Than falling out of darkness still to see

Without a premonition, could you tell me where we stand?

I'd hate to lose this light before we land

And when I feel like I can feel once again

Let me stay awhile, soak it in awhile

If we can hold on, we can fix what is wrong

Buy a little time for this head of mine

Teamwork. To work together as a team. To unite, to band, to form up close, like strands of steel that protect each other. I remember that time, the time we fooled ourselves into believing Section Two could work together as a team. All of us under one banner…it sounds like something from a romance novel! Maybe even a little ridiculous: get all the Fratellos together for a mission, see what works out, and hope those bonds of steel work. It sounded crazy, but we had no choice. They gave us no choice. They never do.

I answered the phone: "Hillshire here. What's the status?"

"Declining. Kreutz is in his same spot, so you know he's expecting somebody. Alice and Trove are still there as well, with Bankley and Stuart." I pursed my lips together, frowning, frustrated.

"The knights and the rooks…"

"This is no mere game of chess they're playing. Intelligence just started scratching the surface on this thing. I don't wanna involve them—heaven knows they've got enough to worry about in the wake of Raballo's death—but right now we don't have a choice. Not enough information. And yet so dangerous…"

"More complicated by the minute," I added.

"Yeah. We'll keep a lookout and give you the up-to-date. Oh, by the way, you know a woman named Carlisle Lune?" I balked.

"You're asking me? It'd be like asking Newton if he understood second-grade math."

"Okay, so you've heard of her. Rumor has it that she's the queen of this little chess board, if you get my meaning." My gut twisted, like it did when something bad happened…or turned worse. Carlisle Lune…of all the people for us to run into.

"If our target had the kind of money to hire her…"

"I know. That alone might give us leads."

"How did you come about this?" He hissed.

"One of the body bags carried her signature. You could see it in the dark. Forensics isn't gonna like our little present, not that there's any point in them getting involved either." I changed the subject; talking about Lune made me…uncomfortable.

"About those clues you mentioned earlier…"

"Yeah, yeah—like you said, our target's loaded. That means that most of the 'rumors' we've been hearing about his dealings weren't exactly rumors after all."

"So it's true," I growled, clenching my teeth. I had very few fears, but this was one of the ones I never wanted to come alive. If only there were some other way… "He's," I hissed, still unable to believe it, "making…cybernetic implants of his own!"

"Coupled with the dealings in Amsterdam…"

"Don't say it!" I snapped, slamming my hand on the desk. "Don't even suggest it! Just stay on him and the premises! Call me if anything develops. And Lukas? Whatever you do…"

"I know, keep the 'shipments' out of his reach for as long as possible. It's gonna be hard, Hillshire. It's a dilemma for everyone. I'm at risk where I am, and you can't do a damn thing until we figure out what's really going on. Kinda makes you wish you were a dentist, right?" We both hung up, I not one to fancy his jokes. So, those rumors I heard from Mario Bossi were true after all! Cooper Slavie was constructing cybernetic implants and dealing with the child exchange program in Amsterdam. He was going to make his own brand of cybernetic test subjects!

"Damn," I snarled, losing my cool for awhile. "If we only knew more…"

It's difficult for any game to start if all the pieces aren't there on the board.

I had to compose myself. I needed water, ice cold. Then tea, steaming hot. Then a chair, but there was no rest for this weary man. I had to do something, but…

…

The chief of Section Two, Lorenzoni, to Marco: "I see. So even if the validity of Bossi was unsound, this last action has confirmed everything. Hillshire did good to trust his instincts. Now the rest of the operation will fall into Intelligence's hands."

"But you know how hard they're going to have it, sir," argued Marco. "Think about it: Slavie's security is greater than anything a single Fratello can face, or even two or three. And none of our girls are ready for Lune, if she's really there at all." Lorenzoni folded his hands.

"All we can do is sit patiently and watch as the grains of sand slip out of our grasp. To attack now would be futile. Once we've gathered enough information, I'd like to send a team out and stop this before it gets out of hand."

"That too will be difficult," Marco reasoned. "Jean and Rico are in Bern, Angelica's still not fit to move around much, and Jose and Henrietta…"

"All we can hope for is that the pieces come together in our favor. By the time we learn everything necessary, all our operatives may be available. If not, we shall have to work with what we have. Marco."

"Yes sir?"

"Tell your cyborg to rest well. We may need every one of them for this." Marco blinked at him several times, puzzled and a little taken back.

"Um, excuse me sir—every one?"

…

Elsa de Sica approached the door and tried the handle. Locked—the perfect way of saying something worth protecting was in that room. She stepped back, kicked the door at just the right spot with just the right amount of force per square inch—CRACK!—the wood swung wide open, and two shots fired into the room before her targets had time to sit up, gawk, and wonder what was going on. Before they were even on the floor, Elsa whirled around, braids sailing, and shot the man coming up from behind her, hitting him twice. That made three. Just as soon as it had began, it ended. Elsa put her weapon away and exchanged it with a camera, taking shots with film instead of bullets. That should please Lauro.

