and the sudden exposure to such brutality had shattered his illusions and led him to a nihilistic despair.


    Macaroni supported Mitchell''s argument by highlighting the stark disparities in living conditions and access to basic human rights across the globe. She emphasized that poverty was not merely a statistic but a lived reality for countless millions, and that civil liberties, often taken for granted in developed nations, were non-existent in many parts of the world. These vast differences in experiences and opportunities underscored the contrast between Jack''s nihilism, born out of privilege and a sheltered existence, and the realities faced by those who had known nothing but hardship and deprivation. While Jack''s nihilism stemmed from a loss of innocence and a shattered worldview, the nihilism of those born into poverty and oppression was rooted in the daily struggle for survival and the absence of hope for a better future.


    Sonata''s upbringing in a religious cult provided yet another lens through which to examine the origins of nihilism. The cult''s isolationist practices and indoctrination of children with archaic beliefs had fostered a distorted worldview that was divorced from reality. The emphasis on large families and mandatory military service perpetuated a cycle of control and conformity, while the suppression of individuality and critical thinking stifled any questioning of the cult''s doctrines. Sonata''s expulsion from the cult at a young age due to her bisexuality further highlighted the cult''s intolerance and rejection of those who deviated from their rigid norms. The cult''s oppressive environment and its rejection of her identity had left deep scars on Sonata''s psyche, contributing to a sense of alienation and a questioning of all she had been taught.


    Despite the cult''s pervasive negative influence on her life, Sonata still clung to cherished memories of her sister''s cooking, a poignant reminder of the human connection and warmth that even the most oppressive environments could not entirely extinguish. Her experiences illustrated the complex interplay of external influences, individual resilience, and the enduring power of human connection in shaping one''s worldview and sense of self. Even amidst the darkness of her past, Sonata found a glimmer of hope and meaning in the simple act of sharing a meal with her sister, a testament to the enduring power of love and human connection to transcend even the most oppressive circumstances.


    Macaroni''s upbringing instilled in her a deep appreciation for the value of resources. Her father consistently told her not to waste food, reminding her, "Think about all the hungry people out there who would be grateful for this!" So, Macaroni learned to eat everything, even vegetables and meats she did not prefer. She always favored cheeseburgers, meatloaf, and especially macaroni and cheese - hence her nickname. Her father''s words had taught her empathy and gratitude, and she carried those lessons with her throughout her life.


    Her cousin, Mitchell, further expanded her understanding of the world by explaining the difference between industrialized and pre-industrial societies. He explained that in many countries, farming is extensive and modern, so people can easily obtain food, entertainment, transportation, and money. They can go to the store, watch television, drive cars, and use bank cards. These conveniences, he explained, were the result of industrialization and technological advancements.


    However, Mitchell pointed out that many people still live in a pre-industrial farming era. They do not have cars, rely on animals like donkeys, do not use banks or credit cards, and their leisure activities are limited to hunting, fishing, or simple games. These differences, he emphasized, demonstrated how fortunate those in industrialized nations are and why it is important to value resources, just as Macaroni''s father had taught her. Mitchell''s explanations had opened her eyes to the vast disparities in living conditions and opportunities across the globe, and she realized how fortunate she was to live in a developed country.


    Sonata agreed with Mitchell''s perspective, adding her own insights from her experiences in the country of Little Bird. She explained that Little Bird had both organic and industrialized farming, which provided inexpensive and abundant food and convenience for the consumer. However, she also highlighted the importance of government policies and social structures in shaping people''s lives. In Little Bird, the government permitted people to bear arms, vote regardless of gender or wealth, and had programs for literacy, disaster relief, and agricultural subsidies. They also had an educational system that teaches practical skills and basic knowledge, preparing students for adulthood.


    Sonata emphasized that while people in developed countries enjoys many privileges, there were still people in the world who lacked basic education and literacy. Her experiences had taught her to appreciate the opportunities she had and to recognize the struggles of those who were less fortunate.


    Sonata, observing Macaroni fiddling with an ornate ring, inquired, "What''s that?"


    Macaroni proudly replied, "It''s a five-year anniversary gift from Lusty, marking our time as girlfriends."


    Continuing, Macaroni offered a description of Claire Johnson, characterizing her as a woman who refuses to tolerate nonsense. Claire, she explained, is someone who wouldn''t hesitate to fight if necessary, yet possesses a lovable and sweet nature. However, Macaroni cautioned, crossing Claire could prove dangerous.


    Macaroni also shared a piece of wisdom that her girlfriend Lusty, her cousin Mitchell, and his friend Dave often emphasized: "Leadership is about making big decisions in tough moments."


    Macaroni was recounting a story about Claire, where a cop who had once been an uptight police officer. The story involved a hostage situation where Claire''s company needed to access a specific area to use their deck gun against the hostage-taker. Two members of Claire''s company had already rescued a hostage through a window. To enable her company''s access, Claire had moved a police car that was blocking the way.


    This action resulted in the officer, whose car had been moved, filing a complaint against Claire. The charge was "Officer unbecoming," suggesting that Claire''s behavior was inappropriate for a police officer. However, this charge didn''t stick. The Empire Police Department, where the officer who filed the complaint worked, was inundated with 60,000 complaints against him. This overwhelming response stemmed from the tight-knit community where Claire was raised. In their eyes, an attack on one of their own was an attack on everyone, and they rallied to Claire''s defense.


    Macaroni continued her story, explaining how her girlfriend''s upbringing in a disadvantaged part of the city shaped her life. Entertainment was scarce; using a TV or radio was dangerous due to outdated wiring that posed a fire hazard. These circumstances fostered a deep respect for the fire department, which played a crucial role in the community.


    Claire, her girlfriend, had early memories of the fire department''s constant presence. The tenement building she grew up in was plagued by fires, and one of her most vivid memories was of a firefighter rescuing her from a smoke-filled apartment. This experience instilled in her a desire to join the fire department and give back to her community.


    Macaroni went on to describe how Claire''s perspective on the fire department differed from the norm. She saw them as more than just firefighters; they were responders to all kinds of emergencies. In a community where other city services were often lacking, the fire department filled the void. They responded to tenant-landlord disputes, water main breaks, electrical problems, childbirths, fights - anything and everything.


    People in the community knew that pulling the fire alarm box was a guaranteed way to get help, even if it wasn''t for a fire. The fire department was a lifeline, a symbol of hope in a neighborhood where hope was often in short supply.


    Sonata was about to interject, but Macaroni continued, explaining how her girlfriend, Claire, harbored a deep resentment towards the police department. The root of this disdain stemmed from their perceived sluggishness in responding to crimes within poorer neighborhoods. Macaroni elaborated, highlighting Claire''s personal experience growing up in Eastside, a poverty-stricken neighborhood. She recounted an incident where an armed robbery had occurred, and it took an agonizing four hours for the nearest patrol unit to arrive. Even more disheartening was the fact that it took two years for robbery detectives to even begin their investigation.


    Before Sonata could respond, Macaroni launched into a tirade about the city of Empire''s police force. She cited the statistics: 5,000 uniformed officers and 2,500 detectives, divided into three shifts to provide 24-hour coverage. In her view, this was more than sufficient manpower to adequately protect the entire city.


    To further illustrate her point, Macaroni relayed another incident involving a robbery-homicide. The Fire Department had been on the scene within four minutes, administering first aid and stabilizing the victim until an ambulance arrived. The police were summoned due to the severity of the crime, but as Macaroni bitterly noted, they never followed through with a proper investigation.


    Macaroni''s voice rose as she expressed her frustration, "The city has the money to hire more officers, more detectives! But no, they''d rather waste it on frivolous projects that nobody cares about!" Her words hung heavy in the air, a stark indictment of the city''s priorities and a reflection of the deep-seated distrust and disillusionment felt by many of its citizens.


    Macaroni went on to explain the disparity in police response across different socioeconomic areas of the city. In the affluent Highwood district, a robbery would elicit a massive response of 12 Adam units (patrol cars with two officers each), a supervisor, and a SWAT team. In contrast, the middle-class districts of Emerald Pastors and Riverview would receive a significantly smaller response of approximately 4 or 5 police cars.


    Macaroni then delved into the complexities of law enforcement in her girlfriend''s former district, where a considerable number of residents, both male and female, were ex-military. This presented a unique challenge due to the prevalence of incidents that could be classified as "homicide." However, these cases were often convoluted by the "Castle Doctrine," which grants individuals the right to use deadly force to protect their homes. This created a dilemma for the District Attorney''s office, as they were hesitant to file charges in situations where murder had been committed but the Castle Doctrine could be invoked as a defense.


    Macaroni, in a conversation with Sonata, relayed the sentiments of many who unfairly labeled the residents of Eastside, Westside, and Anderson as "Undesirables." Macaroni passionately defended these individuals, highlighting their significant contributions to society. They were the hardworking people who ensured the cities had electricity, running water, and functioning sewage systems. These were not the idle or undeserving; they were the backbone of the community, performing essential tasks that often went unnoticed.


    Macaroni spoke further about the truck drivers who traversed the highways of Little Bird. These drivers, Macaroni explained, spent a considerable amount of money to obtain their commercial driver''s licenses. They dedicated long hours to their jobs, driving for miles and miles, fueled by the necessity to earn a living. Their work was not glamorous; it involved fueling their rigs, grabbing meals at truck stops, and occasionally catching a few hours of sleep in roadside lounges before hitting the road again.


    Although truckers on Little Bird were not unionized, they were well compensated. Their high pay reflected the vital role they played in the economy. They transported goods across the land, ensuring that store shelves were stocked and that commerce continued to flow. The government recognized the importance of truckers and strived to keep as many as possible on the road.


    Macaroni distinguished between two types of truckers: owner-operators and company operators. Owner-operators owned their rigs and enjoyed the autonomy that came with being their own boss. However, they also bore the responsibility of covering all expenses associated with their business. Company operators, on the other hand, worked for trucking companies and operated vehicles owned by those companies.


    Macaroni''s words painted a picture of a society where every individual, regardless of their occupation, played a crucial role. The so-called "Undesirables" were, in fact, the unsung heroes who kept the wheels of society turning. Their hard work and dedication deserved recognition and respect, not scorn and dismissal.


    Sonata emphasized the vital role truckers play in the economy, highlighting that goods don''t move themselves. Grocery store shelves, for instance, need to be stocked by someone, and that ''someone'' is often a trucker hauling goods over long distances.


    She explained to Macaroni that many truckers in Little Bird operate in pairs, often couples - husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, or same-sex couples. These pairs implement a shift change system where one person drives for approximately 10 hours a day (not including stops for food or refueling). After 12 hours of being awake, their partner takes over and drives through the night, following the same pattern. This strategy allows them to maximize their earnings.


    With a rate of $1.06 per mile, and Little Bird federal law restricting truckers to a maximum of 14 hours of driving per day, truckers have found ways to legally circumvent this limitation. While the law prohibits a single driver from exceeding 14 hours of driving in a day, it doesn''t explicitly prevent a driver from switching with a friend or family member who also holds a Commercial Driver''s License (CDL).


    Macaroni confirmed this loophole, stating that the law focuses on individual driving time and doesn''t prevent someone from driving for 14 hours and then handing over the wheel to another qualified driver for another 14 hours. This practice allows trucking teams to cover more ground and earn more money while technically staying within the bounds of the law.


    ¡°If it¡¯s not a sore subject,¡± Macaroni she said, ¡°But were you apart of a cult?¡±


    Sonata continued her explanation, "Yes, I was involved in Little Bird. It was a real hassle, to be honest. The Almighty Believers there were a hardcore religious cult that completely separates itself from the rest of society. They followed The Unseen One with absolute devotion, and their entire lives were controlled by strict moral and social rules."


    She elaborated on their beliefs, "They rejected any symbols of nationalism, refused to take part in secular government, and only go to war if they believe it''s justified by their god. They had a doctrine that forces people to marry young and have lots of children. They didn¡¯t allow any outside influences or modern medical practices like blood transfusions."


    Sonata painted a picture of their restricted lifestyle, "Things like entertainment, pleasure, and personal freedom are basically nonexistent. They lived a really isolated and strict life."


    She then delved into their views on marriage and reproduction, "The Almighty Believers have these rigid rules about marriage and having children. They believed that if you conceive a child, you''re automatically married, and they absolutely despise surrogacy. They had a very traditional gender roles: men were expected to support their families financially but have to give half their income to the religion."


    Sonata concluded with their views on women and their dietary restrictions, "Women were expected to stay home and take care of the house, and if they do work, they also have to give half their earnings to the religion. They even had a strange dietary laws. They only ate fruits and vegetables for the first six months of the year and then only meat and pork for the other six months. It was part of their unique spiritual practice."


