//------------------------------//
// Chapter 16: Discretion Is Advised 
// Story: The Ones From Beyond 
// by Lordvessel 
//------------------------------//

The choices Andrew has decided to undertake can have drastic consequences, but he is willing to accept the risks. His old friend and comrade Viktor remains unconvinced of Andrew's decision, and wishes him to reconsider. Only fate will tell whether the outcome will go in Andrew's favor, he could only pray it could go according to plan................................................




The remainder of the ride was quiet, with Andrew and Viktor glaring at one another the whole way there, only guessing what was going through the other's head. Andrew said they would discuss it in private once they arrived. Since then, twenty minutes passed by before they finally arrived at the facility. When the LAV ramp lowered and the two got out, Viktor instructed his team to get all their things unloaded and stored somewhere while he talked Andrew. Andrew desperately needed this to stay a secret, at least for the meantime. The only place with a hint of privacy available to him was his quarters, and thus the two made a hasty retreat towards it. After a quiet elevator ride and quick walk down a hallway, the two entered the room and closed the door behind them. 
Their was quick look around the room to see if they were alone, which they were. Andrew took a seat in the chair behind his desk and then looked to Viktor, who was currently being washed in floods of disbelief. The first words to come out of Viktor's mouth were.

"Are you fucked up in the head?!"

The remark gave Andrew a clear indicator how this conversation was going to go and that he'd have to do some pretty heavy persuasion.

"Look, Vik. I know what you're thinking."

"Then allow me to indulge your senses. The Commander-in-Chief, Councilor of the Militia, and highest ranking officer humanity has left leads the troops, he does not go on mission with them and he most certainly doesn't step through a fucking portal into god knows where!"

"Oh, don't give me that shit! I remember pretty damn well that Commander Rashid took part in the search and sweep ops in Tehran and Baku back when he was Commander."

"That was a different time, Andrew, and you know it. Back then, it was just us soldiers trying to get back on our feet. Once things got stabilized Rashid stopped going out into the field so that he could orchestrate operations more effectively. I shouldn't have to tell you things are different now!"

"Are they?! You act as if our "government" is stable enough for me to sit one out! But It's a still just a temporary alliance like it's always been, and what's worse is that with current supplies, it's about to be on the verge of collapse!"

"So what, you wish to see it fall apart then!?"

"No, I'm trying to save it!"

"How the hell is getting yourself killed going to save it!"

The two both realized that they were practically screaming at each other. They both took a moment to recollect their thoughts. Viktor started getting the feeling that there was some sort of rational reasoning behind his friend's decision, otherwise he wouldn't be so adamant in defending it. But unlike the old days, years of experience and being in the political circle had taught Andrew the need to withhold information, and it looked as if only honesty was going to convince his friend.

"Vik, I need you to just trust me on this one." Andrew urged.

"You know that's not going to happen." Vik made known.

"Then hear me out." 

A hush fell over the room. Then Vik broke it.

"Fine, but you better have a pretty damn good reason for this, because as far as I'm concerned, you have gone crazy."

"Look! We don't know what's on the other side. It could be anything." said Andrew.

"That is precisely why you have no business going through that thing! Blyat! Andrew, have you gone suicidal?! You realize that if something over there kills you, everyone, I repeat, everyone back home will feel the impact. It could very well tarnish the Militia's reputation, and cause a shift in the power balance. And let's not forget the more important thing!"

"Which is?!"

"Vy tupaya svoloch'! Your family! What about Jess!? Huh?! What about your son!? How do you think they'll react if something happens to you!? If this is some pitiful attempt to relive the glory days it's in very-"

"THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME!" 

Andrew sat silently, glaring at his old friend. Despite currently being at odds with him about the matter, he made a good point. If he died, the outcome would be bad. The political environment was already unstable as it was with shortages, when news of Andrew's death got out, it would spread like wildfire, with the story constantly changing paths to the point where no one could say for certain what actually happened. The outcome would benefit nobody in any scenario. Events could take turns down a million different paths and every one of them be terrible for mankind. 
Jess would be distraught with grief and left with an unclear explanation as to why he did it. Jake would live the rest of his life without a father. The one thing Andrew wished for his son was the family he never had, and it was important that Andrew see to it that it remain that way. Both of them could be subjected to political backlash, and both could suffer harm if the situation turned into public unrest.
While the concern and love for his family brought about doubts and the risks of putting them through what would happen should he die were innumerable, his conscience told him that the answer to all of humanity's problems lied within the reach of the portal, almost as if it lied directly on the other side. It would be easy to just wait for another fireteam to become available and order them to be reassigned from the safety of his command center in New Damascus. But Andrew had the insatiable need to be present for when they encountered the other side. No, he needed to be there, boots on the ground. The hunch he got from the moment he had been informed of the incident in the comms room had turned into inescapable instinct. Every time he got near the portal his senses kicked into high gear, telling him that whatever's on the other side would somehow change everything. But it was clear that his friend still needed persuading.

