Frustrated Loyalty Part 3

Cassel finished entering the coordinates to Lancaster’s secret bunker into the nav computer then turned around to Sam in the passenger seat.


“Alright Sam, I have some questions that I pray you have good answers for. Who was that guy?”


“I don’t know.” Sam mumbled.


“Well he sure as hell knew you! I heard him say your name right before I killed him and you acted like you recognized his face.”


“I recognized him but I didn’t know him. His face hangs on the wall at H.Q.”


“Why? Is he some kind of hero?”


Sam shook his head. “He is one of the Legions of the Lost.”


“What exactly is that?”


Sam took in a deep breath. “That’s a touchy subject for us. You’ve heard about the Korhal Liberation Front right?” 


Cassel nodded. “We had been actively chasing them for the past two years. Six months ago I was within a hair length of capturing their leader and putting an end to this war, and yes make no mistake about it we are at war.”


“What happened?” Lancaster asked.


“They staged a very elaborate raid on our headquarters. Every Agent out in the field was called in to repel them. It took nearly two days but we chased them out. After that the Federation brass was too scared to continue so they began ignoring the Front, assuring everybody they were no problem, but anyone with common sense knows they are indeed a problem.”


“I can understand why that is a touchy situation,” Lancaster broke in, noting the bitterness in Sam’s voice. “It must burn you up having to spend time protecting billionaires like me instead of fighting the enemy.”


“What does this have to do with your Legion?” Cassel asked.


“A few months into the Federation's new stance of non-commitment involving the Front, many Agents became angry. After a while, a bunch of them went A.W.O.L. Some of them became private contractors, some just fell off the grid all together. Some of them even ended up working for the Front. The ones who left, including the man you killed just now, were called the Legions of the Lost.”


“So which one was that guy, private contractor or Front agent?”


Sam shrugged. “I will have to communicate with Lestra’ad to find out for sure. That attack was a little sloppy for a Front operation though.”


“How did he take that blast to the chest and keep moving?”


“He must have been wearing a Mark V like me,” Sam said, pulling down the top of his jumpsuit, revealing his own Mark V underneath. “They are standard issue Special Agent outfits, thinly lined with Kevlar. They are capable of taking a pistol blast from long distances. They absorb the kinetic energy and spread it among the suit.”


“He was allowed to keep that after leaving?” Cassel asked in disbelief.


Sam shrugged. “When you leave without telling, you kinda get to take whatever you want.”


“Here,” Lancaster said, handing Sam a mini field healing unit. “Put that on your cuts.”


Sam politely shook his head. “No thanks. I prefer to let my wounds heal naturally.”


“Those cuts are pretty nasty,” Cassel said. “You let that heal naturally and it will leave scars.”


Sam smiled. “I have no problem with scars,” He said as he rolled up his right sleeve. On the inside of his right bicep was a scar shaped like a tiny spider web.


“One of my earlier missions I was on the plant Sylvelian Thirteen. Me and another Agent were tasked with taking out a ruthless dictator to liberate the people of Sylvelian Thirteen then bring them into the protection of the Federation. 
"We got pinned down by the security force, real mean sonsuvbitches. Local ex-special forces, S.W.A.T. militia trained, you know the line. We had just about mopped up the resistance at the front of the mansion and were preparing to move in. I had my blaster raised in front of me, allowing the muzzle to lead the way, just like we were trained.
“My partner called me from behind about something he had found. As I turned to see what he had found, a sniper fired. The bolt hit me right there, piercing my muscle. It took months of rehabilitation before I could properly use this arm, which sucks since I’m right handed.”
Sam turned his head and motioned to a small patch devoid of hair smack in the center of his head.
“On my very first mission, I had to use my blaster. I had been so worried about making a mistake that I forgot to discharge the safety bolt from the barrel of my new blaster. The resulting blast knocked me backwards. I didn’t realize until afterwards that my head hit the concrete. I had a concussion and had to have fourteen stitches. My hair will never grow there because of the scar.”
Sam rolled up the left leg of his pants. Tiny scars marked his leg like a treasure map with multiple hiding spots.
“Middle of a war zone, Rigel Six. I was backing up the local Federation detachment in a fierce gunfight with some local insurgents. A grenade landed in our foxhole and out of instinct, I kicked the grenade back in the air. I caught it in time to save us but the resulting shrapnel tore my leg to shreds. I was confined to a bed for two months and had to use crutches for three after.
“The reason I show you these, gentlemen, is to showcase that I don’t fear scars. I treasure them for two reasons. Reason one, they are lessons. They remind me of the mistakes I made and help me remember not to make them again.
“Reason two, they remind me how lucky I am to still be alive. My line of work doesn’t exactly have a high life expectancy. The fact that I have been doing this for five years is more thanks to my supremely good luck than anything else.”