    Sonata''s past tense narrative stemmed from the dissolution of the cult she was once a part of. She expressed relief at its demise, attributing it to their failed revolt. The uprising was doomed from the start, as the cult members were ill-equipped, wielding outdated weaponry that was 135 years old or poorly maintained, jamming after each shot. Their arsenal was a hodgepodge of rusted rifles, antique pistols, and cobbled-together explosives that were more likely to harm the user than their intended target.


    They faced the formidable LBAR (Little Bird Army Rangers), clad in their protective olive drab Ranger armor and helmets with built-in gas masks and red lenses. The Rangers'' advanced weaponry and overwhelming support from tanks, Infantry Fighting Vehicles, attack helicopters, and fighter jets with napalm canisters, rotary cannons, and air-to-surface missiles sealed the cult''s fate. The LBAR were a force to be reckoned with - highly trained, disciplined, and equipped with the latest technology. Their movements were swift and coordinated, their aim precise and deadly.


    Sonata recounted her attempts to persuade her former comrades to lay down their arms, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. She had foreseen the inevitable consequences: death in battle, execution by firing squad, or life imprisonment in a maximum-security facility for treason. The majority of those she once called friends met their end by firing squad, their blind faith and misguided loyalty leading them to a tragic end.


    Despite the grim outcome, Sonata did not shed tears. She believed she had offered them a chance to surrender peacefully, which would likely result in imprisonment but eventual freedom. However, they chose to fight, only to surrender later in the battle or die on the battlefield. The stark contrast between a well-trained, professional army and untrained combatants with poor aim where they couldn¡¯t hit the broadside of a barn if it was next to them was evident. The cult members, fueled by fanaticism and false hope, were no match for the LBAR''s superior firepower and tactical expertise.


    The aftermath of the battle was a scene of devastation. The town laid in ruins, smoke rising from the wreckage. The ground was littered with the bodies of the fallen, their lives cut short by their own misguided beliefs. Sonata, standing amidst the chaos, felt a sense of emptiness. The people she once considered family were gone, their dreams shattered, their lives wasted. She knew that the cult''s demise was inevitable, but the cost of their rebellion was high.


    Sonata vividly recounted a conversation where she had informed her supposed friends and even her mother about the stark imbalance of power they faced. The Rangers had deployed their entire First Ranger Regiment, encompassing the formidable 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th Ranger Battalions, to encircle the town. The 1st Ranger Battalion spearheaded the assault, while the remaining battalions strategically cut off any escape routes. Sonata emphasized the overwhelming advantage the Rangers possessed in terms of sheer manpower. The 1st Battalion alone boasted 800 battle-hardened and expertly trained Rangers, supported by an arsenal of 12 Main Battle Tanks, 8 Self-Propelled Artillery, and 16 Infantry Fighting Vehicles.


    Macaroni interjected, pointing out that 16 IFVs couldn''t possibly transport 800 Rangers. Each IFV could only accommodate a single infantry squad, suggesting a maximum capacity of 160 squads. Sonata clarified that the remaining personnel were transported in APCs stationed outside the town. The APCs, equipped with .50 caliber HMGs, provided additional firepower, while the IFVs boasted an array of weaponry, including 30mm autocannons, AA Railguns, 7.62mm coaxial guns, AA Missile Systems, and Point Defense Systems.


    Furthermore, Sonata explained the Rangers'' organizational structure, which divided them into three distinct specializations: Rangers Riflemen, Rangers Engineers, and Ranger Snipers. The term "Rangers Riflemen," while potentially misleading due to the inclusion of female Rangers, accurately described their primary function of engaging the enemy and advancing. The Rangers Engineers fulfilled the crucial role of combat engineers, employing their skills to shape the battlefield and support the assault. Lastly, the Ranger Snipers, as their title suggested, specialized in long-range precision engagements, neutralizing key targets and providing overwatch.


    Sonata, in her recounting of the events, emphasized the vulnerability of the "Almighty Believers." She stated that the "Rangers Snipers" had a tragically easy time due to the Believers'' lack of tactical awareness. Many stood exposed in the open, making themselves clear targets, and even those who attempted to move did so in a predictable, straight line toward the snipers, neglecting basic cover and maneuver tactics. Sonata grimly added that the snipers'' use of the M1109 Sniper Rifle, with its distinctive smoke trail, further compounded the Believers'' disadvantage as their position was easily given away with every shot.


    Macaroni, with a hint of dark irony, chimed in to note the M1109''s reputation as the "mainstay of the Ranger''s sniper arsenal." She highlighted its unmatched range and accuracy, despite being a bolt-action rifle, implying that the Believers never stood a chance against such a weapon in the hands of skilled snipers.


    Sonata went on to commend the Rangers from the 1st Ranger Battalion for their professional and efficient tactics. She described how they moved swiftly and effectively from cover to cover, displayed deadly accuracy, and consistently supported their comrades with suppressing fire, blindfire, and grenade lobbing. She suggested that in terms of sheer deadliness, the Rangers were potentially only surpassed by the Airborne, though she implied that the Airborne might lack the Rangers'' finesse.


    Mitchell acknowledged the effectiveness of Airborne units, emphasizing their agility in moving between cover, proficiency in blindfire and grenade tactics, and their ability to provide accurate suppressing fire for their allies. However, he drew a distinction with the Rangers, highlighting their historical roots tracing back to frontiersmen who thrived in the wilderness. This upbringing, Mitchell argued, instilled in them a resilience and adaptability that set them apart.


    He explained that Rangers were traditionally recruited from these frontiersmen due to their inherent survival skills and intimate knowledge of the wilderness, making them ideal candidates for further specialized training. The harsh and unpredictable nature of their environment fostered the development of unconventional tactics, and they were granted a degree of flexibility when it came to adhering to formal army discipline.


    Mitchell noted that while the Rangers'' origins lay in scouting and raiding missions that demanded exceptional skills, their roles evolved during the World Wars. They were transformed into elite commandos and infantry units, tasked with spearheading operations and clearing objectives in advance of the main army''s arrival. This shift in responsibilities underscored their versatility and dependability in fulfilling critical missions.


    Macaroni and Mitchell found themselves engrossed in a conversation about the trucking industry. Mitchell, with his characteristic enthusiasm, shed light on the financial prospects of the job. He explained that truckers could earn a decent $14.84 per day, a sum that could accumulate into a substantial income over time. While this daily rate might not appear extraordinary at first glance, Mitchell emphasized that many truckers opted for additional shifts to bolster their earnings. He believed that after a year of dedicated work, truckers could earn enough to comfortably support a family.


    Expanding on the realities of the job, Mitchell also provided insight into the demanding nature of the work. Due to the vast expanse of the country, which spanned an impressive 1,974 miles, truckers often found themselves driving 939 miles in a single day. This demanding schedule translated to truckers spending approximately 13 hours and 44 minutes on the road each day. He acknowledged that pay could fluctuate within the industry, but on average, a trucker earned around $4 per hour for a 40-hour workweek. Mitchell pointed out that this hourly rate was significantly higher than the Little Bird minimum wage, and truckers typically worked four days a week, allowing them to enjoy three days off at home.


    Macaroni expressed her appreciation for this work schedule, stating that many people would value the balance of four workdays and three days off. She also noted that the specific days worked could vary, with some truckers working Monday through Thursday, while others might work Tuesday through Friday, Wednesday through Saturday, and so on. This flexibility, Macaroni mused, was a definite perk of the job. She admitted that she would have enjoyed the flexibility and benefits of being a trucker but expressed contentment with her current career as a firefighter. She explained that her work schedule followed a biweekly pattern, with shifts on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday during the first and third weeks of the month. The second and fourth weeks of the month were designated as her off weeks.


    Sonata, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, interjected with a note of clarification. She explained that her $4 per hour wage, after taxes were deducted, equated to roughly $36 per day. "Over a year," Sonata explained, "that comes out to about $7,500."


    Macaroni''s eyes widened in surprise. "$7,500? That''s significantly more than what most middle-class folks back on Little Bird make," she remarked, recalling the average yearly income of $5,500 back home.


    A flicker of injustice ignited within Macaroni. She couldn''t fathom how someone working a standard 40-hour week could earn so much more than she did as a firefighter, risking her life daily for a meager $3,120 annual salary. The disparity seemed unfair, and it bothered her.


    Mitchell, observing the conversation, gently reminded Macaroni that her income wasn''t solely derived from her firefighting job. "Don''t forget about your rental property," he interjected. "After deducting expenses for upkeep and maintenance, your total yearly income is closer to $3,901."


    Macaroni paused, considering Mitchell''s words. While her rental income did supplement her firefighter''s salary, the disparity in income between her and Sonata continued to gnaw at her. It raised questions about the fairness of income distribution and the value placed on different types of work. Was it just that someone working a relatively safe and comfortable job could earn so much more than someone who put their life on the line every day?


    Lost in her thoughts, Macaroni even temporarily forgot that she owned three bars of her own, which also supplemented her firefighter income. In reality, she made around $6,400 a year after taxes, placing her comfortably in the upper middle class. The oversight showm to how deeply the conversation had affected her. It had brought to light the complexities of income, the value of different professions, and the inherent inequalities that existed within the system.


    In a surprising turn of events, Sonata encouraged Macaroni to express discontent regarding her salary. Sonata pointed out that Macaroni''s workload, which involves working eight days each month, justifies a higher pay rate. This unexpected move by Sonata highlighted the perceived disparity between Macaroni''s compensation and the demands of her job.


    Macaroni, her voice laced with disbelief, questioned the group''s composure amidst the chaos. "How can you all be so calm? If someone took my girlfriend, I''d be a mess - hyperventilating, panicking, the works!"


    Her outburst was met with knowing smiles and a collective shrug. They reminded Macaroni of their extensive experience in high-pressure situations. Sonata, with her steely gaze and quiet confidence, was a former Special Forces Group operative. Mitchell, his demeanor calm and collected, had served in the Airborne, jumping into danger zones with the will wanting to fight. Jack, Mackenzie, and Sam, their stances steady and eyes alert, are Marines, forged in the crucible of combat. And Nighthawk, her  hands steady on the controls, is an Army Air Force helicopter pilot, accustomed to navigating perilous skies under enemy fire.


    Years of facing danger, both in the boardroom and on the battlefield, had honed their ability to remain calm in the face of adversity. They had confronted life-and-death situations, where panic could mean the difference between survival and disaster. Their training and experiences had instilled in them a sense of control, even when the world around them seemed to be falling apart.


    Macaroni, despite her time in the Navy, had never experienced the harsh realities of combat. Her closest encounters with danger had been during maintenance work on the Phalanx CIWS or the Mark 45 5-inch/54-caliber lightweight gun aboard the USS Ticonderoga. While these weapons were designed for combat, her role had been to ensure their operational readiness, not to employ them in the heat of battle. Even though she was an Fire Controlman.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The stark contrast between her experiences and the others was evident. While she had served her country with honor, her service had not exposed her to the visceral nature of combat. The fear, the adrenaline, the life-altering decisions - these were experiences that had shaped her friends, but had remained foreign to her.


    Sonata''s outward composure belied her inner turmoil. She confided in Macaroni, admitting, "I''m panicking on the inside, but I''m not showing it. Panicking won''t help; it won''t do any good."


    Cadenza, entering the scene, affirmed Sonata''s stance. "She''s absolutely right," Cadenza declared, her voice steady and reassuring. "Panicking won''t get us anywhere. The remaining soldiers we need to free won''t be rescued if we''re consumed by panic."


    Mitchell asked , "Where have you been, Cadenza?"


    "I was out exploring," Cadenza replied, a hint of excitement in her voice. "And I found some ''weird chips.''"


    Macaroni interjected, "Those are memory cards."


    Mitchell, Sam, Jack, Mackenzie, Nighthawk, and Sonata exchanged puzzled glances. The term "memory card" was foreign to them.


    Macaroni, realizing their confusion, offered an explanation. "Think of them like floppy disks," she suggested, hoping the analogy would bridge the technological gap.


    The team opted to utilize a machine where the memory cards posed a risk due to a multitude of reasons. The conversations among the OpFor soldiers were direct and pragmatic, revolving around the acquisition of resources, exploitation of markets, and other topics typically discussed in corporate boardrooms. However, their discussions centered on the production of illegal narcotics and involvement in illicit markets. They spoke about matters such as high addiction rates and mortality in a dispassionate, businesslike manner.


    Upon hearing this, Mitchell expressed a strong preference for returning to his previous role as a police officer, where he dealt with domestic disputes regularly. He recounted numerous instances where he had to mediate conflicts arising from infidelity within relationships, often where one partner had cheated with a close friend or relative. He described how the offending partner and their accomplice would often attempt to downplay the incident, characterizing it as a "minor mistake," and would seek reconciliation, despite the irreparable damage caused to the relationship and the betrayed partner''s trust.