"Vik, Let me make it clear to you. I'm not doing this for myself and I'm not out of my mind. But every damn bone in my body tells me whatever's on the other side of that thing might just be the answer we're looking for, and that it is just waiting there, up for grabs." Andrew said, getting up from his seat.

Viktor's expression changed to a more inquisitive curiousness, as Andrew was finally informing him of the much needed details to convince him.

"So, there's more to it then, this isn't just about that missing man anymore, is it?" Vik asked.

"Yeah, there's more to it. What happened to Berfield is unfortunate, but there's more pressing issues that take more priority over rescuing some scout. We need to focus on obtaining food and water and scavenging is just not cutting it anymore. The soil is too irradiated to grow from, and pure water is almost impossible to find."

"What makes you think this portal can solve our crisis, Andrew?"

"Look, whatever's on the other side hasn't even been observed, if by chance the environment is stable enough to support agriculture materials, or hell, human growth, we need to act fast. Resources are being used up faster than we can replace them, and if we wait too long we'll be up shit creek without a boat. We can't hold out for much longer!"

"So, is this no longer a rescue mission?"

"No, it is, we'll still have to find Berfield, if he's still alive, but if we can't find a trace of his whereabouts we'll have to call it off. The portal needs to be used to alleviate the crisis."

Viktor stood in quietly, taking the time he needed to analyze the case Andrew was making. The inner process of Vik's mind deciphered all the strong points he made, but he couldn't simply ignore all the weak ones. The lack of evidence to Andrew's claim crippled his argument. Fact was every world encountered prior was uninhabitable and there was no reason to believe that this one would be any different.

"Andrew, I want to believe you, but this is all sounding like wishful thinking." Vik said honestly. "There's a very slim chance of finding the one world that has everything we need. I know we're desperate, but you're putting your hopes to high. Look, let us handle this, your days in the field are over."

Vik turned around and began to head for the door. Andrew grew frustrated at the fact that his friend still wasn't convinced. 

"God dammit, Vik! I haven't felt this certain about something since Kashgar!"

That made Viktor stop in his track.

"You remember, don't you?" Andrew inquired.

Viktor turned around, approaching Andrew once again."

"How can I forget." Vik said.