He only said, "Good. But you shouldn't leave any spare film. Remember that next time." Next time, next time—oh well. They drove off, Lauro speaking into his cell phone. "Lauro here. You don't need to worry about our friends. …Yeah. Send in the usual crew. We're going to—huh? …I…see. …Yes. No, that won't be a problem. …So it was true after all. Hillshire's instincts paid off. …Heh-heh! Did he really? …Okay. …Okay. …All right. We'll be there." Click. To Elsa: "Change of plans. We're to rendezvous with the others at HQ. Seems something large came up."

"Something large?" He nodded indifferently, as if it were no big deal.

"Yeah. A friend of a friend said something about something, that sort of thing. We'll know more when we get there." And by we, Elsa knew that Lauro meant Section Two. It was never…you and I. But…she was sort of part of Section Two, so maybe…

"I understand."

…

Claes took a deep breath as she closed the book, rubbed her eyes, and twisted out the creaks in her neck. It had taken her three days, but finally she finished her book on radio history and maintenance. Soon she would go to Raballo's abandoned old library and exchange it for something else, just as she had so many times before. Triela, who was absently studying a less complex tome, looked up and smiled.

"Hey, finished already? Boy, that was quick."

"Three days is not necessarily a fast read," Claes told her. "But then again, when you're like me, you tend to have an absence of distractions."

"I guess it's a double-edged sword," Triela sighed. "If you're stuck in here, you have more time, but less experience. And if you're out there, you have more to do, but little time for leisure. I honestly don't know which is better." Claes nodded emptily, slipped out of her top bunk, and parted her hair as she headed for the door, book in hand.

"Ultimately, everything must have something good and bad in it. Deciding what is 'better' or 'worse' can sometimes be an exercise in futility. See you later." She walked out the door, leaving Triela to shrug and grow a wavy smile.

"What's she reading now, a dictionary? Maybe I should get my hands on those books too." She went back to her own, vowing to do it later, and only looked up to see somebody coming through her door several minutes later—Claes, of course. She had a vague, glassy look in her eyes, like the time when she learned of her handler's demise. Triela didn't like that look and knew it portended something unpleasant, but why would Claes look that way again, unless…

"Hey, something bothering you?" she asked. Before her roommate responded, Triela noticed the book in her arm. It was the same one she had been reading. Claes never made it to Raballo's room.

"There's… Something's come up," she answered, and gestured to the door. Triela looked up and noticed her handler standing there, serious as always.

"Oh. Um, yes sir?"

"Would you come with me, Triela?" Hillshire asked her. He then, to the blonde's surprise, looked down at Claes and said, "You too. The boss wanted everyone to hear this."

"Me…too?" Both girls looked surprised. Claes never went on missions! What was this about? Was this for real? Of course, the girls obeyed, not that they had much choice…

…

Even walking gave Rico pleasure. To be able to move her legs, her arms, her body, her neck—everything! Blessings were like the sun, like the rain, like soft quiet dark in her room when silence was there to rock her to bed, ushering in another day of mobility for her. To follow Jean—to follow at all—she knew she was lucky. He seemed his usual grave self, but even Jose, who she saw as she came into the conference room, seemed upset about something. Everybody did. Even Claes was there, standing alone, watching from afar.

"Jean?" she whispered. He sat in his chair.

"Yes, what is it?"

"What is…all this?"

"You'll see," he told her tightly. Rico nodded and waited patiently, because he told her to. Soon Marco came in, with all his old comrades—Olga and Priscilla, Giorgio and Amadeo, the whole gang—including Angelica, bound in a wheelchair. Rico was admittedly surprised to see her frail teammate, but pleased as well, and smiled.

"Glad you could make it," said Lorenzoni. "Well, that seems to be everybody, although we're missing…"

"I'm sorry we're late," came a voice from outside the room. The chief turned and made note of Lauro's appearance, and Elsa's. Elsa. So even she was called for this. Unusual.

"Not at all, you're right on time." The chief then focused his attention to the center of the room, as if speaking to everybody, and began the conference. "I requested the attendance of Section Two and all its operatives for a matter of special importance. It seems that Intelligence has uncovered a Pandora's Box of sorts, and one particular Cooper Slavie is just about to open it." A slide show flashed up on a screen, giving everyone visuals of the target and certain sides of his operations.

"It's just been informed to us that the target has indeed trafficked in cybernetic implants, very similar to the ones used by Section Two. He is also trafficking in the illegal child exchange program based in Amsterdam. This has not been confirmed yet, but we've reason to believe that he may start running his own cybernetic test factory very soon, using these two outlets. If he is not stopped…"

"Then we'll have competition," Ferro murmured grimly. She passed every handler some papers, and slid by Claes for a moment, placing her hand on the girl's shoulder and keeping it there for awhile. She resumed speaking to the group, "This is all the information we have on Slavie and his operation. Admittedly it's not much to go on, but enough for us to mount some sort of offensive."

"Us?" whispered Jose. "If by us you mean…who?"

"I mean 'us'," she told him; "all of us."