    Mitchell was about to delve deeper into his experiences, but Macaroni interjected, eager to share her own perspective. However, Mitchell continued, sharing a specific anecdote from a recent shift he had worked with his partner, Starlight. They had responded to a call where a man had discovered his fianc¨¦e had slept with his close friend. The man, understandably enraged and hurt, had evicted both his fianc¨¦e and friend from his residence. However, the fianc¨¦e and friend, displaying a shocking lack of remorse, were now demanding an apology from the man. Mitchell expressed his disbelief, highlighting the audacity of their demand, especially considering the fianc¨¦e''s father had subtly threatened the man through his professional connections. Mitchell emphasized that such actions constituted a threat and that if the man''s boss were to retaliate against him at work due to these threats, he would have grounds for a lawsuit based on retaliatory action.


    In the quaint town of Dilimore, where news traveled faster than wildfire, residents Sonata and Mitchell found themselves embroiled in a discussion about the downsides of small-town living. The rapid dissemination of information, often distorted and exaggerated through gossip and speculation, was a primary concern. They both agreed that while close-knit communities had their benefits, the lack of privacy and the constant scrutiny could be suffocating.


    Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Mitchell''s partner, Starlight, who had just mediated a dispute between a pregnant woman and the alleged father of her unborn child. The situation was fraught with tension and animosity. Despite a paternity test definitively proving that the man was not the father, the woman, fueled by anger, denial, and possibly a sense of misplaced entitlement, refused to accept the results. Her feminist friend further escalated the situation, accusing the man of shirking his responsibilities and perpetuating patriarchal norms, even though the evidence clearly showed he had no biological connection to the child.


    The dispute eventually landed in court, where the judge, after careful consideration of the evidence, including the conclusive paternity test, ruled that the man had no legal obligation to support the child. This decision, however, was met with vehement opposition from the woman''s feminist friend. She accused the judge of bias, claiming that the legal system was inherently patriarchal and designed to oppress women, disregarding the fact that the ruling was based on concrete evidence and not on any gender bias.


    The judge, unfazed by the accusations, countered that such inflammatory rhetoric only served to fuel distrust of women and undermine the progress they had made in achieving equality. He reminded her that the legal system was based on evidence and facts, not personal beliefs or ideologies, and that the ruling was in accordance with the law and the presented evidence.


    The incident served as a stark reminder of the challenges of small-town life, where gossip and misinformation could quickly escalate into conflict and personal disputes could become public spectacles. It also highlighted the importance of evidence-based decision-making and respect for legal rulings, even when they contradicted personal beliefs or challenged prevailing social narratives. The feminist friend''s refusal to accept the court''s decision and her insistence on blaming the man, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, underscored the dangers of ideological extremism and the potential for it to distort perceptions of reality and hinder justice.


    Mitchell, reflecting on the situation, shared his perspective, stating that he had worked with many women in the past and had no issue working with females. He emphasized that his Commanding Officer was a woman, and that she, like many other professional women he knew, focused on their work and didn''t create unnecessary drama or conflict. He commended the women he worked with for their professionalism and dedication, and contrasted them with the feminist friend in the paternity case, who seemed to prioritize her ideology over reason and evidence.


    Mitchell even shared that the judge in the paternity case had remarked on the progressive nature of their country, Little Bird, which in its 305 years of existence had achieved gender equality and had seen multiple female leaders, including two female Presidents and numerous female mayors.


    Macaroni, listening intently, was about to offer her opinion, but paused as she reflected on the cultural differences between her home country, the United States, and Little Bird. She remembered learning about the history of Little Bird and how, since its founding, Native Little Birdens had a significant say in the government. She recalled stories of female warriors and chieftains among the Native tribes, and realized that gender equality had deep roots in Little Bird''s culture.


    She also remembered how her grandmother, while having a job, had been held back by the glass ceiling in the United States, a problem that didn''t seem to exist in Little Bird. She recalled reading about how after the First World War, during the Great Depression, many jobs in Little Bird were vacant due to men either not returning from the war or being too injured to work. Women had stepped up and taken those jobs, defying traditional gender roles out of necessity. She also remembered how, despite the country''s chivalrous nature, Little Bird had recognized the need for women to work and contribute to society, especially during times of hardship.


    Macaroni inquired why the Silent Serpents couldn''t simply handle the rescue mission themselves. She explained that the two Battalions, the 8th and 11th, were divided into multiple companies, each with its own specialized responsibilities. These roles included:


    <ol>


    <ol>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Deep Ground Surveillance or Long Range Reconnaissance: These units conduct patrols in small groups, often far behind enemy lines, remaining undetected while gathering intelligence and potentially directing air or artillery strikes. Their focus is on stealth and observation, not direct combat.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Direct Action: These units specialize in short-duration strikes and offensive actions in hostile or sensitive environments. They possess specialized skills to seize, destroy, or capture targets, using precise force to achieve specific objectives.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Unconventional Warfare: These units engage in long-duration operations, often working with indigenous or surrogate forces. This includes guerrilla warfare, covert operations, and activities like subversion, sabotage, and intelligence gathering.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Counter-Terrorism Operations: These units respond to terrorist threats and acts, both real and potential, using specialized tactics and strategies to neutralize threats and protect civilians.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Counter-Contraband Operations: These units focus on stopping the smuggling and trafficking of illegal goods, working to intercept and seize contraband and apprehend those responsible.</li>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Personnel and Special Equipment Recovery/Capture: These units specialize in recovering friendly personnel from combat zones, providing medical treatment if necessary, and capturing high-value individuals or equipment.</li>


    </ol>


    </ol>


    <ul>


    <li>Skyward Strikes: Specialists who uses a jet pack to bypass staircases, ramps, and other obstacles by flying directly to their destination and to navigate challenging environments and reach high vantage points. They are experts in vertical mobility, making them invaluable for missions that require quick and efficient access to elevated positions.</li>


    </ul>


    Given these specialized roles, Macaroni argued that the two companies responsible for "Personnel and Special Equipment Recovery/Capture" should have been dispatched to rescue their comrades. However, Cadenza countered that such rescue operations require extensive planning and preparation. Unfortunately, the war department seemed unwilling to invest the time and resources needed, essentially writing off the mission and abandoning the soldiers to their fate.


    Cadenza explained that This bureaucratic indifference was why she and their team were there. They were taking on the responsibility that the military had shirked, risking their own lives to rescue their fellow soldiers because it was the right thing to do.


    Sonata Jackson sat with group folded, her expression composed, but her eyes sharp. Beside her, Cadenza and Macaroni waited with similar poise, though the tension in the air was palpable. Across from them, Mitchell held their collective gaze, his stance unwavering.


    He didn¡¯t even let them ask the question.


    ¡°No.¡± His voice was clipped, cutting through the silence like a blade.


    Sonata raised an eyebrow. She wasn¡¯t surprised. She¡¯d expected resistance, but not outright dismissal before a conversation had even begun.


    Mitchell exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ¡°Look,¡± he started, ¡°my mother-in-law is a spook. She¡¯s got influence, sure, but the LBIAOSA¡ª¡± he emphasized the acronym, making it clear he wasn¡¯t talking about some run-of-the-mill agency, ¡°¡ªhas zero authority over military operations.¡±


    There was a quiet defiance in his tone. Mitchell wasn¡¯t one to back down easily, but Sonata had learned that his defiance wasn¡¯t always a hard refusal¡ªit was often a prelude to negotiation.


    ¡°That being said,¡± he continued, ¡°Star can get us untraceable weapons and provisions. If we¡¯re caught, captured, or killed, the government of Little Bird gets plausible deniability. We¡¯re ghosts.¡±


    Sonata exchanged glances with Cadenza and Macaroni. This wasn¡¯t unexpected, but it made things clear¡ªthis mission was off the books, with no safety net.


    Mitchell leaned back, crossing his arms as he shifted the discussion. ¡°The Little Bird military has been playing this game for a long time. They¡¯ve got a history of using soldiers from the same backgrounds as their enemies¡ªGermans against Germans in both World Wars, Italians against Italians in World War II. Hell, during the Battle of the Bulge, Skorzeny¡¯s men pulled the same trick.¡±


    Macaroni scoffed, arms crossed. ¡°Wearing the enemy¡¯s uniform? That¡¯s a war crime.¡±


    Mitchell didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t effective.¡±


    Macaroni shook her head, recalling historical context. ¡°Skorzeny¡¯s commandos tried it, dressed in captured Allied uniforms, using stolen jeeps. They were supposed to seize the Meuse bridges, but logistics ruined the plan. It didn¡¯t work.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°True. But language skills? That¡¯s different. Having soldiers who can speak like the locals¡ªwho can pass as one of them? That¡¯s a weapon in itself.¡±


    Sonata leaned forward, her mind already piecing things together. ¡°Meaning?¡±


    ¡°Meaning if we¡¯ve got the right people, they can gather intel, blend in, extract information from civilians or prisoners. Even captured allies are useful¡ªpeople under stress revert to their native language. We listen, we learn.¡±


    Silence settled for a moment. Then Sonata asked the real question. ¡°Could your mother-in-law help us?¡±


    Mitchell hesitated. ¡°I¡¯d ask, but favors like this aren¡¯t free.¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°Marrying Star¡¯s only kid was already a pretty big favor on your part, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Mitchell gave her a dry look but didn¡¯t argue. Sonata knew there was truth in Macaroni¡¯s words¡ªMitchell¡¯s marriage to Cadence gave him a direct line to power. But even with family ties, Star wouldn¡¯t just hand over resources without a price.


    More than that, their mission was unsanctioned. No official backing. That meant scrounging for supplies, keeping everything untraceable, and avoiding any moves that would expose them. Asking Star for help could make things easier¡ªor more complicated.


    Mitchell, ever the pragmatist, brushed past the concerns and refocused on logistics. ¡°Weapons, gear, whatever we need¡ªI can get it. Star¡¯s got connections.¡±


    A collective exhale followed. It was one less thing to worry about, but Mitchell wasn¡¯t done.


    ¡°But,¡± he added, voice firm, ¡°don¡¯t get stupid. This isn¡¯t a blank check. No one¡¯s funding your James Bond fantasies. No jet-powered sports cars, no flamethrowers. If we need it, we pay for it.¡±


    His gaze swept across the room, making sure the message landed. It did.


    The weight of the conversation settled, but Mitchell, ever unpredictable, suddenly shifted gears.


    ¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me,¡± he announced, ¡°I need to find a breakfast burrito.¡±


    Sonata blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    Mitchell, already halfway to the door, didn¡¯t break stride. ¡°Breakfast burritos. Best thing for law enforcement. Quick, convenient, better than a donut. Unless they¡¯re the messy kind¡ªthose are a problem.¡±


    Cadenza sighed, Macaroni stifled a laugh, and Sonata just shook her head. Only Mitchell could pivot from espionage to food in a heartbeat.


    Then, as if remembering something, he turned back. ¡°Island Patrol¡¯s uniforms are a mess, by the way. Light blue shirts? Show stains way too easily. City cops have the right idea¡ªdark blue looks more professional.¡±


    Sonata wasn¡¯t sure if she should be impressed or exasperated.


    Then, as abruptly as he had derailed the conversation, Mitchell pulled out his phone. The room quieted, tension creeping back in as he made the call.


    Star.


    Sonata had always assumed ¡°Star¡± was a codename, something fitting for a high-ranking LBIAOSA operative. But no, that was just her real name. And despite her quirks, she was a powerful ally¡ªif she chose to be.


    Sonata watched as Mitchell spoke in low tones, the conversation short but efficient. When he returned, his expression was unreadable.


    ¡°She¡¯s got a few places we can check.¡±


    Sonata knew better than to feel reassured just yet. Star¡¯s help came with strings. What those strings were, they¡¯d soon find out.


    Macaroni figured now was as good a time as any for a little humor. With the tension in the room thick enough to cut, she leaned back and smirked.


    "You know," she began, "my stepbrother got himself tangled up in an anti-establishment group back in December 2010. Thought he was some kind of revolutionary."


    Mitchell raised an eyebrow, but Macaroni wasn¡¯t finished.


    "By January 2011, he was in a full-blown protest," she continued. "Problem was, that ''protest'' turned into a riot real quick. Cops moved in, things got messy, and guess who had to patch him up before they hauled his sorry ass away?"


    She jabbed a thumb toward herself.


    "I got him stitched up, made sure he wouldn¡¯t bleed out, and let the cops take him. And you know what the little idiot had the nerve to ask me?"


    She paused for dramatic effect.


    "''So, uh¡­ when are you coming down to the precinct to bail me out?''"


    Macaroni rolled her eyes. "Like I had time to play hero for some wannabe anarchist."


    Sonata smirked, while Cadenza shook her head, half-exasperated, half-amused.