The event is something neither of them could forget. What Andrew referred to was widely known among the remainder of man, but Vik witnessed it, and Andrew was the man who mostly responsible for it happening. It was the first mission the two were assigned together, how they met, how their names became popular, and how the sense of unity among mankind was truly born.
It was about 18 years ago, only ten months after the truce had been declared. Animosity towards former enemies was still a recurring problem within the ranks. Back then The Survivors was a nameless entity, only numbering 400 out of a collective rabble of American, Russian, and Arab fighters. Fights were common, and some had almost deteriorate into full fledged firefights. Back then a Kurd named Commander Jehat Rashid, Former YPG captain and battle-hardened warrior, took the role of bringing the men under one flag, so to speak. It was a job that was much more difficult back then it was now. At the time, he sent a platoon of 40 soldiers East, with orders to find food, water, equipment, and if possible survivors. The belief back then was that those 400 were the last mankind had to offer in the empty and desolate world they had created. What they discovered in Kashgar would have almost confirmed that assumption, if not for Andrew's gut instincts.
Kashgar, a city in the western province of China, was the fifth settlement the small group of soldiers came across. What both Andrew and Vik remembered was that it had been the site of one of the most brutal atrocities committed during the war. When war first broke out, the Arabs that lived there rose up against the oppressive Chinese government they had lived under for decades. They saw it as the opportunity for the independence and the return to Islamic led rule, but the Chinese saw it as defiance. As a result, The Chinese had the entire city was carpet bombed until it was nothing more than an endless stretch of rubble and corpses. Those that survived the bombings were broken and unorganized. PLA soldiers faced no difficulty as they began to round up and execute any survivors they could find. The way they killed them left a haunting impact in both Andrew and Viktor alike. These Arabs wouldn't go out the by the traditional firing sqaud, they would serve as a message to China's enemies and a reminder to those who would dare challenge the state. The sight skeletal bodies intricately bound together by metal cable in massive mounds, with bones blackened and charred, with some beginning to crumble to ash gave a clear indication that they were burned alive. These mounds would consist of well over thirty people, and they littered across the war torn streets in the hundreds. 
This only bolstered the belief that the city was completely devoid of human life, and as days passed, many of the men gave up on the search for survivors. They instead focused on scavenging, though the supplies they found amongst the ruins were minimal at best, and even though the city was never a site of nuclear detonation, the mutant threat level was substantial. Over the course of a month, the platoon searched and scoured the city in sections, and during the entire midst of it, Andrew grew doubtful whether everyone who lived here died with The Conflict. Whenever they'd go scavenging he would start to notice things that were out of place. Objects that left fresh trace marks in the sand, cans sometimes rolling across the floor at random, and fresh shell casings on the ground,. These were just small indicators of a human presence, what really cemented Andrew's suspicions was when they'd leave a supply cache for a patrol to pick, only to find the next day that it had been torn open with it's contents raided. Andrew vocalized the possibility of survivors, but his case fell upon deaf ears. The other men called him crazy, saying that a mutant could have easily raided the supplies or the occasional sandstorm could have moved those objects around. Despite the other's doubts, Andrew couldn't escape the feeling that someone might still be alive. Every day, he swore he saw something moving in the corner of his eye or a footprint in the sand. But when he'd turn for a better look, there would be nothing.
It all came to a close on the night before they were supposed to pull out and head home, Andrew, under the cover of night, attempted to sneak out and do one last search for survivors. He managed to reach the edge of where they made camp when Vik, who was assigned to guard duty that night, stopped him. They argued bitterly in hushed tones, but still managed to wake up five other soldiers nearby. Andrew argued that there were people out there, somewhere, and that they needed to find them. He made it evidently clear that he wasn't going to let this go, saying he'd look for them himself if need be. Back then, Vik and Andrew were reluctant acquaintances. Vik threatened to shoot Andrew for desertion, but that didn't deter Andrew from his course. Andrew continued with his mission, with Vik and the others deciding to follow him, wanting make sure he didn't get himself killed. They had hoped that with enough time and uneventful searching, Andrew would come back to his senses.
Andrew, Vik, and the other men went scouting amongst the southeastern section of the city ruins. It was about 0400 when Andrew stopped dead in his tracks, spotting some loose tarp hanging over a collapsed building. Curious, he pulled the tarp back, and saw only more rubble at first. But as he looked closer he noticed something off about it. He spotted a small crevice, roughly about the size of a soccer ball, between two wedged in sections of concrete wall. As he and the other men began to move the sections of heavy rubble, they noticed the signs of a caved in section of housing. Once the hole was big enough, Andrew, followed by Viktor, and the everyone else jumped down. They came across two small tunnels that went on for several meters in both directions had been built through the walls of someone's small cellar. Now fully aware that it was clearly man made, he called for his sqaud to gather to initiate a search. The sqaud split up, With Andrew, Vik, and another soldier named Wells, taking one side of the tunnel and the rest taking the other.
They crawled and crouch-walked for about an hour, the tunnel itself was only 4 ft tall in wide, so traversing it was rather difficult for them. Along the way they passed makeshift light fixtures, multiple hidden exits and entrances, and came across many turns that led them deeper and deeper underground. All of this gave them a clear indicator that Andrew had been right. There were survivors, but whether they were friendly or not remained to be seen. It wasn't too long before they came across the source of it all. The final opening of tunnel capped out into yet another underground cellar, this one being much larger than the one before. There only was a single door in sight, which stood facing opposite of the tunnel entrance. Vik and Wells stood with guns aimed and ready for whatever was waiting on the other side. Andrew opened the door slowly, checking to see if any threats were inside. He instantly noticed that the tables were flipped over, with tops facing the door. Tin cans and glass covered the floor. Andrew figured out the signs quickly, this was an ambush spot. Not even two seconds passed before someone got the jump on him. His attacker was armed, as the cocking of shotgun was the first thing he heard. When Andrew turned to take a look, what he saw shocked him to his core. Vik and Wells were about to engage his attacker when Andrew yelled at them to stop.
The attacker was a child, an Arabic boy who had to have been no older than eight. The condition he was in was horrendous, a true testament to the hell he had been forced to live in. He was malnourished, with little muscle on his bones, and wore nothing more than an tattered t-shirt that was way too big for him and scavenged pair of boots. Initially, the boy's eyes expressed fear and anger, like a wild animal trapped in a corner, but that slowly began to change. Andrew spoke in a calm demeanor for him to lower his gun, saying that they were there to help, to get them out of there and take them someplace safe. The kid did as he was told, but then unexpectedly broke out into tears. His gun dropped to the floor and he clung to Andrew for dear life, almost refusing to let go. As Andrew and his comrades looked around they noticed that others soon emerged from hiding. There were about 20 of them, all children, all young, all in just a bad of state as the boy who clung to Andrew.
Were something like this were happen today it just be seen as man doing his newfound duty for fellow man, but what made this event so significant was that these children happened to be the first survivors ever found after the truce was declared, debunking the belief that these soldiers were the last to survive the war. It brought about a sense of guilt in them all that they believed needed to be redeemed. Looking at the state these kids were in, the fact that ones so young and innocent suffered from a war that had no winner, showed no mercy, and that they helped prolong rekindled the little humanity that this group of battle hardened soldiers had left. Even after the years of hate and prejudice towards their former enemies that grew and festered, they were willing to put all personal grudges aside for the sake of these children's survival as well as that of fellow man. It made the bigger picture clear , and the sense of unity that mankind desperately needed was finally being embraced by even the most cynical of souls, and the belief only grew stronger as the years passed. As more survivors were found, the shell of animosity born from The Conflict faded from their point of view.
That gut feeling hunch of Andrew's led to every aspect of life and survival changing, and he was mostly credited for it. The fact that he was comparing his case to the one he had in Kashgar told just how dead set he was about it. Viktor was still conflicted on how to feel. The comparison added heavy weight to Andrew's argument. There was little evidence to support his beliefs, but it had been the same circumstances in Kashgar, and every knew how that turned out. Viktor approached Andrew, leaning over him and placing both hands on his desk. Unsmiling, Viktor looked him straight in the eye and addressed his question in a grave tone.