"Wait a minute!" said Lauro. "If you're saying that all five Fratellos go in there and stop this thing…"

"Six," remedied Ferro, squeezing Claes' shoulder. "We're going to need all the power we can get. While my team will act as indirect support, Alphonso will temporarily step in as Claes' handler. He has agreed to this." From across the room, the blonde Alphonso nodded at Claes and smiled; she just looked away. A stranger to replace Raballo? Alphonso was competent, no question about that, but…

"This is risky," Jose hissed. "It's one thing to send in six Fratello, even with something like this, but with one of the girls in their condition and the other without a handler…"

"We really don't have a choice," Hillshire stated. "Section Two is already too deeply involved, and anything less than everything we have will end in failure."

"This conversation is taking place now to give everyone time to…adjust," added Lorenzoni. "For the moment, we still do not have all the knowledge we need. We'll move out in a week's time. I pray that every operative in this room will have prepared themselves accordingly by then. Dismissed."

"Jose?"

"Yes, Henrietta?" She clammed up briefly before speaking her mind.

"Claes and Angelica…are they going to be all right?"

"I think so, yes. Odds are, we'll have them as backup. You and the others will probably be our main force. There was more discussed between us than what you heard in that room."

"That's not…exactly what I mean, Jose." He smiled sadly and touched her shoulder, making her blush.

"Whatever happens, as long as you and the others care for them, they will be fine. We're not moving out just yet. Spend some time trying to make them feel better." She smiled brightly and nodded, clasping her hands together.

"Okay!"

…

Claes handled Angelica, but she handled herself better. Marco was astray, perhaps in business or perhaps avoiding contact with his partner. That left Claes, the only one of the girls that could honestly say she related to Angelica: how they were both left out, how isolated they felt even amongst their friends, how very incomplete they felt, both in their training and with their handlers. True, Marco was still alive, but the way he treated Angelica, he may as well have been dead. They really had only each other, Claes and Angelica, their companionship a mixture of force, will, and need.

"We're going to have to be very careful," said the blue-haired one absently. "If we're really going to participate in this mission, both of us are going to be in some considerable danger."

"Why both?" asked Angelica. "You're a lot stronger than I am, Claes. Marco, he… Sometimes I feel like he doesn't believe in me." Claes didn't know how to respond. Marco had attached a lot of his future, his Self, onto Angelica's shoulders, yet every moment felt like a tug on his mind, every setback and failure a slap to the face. When she tumbled, his hopes fell with her. She had difficulty getting back to her feet, but it was her handler who had the toughest job. The body could recover; the heart was a different matter.

"You mustn't think that way," she said at last, squeezing her friend's shoulder as she wheeled her back to her room. "Marco does care about you, I've seen it. He's just…stymied. He'll see you in a different light once we finish this."

"You're right," she whispered, smiling beautifully as always. Then, as they walked (or wheeled) down a long sunny hallway, an idea came to Angelica. "Claes?"

"Hmm?"

"If we're to be in danger like you say…let's make a promise to watch out for each other. If one of us is in danger, then the other will go and save her." The bookworm smiled; even being bound in a wheelchair couldn't bind the young girl's heart, nor her courage. Claes figured she'd never get the chance to act good on her word, seeing as how the two of them would be regulated to backup duty, but she still agreed, if only to appease her friend.

"Sounds great. If you're in danger, I'll come rescue you, and if it's me, I'll know I'm in good hands." They smiled and managed to pinky-swear by it, then resumed wading through the still waters of the bright sun peeking through the windows. Upon turning the last corner before entering Angelica's room, the girls happened upon one of their own, who was also heading to her room. It was plain to see that this girl did not want to stop and socialize.

"Hello, Elsa!" said Angelica anyway. Elsa de Sica ignored them and kept walking, but she did stop long enough to issue a warning.

"If you two are coming along, you had better not get in Lauro's way, or you'll regret it." She parted for good, and nobody could honestly say they saw her until it was time to depart. Claes and Angelica exchanged a look, shrugged, and walked on.

…

During the passage of the day, Henrietta shied away from Elsa, spending most of her time with Claes and Angelica. Triela had de Sica backed into a corner and was working her magic; Rico was present, but seemed lost in another world as the other three talked. Angelica had told her and Triela about the promise she had made with Claes, and since it looked to be a tough job this time around, Rico couldn't blame her for taking that friendly precaution. She, Henrietta, Triela, and Elsa could take care of themselves, but the other two… Even under the tutelage of Alphonso and Marco, they would have to be careful. And speaking of which…

"Henrietta?" A knock came at the door. It was Jose. The little girl scrambled to her feet and stood at attention before asking her handler to come in. He looked more serious than usual, his voice tight and concerned. "You'd better get to sleep early. Intelligence just sent the chief everything he needs to launch an offensive. We leave tomorrow morning before dawn."

"Yes Jose. Um, Jose?"

"Yes, Henrietta?"

"Claes and Angelica…um…"

"We'll be fine, sir," Claes told him. Angelica concurred.

"We're going to do our best tomorrow, no matter what!"

"I'm glad to hear that. Well, goodnight girls, Henrietta." His smile lasted long after he closed the door. Henrietta practically beamed as she turned around, hid herself a little, and dressed for bed. Sensing that they had overstayed their welcome, Claes and Angelica excused themselves, leaving the two roommates alone. As Rico dressed, she finally struck up a conversation, though a short one.