    Mitchell, ever practical, asked, "What was he even protesting? War? Government corruption? Something halfway meaningful?"


    Macaroni snorted. "Oh, please. Nothing that noble."


    She leaned forward, lowering her voice as if revealing some grand secret.


    "You wanna know why he joined an anti-establishment group?"


    A beat of silence.


    "Because he was failing university."


    Cadenza actually laughed. "You¡¯re kidding."


    Macaroni held up a hand. "I swear. Not some ideological stance. Not some deep moral outrage. He just figured that if the whole system collapsed, maybe nobody would care about his failing grades anymore."


    Mitchell exhaled, shaking his head. "That¡¯s next-level stupid."


    "Yup," Macaroni agreed. "And the best part? He still flunked out. Turns out, being an ''enemy of the state'' doesn¡¯t get you extra credit."


    Macaroni shook her head, letting out a short laugh as she continued.


    "I even warned him," she said, "that the cops in Little Bird aren¡¯t like the ones back in the States. Not even close. Over here, a lot of them carry riot clubs made from the same wood they use for baseball bats¡ªsolid, unforgiving. And the ones that don¡¯t? They¡¯ve got those side-handle polycarbonate batons, and trust me, those things hurt just as much."


    She leaned back, crossing her arms. "I told him straight up¡ªthere was a damn good chance he was either gonna get cracked over the head with a truncheon or have a police dog take a bite out of him. And, if he was really lucky, maybe he¡¯d get sprayed against a wall by a firehose."


    Sonata winced. "They still use firehoses?"


    Macaroni nodded. "Oh yeah. And considering it was the dead of winter, that would¡¯ve been the worst possible way to learn about hypothermia." She smirked. "Lucky for him, they didn¡¯t break out the hoses that day."


    Mitchell scoffed. "That idiot wouldn¡¯t have lasted five minutes in a real riot."


    "Oh, he barely lasted thirty seconds in this one," Macaroni said, shaking her head. "And you know what he told me while he was sitting there, bruised and handcuffed? That his mom would¡¯ve bailed him out if I wouldn¡¯t."


    She rolled her eyes, then pulled out her phone for emphasis. "So, naturally, I put that theory to the test."


    "You called her?" Sonata asked, intrigued.


    "Yep. Phoned up Jake¡¯s mother right then and there," Macaroni confirmed. "Told her her darling boy was in lockup and asked if she wanted to come to the rescue."


    Mitchell let out a low chuckle. "And?"


    Macaroni grinned. "She didn¡¯t even hesitate. Just sighed and said, ''I¡¯m done bailing that boy out. He can rot in there for all I care.''"


    Cadenza let out a short laugh. "Ouch."


    "Right?" Macaroni said, shaking her head. "Dude thought he had a safety net. Turns out, even his own mother had limits."


    Sonata backtracked, her brow furrowing. "Wait, they still use firehoses in riots?"


    Macaroni smirked. "Oh, absolutely. And trust me, if it were up to some people, they¡¯d be using worse." She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "I know a firefighter¡ªgoes by ¡®Dynamite.¡¯ That¡¯s not just some nickname, either. Her real name¡¯s Madeline, but everyone calls her that because she was a Marine combat engineer before she switched to firefighting."


    Cadenza tilted her head. "Wait¡ªcombat engineer? So, explosives?"


    "Exactly," Macaroni confirmed. "She knows her way around demolitions. But here¡¯s the kicker¡ªDynamite thinks firehoses are too soft."


    Mitchell raised an eyebrow. "Too soft?"


    Macaroni nodded. "Oh yeah. According to her, if riots get too out of hand, the military should roll out those old armored flamethrowers¡ªthe ones that can fire napalm for thirty-two seconds straight and hit targets over five hundred feet away."


    A silence hung in the air before Mitchell let out a low whistle. "Damn. Remind me never to piss off Dynamite."


    Sonata shook her head. "That¡¯s a bit much, don¡¯t you think?"


    Macaroni shrugged. "She¡¯s got strong opinions. Then again, so does everyone in my family." She sighed, shifting in her seat. "Not that Jake had anyone willing to back him up when he got himself arrested."


    Mitchell glanced up. "No one?"


    "Not even Alex," Macaroni said, shaking her head. "And that¡¯s Jake¡¯s own stepbrother. He straight-up refused to help."


    Cadenza raised an eyebrow. "Harsh."


    "Not really," Macaroni countered. "Even my dad warned Jake not to go through with it. Told him straight to his face¡ª''If you get caught, you¡¯re gonna face the consequences.''" She let out a humorless chuckle. "And, of course, Jake being Jake, he ignored the warning."


    Mitchell leaned back. "And now?"


    Macaroni¡¯s expression darkened. "Well, last time I visited him, he wasn¡¯t in county lockup anymore. He¡¯s in a max-security prison now."


    Sonata frowned. "How¡¯s he holding up?"


    Macaroni exhaled. "Not great. Told me he¡¯s in a terrible situation." She glanced at Mitchell before continuing. "So, you know what I told him?"


    Mitchell smirked. "Something uplifting, I¡¯m sure."


    Macaroni gave him a dry look. "I told him that our grandfather, granduncles, and uncles all fought in the deadliest war in human history. And in the later stages of that war, they came across concentration camps. They saw things that can¡¯t be unseen. They heard from their higher-ups about what the Soviets found¡ªthe extermination camps."


    She crossed her arms. "So, I told Jake straight-up¡ªhe thinks he¡¯s in a bad place? He¡¯s not. Millions of others in World War II were in places far, far worse. What he¡¯s dealing with? It¡¯s nothing compared to that."


    A heavy silence followed.


    Cadenza finally spoke. "And how did he take that?"


    Macaroni shrugged. "Didn¡¯t have much to say after that. Guess reality finally hit him."


    Mitchell leaned back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. ¡°You know, my grandfather¡ªyour great-grandfather¡ªhis division liberated two of those camps,¡± he said, his voice carrying a rare weight.


    Macaroni blinked, taken aback for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve ever mentioned that before.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Yeah, well, it¡¯s not something that comes up in casual conversation.¡± He exhaled sharply before continuing. ¡°That man fought in both world wars. Lived through the trenches of the First. Survived a gas attack. And yet, for all the horrors he saw¡ªartillery tearing men apart, bayonet fights in no-man¡¯s-land, bodies rotting in the mud¡ªnothing prepared him for what he saw in those camps.¡±


    Macaroni¡¯s face hardened. Eight years of combat experience across two wars, and still, the sheer inhumanity of what he witnessed had shaken him.


    Mitchell¡¯s gaze turned distant for a moment before he shifted to another family story. ¡°And then there was Uncle Charlie,¡± he said, shaking his head with a knowing smirk. ¡°Now, Charlie? He was a whole different breed.¡±


    Macaroni let out a short laugh. ¡°Fearless, professional, and completely nonchalant about just about everything.¡±


    Mitchell chuckled. ¡°Yeah. You ever hear the guys in his unit talk about him? They said he always had either a ¡®creepy stare¡¯ or a ¡®mischievous smirk.¡¯ Between Operation Avalanche and Overlord, he¡¯d just¡­ accepted the fact that he was dead.¡±


    Sonata frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Macaroni leaned forward, her tone matter-of-fact. ¡°Charlie was reflective. Self-aware. He knew the risks. And instead of fearing them, he just embraced them. No hesitation, no second-guessing.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°He was reckless, indifferent to violence¡ªhell, he had a nihilistic attitude about death itself. Maybe even a little bit of a sadistic streak, if we¡¯re being honest.¡±


    Cadenza raised an eyebrow. ¡°So¡­ a sociopath?¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°A functioning one, at least.¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°But even he¡ªCharlie, the guy who could jump out of a plane under enemy fire without flinching¡ªwas shaken in ¡®45 when the Allies and Soviets started liberating those camps.¡±


    The room fell silent.


    Macaroni exhaled. ¡°So if someone like Charlie¡ªwho treated war like it was just another job¡ªwas shaken by what he saw? Then that tells you just how bad it really was.¡±


    Macaroni leaned forward, her fingers drumming on the table. ¡°Alright, so where else could Julia be hiding?¡±


    Mitchell exhaled, rubbing his temple. ¡°There are three possible locations.¡±


    Macaroni nodded but then frowned. ¡°What do they even want with Julia? She¡¯s just an NCO in the Special Forces. She¡¯s not exactly high value like¡ª¡± She gestured toward Cadenza. ¡°Like Lieutenant Commander over here.¡±


    Cadenza gave a small shrug, but her sharp gaze remained focused. Sonata, arms crossed, weighed in. ¡°She¡¯s not an officer, sure, but that doesn¡¯t mean she doesn¡¯t know something useful. It depends on what kind of mission she was on before she went missing. Maybe she saw something she shouldn¡¯t have, or maybe she¡¯s leverage.¡±


    Jack, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up. ¡°You think they¡¯re using torture to get information out of her?¡±


    Mitchell scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°They¡¯ve done studies. Torture doesn¡¯t work. Makes sense, too. If someone¡¯s beating the hell out of me, I¡¯m not gonna do them any favors. I¡¯ll say whatever gets them to stop, even if it¡¯s all bullshit.¡± He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. ¡°That being said, just because it doesn¡¯t work doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s disappeared. The practice never really vanished¡ªit just evolved.¡±


    Sonata glanced at Mitchell. ¡°Alright, so where could they be holding Julia?¡±


    Mitchell exhaled, running a hand through his hair. ¡°According to Star, back in the mid-2000s, the Little Bird Army, Marines, and Air Force flew drones all over this country. Between 2005 and 2009, they mapped out possible locations that had been used to hold prisoners throughout Salaqueras'' history.¡±


    Sonata narrowed her eyes. ¡°And?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°And none of these places are exactly easy to waltz into. A lot of them were designed to withstand long sieges. Fortifications built centuries ago¡ªlong before rockets, missiles, or gunpowder. Probably even before trebuchets.¡±


    Macaroni scoffed. ¡°Great. So we¡¯re dealing with ancient castles?¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Think less ¡®fairy tale castle¡¯ and more ¡®fortress meant to hold prisoners indefinitely.¡¯¡±


    Jack crossed his arms. ¡°So we call for support, right? Get the Little Bird military to back us up?¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s smirk vanished. ¡°Yeah, about that¡ªno can do. We¡¯re not even supposed to be here.¡±


    Sonata sighed. ¡°We¡¯re here illegally Jack.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°We can¡¯t just ring up the War Department and ask them to send a carrier strike group off the coast of Salaqueras. No jet squadron loaded with anti-radiation missiles to take out enemy comms, no laser-guided bombs, no cluster munitions, no napalm for close air support.¡± He leaned forward, voice dropping slightly. ¡°Hell, we can¡¯t even request supplies. Not because of plausible deniability¡ªthough that¡¯s a nice bonus¡ªbut because the War Department has written this mission off.¡±


    Macaroni frowned. ¡°Written off?¡±


    Mitchell nodded grimly. ¡°No search-and-rescue operation. To them, Julia and anyone else captured are already dead. The higher-ups in the Little Bird Army have decided they¡¯re not worth the risk.¡±


    A heavy silence followed. The weight of their situation settled over them like a suffocating fog.


    Cadenza, who had been quiet for most of the discussion, suddenly scoffed. ¡°And they wonder why I told my father off.¡±


    Cadenza¡¯s jaw tightened, but she didn¡¯t elaborate. She didn¡¯t need to. It was clear¡ªshe had already burned bridges over this mission.