"Give me a straight answer. Are you certain about this? Because you need to be certain about this."

"God as my witness, yes, I am dead certain about this." Andrew replied in an equally grave tone.

Silence once again ensued. The two just looked at one another the whole time, humorless and resolute in their expressions. The silence lasted a full minute before Viktor broke it.

"Alright. I'll trust you on this one." 

Andrew felt satisfied upon his friend's reply, glad to know they were both on the same page about this. Andrew let Viktor know of his gratitude with a simple.

"Thank you." 

"I pray that you're right Andrew,, or there will be hell to pay."

"I know what's at stake, but we're running out of options. And if I'm wrong, I'll take full responsibility for my actions."

"Should we tell that Science Councilor about it? You know, Ed's kid?"

"No, I'm not entirely sure he'll support it. Besides, if I get caught, Patel and the others will probably think we were in league together, it's best he have nothing to do with it."

"Fair enough, but what about the Sergeant?"

Viktor brought up a good point. Andrew was going to need her cooperation if this was going to work. He'd need an actual fireteam to lead, so he guess it would have to be her and four of her best men that he'd be leading through the portal. The odds of her approval of this seemed to lean in Andrew's favor. She had already voiced the night prior how she felt it was their duty rescue one of their own, but he wasn't entirely sure how she'd feel about accompanying the Commander-in-Chief on highly dangerous operation. Would she think it was too dangerous for him, would she be nervous, eager, Andrew couldn't say. He didn't just want to order her to do it, he wanted it to be voluntary. If she was opposed to the move in any sort, she could easily make the information known to the personnel on site, destroying any chance of it staying out of the council's knowledge. 
Regardless, she would have to be made aware of the idea, one way or another. Whether or not it would proceed at all depended on her support. Andrew could only hope that it would be in his favor, and if she would oppose it, he'd have to convince her. All of a sudden Andrew's thought process ceased as a knock came from the door.

"Yes?" Andrew asked blatantly.

"Sergeant Martinez, sir." she replied, muffled by the door separating them. "I have an update on the operation preparations. Permission to come in, sir?"

Andrew hoped to have more time to think on how he'd convey his argument to her, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen. He looked to Viktor, almost as if he was expecting some sort of advice on what to do next. But Viktor just looked at him with arms crossed and a look that said, "you need to do this yourself". 

"Vy idya otvetit?" Viktor asked.

Taking his friend's advice, Andrew answered the hail. It looked as if he was going to do this one on his own.

"Come in, Sergeant."

The door swung open and Sarah stepped into the room, saluting, although it seemed as if the salute came as rather forced. Unbeknownst to Andrew, Sarah was still a little irate that her unit wouldn't be carrying the mission out themselves, a gripe that she felt needed to be subtly released any way she could. She still believed it was her unit that should go, and thoughts of bringing it up crossed through her mind, but she had already been cut off by the Commander the first time, she knew it wasn't her place to decide.
As she stepped inside, Commander Sawyer sat behind his desk and a man in tactical gear closed the door behind her. She didn't recognize the latter in the slightest.

"Commander Sawyer." She addressed. "And..."