The three of them sat in the cockpit in silence for a few seconds.


“Did you lose any of your friends?” Lancaster finally chimed in. Sam gave him a curious look. “To the Legion I mean.”


Sam shook his head. “No, but we did lose a lot of good Agents.”


“Is there a connection between the Legion and the group that attacked us?” Cassel asked.


“No way to tell right now. They could be or it could be a big coincidence.” Sam shrugged.


“You don’t think so though.” Lancaster commented.


“I don’t put too much stock in coincidence, especially one as big as that.”


“It is a little questionable that a member of the Legion was among the group that showed up during a raid on the mansion a current Agent is defending.” Cassel agreed.


“The implications are very unsettling,” Sam nodded. “It would really rock the Agency if we had another mole.”


“Another mole?”


Sam began tinkering with his Osprey. “Yea, I’ve had to handle a few moles before.”


“What are you doing now?” Lancaster asked.


“Hm? Oh. I’m sending a short wave text transmission to Lestra’ad. We bounce the signal off of satellites until it finally arrives on a special communicator.”


“Nifty.”


“Well it can only be short wave bursts so we have to be succinct with our messages but we usually manage to get the point across.”


“How long will it take him to answer?” Lancaster asked.


“No telling,” Sam said as he put the Osprey back on his wrist. “Depends on what he is doing and if he has his communicator with him or at the office. So where are we headed to now?”


“Mr. Lancaster has a secret facility on the outskirts of town. The three of us will stay there until time to leave for Vecotr III.”

“What? You still plan on going?”


“Why not?” Lancaster asked indignantly. 


“Why not?! I’ll tell you why not! This has grown so much more into protecting a paranoid billionaire from Bubba Jay and his inbred brothers. We are dealing with semi-professionals here, sloppy as they may be.
“Not to mention we might be dealing with more Legion, ex-Special Agents in case you didn’t catch that just a few seconds ago.”


“If we change our plans then we are allowing terrorism to win.” Lancaster argued. 


“But if we continue with plans we still might be letting terrorism win. As in you dying?” Sam could not believe his ears. 


“This is not up for discussion Mr. Owens,” Lancaster huffed. “You are ordered to protect me wherever I go and I am going to Vector III. You do not have the ability to change that so you might as well accept it.”
Sam glared Lancaster down. “I don’t like this.”


“I don’t really care whether or not you like it Mr. Owens, you just have to accept it.”

The rest of the ride was tense and silent but finally they arrived at Lancaster’s bunker. Once everyone got squared away, Sam retreated to the security room for more investigation.
After a few attempts he managed to link up with the correct satellites to connect to the Agencies’ system.
After a few hours of precious solitude, Cassel came in with a plate of food.

“Figured you might like some food.”

“Thanks,” Sam muttered as he made a spot on the table for it. “We have a chef here?”

Cassel shook his head as he sat next to him. “Cooked it myself,” Sam gave him a sideways glance. “What? You think all I know is killing people?”

Sam took a careful taste of the stew. To his pleasure it was actually good.

“So what are you doing here?” Cassel asked while Sam shoveled the stew in his mouth.

“I’m trying to access the Agency Facial Recognition System. Maybe I can figure out who that person was and if we kept tabs on where they went after they left us.”

“So we can find out if this is a coincidence or if it was orchestrated by the Front.”

Sam nodded. “Although I have to admit I don’t understand what the Front would gain by killing an oil baron.”

“Mr. Lancaster is a very public face. Everybody on Earth knows who he is. If they managed to kill him then they would be striking a very public blow on home turf.”

Sam nodded. “Bring the threat of their organization straight to the forefront. Wide spread panics, pandemonium,”

“And if the Federation did nothing about it, the people would see how scared their leaders really are and how unsafe they truly are.”

Sam muttered a soft curse under his breath.


 “This is why we have lost so many Agents! Because of their gorramned noncommittal stance! All of these innocent people are being terrorized and killed by these high tech thugs and I’m hiding in a bunker in the middle of east Jesus nowhere waiting to go to some stupid high society party!”

“You really resent this assignment don’t you?”

“Do you blame me?” Sam asked as he sat his empty bowl on the table. “I had the chance to end this war. I almost had their leader. I was right there! One more day and he would have been in jail awaiting trial. Then they break into our H.Q. and I’m yanked back to home to defend it.
“After that, am I givin the ok to go back out there and finish what I started? NO! ‘We don’t want to risk another retaliation such as the attack on your H.Q. They might up the ante and attack innocent civilians on Earth.’
“News flash: they ARE attacking innocent civilians! Just because it is happening on our fringe worlds further out in the galaxy doesn’t mean they are less important than us!”