"Henrietta?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know anything about a woman named Lune? Jean and the others were talking about her."

"No, I can't say that I do. Why?"

"No reason," she said with a happy smile. "I just heard the name a lot, so I figured it was important. Well, I guess we'll find out tomorrow, won't we?" Henrietta nodded, even though her roommate wouldn't see it. When they went to sleep, they had faint, fuzzy dreams, and woke before they could ever be realized.

…

We had known the location of Slavie's hideout for some time, and recently we learned just who was working for him and what sorts of deals he was into, but we still couldn't make a move until we were certain that he was doing what we anticipated. Much as the government fights the illegal child exchange program and the creation and distribution of cybernetic implants, they're not enough to merit the Social Welfare's intervention. Not even the death of an intelligence agent can do that, though it led us to believe certain things about this new operation. No, we needed proof that Slavie was putting one and one together, and we got it, but at too high a price.

"Sorry, Lukas," I sighed, hanging up the phone. This was bad. If they could trace him to us…

"Sir?" Triela looked curious.

"The intel officer who gave us the information we needed is no longer with us," I explained. "Somehow our target found out about him and had him eliminated. More than likely, they know we're coming. Our difficult job has just gotten harder." She said nothing—after all, what can one say when the odds for victory become smaller? Triela and I, along with Lauro and Elsa, took to the road ahead of the others and were instructed to wait at a designated spot. No sense in sending everybody at once in a convoy; that would just be too suspicious. The others would come by their own means, two Fratello at a time.

When Section Two learned that Slavie was making cybernetically-enhanced children of his own, they set out immediately to shut his operation down and eliminate him. I was chosen to preempt the mission because in all honesty, it had been my baby from the start. I brought it up, I put my hours into it, I gave it life. It only made sense that Triela and I be the vanguard; Elsa and Lauro came not just for their reliability, but also because it seemed Triela and I got along with them best out of everybody.

Once we arrived, the four of us would set up a small base and keep further surveillance on Slavie's operations until the others arrived. Jean and Jose's teams would fly in later and would make their way to the opposite side of Slavie's compound upon arrival; Marco and Alphonso would arrive the next day with Ferro and Amadeo, keeping to the side and watching our backs. I had doubts about Angelica and Claes—not that I was the only one—but the chief had a point. We'd need all the help.

"Sir?" Triela spoke up again after the long silence. She gave a little smile. "We're going to win."

"Hmm. I hope so." I closed my mouth, not intending to open it again unless necessary. I didn't tell Triela or any of the other girls about the truth of the operation—about what Slavie was really doing with those implants. How could I? It would just be a distraction to them, learning there could be others out there just like them. The Social Welfare Agency already had enough heat on them as it was; we didn't need "competition".

…

Cooper Slavie wasn't much to look at, so he had to use his mind and his money to get ahead. He had both in spades; little wonder he was here now, directing his own version of the Social Welfare Agency. His goal was not to enhance the performance of previously-hopeless cases in children in order to further the righteous causes of the government, but quite the opposite: terrorism, extortion, revenge, assassination, counterintelligence, the whole package. He had the mind to make it possible, and the resources to fulfill it, and now with his chessboard all set up, he had the muscle to enforce it.

Alice and Bankley he had known since college. They took their jobs not for the money but for loyalty, and to pay off their own debts to him. Out of everybody who worked in his "factory", Cooper Slavie trusted them the most. They were not good fighters, per se, but a trusted friend was usually more reliable than a good shot, which he also had plenty of. Kreutz was one of the best in the business, and just the kind of man a guy would want: experienced, calm, careful, wise, and just a little on the rough side. Kreutz kept to himself and followed orders, but not without a price.

Trove and Stuart he trusted the least but needed the most. Trove was a man who dealt deeply into the child exchange program—in fact, he was one of the masterminds. To be able to hammer out a deal with Slavie, who he also did not trust, Trove had to be paid a surmountable sum, and was promised at least two functioning units for his own purposes. Stuart dealt with the cybernetic implants, and had been one of the chief scientists and engineers behind the project, until he was removed from his position. The event scarred him, and so he devoted his career to vengeance. He also wanted money, and a unit, and did not like Slavie one bit.

But even these people had their "nets of safety" that Cooper could count on, could exploit if necessary, or cut off without fear of reprisal. Not so with "Crazy" Carlisle Lune, reputed to be the second-best gunner in the world (the number one seed asked for too much, and already had a contract elsewhere). Though painfully taciturn, mysterious, and solitary, there was no questioning her skill or the threat she posed. She had no loyalty to Cooper's organization whatsoever and in fact had not even spoken more than a few words to him during the weeks they had known each other. To say that she was a loose cannon ready to fire would be a grim understatement.