"Colonel Antonov, you must be Sergeant Martinez, yes?" Viktor addressed. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Viktor outstretched his hand in a friendly gesture. Sarah accepted it. Judging from his apparel and rank, Sarah guessed he was the leader of one of the fireteams. He definitely looked like how she envisioned a first recon operator would appear, but she still wasn't all that fond of the idea of trusting a stranger to find and rescue someone from their unit. Even if said stranger was First Recon. 
After releasing her grasp from Viktor's hand, she turned to the Commander, ready to inform him on the operational and readiness status of the mission.

"How's progress, Sergeant?" Andrew asked, as he did wish to know how much time he had before the operation began.

"Bradford says that they just finished repairing the communications system, so we'll be able to keep in touch with the fireteams even after they've crossed. At this rate, he said we'll be able to get the operation underway by tomorrow night."

Feelings of enthusiasm and anxiety swept over Andrew simultaneously. He was glad that the mission could finally get underway with little delay, but it meant he didn't have much time left. He needed to get this over with.

"That's good to hear, Sergeant." Andrew stated. "However, due to some recent developments, there's been a change in procedure."

That had Sarah's curiosity peaked, as she wondered if he had changed his mind.

"What kind of changes, sir?" she asked.

"For now, changes that don't leave this room." Andrew replied. "Sergeant,mind taking a seat please."

She did as asked, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of his desk. All the while, the Colonel simply observed. She wondered what this was all about, and why it concerned her. From her point of view the overall vibe she was getting from this was beginning to make her feel as if she was being interrogated. 

"Now Sergeant, I realize I rejected the motion of you and your unit taking part in the rescue operation. However, Colonel Antonov and Fireteam Wolfpack were the only team that was readily available, and I'd like to get this operation underway as soon as possible, but I'm going to need your help to do that."

"I'll be of help any way I can, sir." She replied.

"Well, first I want you hear what I had in mind." Andrew replied. "Now, I partly chose the use of First Recon over 3rd Company on account of their superior training and commendable skill set, they're pretty much prepared for, god knows how many situations. However, sending one team on something like this is risky. Even they have difficulty in going in blind. I've looked over your unit's track record since you took the position of commanding officer, and other than a few isolated hiccups, your command's been solid and your combat expertise and discipline have been beneficial to the stability of this region and countless others the 3rd's been stationed to."

Sarah's optimism was rising fast, it was definitely beginning sound as if she would be going on the mission. Andrew went on.

"However, as far as the Council knows, this includes Bradford by the way, two First Recon Fireteams will be entering the portal. Even though that's not gonna happen, they need to believe that First Recon commenced the mission themselves."

"What do you need me to do, sir?" Sarah asked.

"I need you to gather four of your best men. Then, you and those you handpicked will be outfitted as if you were First Recon, Colonel Antonov will provide the equipment we'll need, and I'll go over a final equipment check before we go through."

"So, I'm leading the second Fireteam? If I'm not mistaken sir, I recall fireteams operating with six."

"They do, Sergeant, and you're not leading the team. I am."

The news came to her so suddenly, however her response was just as if not equally sudden.

"I'm in." she simply said.

While both Andrew and Viktor took her response as unforeseen, expecting some sort of protest, Sarah knew why they wanted to keep this a secret.

Word gets out about him going on mission no doubt that bitch Patel and the other limp dicks with her will throw a shit fit. Sarah mentally told herself.

Sarah had a newfound respect for the Commander, seeing the move he was taking as bold, and throwing any sort of bureaucratic formality to the wind. But most of her cooperation definitely had to do with the fat that she and a small portion of her unit would now be able to partake in the rescue operation, even if it meant she wouldn't be leading. And if news got out about this, she could kiss this opportunity goodbye.

"Just like that?" Andrew blatantly asked.

"Yes, sir. It'll be an honor to serve alongside you, and I can have four men picked and ready by tonight."

Andrew and Viktor looked to each other, stupefied by just how easy it was to convince her.

"Uh....very well then, Sergeant." Andrew replied. "Have those four men ready to go and report back to my office at 0100."

"Yes, sir."

Sarah  got up from her chair and saluted. She was about to leave when Andrew stopped her.

"Before you go, I advise you to use discretion, Sergeant. We can't afford any of the scientists or other soldiers who may not be too keen of this idea catching wind of this."

"Of course sir."

"Then I have nothing further to say. You have your orders Sergeant, see to it."

With that she exited the room, Leaving Viktor and Andrew to make of what they would about her cooperation.

"Well, that was easy." Vik said.

"No kidding, I thought for sure I was going to have to do some explaining as to why I was going."

"Perhaps she was just satisfied that she'll be a part of all this." Vik suggested.

"Well, regardless of her reasoning, all that's left is keeping this under the radar till tomorrow night. Let's hope to God we don't get caught." Andrew said.