    Mitchell leaned forward, tapping a finger against the map spread out on the table. ¡°We should check out the other fort. Not Fort Squalablaum.¡±


    Sonata raised an eyebrow. ¡°Okay, but before we move on¡ªwho the hell named a fort ¡®Squalablaum¡¯?¡± She shook her head, exasperated. ¡°Back in Little Bird, forts actually have meaningful names. They¡¯re named after war heroes, Native Little Birden gods and goddesses, or something tied to the local geography.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Yeah, well, Salaqueras doesn¡¯t seem to have the same system.¡±


    Macaroni leaned back, folding her arms. ¡°Seriously, though. ¡®Squalablaum¡¯ sounds like someone sneezed while trying to name it.¡±


    Jack chuckled. ¡°Or a toddler banging on a keyboard.¡±


    Sonata huffed. ¡°Meanwhile, back home, names actually make sense. Take Fort Highcrest, for example¡ªthe Little Bird Army Airborne Training Center. It¡¯s named after, you know, an actual crest of a mountain.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Exactly. And trainees don¡¯t just stare at that mountain¡ªthey run up it. Four miles up, four miles back, carrying full gear.¡±


    Macaroni winced. ¡°Brutal.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°It separates the weak from the strong.¡±


    Jack snorted. ¡°Or just breaks everyone¡¯s knees.¡±


    Sonata sighed. ¡°Alright, back on track. If we¡¯re not heading to Fort Squalablaum, then where?¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s smirk faded as he turned serious again. ¡°There¡¯s another site Star flagged. Older than Squalablaum, but still in use. It¡¯s a fortress, built to last. If they¡¯re holding Julia anywhere, it could be there.¡±


    Mitchell dragged his finger across the map, stopping at a remote location nestled between jagged hills and dense forest. ¡°Fort Varasque,¡± he said. ¡°Older than Squalablaum. Pre-gunpowder, reinforced over the centuries. It was originally designed to withstand long sieges, and it¡¯s still being used¡ªwhether officially or not.¡±


    Sonata studied the map. ¡°If it¡¯s that old, what are the odds they¡¯ve upgraded it with modern defenses?¡±


    Mitchell exhaled. ¡°High. Satellites show structural reinforcements, guard posts, possible electronic surveillance. The real problem? Accessibility. Only a few roads lead to it, and they¡¯re all choke points. We¡¯d be funneled in like rats.¡±


    Macaroni frowned. ¡°That¡¯s assuming we use the roads. There¡¯s always the wilderness.¡±


    Jack leaned in, scanning the terrain. ¡°Dense forest to the north, rocky outcrops to the east¡­ Maybe a hike is our best bet. Harder to track us.¡±


    Cadenza, quiet until now, finally spoke. ¡°Or we use deception.¡±


    All eyes turned to her.


    Cadenza tapped the map thoughtfully. ¡°The enemy expects infiltrators to come in quiet, sneaking through the trees. They won¡¯t expect something louder¡ªa distraction, a bait. We give them something to focus on while the real team moves in another way.¡±


    Mitchell nodded slowly. ¡°Diversionary tactics. It could work, but it depends on what we have to work with.¡±


    Sonata crossed her arms. ¡°We¡¯re short on manpower, supplies, and firepower. Any kind of distraction needs to be something we can control, or else we just get caught up in the chaos.¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°Well, if we¡¯re going loud, why not make it spectacular? Maybe steal a truck, cause a nice, messy roadblock. Draw the guards out, then slip in while they¡¯re dealing with the mess.¡±


    Mitchell gave her a flat look. ¡°You just want to steal a truck.¡±


    Macaroni shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m a woman of simple pleasures.¡±


    Cadenza rolled her eyes but refocused. ¡°No matter what, we need intel. We¡¯re working with assumptions. If we move on Fort Varasque, we need eyes on the ground first.¡±


    Jack nodded. ¡°Agreed. So, recon first. Figure out security, entry points, weak spots. Then we plan our move.¡±


    Mitchell stood, stretching his shoulders. ¡°Alright. We¡¯ve got a target. Now we figure out how to break in.¡±


    A silence fell over them, heavy with the weight of what was to come. Fort Varasque wasn¡¯t just another obstacle¡ªit was a fortress, and inside, Julia might be waiting.


    Or worse, she might not be waiting at all.


    Macaroni leaned back, tapping her fingers against the table. ¡°Look, if we¡¯re talking about who¡¯s trained for this kind of op, Mitchell, Jack, Sam, and maybe even Mackenzie Rose all have the skills.¡±


    She gestured toward Mitchell. ¡°Paratrooper. Little Bird Army Airborne doesn¡¯t just train for drops¡ªthey train for fast strikes, commando-style raids, and deep-insertion missions behind enemy lines.¡±


    Jack and Sam exchanged looks as Macaroni turned to them. ¡°Then we¡¯ve got you two¡ªMarine Commandos. Not only are you trained in amphibious operations, but also in direct action, raiding, and special operations. You¡¯re used to moving fast, hitting hard, and getting out before the enemy even knows what happened.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the part where we leave a mess behind.¡±


    Macaroni rolled her eyes before continuing. ¡°And Mackenzie Rose¡ªif she¡¯s with us¡ªshe¡¯s a Marine Combat Medic. Which means she probably got certified in more than just patching up wounds. Combat medics in specialized units usually get cross-trained in survival, infiltration, and even close-quarters combat.¡±


    She then turned to Sonata. ¡°And of course, we¡¯ve got you. Former Special Forces. That means special operations, counterterrorism, high-risk extractions¡ªthis kind of thing is second nature to you.¡±


    Sonata gave a small nod, but Macaroni wasn¡¯t done.


    ¡°As for me,¡± she said, with a dramatic sigh, ¡°I was Navy. Fire Controlman. Which means I know how to make things explode.¡±


    Jack smirked. ¡°That explains a lot.¡±


    Macaroni ignored him. ¡°And Cadenza? Well, she¡¯s a whole different story. Not just highly trained¡ªshe¡¯s biologically enhanced, ridiculously skilled, and, let¡¯s be real, an absolute super-soldier.¡±


    Mitchell exhaled, nodding. ¡°Yeah. If anyone¡¯s walking out of this in one piece no matter what, it¡¯s her.¡±


    Cadenza rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m still human. I can bleed.¡±


    Macaroni grinned. ¡°Maybe. But I¡¯d bet on you over any poor bastard dumb enough to stand in your way.¡±


    A moment of silence followed as the weight of their collective experience settled over them. They weren¡¯t just a ragtag group¡ªthey were specialists, warriors, and professionals.


    They had the skills. Now they just needed the right plan.


    Macaroni leaned back, shaking her head with a grin. ¡°I¡¯ve seen Cadenza do some crazy shit. Once, I watched her dislocate a guy¡¯s arm like she was just opening a bag of chips. No hesitation, no effort¡ªjust pop¡ªand he went down screaming.¡± She smirked at the memory. ¡°And then there was that time she kicked a guy so hard he flew down an entire city block. Like, full-on airborne.¡±


    Jack raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re exaggerating.¡±


    ¡°Swear on my life,¡± Macaroni insisted. ¡°And let¡¯s not forget when she ripped a car door clean off its hinges, used it as a shield, and then threw it like she was Captain freakin¡¯ America.¡±


    Sonata let out a low whistle. ¡°Remind me never to piss her off.¡±


    Cadenza sighed. ¡°It¡¯s really not that impressive.¡±


    Jack stared at her. ¡°Not that impressive? You threw a car door like it was a frisbee.¡±


    Macaroni chuckled. ¡°Yeah, Cadenza, that¡¯s not normal. Normal people don¡¯t do that.¡±


    Cadenza simply shrugged, unbothered.


    Macaroni leaned back, switching gears. ¡°You know, when I was a kid, I stayed with my extended family while my dad was deployed during Operation Just Cause and the Gulf War. Some of my relatives had these old comic books from World War II¡ªthe ones their parents had saved since they were kids back then.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Yeah, those war-era comics were something else. The propaganda was off the charts.¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°I mean, yeah, but they were fun in their own way. Over-the-top heroes punching dictators in the face? Classic.¡±


    Then she paused, looking at Mitchell curiously. ¡°Speaking of old war stuff¡­ What were you humming just now?¡±


    Mitchell glanced up, as if he hadn¡¯t even realized he was doing it. ¡°It¡¯s an old Little Bird military song. Dates back to 1941.¡±


    Sonata tilted her head. ¡°Never heard of it.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Not surprising. It¡¯s one of those wartime morale songs, meant to fire up the troops. The lyrics are all about how this time, the military is going to finish the job they started and won¡¯t come back home until the country wins the war.¡±


    Mitchell said, voice quieter now. ¡°It was written during the early years of the war, when people weren¡¯t sure how things would turn out. By 1944, the song wasn¡¯t just some rallying cry¡ªit was real to the soldiers singing it.¡±


    Macaroni glanced at him. ¡°It was sung publicly in ¡®44, right?¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Yeah. Last time anyone sang it publicly was in 1944, by a bunch of 17-to-19-year-olds getting shipped out. By then, the war was already swinging in the Allies¡¯ favor, but the Axis¡­ They were like a cornered rattlesnake¡ªdesperate, unpredictable, and dangerous as hell.¡±


    Sonata leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she studied the map of Fort Varasque. ¡°Alright, we need a plan. We can¡¯t just stroll in and knock on the front door.¡± She tapped her fingers against the map, thinking. ¡°One option? We get a vehicle¡ªsomething discreet, with dark-tinted windows. Drive right up to the fort, park in a concealed position, and wait. Any hostiles that get too close, we take them out with suppressed weapons¡ªclean, quiet.¡±


    She glanced around the room. ¡°Not exactly foolproof, but it¡¯s better than going in guns blazing.¡± She leaned back in her chair. ¡°That said, if anyone¡¯s got a better idea, I¡¯d love to hear it.¡±


    Sam rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ¡°What about a diversion?¡± he suggested. ¡°Something big enough to make the garrison send out a bunch of their forces to investigate. That¡¯d open up a window for us to slip in while they¡¯re busy elsewhere.¡±


    Jack nodded. ¡°Not a bad idea. We could set off a car bomb a few miles away, fake a shootout¡ªhell, even trigger a false distress signal. If they think they¡¯re under attack somewhere else, they might thin their defenses.¡±


    Mitchell, however, wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°Risky,¡± he said. ¡°What if they don¡¯t take the bait? Some commanders won¡¯t just send their men out¡ªthey¡¯ll double down and go into full lockdown instead. If that happens, we¡¯re screwed before we even get near the place.¡±


    Sam sighed. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the downside. Could work, could backfire spectacularly.¡±


    Sonata drummed her fingers on the table. ¡°So¡­ we either try the stealth approach with the vehicle or gamble on a distraction. Neither is perfect.¡±


    Macaroni replied. ¡°Welcome to military planning. Nothing¡¯s perfect.¡±


    The room fell into silence as they mulled over their options. Whatever they chose, it had to work¡ªbecause failure wasn¡¯t an option.


    Sonata crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. ¡°Sam¡¯s plan isn¡¯t bad, but there¡¯s a flaw,¡± she pointed out. ¡°Let¡¯s say we do set up a diversion¡ªwhat¡¯s stopping the enemy from just radioing another garrison for backup? Or worse, calling in reinforcements from nearby patrols? It wouldn¡¯t take much for them to send out a squad to investigate while the rest hunker down and prepare for an attack.¡±


    She leaned forward, her voice firm. ¡°One thing they hammer into us in Special Forces training is avoid detection at all costs. We¡¯re not built for prolonged firefights. Small teams like ours aren¡¯t meant to hold ground¡ªwe¡¯re trained to hit hard, hit fast, and get out before the enemy even knows what¡¯s happening.¡±


    Mitchell nodded in agreement. ¡°Even with Cadenza. We don¡¯t have the numbers or the firepower for a siege. If we get pinned down inside that fort, we¡¯re done. We need an insertion plan that keeps us quiet.¡±


    Sonata gestured toward the map. ¡°And let¡¯s not forget¡ªmodern communications make this even trickier. This isn¡¯t the ancient world where armies relied on runners, messenger birds, or smoke signals. One radio call, one satellite ping, and suddenly we¡¯re facing a whole damn battalion instead of a skeleton crew.¡±


    Jack exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is¡­ we can¡¯t afford to get spotted. Period.¡±


    ¡°Damn straight,¡± Sonata said. ¡°Once we go in, we have to stay in control of the situation. That means no alarms, no radio transmissions, and no time for them to react. If we make a mistake, we won¡¯t be fighting just the garrison¡ªwe¡¯ll be fighting every enemy force in the region.¡±


    Macaroni tapped her fingers against the table, deep in thought. ¡°Alright, so¡­ we need stealth. But we also need an exit strategy. If we go in quiet, we better have a way to get out just as cleanly.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Then let¡¯s work out both. No matter how we get in, we need a way to disappear when it¡¯s done.¡±


    Cadenza leaned forward, arms crossed, her expression calm but calculating. ¡°I¡¯ve got a plan,¡± she said. ¡°We create multiple distractions¡ªsmall ones¡ªscattered across the area. Something subtle enough to make them uneasy but not immediately scream ¡®attack.¡¯ If we do it right, they¡¯ll start sending patrols out to investigate, slowly pulling troops away from the main defenses.¡±


    Mitchell rubbed his chin, considering it. ¡°Not bad. Actually, that lines up with something my Lieutenant¡ªLieutenant Luna¡ªtaught us back in the day.¡± He glanced at the group before continuing. ¡°At Officer School, they drill into you the importance of battlefield deception. The idea is to confuse the enemy, make them second-guess where the real threat is.¡±


    He pointed at the map spread across the table. ¡°Inexperienced commanders¡ªhell, even some seasoned ones¡ªtend to react instinctively when they feel like they¡¯re losing control. If they think one side of their defense is under threat, they¡¯ll start shifting forces to compensate. The trick is making them think they need to move their troops, and then we hit where they least expect it¡ªwhen the weak spot opens up.¡±


    Cadenza nodded. ¡°Exactly. We don¡¯t need to take out the entire garrison¡ªwe just need them to believe something bigger is happening so they start making mistakes. A little paranoia goes a long way.¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°Psychological warfare, huh? I like it.¡±


    Sonata, still studying the map, glanced up. ¡°Alright. So let¡¯s break it down. What kind of distractions are we talking about? How do we make sure they react the way we want them to, without tipping them off that they¡¯re being played?¡±


    The room fell silent as everyone started thinking through the possibilities. The mission was beginning to take shape¡ªbut execution would be everything.