It was not she, however, but Kreutz who killed intelligence agent Lukas. After going through the man's belongings, Slavie's team surmised that this man was a part of secret surveillance, that they were being watched, and that some government agency had it in for them. Of course production was well underway and they couldn't just move to another location, so Cooper had to organize everybody and get ready for a counterassault. He himself was a poor fighter, but the way he commanded everyone indicated he knew what he was doing. Even Carlisle seemed to go along with his plan, though the look in her eye suggested she had a more sinister agenda in mind.

…

Lauro's Fratello and mine arrived two days after we got word that Lukas had been murdered. A dead intelligent agent, while a tragedy, can only mean one thing: that we were on the right track, and somebody didn't want us to know it. We set camp about a kilometer out from Slavie's base of operations, and kept further surveillance on his activities while waiting for the others. Lauro guessed correctly that we would learn a lot more about our mission in this time than we ever had in the past. For one, I learned not to underestimate our enemy. Learn

We quickly found out the identity Slavie's operatives. Kreutz was the one who was usually out the most, keeping watch at all hours of the day, it seemed. Alice and Bankley flanked him or took over for him, but their presence wasn't nearly as intimidating. We surmised that it would be best to strike the compound once Kreutz was away, and set about the best method to do it. One Fratello, we discussed, might be enough to storm them during that time. As for Trove and Stuart, I wasn't worried. They were far less experienced and wouldn't be a problem, unless by some way they had accelerated Slavie's research. That sent the insides of my stomach curdling.

"What research do you mean?" Triela asked me. "What's he hiding in there that's so important to call in all of Section Two?"

"I really…should not tell you," I said. "It would only be a distraction if you knew. Just take my word on it—it's a danger to us." She sighed, looking gloomy, not that I could blame her.

"Yes, sir." How do you tell anyone that the enemy might not only consist of terrorists or Republican Factionists, but is in fact very similar to yourself? My other great fear was that somehow, one of the girls would figure this out—but what would they do if they knew?

"Hillshire? Hillshire, you there?" I cleared the fog from my eyes and nodded at Lauro. "I'm getting some rest. If I stare through binoculars any more today, I'm gonna go sore. Elsa, take over."

"Yes, sir." She stationed herself as lookout. Not thinking it a good idea to leave Triela alone with her, I stayed until nightfall, when the girls retired and Lauro returned to his post. We kept alternating the watch until the Jean and Jose Fratellos confirmed their presence.

Rico's Dragunov SVD needed no further modification, and so it was placed in an area of prominence and kept there, patiently waiting for its first kill. After secretly relaying communications with the two Fratello on the other side of the compound, it was agreed that the strike would commence once Kreutz left his post. Since it was universally believed that Rico was the best sniper, she would be kept back to pick off either Alice or Bankley, whichever came first. That would then be the signal for the three Fratello to close in and clean up, provided that a certain new development didn't show up. If this unforeseeable scenario took place…

"Just be prepared," Jean warned Henrietta as he went over the plan. "Be prepared for anything in there. Rico and I will handle the outer defenses; the pressure's going to be on everyone inside. Kreutz is still a threat, so we need to keep tabs on him."

"And overwhelm him once we've gotten him into a corner?" said Jose. His brother nodded

"Yes. He is not the least of our worries, though, so we'll need to be sharp." Jose looked down, tugged on the Kevlar vest covering his torso, and breathed deeply. Not that any amount of protection could save him from the crosshairs of Crazy Carlisle, but it comforted him, in a small way, knowing it was there.

"Henrietta," he said.

"Yes Jose?"

"Once we storm inside, you'll need to be in top form. I'll cover you, so keep a lookout for any trouble."

"Yes Jose."

A little prayer won't hurt us, either, he reasoned to himself.

The plan was pretty much sealed and ready to be taken into action by the time Marco, Alphonso, and Ferro and her team arrived. These would act as backup in case something went wrong—in other words, said "unforeseeable circumstances" that had Hillshire worried—as they would provide additional firepower and surveillance. Marco was uneasy about this mission, and Alphonso, for all his experience and skill, simply could not get across to Claes, no matter how much he tried. She was adamantly locked in some other reality, where there was no Alphonso or Slavie or even a mission.

"Look," he sighed quietly, "I have no intentions of replacing Captain Raballo or transferring myself as your handler. All I was told was that we would need every unit, including you and Angelica, and that we'd need a volunteer to act as your partner. I didn't know Raballo personally, but I've read his notes and any comments he had while he trained you. I just want you to get it straight: I'm just here for this one thing. However, if you'd like me to be your handler—"

"That won't be necessary," Claes interrupted. "I don't think the Social Welfare Agency or Section Two would allow me outside anyway. I only agreed to go along with this because I also had no choice. 'A sword can only be useful outside its sheath, and it can only go in one destructive direction'." Claes' nihilistic attitude was disturbing, but she had agreed to endure this much at least.

"Odds are," Alphonso murmured before silencing himself, "we won't even be needed. At least I hope that's the case. A drawn sword is tragic in a way."

Now, all the players were on the board. It was only a matter of who would move first.