“If it angers you so much then why don’t you leave like the rest of the Legion and try something on your own?”

“Because…..I dunno. I still feel loyalty to what we use to stand for. I can’t explain how but somehow I know…..I KNOW that we will go back to our old ways. We just have to be patient and have faith.”

Cassel gathered Sam’s dishes. He was at the doorway when Sam made a noise.

“What is it?” Cassel asked, turning around.

“I found him. God help us, I found him.” Sam jumped up and ran out the door.

“Where are you going?” Cassel asked running after Sam.

“Where is Lancaster?”

“Bedroom, why?”

Sam ran up a set of stairs, taking them three at a time. “The man is named Lester Tatasciore.”

“You mean was.” Cassel corrected him as they turned a corner.

Sam lowered his shoulders and broke through a door way. “He was a Shadow Troop.”

“I’m sorry, a what?”

“Shadow Troop. They were part of some sort of weird experiment. They had neural implants placed in their brains that allowed them to mind control weaker minded troops.”

Sam and Cassel stopped at the doorway to Lancaster’s room. Sam swore out loud as the door stood in place.

“It’s locked. You got keys?”

Cassel pulled his keys out and did a quick scan. “Why are you worried?”

“Because the Shadow Troops were all linked by their implants. They shared a sort of….like a hive mind. What one of them thought, they all thought!”

“What are you saying?”

“When one left, they all left. If one was involved in this, they all are!”

Cassel unlocked the door and threw it open. As soon as it opened, three large blue orbs flew out, striking Sam and Cassel in the chest, knocking them to the floor.

Cassel managed to struggle to his feet, letting out a scream.
“NOOOOOOOO!”

A man in a full black body suit, face completely covered, pulled his arm away from Lancaster’s head. A blood covered blade moved with it.

“YOU SONUVABITCH!!!” Cassel pulled a blaster from his shoulder holder and began firing. Every shot hit its target, and every shot absolved into their armor.

One man pulled a knife from a scabbard and threw it. Inches away, Cassel felt someone run into him. He let out a curse as he crashed to the ground, Sam landing on him.
Cassel shoved Sam away and stood up. He stepped into the room, blaster leveled on the closest man. Movement in the corner caught his eye. One of the others pulled a small grey ball out of his hand and slammed it on the ground.Cassel coughed and closed his eyes as the room was engulfed in smoke. After a few moments, the room cleared, revealing Cassel to be alone in the room with Lancaster’s dead body.


“Where did they go?”


Sam walked in, holding his side. “They’re gone. That’s why they are called Shadow Troops. They are proficient at being invisible, even more so then normal Agents like me.”


“These guys are from the same group as you?”


Sam nodded, covered his mouth to cough. “They were better than us. They passed aptitude tests that qualified them for the program.”


Sam coughed again and wiped something wet on his shirt.

“How many were there?”


Sam thought for a few seconds. “I think there was about fifteen when they left.”


“So there are only fourteen now?”


Sam doubled over as a wet sounding hack caused him to convulse for a few seconds. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, still doubled over. “They are very…persuasive. They have a way of making others believe in their cause.”


“So they could get the other Legion to join them if they wanted?” Sam nodded and began coughing again. “Are you ok?” Cassel asked. He walked over to help Sam up. He gasped in horror to see the blood.


“Sam! What happened?”


Before he could answer, another cough attack hit, sending sprays of blood on the ground.


“We need to get you to the infirmary.” Cassel said, placing an arm around Sam’s shoulders.


“Yea….” Sam mumbled. “You’re right.”


The edges of Sam’s vision began going black. As he struggled to breathe, he touched his side.


“The blasts.”


“Those orbs?”


Sam nodded. “Riot control guns. They knew….. I was here……didn’t want to…..kill me.” Sam coughed some more, spraying more blood on the floor.
“Two shots….hit my chest…..cracked ribs on the right…..one….one….” Sam hacked some more as the dark crept more into his vision.

Cassel’s eyes widened as he realized what Sam was trying to say. “One of them has punctured a lung!” Sam nodded.


“Ding….ding…..ding….”


With a huge grin on his face revealing his blood covered teeth, Sam closed his eyes and slumped to the floor.

Now the plot is really starting to thicken...will Sam be able to recover enough to get to the bottom of yet another mission that shows more than a small time job?