    Jack exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the table. ¡°Alright, so we need distractions. But we also need control¡ªwe can¡¯t just go around setting off explosions and hoping for the best. If they figure out it¡¯s a trap, they¡¯ll hunker down instead of sending troops out.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Right. We need just enough noise to make them think they¡¯re dealing with a real but manageable threat. If it feels too big, they¡¯ll call for reinforcements. If it feels too small, they¡¯ll ignore it. We need that sweet spot.¡±


    Cadenza traced a line along the map. ¡°We hit multiple points at once. Spread them out enough that the garrison has to split their forces to cover them all. Maybe a few well-placed detonations¡ªsmall ones, controlled. Enough to mimic sabotage rather than a full-blown assault.¡±


    Sonata leaned back, arms crossed. ¡°Could set off some remote charges near their supply lines, make it seem like someone¡¯s trying to cut off their logistics. Maybe stage a fake ambush on one of their patrol routes¡ªsome false footprints, spent shell casings, a little blood to make it look like a firefight happened.¡±


    Sam cracked his knuckles. ¡°Hell, we could even go old-school¡ªmess with their comms. Some good old-fashioned signal interference, maybe a bit of fake radio chatter to make them think enemy operatives are moving in.¡±


    Macaroni grinned. ¡°I like it. A little misdirection, some psychological pressure¡­ and while they¡¯re busy running in circles, we slip in.¡±


    Jack, still skeptical, tapped the map. ¡°That¡¯s assuming they take the bait. What if they don¡¯t? What if they just go into full lockdown?¡±


    Mitchell sighed. ¡°That¡¯s the risk. But that¡¯s why we don¡¯t rely on just one distraction. We throw several at them, make it look organic. And if they do lock down, then we adjust. Maybe we create a bigger problem they can¡¯t ignore.¡±


    Cadenza¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°If it comes to that, we¡¯ll have to get more aggressive. But let¡¯s try the smart approach first.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Alright. We divide into teams. Some of us handle the distractions, the rest prepare to infiltrate. We set up a tight timetable¡ªexecute the distractions at the right intervals to keep them reacting instead of thinking.¡±


    Macaroni cracked her knuckles. ¡°Now that sounds like a plan.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Then let¡¯s make it happen.¡±


    Mitchell leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got an alternative plan¡ªone that doesn¡¯t rely on us sneaking around in the dark and hoping they take the bait.¡± He tapped the radio clipped to his vest. ¡°As a Radiotelephone Operator in the 39th Airborne Regiment, I learned how to use military comms inside and out. I can pretend to be one of their officers and radio Fort Varasque directly, requesting reinforcements because we¡¯re supposedly under attack. If I do it right, their commander will have no choice but to send out troops, leaving the fort vulnerable.¡±


    Jack raised an eyebrow. ¡°And you think they¡¯ll just buy that?¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how often officers and high-ranking members of the same military¡ªor even terrorist organizations¡ªdon¡¯t actually like each other. There¡¯s tension, distrust, egos clashing. Hell, look at history¡ªPatton and Montgomery were both on the same side in World War II, and they still couldn¡¯t stand each other. If I play it right, I can make it sound like some rival commander is demanding reinforcements, maybe even subtly insult the guy¡¯s competence so he feels pressured to comply.¡±


    Macaroni grinned. ¡°Ah, classic manipulation. Appeal to pride, make them feel like they have to act.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°And to seal the deal, we jam communications with the other garrison so Fort Varasque¡¯s commander can¡¯t call and confirm whether the request is real. By the time they figure it out, it¡¯ll be too late.¡±


    Sonata leaned back, chuckling. ¡°You know, this whole thing sounds like something out of a spy movie. I took our daughters to see a film a while back where some guy rerouted all of his wife¡¯s outgoing calls to his own phone. No matter who she tried to call, it went straight to him.¡±


    Cadenza smirked and nudged Mitchell. ¡°And you¡¯re the one playing the con artist here. That doesn¡¯t worry you?¡±


    Mitchell shrugged. ¡°I have no problem being a sperm donor.¡± He paused, glancing around. ¡°Wait¡ªwhat does that have to do with anything?¡±


    Sonata rolled her eyes. ¡°Nothing. Just messing with you.¡±


    Jack shook his head, suppressing a laugh. ¡°Alright, so if we pull this off, we get Fort Varasque to send out a good chunk of their forces. That leaves us a window to slip in.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°And it¡¯s a way better solution than just blindly hoping they react to random distractions. If Mitchell can successfully trick the garrison commander while we block his ability to verify the info, we control the battlefield before we even step foot inside.¡±


    Macaroni grinned. ¡°Now that¡¯s some next-level psychological warfare.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Then let¡¯s get to work.¡±


    __________


    One hour later, at 01:35 hours, the thick, oppressive darkness of the forest surrounded the group. The air was cool, damp, and heavy with anticipation. Outside the heavily fortified walls of Fort Varasque, the dense trees provided the perfect cover as the team crouched low, their figures barely visible in the shadows. The silence was only broken by the rustling of leaves as the wind swept through the branches, and the occasional distant chirp of night creatures.


    Sonata leaned in close to Mitchell, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°It¡¯s your turn. Make it count.¡± She looked around at the others, signaling them to stay sharp.


    Mitchell, who had been silently checking his equipment, nodded. His hands moved with practiced precision as he adjusted the settings on his radio. He¡¯d spent countless hours as a Radiotelephone Operator in the 39th Airborne Regiment, and now it was time to put that training to use. With a quiet click of a button, he found the right frequency. His eyes narrowed as he started transmitting.


    "Fort Varasque Command, this is Garrison Command from Fort Halvador. We are under heavy attack and require immediate reinforcements," Mitchell¡¯s voice came through the radio, deliberately deepened to sound more authoritative. He paused for a moment, letting the words settle. "We have already lost a portion of our outer defenses. We need backup, now."


    Sonata and the others held their breath, eyes fixed on Mitchell as he waited for the response. The seconds ticked by, the tension palpable in the air. Finally, the crackling voice of Fort Varasque¡¯s garrison commander came through.


    ¡°Understood, Halvador. Reinforcements will be dispatched immediately. Hold your position, and we will send a convoy.¡± The voice sounded rushed, almost panicked.


    Mitchell grinned inwardly but maintained his composure, knowing he had successfully lured them in. ¡°Copy that. We¡¯ll hold the line until you arrive.¡±


    With the transmission done, Mitchell switched off the radio, a small but satisfied smile forming on his lips. ¡°That¡¯s one down. Let¡¯s see how they react.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Nice. Now, we wait.¡±


    Minutes dragged on as the team remained still, the sounds of the forest around them mixing with the occasional crunch of leaves underfoot. They could hear the faint hum of trucks approaching in the distance.


    The sound grew louder and louder until the headlights of a convoy of twenty military trucks appeared through the trees, moving quickly toward Fort Varasque. The convoy kicked up dust and gravel, and the vehicles sped past their hidden position without even slowing down. The vehicles were clearly focused on getting to the fort as quickly as possible, and the garrison commander¡¯s hurried orders ensured they were sending out reinforcements without verifying the situation first.


    The team watched from their concealed positions, their breathing steady but sharp with focus. Sonata held her hand up, signaling for everyone to stay put.


    As the last truck in the convoy passed, Mitchell whispered, ¡°That¡¯s our window. We move now.¡±


    Without hesitation, the group moved quickly and quietly through the trees, keeping to the shadows and staying low to the ground. They knew this was their moment¡ªan opportunity that wouldn¡¯t last long. The convoy had pulled away most of the garrison¡¯s forces, leaving Fort Varasque vulnerable.


    Sonata, Macaroni, and the others moved with swift efficiency, carefully threading through the dense undergrowth, their eyes locked on the entrance to the fort. The moonlight filtering through the trees gave them just enough visibility to avoid obstacles without making them visible to anyone still at the fort. Every step they took was measured, every movement deliberate.


    They neared the perimeter of the fort, stopping briefly to assess the situation. The main gate was still guarded, but the tension of the moment was palpable.


    ¡°We need to get through the side entrance,¡± Mitchell whispered, his voice barely audible. ¡°They¡¯ll be distracted by the convoy. We¡¯ve got a few minutes before anyone figures out it was a ruse.¡±


    Sonata gave a sharp nod, her eyes scanning the surroundings. ¡°Let¡¯s move, then. We¡¯ve got one shot at this.¡±


    They approached a side entrance, moving swiftly but cautiously, their breaths measured, their senses heightened. The metal door, partially rusted at the edges, loomed in front of them. Sonata tested the handle¡ªit was unlocked. Exchanging glances, they nodded to one another before slipping inside undetected.


    The corridor beyond was dimly lit, the flickering overhead bulbs casting long, wavering shadows against the cold stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of aged concrete, gun oil, and a faint trace of dampness. It was quiet¡ªtoo quiet. The kind of silence that felt unnatural, like a coiled spring waiting to snap.


    Macaroni frowned as she scanned their surroundings. ¡°This doesn¡¯t sit right with me,¡± she murmured, keeping her voice low.


    Mitchell tightened his grip on his suppressed rifle. ¡°They sent twenty trucks out. Eighteen of those were packed with soldiers, with the last two likely carrying additional supplies. That means Fort Varasque is nowhere near as heavily guarded as we originally thought.¡±


    Macaroni exhaled through her nose, thinking. ¡°If my math is right, and assuming this place had around three hundred troops before the convoy left, that means we¡¯re dealing with roughly sixty soldiers left behind. Give or take.¡±


    Jack, who had been keeping an eye on the corridor ahead, turned slightly. ¡°Sixty¡¯s still enough to make our lives hell if they catch us. We need to move fast.¡±


    Sonata nodded in agreement. ¡°They¡¯ll still have patrols, and at least a few guards posted at key positions. They¡¯re not stupid¡ªthey wouldn¡¯t completely strip their defenses bare. But this?¡± She gestured around the seemingly abandoned hallway. ¡°This tells me they weren¡¯t expecting trouble tonight. They probably think they have enough men left behind to handle anything short of a full-scale assault.¡±


    Cadenza, standing near the rear of the group, folded her arms. ¡°Then we stay unpredictable. Move fast, stay quiet, and hit hard if we have to. If they don¡¯t realize we¡¯re here until it¡¯s too late, we¡¯ll have the upper hand.¡±


    Macaroni smirked. ¡°I like the sound of that.¡±


    Mitchell motioned for the group to move forward. ¡°Alright, no unnecessary risks. We get in, find Julia, and get out before they even think about sounding an alarm. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Jack leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Alright, where are they keeping the prisoners? Any idea where the cells would be?"


    Sonata furrowed her brow, scanning the dimly lit corridor ahead as if trying to see through the walls. ¡°If I had to guess,¡± she murmured, ¡°they¡¯d either be at the bottom of the facility or underneath the security wing. That¡¯s standard for most fortifications. Keep the prisoners deep, out of sight, and hard to break out.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Makes sense. Harder to escape from underground, and easier to keep an eye on them.¡±


    Sonata shrugged. ¡°Yeah, but here¡¯s the thing¡ªwho knows when this place was last updated? Fort Varasque has been around for centuries. Hell, blueprints weren¡¯t even a thing until 1842. Before that, architects and engineers just worked off sketches, measurements, and memory.¡±


    Jack exhaled slowly. ¡°So, what you¡¯re saying is... we¡¯re dealing with a fortress that¡¯s been modified who-knows-how-many-times since the High Middle Ages?¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Exactly. If this place was originally built in the late 11th century, then we have no clue what¡¯s been added, removed, or reinforced over the years. Secret passages, collapsed tunnels, hidden rooms¡ªanything could be waiting for us down there.¡±


    Macaroni muttered under her breath. ¡°Great. Just what we needed. A medieval labyrinth.¡±


    Cadenza, standing nearby with her arms crossed, ¡°If it¡¯s a maze, we just have to make sure we don¡¯t get lost in it.¡±


    Mitchell tapped the side of his rifle. ¡°Then we stick to the plan. Move fast, stay quiet, and take out any threats before they can raise an alarm. First priority¡ªfinding a way down.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Agreed. If the cells are underground, there has to be a stairwell or an access point somewhere. We just need to find it before the remaining guards figure out we¡¯re here.¡±


    The group pressed forward, their footsteps nearly silent against the stone floor.