…

When a King and a rook switched places in chess, it was called castling, and the same could be applied here: Kreutz moved away from his position as lookout in favor of Alice and Bankley, and once he was gone, Jean gave word for Rico to fire. She steadied her Dragunov and aimed the crosshairs at the closest target, which was Bankley. The rifle made a quiet whispering sound as the bullet sailed to its destination; Bankley was dead and on the ground in a matter of moments, the blood flowing well from his skull. Even from their position a kilometer away, Hillshire and Lauro could hear Alice screaming.

"It's started," said the former, peering through his binoculars. He nodded to Triela; she sprinted towards the building at top speed, Elsa close behind her. Ferro was soon warning everyone that alarms were now sounding off on the inside, which meant the Fratellos would soon meet resistance. As Henrietta sprinted off with Jose behind her, Jean gave Rico permission to snuff out the remaining lookout. Alice was soon gone.

Slavie's defense force was larger than anyone had expected, so they were glad they had brought the additional units along with them. Angelica looked at Marco with hopeful eyes as her teammates stormed the building, waiting for his signal. As for Claes, she was impassive and distant, about as close to Alphonso as the dark side of the moon. They remained on standby, however, not wanting to do anything unless given the word by Ferro and the others. On the far side of the property, Rico was busy picking off anyone who climbed up on the roof (or within range at all) to mount a counterattack. Slavie had apparently planned for something like this and had small gun turrets mounted here and there on the roof, but except for some stray crossfire, none of it was any concern.

Henrietta, Triela, and Elsa were soon inside, battling with the first defensive wave. Bullets were vomited out of Henrietta's P90, bodies bursting red until they were black; Elsa and Treila picked people off with a G3A3, and with Rico aiding them from afar and their respective handlers coming in as support, they soon overwhelmed the enemy force.

"Ferro, we're in," Jose said once the smoke cleared.

"I've been keeping tabs on Kreutz. He's on the second floor, the wing farthest from your position. Elsa and Triela should have no problem cornering him. Jose, you and Henrietta pursue Slavie."

"Roger. Well," said he, looking at his fellow handlers, "looks like this is where we part ways. If there are any problems, you all know the rendezvous point, right?"

"Yes," they said. Hillshire added, "Be careful. There's still plenty of resistance in here."

"Right." The Fratellos split up; Elsa preempted Triela as they bounded up the stairs, heeding Ferro's instructions. She was positive she could handle Kreutz alone (or rather, with Lauro behind her), but she wasn't against help, if only for the added defense. After all, two extra pairs of eyes were good for scouting out hidden bodyguards. Finding no resistance so far—perhaps Henrietta was dealing with it, perhaps they were being led into a trap—Elsa and Triela wound through the labyrinth and narrowly missed being riddled with bullets as they rounded a corner (subsequently ducking back behind it). They had apparently found their target. Violent crossfire ensued.

"Defense unit A eliminated, but there's still several groups in there." Ferro's voice was as flat as ever, despite the danger facing the three lone operatives inside. Marco and Alphonso prepared for what she was inevitably going to say: "It looks like they're going to need that backup after all. Mobilize your units immediately."

"Copy that." Alphonso looked at Claes, who (while still in her distant daze) seemed prepared. Angelica was a little pale, but enthusiastic about the job, in spite of Marco's doubts. The two Fratello (or rather the one-and-half) quickly headed for the compound, still hearing thunder from above as Rico's handiwork covered their entrance. They split up once inside, but when Marco and Angelica left, Claes gave Alphonso the cold shoulder and even went so far as to distance herself from him. She ran faster than he could catch up, and with her VP70, took potshots here and there whenever a stray came across her sights.

Tomato can on a wooden post, she chanted to herself. Tomato can on a wooden post. Rainy day. Sunny day. Wait for the fish. Raballo's words. Patience.

She gingerly walked over half a dozen bleeding corpses in her pursuit…

…

Marco caught himself feeling surprised at Angelica. Her balance was good, despite his opinion, and so far she had not only managed to hit all her targets but had killed them all with but a few shots. Loaning her an AK47 might've been his way of protecting her—it was difficult not to be intimidating with such a weapon—but for the time being, his concerns seemed groundless. Her performance was at an apex, just as it had been in the old days, when they both had so many possibilities before them…

"Ferro," he called quietly, "we made it up to the second floor. It's your call where we're headed to next."

"Jose and Henrietta are going after Slavie. They should be in your area."

"Copy that. Angelica, we should—Angelica?" He broke off his words and watched, motionless, as his cyborg sidled next to a steel security door, carefully pressed numbers into the keypad, and opened it with strained care. He murmured, "Angelica, what are you—"

"Something's in here," she said. "I'm sure of it! Marco, could you let me investigate this on my own? I promise I'll be careful and report back if I see anything!"

"But…Angelica…" He was always taken back by her initiative—the first to volunteer, the last to leave, she always was—and though he vaguely wondered how she had been able to get that door open, the main concern was whether or not to adhere to her word.

"Please, Marco!" she said, begging him with irresistible piercing eyes. He stopped to consider this. Maybe this, this very moment, was the defining turn in their career, their relationship. If Angelica could prove herself with this, then why not other missions? He didn't think there was any cause to worry, but just in case, he decided to give her some pointers—and a warning.