The room was bustling with almost the entirety of men stationed on site, insistently barraging her with the same question, "Who's gonna go?" Sarah could barely hear herself think, let alone answer them. She got fed up with it to the point where she had to scream."

"HEY! YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS WANT THE EGGHEADS DOWNSTAIRS TO HEAR YOU!?! SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The outburst by their CO made the men settle down. They were all on the 28th floor, in the room where a dormant portal lied. It more or less became the hangout for when the guys would go on break. The scientists never came to the floor on account that their attention was focused on the portal downstairs, but odds were that if everyone was screaming and yelling at once the scientists downstairs would be able to hear the commotion. It was currently 2100 at night, but Bradford had some of the staff working around the clock to get the device ready to open by tomorrow night. Most of the scientists were asleep, and
Despite the Commander's worries of this leaking out, Sarah knew her men well enough that they'd never snitch to the scientists or the Council, especially to Bradford, to which they had all grown to hate since the moment he had arrived. Her real concern was who to choose, half of the company was still at Outpost Bravo, meaning she was limited to the personnel stationed here. Despite her and the 3rd's willingness, it didn't hide the fact that whatever was on the other side could prove to be dangerous, so she would need to pick people who were both skilled and reliable. 

"Who's gonna go Sarge?" Nick asked.

"I don't know Barkley, I still haven't decided, but I want you all to realize that this needs to stay out of earshot, that means don't talk about it, don't mention it to the scientists, and for god's sake don't tell Bradford. As far as everyone here is concerned, this meeting never happened, clear?"

The group came into a general agreement on that.

"Now, I need the best this group has to offer."

"Say no more Sarge! The cavalry is ready to kick ass! " Francis boasted.

"Francis, you're the last person that I'd choose." Sarah put bluntly.

"Why?"

"Uh, You're the biggest chucklefuck I know." said Sarah.

"You're obnoxious and annoying." Nick added in.

"You're loud and your jokes suck." Private McDowell claimed.

"Your dick is small and you need that M60 to compensate." Nazif also put in.

The group laughed as the conversation slowly derailed into a roast for Vanhart, who didn't find it so humorous. It got a smile out of Sarah, but she was quick to get things back on track. 

"Alright guys, enough of that. Now, I unfortunately can't bring all of you on the mission, so if you don't get picked don't take it personal."

Assorting through the ranks in her head, the first thing Sarah considered was if someone got hurt, and if so she'd need a good combat medic at the ready at all times. Private Lucas D. Lamond would be the one to go to for that. One of the thirteen company medics on site and probably the one of the most combat history. He was an American man who stood at about 5'9'. He was in his mid twenties, with a brown duck-tail beard, hardened expression, and a no-nonsense personality. He spoke with a deep Brooklyn accent and respectively wore a an old multi-cam Yankees baseball cap with an ERDL jacket and USMC MARPAT pants, and carried AKS-74u slung to his side. He grew up in the ruins of New York City, which practically was a war zone within a war zone. From what he told of his past, The whole region was crawling with mutants, gangs of raiders, and US military remnants. One had to be tough, brutal, and willing to do whatever it took to survive in a place like that, making him the prime candidate in Sarah's search.

"Lamond, how's a trip to the other side sound?" Sarah asked.

The other men backed away from Lucas, who stood at the heart of the group. He had the attention of all present.

"Can't be any worse than where I grew up, besides, somebody's gotta make sure we don't all die. Might make for a good story, you know, if we survive." he replied.

Lamond knew how to patch people up and fight simultaneously, the next man she'd pick would have to know how fight on a distinguished level. Going through a list of subordinates in her head, one name came to mind. Corporal Dean Harris. One wouldn't normally associate the company's psyche counselor for a fighter, but Harris fought on a level that sometimes came across as scary.
Harris was a white male in his late twenties, standing at 5'11', wearing a torn up UCP covered helmet, an olive drab face wrap, Turkish Semi-Digital pants and a desert tan T-shirt. He was possibly Canadian, but aside from that nobody knew anything about his past. Suffering from a possible case of amnesia, the furthest back he could remember was waking up in a Toronto sewer, unable to recall how he got there. Whatever his past had been, part of it had him go through some heavy combat training. He showed signs of distinguished skill in four weapon categories, pistols, knives, assault rifles, and battle rifles. He was always prepared and was definitely the person she would need if shit hit the fan.

"Harris, If things go south I need a man that can fight his way out of hell, you on board?" Sarah offered.

Harris stood up from the chair he was sitting in.

"I've got your back all the way, ma'am." he said.

"Okay, we have a medic, a jack-of-all-trades." Sarah announced. "I think someone able to hit things from long range would be useful."

At that moment it was a contest between Ahab and another man, Cpl. Nathan Brooks, the two best snipers in the company.