    Macaroni glanced at Mitchell as they crept down the dimly lit corridor, "What¡¯s the chance Julia¡¯s not even here?"


    Mitchell exhaled through his nose, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. ¡°One in three,¡± he admitted. ¡°There¡¯s a decent chance she¡¯s somewhere else. But we¡¯re not just here for Julia.¡±


    Macaroni gave him a questioning look.


    Mitchell continued, ¡°When this country got taken over by these bastards, they imprisoned the people they couldn¡¯t just kill. Political prisoners, rebels, suspected traitors¡ªhell, probably innocent civilians too. And they didn¡¯t throw them in modern facilities. No, they locked them up in old castles like this one.¡±


    Jack furrowed his brow. ¡°Makes sense. These places were built to withstand sieges and prolonged assaults.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Thick stone walls, reinforced gates, narrow passageways¡ªit¡¯s hard as hell to break into or out of. But¡­¡± He hesitated, glancing toward a window where the wind howled softly through a crack in the aged stone. ¡°They weren¡¯t built for weather.¡±


    Sonata caught on immediately. ¡°You¡¯re talking about the hurricanes.¡±


    Mitchell grimly nodded. ¡°And the storm surges. These old fortresses may have been impenetrable in medieval times, but they weren¡¯t designed to handle months of exposure to extreme weather. When the hurricanes hit, some of these places were flooded. No power, no proper drainage, barely any ventilation. If there were prisoners locked up when the storms came¡­¡±


    Macaroni swallowed hard. ¡°They weren¡¯t so lucky.¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Yeah. If anyone¡¯s still alive in here, they¡¯ve been left to rot.¡±


    Jack clenched his fists. ¡°Then we¡¯re saving whoever we can. Julia or not.¡±


    Sonata nodded firmly. ¡°We came here for a reason and we came in for a rescue, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re doing.¡±


    As they moved deeper into the fortress, Macaroni furrowed her brow, the weight of their mission pressing on her mind. ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± she muttered, keeping her voice low. ¡°Why the hell do they even lock up their own people just for being different? For thinking differently?¡±


    Sonata, walking just ahead, glanced over her shoulder. Her expression was hard, her tone even harder. ¡°Because regimes like this one¡ªhell, even terrorist organizations¡ªhate being questioned.¡± She paused, scanning their surroundings before continuing. ¡°The moment their leaders start feeling threatened, the moment anyone challenges their authority or their ideology, those people suddenly become enemies.¡±


    Mitchell nodded grimly. ¡°It¡¯s not about logic¡ªit¡¯s about control. Dissent spreads. One person asks a question, then another, then another. And if too many people start thinking for themselves, the whole damn system cracks.¡±


    Jack exhaled sharply. ¡°So they silence them. Imprison them. Or worse.¡±


    Sonata¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°Most of the time, it¡¯s worse.¡±


    Macaroni shook her head in disgust. ¡°Cowards. Instead of defending their beliefs, they just crush anyone who dares to challenge them.¡±


    Mitchell shot her a knowing look. ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re in power. Not because they¡¯re right, not because they¡¯re strong, but because they¡¯ve made fear their greatest weapon. The moment fear fades, so does their grip.¡±


    Macaroni clenched her fists. ¡°Then let¡¯s give them something to be afraid of.¡±


    As they moved through the dimly lit corridors of Fort Varasque, Mitchell kept his voice low but steady. ¡°Throughout human history, oppressive regimes have always tried to suppress those who question them. They thrive on obedience, on fear. That¡¯s why we call them totalitarian governments.¡±


    Macaroni glanced at him. ¡°Totalitarian? You mean like dictatorships?¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°More than just dictatorships¡ªtotalitarian governments don¡¯t just want political control; they want to control everything. They dictate how people think, what they believe, and even how they live their private lives. They enforce a single ideology and punish anyone who doesn¡¯t conform.¡±


    Jack frowned. ¡°And how¡¯s that different from an authoritarian government?¡±


    Mitchell adjusted his grip on his weapon as they crept forward. ¡°Good question. Authoritarian governments still demand obedience, but they don¡¯t necessarily try to control every aspect of life. They concentrate on maintaining political power, but they might allow certain personal freedoms. Totalitarianism, on the other hand, leaves nothing outside the government¡¯s control. It dictates how you live, what you believe, and even who you associate with.¡±


    Sonata muttered, ¡°So basically, totalitarianism is the worst-case scenario.¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°And that¡¯s why Little Bird isn¡¯t like that. It¡¯s an authoritative government, meaning it enforces laws and expects order, but it still allows individual freedoms. The government doesn¡¯t dictate how people live their lives. It doesn¡¯t care how many kids a couple has, what religion they follow, or what they do in their private lives¡ªso long as it doesn¡¯t break the law.¡±


    Macaroni scoffed. ¡°Tell that to those three Commonwealths that kept trying to pass those child limit laws.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Yeah, and the courts struck them down every time. Because in Little Bird, the government can encourage order, but it can¡¯t force people to live a certain way. It doesn¡¯t have a guiding ideology like a totalitarian state does. It just enforces stability.¡±


    Jack exhaled. ¡°So basically, totalitarianism tries to control everything, and authoritarianism just wants people to shut up and obey?¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Pretty much. And what we¡¯re dealing with here? This is totalitarianism at its worst. A regime that locks people up just for questioning their leaders. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡±


    Macaroni gritted her teeth. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure these bastards lose some control tonight.¡±


    Sonata suddenly raised a hand, fingers spread in a silent signal to stop. The group froze behind her, weapons at the ready. She tilted her head slightly, listening.


    Voices. Up ahead.


    They weren¡¯t close¡ªprobably a patrol¡ªbut they weren¡¯t far either. The murmured conversation echoed faintly off the stone walls, distorted by centuries-old architecture. Everyone remained motionless, waiting.


    After about a minute, the voices faded as the patrol moved on. Sonata exhaled softly through her nose, then gestured for them to continue. They crept forward, slipping through the ancient corridors of Fort Varasque until they finally emerged into what had once been the castle¡¯s main hall.


    The room was vast, its high ceiling supported by massive stone pillars. Flickering artificial lights had replaced whatever grand chandeliers or torches had once adorned the space. Against one wall, a mounted map of the fortress caught Sonata¡¯s eye. Without a word, she moved toward it, scanning the layout with careful precision.


    She took her time, memorizing key locations¡ªpotential guard posts, possible prisoner holding areas, escape routes.


    As she studied the map, Jack nudged Macaroni and smirked. ¡°You might¡¯ve been trained with all that digital stuff in the U.S. Navy, but in Little Bird? We do things differently.¡±


    Macaroni arched an eyebrow. ¡°Oh? And what¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±


    Jack folded his arms. ¡°I mean all branches of the Little Bird Military train their people¡ªfrom the greenest recruits to the highest-ranking officers¡ªin basic skills. That means using analog tech, reading paper maps, and learning how to operate in a world where digital convenience isn¡¯t an option.¡±


    Macaroni scoffed. ¡°You¡¯re telling me your officers have to know how to function without GPS, radios, and all that fancy tech?¡±


    Jack nodded. ¡°Damn right. They¡¯re trained to lead in real combat situations¡ªwithout relying on satellites or an AI doing half the thinking for them. The Little Bird military drills old-school methods into everyone because, in today¡¯s world, no one ever stops to ask: What happens when the digital age fails?¡±


    Mitchell, still keeping watch near the entrance, added, ¡°EMP. Solar storms. Cyberwarfare. One good pulse, and all that tech you Navy folks rely on? Gone. But we¡¯d still be able to navigate, communicate, and fight. That¡¯s why we train the way we do.¡±


    Macaroni frowned, considering. She hated to admit it, but they had a point. If something knocked out digital systems, a lot of modern militaries would be stumbling in the dark.


    Sonata finally spoke, still studying the map. ¡°Alright. I think I¡¯ve got it. If they¡¯re holding Julia here, there are two places they¡¯d keep high-value prisoners.¡± She turned to face the group, her expression set. ¡°We¡¯ll need to split up.¡±


    Sonata took a step back from the map and turned to the group. ¡°Alright, here¡¯s how we do this. We need to split up. Waterson and I will take one route. Cadenza, you take another. Jack and Sam, you two go together. Waterson and Mackenzie Rose, you¡¯re securing a secondary exit in case things get loud.¡±


    Macaroni raised a hand, frowning. ¡°Hold up¡ªwhich Waterson?¡± She gestured between herself and Mitchell. ¡°Because last I checked, we¡¯ve got two Watersons here. And, just to make it extra confusing, Mackenzie Rose and I share the same first name.¡±


    Sonata smirked slightly. ¡°Right. Good point. To clarify¡ªMitchell and I will stick together. Macaroni and Mackenzie Rose will form the other team securing the exit.¡±


    Macaroni sighed in mock exasperation. ¡°See? That¡¯s all I needed to know.¡±


    Jack chuckled, adjusting his gear. ¡°Damn, your family¡¯s a logistical nightmare.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°Try filling out paperwork with us.¡±


    Cadenza rolled her eyes. ¡°Alright, enough. We¡¯ve got a job to do.¡± She adjusted her rifle and turned toward the dimly lit corridor ahead. ¡°We move quietly, we move fast. Radio silence unless absolutely necessary. Once we locate Julia¡ªor any other prisoners¡ªwe regroup. If we run into trouble, we don¡¯t get bogged down. We adapt.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Exactly. Everyone knows their assignments. Let¡¯s move.¡±


    With that, the team split up, disappearing into the ancient halls of Fort Varasque. The real challenge was about to begin.


    As the group split off in different directions, Mitchell and Sonata moved carefully through the dimly lit corridors. Keeping their footsteps light, they navigated around old stone archways and shadowy alcoves.


    Mitchell, keeping his voice low, muttered, ¡°I¡¯m expecting Macaroni to find us a boat¡ªor some kind of ship¡ªfor the escape.¡±


    Sonata, scanning ahead for any signs of movement, replied without looking back, ¡°An escape vehicle is an escape vehicle. Beggars can¡¯t be choosers.¡± She smirked slightly. ¡°We¡¯re here illegally, remember? If this were a legitimate military op, the planners would¡¯ve had everything sorted out. Every detail, down to the last second.¡±


    Mitchell exhaled sharply. ¡°Yeah, and if this were a joint operation with another country, those planners would¡¯ve been coordinating logistics from the get-go. Extraction, backup, contingencies¡ªeverything.¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Exactly. Back in my military days¡ªbefore motherhood¡ªI worked with all kinds of special forces units. SAS, Delta Force¡­ hell, even the Soviet Spetsnaz back in the day.¡± She glanced at Mitchell. ¡°And let me tell you¡ªno matter how good a plan looks on paper, when things go sideways, you are your own backup. If we don¡¯t have an escape ready, we¡¯ll make one.¡±


    Mitchell chuckled quietly. ¡°Guess I should be glad we have you around, then.¡±


    Sonata smirked. ¡°Damn right.¡±


    As they moved cautiously through the fortress, Sonata kept her voice low but steady, reflecting on the differences in how their respective military units operated.


    ¡°A lot of the time, we didn¡¯t have the same fire support assets that you or the others would¡¯ve had,¡± she said, her eyes sweeping the dimly lit hallway ahead.