"All right, you may investigate. But don't let your guard down for anything. Make sure you keep your back protected as well. Keep your ears open, and make sure if you hear somebody coming, you can distinguish between friend and foe. It seems to be the only way in, so you'll be vulnerable."

"Don't worry!" she assured him, her smile sunny and gay. "I'll do my very best!" She whisked herself inside before he could say anything else, even goodbye. He sighed, but backed off to give her space. He refused to leave the area completely, however, no matter how he felt. He just could not bear the loss…

Not another loss. Not to him. Not now.

What Angelica found in that room shook her to her very core, and beyond that. It was reminiscent of the hospitals the other girls had been found in, or maybe the surgery rooms they went to when they were injured. The room was pure white, with a bed and a table loaded with medical devices, such as a scalpel, some forceps, and gelatinous masses that appeared to be tissue, or…

Or implants. Cybernetic implants. Angelica gasped.

Then, as an alien whisper broke the sterile calm, her blood turned to ice.

Kill me…

"Wh…wh-who's there?" she whimpered. The whisper spoke again—Kill me—hoarse and desperate, like a woman hanging on the last thread of her life, tortured and beaten beyond salvation. This grisly description was not far off the mark: as Angelica turned around to face the speaker, she saw the skeletal remains of a young girl, crawling on the floor, part of her face melted off and one of her arms broken in half, bone and metallic rods protruding from it. She had no legs—her body had been hewn in half, the lower part metallic and grotesque, like the engine of a car. She had fair brown hair and her one eye was green; she wept tears of motor oil, staining her face black.

Of course, Angelica screamed.

"Kill me," muttered the creature, her voice guttural. Again and again she begged Angelica, Kill me, kill me, kill me please. "Kill me… Put me out of…my misery…"

"Who…are you?" managed the young girl, horrified with fear and yes, pity. She might have known just by looking at her—and herself.

"I…am…like…you," groaned the creature, using its only completed arm to lean upwards. "Result…cybernetic testing. I am…Sarah. Please…beg you…put me out of…my misery! I can't…stand…the pain!" Angelica felt her chest constrict and her heart go mad in an attempt to escape its cage—this was a girl just like her! The full realization of what this mission was about struck her, left her for dead, and spat at her remains. Feeling overwhelming sadness for the monster's condition, and maybe her own, Angelica raised her weapon, tears in her eyes, and committed to setting the girl free.

Carlisle Lune heard the gunfire and ran to it like a fly to a stink. Recognizing the sound to be the roar of an AK47, she concealed herself and aimed her Desert Eagle at the door, waiting for whoever was there to show up. To hell with Slavie if it was one of his own; he had given explicit instructions that only Trove, Stuart, and himself were to go in there, and none of them carried that much firepower with them. As a shadow crept across the door and into the hallway, Carlisle aimed her weapon, touching the trigger with firm patience…

Angelica had about 720 nanoseconds to react. The mere sound of a gun going off caused her to snap out of her delirium and raise her arm as a shield. She remembered to cover her eyes, which saved her in the long run: the bullet wedged itself into her forearm, just barely missing her wrist. She let out a yelp and fell, clutching her wound and shivering. Carlisle, meanwhile, was appalled to find she had shot a little girl, and was too shocked to hear a second person run up and point a gun at her.

"Drop your weapon!" Wheeling around, she noticed another girl about as young as the first, her hair dark blue and her eyes glinting faintly as lavender. Angelica raised her head and recognized her, Claes. She had kept her promise! Of course, the two of them together were no match for Carlisle Lune…but fighting them didn't seem to be the woman's priority. With a smile of defeat, she dropped her weapon and raised her hands in surrender. Claes kept her VP70 trained on the older woman as she sidled across the wall to join Angelica.

"You okay?" she asked. Angelica managed to nod.

"It's nothing—just…a scratch."

"We'll have it looked at later." Angelica smiled at her, but in that split second of distraction, Carlisle thrust her hand into her vest and pulled out another handgun, small but powerful. She aimed it right at a surprised Claes for a few tantalizing seconds before dropping it and kicking it across the floor, right into their vicinity. The girls stared at her in amazement before they realized she wasn't going to stop them.

"Go," she said quietly, to confirm it. They stood still, not yet able to understand why she was helping them. Carlisle shouted, "Get out of here!", waved them off, and turned to head in another direction, just as they too picked themselves (and the gun) up and limped away. When Claes asked why Angelica was not with her trainer, all she got was a tied tongue.

"Well, the point is that we're both okay," she said.

"And," added Angelica, "you kept your promise!" Now the smile infected both of them.

"Yeah, you're right. Now you owe me one."

…

Jose and Henrietta now had little to obstruct them from Cooper Slavie. Together they had laid waste to most of his defense force, and were now closing in on the man himself, reputed to be locked up in one of the armory rooms. Hillshire took Triela to rendezvous with them once Kreutz was confirmed dead, and Elsa and Lauro followed suit. Of course, Elsa didn't like following or helping anybody if they weren't Lauro, but if this could prove to him that she was worth more than just a tool, then she would do it and she would do it with excellence.