"Sarge, c'mon, everyone knows I'm the better shot." Ahab claimed.

"Like hell you are! Sarge, remember last week when I hit that five-legged fuck with one clean shot to head? Ahab wishes he could make a shot like that." Brooks argued.

"Oh from what, like, 100 meters? I could make that shot in my sleep. I for one have taken out targets at at least 800 yards out. One of them just so happened to be a 20 ft Obelisk."

"My ass! With that piece of shit you lug around! You're lying through teeth Al-Kindi and you know it." 

The argument itself was pretty much a test to see who's skill was better, and soon others in the group were beginning to take sides in the argument, voicing there support till the argument turned into yet another incomprehensible mess.

"CAN IT! All of you!" Sarah yelled. "I'll decide who's going. Ahab, Brooks, what are your kill counts?"

"Mutants or raiders?" Ahab asked.

"Both."

The two walked to the back of the room to grab their rifles. Snipers in the militia would always record their shots, a pastime they'd take up, and Ahab and Brooks proved to be no exception. Ahab was the first to walk back, with his worn Romanian PSL in hand, then Brooks, with his bolt action M24. Ahab took a look at the tally marks he carved into the wooden hand guard of the rifle. Brooks' rifle had a small pouch strapped to the stock of his rifle, where he pulled out a tiny slip of paper where he recorded his kills. After about two minutes of going over things, Brooks announced his overall count.

"Recorded, I have about 66 confirmed kills." 

A smirk grew on Ahab's face as he finished his own kill count. Ahab showed him the mark covered hand guard of his rifle, displaying it like a trophy.

"A good effort, Brooks. But I'm standing just a bit taller with 94."

Those who were in favor of Ahab going oohed at his delivery. Both Brooks and Sarah came for a closer look to count for themselves. Sure enough, 94 tallies covered the hand guard. The way Ahab revealed the information came across as a little too showy for Sarah's taste, but she wouldn't deny the skill Ahab had as a marksman. He had played guardian angel on more occasions than Brooks, and had spent more time as a part of the company by a year. Sarah knew they were both capable for the job, but those two factors made Ahab the more favorable choice.

"Sorry, Brooks, looks like he's got you beat." Sarah said.

"Yeah, I guess so." Brooks sighed. "But hey, no hard feelings. Besides if you die, the title of the company's best sniper goes to me."

"True, guess I'll make it my goal to stay alive then, can't have you taking the title as king."

Brooks gave him a friendly slug on the arm and the two laughed it off. Sarah now only had one more man to choose, someone that could survey an area and more importantly track down Berfield. She'd need a scout, and one particular name instantly came to mind.

"Sabbag, I-"

But when Sarah took a look around she suddenly realized he wasn't there.

"Has anyone seen Sabbag?" Sarah asked.

The others all looked at each other and It didn't take long to get a response.

"Last I saw him he was topside, guarding the wall." Nazif said. "But, Sarge, c'mon, Achmed? There's gotta be a better choice than him."

While he wasn't lying, and there were better choices, something told Sarah that if Achmed were to come along it help change some of his recent behavior.

"Trust me when I say I have my reasons, Nazif. I'll leave it at that. Lamond, Harris, Al-kindi, report to the Commander's quarters by 0100 tonight, the rest of you return to your posts and keep this under the radar. As far as everyone's concerned this meeting never happened, clear?"

The men gave their recognition by either a "Yes, Ma'am" or a "Roger". As the men began to disperse and return to their posts, Sarah made her way up to ground level. She needed to talk with Achmed.




Achmed sat on a chair placed atop the makeshift catwalk running along the site's newly constructed concrete wall. Overlooking the endless expanse of the night shrouded wasteland, Achmed found a strange comfort in the mystique of the darkness in front of him. That unfortunately was the only comfort he was receiving this night.
Every since Tim vanished, he felt guilt ridden and ashamed. Day-in and day-out, Achmed wondered if he had accidentally killed his best friend, or whether he'd ever see him again. Suffice to say, Achmed was having an inner war with himself, and it seems hiding the signs wasn't his forte. He had already had three talks with Harris, who was always suggesting he try and do something take his mind off of it, something to ease the stress. It didn't matter what task he would take up, Achmed would still feel the unnerving uncertainty of what may happen. The mission would be initiated tomorrow night, and he felt somewhat helpless to the fact that he would be unable to partake in it. He barely ate and rarely slept. Just last night he did he same thing he was doing now, just sitting staring out at the darkness before him until the sun rose. 
He recalled that Harris urged him to partake in more social based activity, but Achmed only wished for some time alone to think. It's how he usually handled things like this. Recent events sure seemed to be against him at this moment of his life. His mother's disease, the possibility of becoming his sister's guardian, the argument with Tim about him leaving, and to top it off Tim being sucked into another world or possibly killed. The sheer amount of turmoil made it hard to combat the stress of it all. His inner thoughts suddenly ceased when he heard the sound footsteps coming closer. He turned to see that it was the Sarge approaching him.