    Mitchell nodded knowingly. ¡°Yeah, I get that. Back in my unit, we were trained for commando-style raids, so being behind enemy lines meant we weren¡¯t exactly expecting airstrikes to bail us out. We had to rely on our own tactics and firepower.¡±


    Sonata smirked slightly. ¡°Try never expecting fire support,¡± she countered. ¡°There were plenty of times where it was just me and my team¡ªno airstrikes, no artillery barrages, no cavalry coming over the hill. The only support we might get was from satellites or a recon plane skirting the edge of space. Those cameras could pick up heat signatures and help guide us, but that was about it.¡±


    Mitchell glanced at her. ¡°No support at all?¡±


    Sonata shrugged. ¡°Sometimes, yeah. Other times, we had access to direct artillery¡ªsmall, precise barrages on strike zones no bigger than a city block. And then there were those operations where we had everything at our disposal.¡±


    She began listing them off, counting on her fingers. ¡°Napalm strikes, tank-buster runs, laser-guided bombs, heavy airstrikes, mortar barrages, full-scale artillery bombardments, precision strikes, cluster munitions, carpet bombing, fuel-air bombs, incendiary attacks¡ªhell, even those specialized bombs designed to clear forests so we could make landing zones for helicopters.¡±


    Mitchell let out a low whistle. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of firepower.¡±


    Sonata gave a wry smile. ¡°Yeah, but don¡¯t let that fool you. More often than not, those fire support options were limited or completely off the table. Sending in military aircraft or launching strikes inside a neutral country? That¡¯s a fast track to starting a war¡ªor at the very least, a major international incident. And that¡¯s why special forces teams are trained to avoid detection at all costs.¡±


    Mitchell nodded, understanding. ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s also why they use weapons sourced from whatever country they¡¯re operating in¡ªso if something goes wrong, it doesn¡¯t scream foreign intervention.¡±


    Sonata exhaled, her expression serious. ¡°Exactly. The more invisible we are, the less chance of turning a covert op into an international disaster.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°And here I thought my missions were high-stakes.¡±


    Sonata chuckled under her breath. ¡°Trust me, once you¡¯ve been in a firefight where no one is coming to save you, you learn real fast just how high the stakes can get.¡±


    As they moved through the fortress, keeping low and quiet, Sonata glanced at Mitchell. ¡°I¡¯ve been in situations that made the Siege of Bastogne look like a vacation.¡±


    Mitchell raised an eyebrow. ¡°That bad, huh?¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°At least the 101st had reinforcements on the way. My squad? Most of the time, if we got into trouble, we had to get ourselves out.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°You know, my Uncle Stanley served with the 101st, and he always said that no one in the division ever agreed they needed rescuing. Even though, technically, Patton and the Third Army did break through to them.¡±


    Sonata shrugged. ¡°Maybe they didn¡¯t need rescuing, but at least they had someone coming for them.¡± She exhaled sharply. ¡°We didn¡¯t have that luxury. No backup, no cavalry charging over the hill. If we were compromised, we had to fight our way to exfil¡ªnot just pop smoke and wait for a ride.¡±


    Mitchell frowned slightly, considering that. ¡°No waiting for pickup, huh?¡±


    Sonata shook her head. ¡°Nope. Most of the time, our helicopters had a strict window. They¡¯d land, sit for a few minutes, and if we weren¡¯t there, they had to take off at bingo fuel to make it back to base. If we weren¡¯t at the rendezvous point in time, we were on our own.¡±


    Mitchell let out a low whistle. ¡°And if you missed your ride?¡±


    Sonata smirked grimly. ¡°Then it was ¡®find your own way home¡¯ time. We¡¯d have to hike to another predetermined exfil site, and that was if we were lucky. Sometimes our ride would be forced to come to us, but that was only if the risk was low enough. Other times, we¡¯d have to get real creative¡ªlike setting up a balloon for a surface-to-air recovery system.¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You actually used Skyhook?¡±


    Sonata nodded. ¡°Yeah, once or twice. But honestly? That was rare. About 85% of the time, we had to commandeer civilian transport¡ªtrucks, boats, whatever we could get our hands on¡ªto make it to a preselected exfil site.¡±


    Mitchell chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Damn. And here I thought the worst part of my missions was a rough landing.¡±


    Sonata smirked. ¡°Try running through hostile territory with a timer ticking down, knowing if you don¡¯t make it, you¡¯re walking home.¡±


    Mitchell¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Yeah¡­ that¡¯s a whole different kind of pressure.¡±


    As they navigated the dimly lit corridors of Fort Varasque, Sonata found herself speaking in a quieter, more reflective tone. ¡°You know, in Special Forces, they pull you out of service a lot more than regular infantry. The missions take a toll¡ªnot just physically, but mentally.¡± She exhaled. ¡°Gives you a lot of time to think.¡±


    Mitchell glanced at her. ¡°Yeah? Think about what?¡±


    Sonata hesitated for a moment before smirking slightly. ¡°Honestly? About time travel.¡±


    Mitchell raised an eyebrow. ¡°Time travel?¡±


    ¡°Yeah.¡± Sonata nodded. ¡°Sixty percent of the time when I was forced to take leave¡ªto relax, to destress¡ªI kept thinking: What if I could go back to the First World War and snipe Hitler before he ever became a threat? Maybe that way, the Second World War never happens, and those seventeen million people don¡¯t get killed.¡±


    Mitchell let out a low chuckle. ¡°The old ¡®kill Hitler¡¯ debate, huh? Classic.¡±


    Sonata tilted her head. ¡°You don¡¯t think it would work?¡±


    Mitchell shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not saying it wouldn¡¯t change something, but the world doesn¡¯t work in neat little cause-and-effect chains. Even if you got rid of Hitler, you¡¯ve still got Stalin.¡±


    Sonata frowned. ¡°Stalin?¡±


    Mitchell nodded. ¡°Yeah. Ever hear of the Great Terror of 1937? Also known as the Great Purge? Nearly a million people executed. Millions more sent to forced labor camps, deported, starved, massacred, detained, interrogated¡ªsometimes just for knowing the wrong person.¡±


    Sonata sighed. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess you¡¯re right. If it wasn¡¯t Hitler, it would¡¯ve been someone else.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Mitchell said. ¡°That¡¯s the problem with trying to rewrite history¡ªyou never really know what¡¯s going to happen. That¡¯s the butterfly effect. Science fiction loves to play with the idea¡ªsome guy goes back in time, steps on a butterfly, and suddenly the entire timeline is thrown into chaos. Even if you could go back and take out Hitler, who¡¯s to say someone worse wouldn¡¯t have taken his place? Maybe the war still happens, but under different circumstances. Maybe the Cold War turns hot.¡±


    Sonata let out a frustrated sigh. ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess that¡¯s why we don¡¯t mess with time travel.¡±


    Mitchell smirked. ¡°That, and, you know¡­ it doesn¡¯t exist.¡±


    Sonata rolled her eyes. ¡°Yet.¡±


    Mitchell chuckled. ¡°Alright, Doc Brown. Let¡¯s focus on this mission first before we go rewriting history.¡±


    Sonata shook her head, but she was smiling now. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Let¡¯s go.¡±


    Macaroni and Mackenzie reached a fork in the hallway, both knowing the time for splitting up had arrived. As they exchanged glances, Mackenzie calmly pulled out her handgun, the weapon almost blending with her combat medic uniform.


    Macaroni raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. ¡°Hey, is it even legal for a combat medic to carry a gun like that?¡±


    Mackenzie gave a slight nod, her tone cool but confident. ¡°It¡¯s legal, but there are restrictions. I can only use it for self-defense or if I need to protect a patient. It¡¯s not for offensive actions.¡± Her gaze was focused ahead, the weight of her words not lost on either of them. ¡°If I ever need it, I¡¯ll make sure it¡¯s for the right reason.¡±


    Macaroni nodded, processing the information. She couldn¡¯t help but feel that having someone like Mackenzie by her side, even with those rules, was a reassuring asset.


    The two split off, moving in opposite directions. Macaroni slipped into the shadows of the dimly lit hall, her boots light against the cold stone floor. Her eyes darted toward the outside of the fort, where the muffled sounds of the wind howled through cracks in the walls. She quickly made her way outside, creeping toward the waterline, knowing it was time to find a solid plan for escape.


    As she reached the dock, she spotted several rowboats tethered to the wooden pier. At first glance, it seemed like a viable option. But as she inspected the boats, a sense of unease crept over her. Rowboats, even in the best circumstances, were slow and vulnerable. They¡¯d be sitting ducks in the water, easy targets for anyone with a decent line of sight. The last thing they needed was to be stranded or pinned down in an exposed position. With a quick shake of her head, Macaroni turned and made her way back toward the heart of the compound, determined to find something more reliable.


    A few minutes later, she met back up with Mackenzie, who had a satisfied gleam in her eyes.


    ¡°I found it,¡± Mackenzie said, the words almost a whisper as she gestured toward a heavily armored vehicle parked a short distance away. The vehicle was a far cry from the rowboats, boasting thick plating and a mounted gun on the roof¡ªan ideal choice for their escape.


    Macaroni grinned. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what we need. Armor, firepower, and a means to get out of here quickly. Let¡¯s make sure it¡¯s operational and get moving.¡±


    After securing the armored vehicle, Macaroni and Mackenzie knew that the next phase of their plan was crucial¡ªensuring a clean and undisturbed getaway. Their plan wasn¡¯t just about escaping; it was about ensuring that the enemy would have a long time before they could react.


    The pair moved quickly but carefully, slipping through the shadows toward the parked enemy vehicles. These weren¡¯t just any ordinary vehicles; they were well-maintained military transport trucks and armored jeeps, each one capable of putting up a serious chase if the enemy gave pursuit. But Macaroni and Mackenzie weren¡¯t just thinking about the here and now¡ªthey were thinking ahead, calculating every move to buy their group precious time. They needed to sabotage these vehicles in a way that would leave the enemy scrambling for repairs, allowing them a massive head start before the alarm was even fully raised.


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking tires first,¡± Macaroni whispered, looking over a jeep. ¡°Slashing them might be too obvious¡ªlet¡¯s mess with the brake lines. That¡¯ll take them longer to spot and fix, but they won¡¯t be able to go anywhere without realizing something¡¯s wrong.¡±


    Mackenzie gave a sharp nod, already pulling out tools from the small kit she¡¯d brought along. ¡°That¡¯ll work. I¡¯ll go for the engine components. If we disable their ability to start, they¡¯ll be dead in the water. A few wires cut here and there should do it.¡±


    They split up, working with precision. Every action was deliberate, aimed at creating maximum chaos with minimal effort. Macaroni found the brake lines and expertly severed them, ensuring that the damage wouldn¡¯t be immediately obvious. Meanwhile, Mackenzie went to work under the hood of a military truck, cutting wires, loosening essential components, and making sure it would be a headache for anyone attempting to fix the engine later on.


    As they moved from vehicle to vehicle, their pace quickened, but they remained cautious. Each vehicle was methodically disabled: tires punctured, brake lines shredded, wires disconnected, fuel tanks tampered with. It was a silent symphony of sabotage, a plan that would keep the enemy from getting their machines back into working order for a long while.


    By the time they finished, it wasn¡¯t just a few vehicles that were out of commission; it was nearly every vehicle in the area. The enemy would be forced to scramble to get even one functional vehicle operational, and by the time that happened, Macaroni and Mackenzie¡¯s team would already be long gone¡ªmiles ahead, hidden within the dense forests, well on their way to freedom.


    ¡°They won¡¯t know what hit them,¡± Mackenzie muttered with satisfaction, wiping her hands clean. ¡°By the time they realize they¡¯re stranded, we¡¯ll be miles away.¡±


    Macaroni flashed her a grin. ¡°Exactly. We¡¯ll have a serious head start. If we¡¯re lucky, they won¡¯t even have the time to call for reinforcements before we¡¯re out of range.¡±


    The two of them took one last look at their handiwork¡ªvehicles completely immobilized, the enemy unaware of the damage done. With a final glance at the armored vehicle they¡¯d secured, they turned and headed back toward their group, ready to execute the next phase of the plan.


    Mitchell and Sonata moved swiftly down the cold, damp corridor, their boots barely making a sound against the worn stone floor. The air was thick with the stench of mildew, sweat, and rusted iron, a testament to the years of suffering that had taken place within these walls. As they rounded a corner, they found Sam and Jack already at work on the heavy cell doors, forcing them open one by one. The clanking of metal echoed eerily through the prison block.


    Inside the cells, they found no sign of Julia. Instead, they were met with the hollow-eyed stares of political prisoners¡ªmen and women who had been deemed enemies of the regime. Some were gaunt, their ribs visible beneath ragged clothing, while others bore fresh wounds from recent interrogations. Among them, however, were several captured Little Birden Special Forces soldiers, their expressions grim but defiant.


    One of the Little Birden soldiers, a middle-aged man with a bruised face and a deep gash along his arm, stepped forward as soon as his restraints were removed. "If you''re looking for Julia," he said, his voice hoarse from dehydration, "she''s not here. Most likely, they took her to Schmerz."


    Sonata''s brow furrowed. "Schmerz?"


    Mitchell exhaled sharply. "It¡¯s German. It means Pain." He looked to Sonata, his expression darkening. "That¡¯s not a good sign."


    There was no time to dwell on the implications. They had prisoners to get out. Mitchell motioned for everyone to move. "Let¡¯s get these people out of here first. We¡¯ll figure out the next step once we¡¯re clear."


    They hurried back through the fortress, moving as quietly as possible to avoid alerting any remaining guards. When they reached the rendezvous point, they found Macaroni and Mackenzie Rose waiting by the armored vehicle they had secured. Without hesitation, they began loading the freed prisoners into the vehicle, ensuring the most wounded got inside first.


    Cadenza arrived moments later, slipping into the turret position and gripping the mounted gun. With a smirk, she pulled the charging handle back with a satisfying clack, ready for action.


    Jack wasted no time, sliding into the driver¡¯s seat and working quickly to hotwire the vehicle. The engine started up, and just as they were pulling away, a massive explosion erupted from within the fortress.


    The night sky was illuminated by the fiery blast, and Cadenza let out a triumphant cheer. "Hell yeah! That¡¯s their heavy weaponry gone! No way they¡¯re giving chase now!"