At that time, Rico finished picking off the outer defenses. A message spread around to the remaining defense force that all members should remain indoors and assist Slavie with defenses, but of course these had been taken care of by Henrietta—or later, Triela and Elsa, so there was virtually nobody left, unless one counted deserters or Carlisle herself. All that was really left was to corner Slavie, which Henrietta pulled off well by discovering his whereabouts (Ferro confirmed it). She, Triela, and Elsa burst through the door, one after the other, their handlers following with weapons trained on their target.

In an effort to save himself, Cooper Slavie put his hands up and surrendered.

"Do it," Lauro commanded. The three units fired until he dropped dead.

"Good work," came Jean's voice over their earpieces. "Rendezvous at the designated spots, but keep a lookout for stragglers."

"Roger." The handlers went ahead, but Elsa was the only girl to follow. Triela and Henrietta remained, studying the bullet-riddled body of their target, still not sure why they had been asked to kill him. Rather than discuss it with each other, they just decided to wait for later and ask their handlers—but of course, they would never find out. Angelica was the only one who knew the truth, and she was too petrified to tell anybody, even Claes and Marco.

Said handler stared at his cyborg with disapproving eyes when they reunited. She just looked away, feeling like she had failed him again.

Claes gave the full report, detailing their encounter with Lune and how they managed to escape. When Angelica was asked what she saw in the room, she requested a private audience with the handlers, wisely choosing not to reveal the dark secret to her friends. Marco got the news himself some time later, and felt bad for glaring so coldly at what he thought had been a botched attempt. Angelica had been through a lot; she least she needed was his disapproval.

"What I can't understand is why Miss Lune let them go like that," Alphonso said while the team waited for their transports to arrive. He got his answer sooner than expected.

"Because I just can't bring myself to hurt kids." The handlers and cyborgs jerked around, startled to see Carlisle Lune right there, in person, glory and danger personified. She just grinned and tipped a cowboy hat she was wearing. "Sorry about your arm; I didn't think we'd get hit by girls. You all something like what Slavie was cooking up?"

"…Um, you could say that," replied Rico.

"Hmm. Strange. Well, sorry again. Here's my repayment. Do with them as you will." She then presented two bundles, or rather, two men bundled up: Trove and Stuart. Before anyone could say anything to her, she excused herself quietly and disappeared into the night, not to be seen by any of them again. In general the mission had been a success, although some people were traumatized by it more than others. All the way on the drive home, Claes pretended Alphonso didn't even exist and instead attended to the wounds that Angelica had—both physical and emotional.

…

The chief of Section Two, Lorenzoni, to Hillshire: "I see. I'm glad the mission went well. I was right to send all the Fratello in on this one. I'd hate to think what would've happened if we hadn't."

"The circumstances this time were in our favor," he replied back to the chief. "It's unusual to see somebody of Lune's caliber having an affection towards children. Her assistance was of course surprising, but it wasn't the…highlight of the day."

"…Yeah." The chief knew what Hillshire was referring to. Angelica's report had been sifted through the eyes and ears of the top brass, and to say that they were concerned, or even disgusted, was fairly accurate. A sweeper team ran through the building shortly after it was cleaned out by Section Two, and no other cyborg units were discovered, operable or otherwise. This was good news, but the one incident was grim enough to earn their apprehension.

"The police will no doubt start cracking down on those involved with the…fronts in question," Lorenzoni resumed, clearing up his haggard voice. "But to have this slip through their defense gives me cause for concern. Something tells me we'll need to keep a few eyes on them. I wonder if Lauro would be interested in a change of scenery."

"You mean to have him watch the police for any signs of corruption?"

"Yes. He'll be up to that, I'm sure. I can discuss it with him later. The units need some time off; they've done an outstanding job. And since there seems to be nothing further to add, you are dismissed, not without commending."

"Thank you, sir." Hillshire saluted and left; Lorenzoni cleared his throat and picked up his phone, dialing Lauro's number. That this happened at all was indication enough that something shady was happening with the police; he needed somebody who understood their inner workings if further scenarios were to be prevented.

"Lauro," he spoke in the phone, "I have a new position opening for you. If you think Elsa is up to it, meet me in my office in ten minutes."

…

From the window of the hospital room, Claes observed Henrietta, Rico, and Triela enjoying the fruits of their labor. Their handlers, even the stiff Hillshire and the grave Jean, had lauded them with rewards for succeeding in a job well done. They deserved it, of course, but Claes couldn't help but feel a little left out. Then again, she had volunteered to watch over Angelica and keep her company. It was really the least she could do, even though the dark-haired young girl did owe her a debt.

"Claes," she whispered, "I want to thank you again for what you did today. I'm…glad I have you to rely on. The next time we're on a mission together, I promise I'll come to your rescue if you need it."

"You don't have to do that," she said, smiling. "Just do your best, follow your handler's advice, and stay safe. That's all I ask for." Angelica beamed warmly, and the two talked or rested in silence until at last Angelica closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep. Claes had intended to go back to her room and read that new book she had picked out, but instead she stayed by her friend's side, even as she slept, and continued watching over her until she woke up, early in the morning, with the sun and a new day ahead for them all.