"Hey, Sabbag." Sarah greeted.

"Hey, Sarge." said Achmed.

"You're all alone I see." 

"Yeah, I needed some time to think."

"Mind if I join you?"

Achmed would have preferred if she didn't, but he knew it was better to just do as asked.

"Sure, g...go ahead." he said timidly. 

Sarah sat in the chair directly beside him.

"Harris has been telling me you've been spending more time alone, thought I'd check in, see how you're holding up."

"Don't worry about me Sarge, this is just my method of dealing with things."

"Well, from my point of view it's cause for concern. You don't usually act like this."

Achmed sighed, now the Sarge was breathing down his neck.

"Look, Sabbag, what's wrong? Tell me, I may be able to help."

"Honestly Sarge, if you want to know why I've been like this it's because of what happened."

"You mean what happened with Berfield? Sabbag, it wasn't your fault."

"Are you kidding me, of course it was! It might have been an accident and nobody's blaming me, but that doesn't deter the fact that I was still the one who activated the damn thing."

The outburst caught Sarah a little off guard, and Achmed continued his stressed ranting.

"This whole time I've been contemplating the possibility that I killed my best friend and whether or not more people are going to die because of what Tim and I discovered. Everyone keeps telling me that I'm not to blame, but I clearly was. I should have done a sweep of the room, instead I got distracted, panicked, and fucked up royally! Now this thing has the Council's attention and when the Commander wanted a debrief all it was like I was pinpointing every damn mistake I made. What's worse is that I have no way of fixing it, it's completely out of my hands and that's what's eating me alive!"

Sarah now saw the bigger picture. She could clearly tell he took what happened to heart and was letting all the guilt eat away at him bit by bit. Whenever him and Berfield got into one of their high jinks Achmed was usually the one who'd tried and fix the situation, almost as if it were his go-to instinct. 

"Well Sabbag, that's not entirely the case anymore." Sarah said.

Achmed gave her a confused look.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"The Commander was only able to acquire one fireteam for the mission, so he'll be leading the second team himself, accompanied by five of our own."

"Wait, did the Council okay that?"

"No, it's not official knowledge, and the scientists can't know about this, if they do, any chance of getting Tim back soon is over."

"Okay, keep it quiet then. So who's all going?"

"Well, he asked me and four others to accompany him for the ride. I chose Harris, Lamond, Al-Kindi,........and you."

That last bit put Achmed into a bewildered stupor.

"Wait, me!?"

"Yes, you, if you're willing."

Achmed now looked incredibly confused.

"Why?!"

"Does it really matter?"

"Id' say so. Sarge, c'mon, me?! There has to be somebody else better for the job."

"Look, Sabbag, I chose you for several reasons."

"Sarge, I'm almost certain I'm one of the worst in the unit. What reason could you possibly have for picking me?"

"You know Berfield better than anyone else here and you're a decent scout, so that gives us a more likely chance of finding him. You know how to handle yourself in a variety of situations, but the main reason I chose you over someone else is because Tim's your friend, you should be present when we get him back. You said yourself you wanted to make up for what happened. This is your chance to do it."

Achmed sat quietly for a moment.

"Are you ordering me to do this?" He asked.

"No, I'm simply asking if you want to come along."

Achmed was silent as he took the offer into account. Many thoughts crossed his mind as he played the scenario out in his head. Would he be able to keep up with the others? Would he screw it all up again as he did before? Would he die on this mission? What would happen if they got caught? Even with his conscience clearly telling him this was a bad idea, something told him she was right. This was the opportunity to make up for what happened and find his friend.

"Alright, Sarge, count me in." he stated in a somewhat optimistic tone.

Sarah gave a satisfied smile.

"Good to hear." she said. "Now, we're all scheduled to meet the Commander in his quarters at 0100, sharp. Make it a priority to be there on time. And remember, don't tell anyone about this."

"Yes, Ma'am."

With that settled, Sarah got up and proceeded elsewhere. Achmed continued to stay seated, turning his attention back to the shrouded wasteland. The inner conflict he felt just a few minutes earlier seemed to be somewhat relieved. The tables had finally turned in his favor, and rather than think about his actions prior, his mind was set on the upcoming future. He smiled, and said quietly to himself.

"I'm not going to screw this one up. Tim, if you're alive, just try and hold out a little longer, we're on our way."