I returned to my quarters to take a quick breather before radio-ing in to address the government about the situation we have here. What we have faced and are currently dealing with.

I pressed my hands on either side of my temple and rubbed the ache that was pounding just beneath the skin and silenced the voices at the back of my mind.

You're no leader

You've failed them, you've failed all of them, just like how you failed your dear friend Leonard and his bitch daughter.

You broke your promise to him.

You deserve this, you deserve all that is going to come to you and The Elite Strike Force for your arrogance and ignorance.
"Shut it!" I yelled in my authoritative voice and found myself panting in short breaths with cold sweat dripping down my forehead.

After recollecting myself, my eyes fixed on the radio assembled at my desk, and I began to fiddle with dials and buttons.

"This is Colonel Hitchen from base 205196, do you read me?"

No response.

So I repeated myself.

"This is Colonel Hitchen from base 205196, do you read me?"
Again. Silence.

But then; I got an answer.
"Colonel, good to hear your voice again."

I chuckled softly. "I could say the same thing myself, Sage."

Sage. The director of the arsenal, a mighty fine General of tactical warfare, and a trusted friend.

He taught me everything I know, trained me, and gave me strength and courage. My rock.

"You know this radio was set in place for status reports, not personal phone calls. So out with it, what's the situation update on The Resistance?"

I felt my throat go dry as I recollected all the events, all the wrong moves and choices, why we were losing this battle, and how we would not survive a war. "Not good... For months now The Resistance has been raiding our supply chains, everyone under my command will starve and be completely defenseless without weapons and gear. I request an urgent delivery of food, fresh water, weapons, ammunition, and protective gear. Alongside our supply issues... The Resistance has recruited one of my best Privates, she knows everything about our operations and will continue to give them information on how to bring us down. I... I dug our graves, Sage..."

Again there was silence, I willed myself to keep fighting the tears, hide the lump in my throat that wanted my voice to break. I'm desperate for aid.

"Colonel... as much as I want to help you, I can't. I'll only waste more supplies on you and the others at 205196. With one of your own turned against you, she will destroy you with the help of The Resistance. At first, they were nothing but bugs that got lucky, you could've killed them all months ago. But you failed. Now they're working with your best Private who knows the ins and outs of 205196. You and your men will fall with or without my aid. I did try to warn you that this would happen if you continued to play your men like pawns knowing they may not return as The Resistance grew stronger and bolder. You're held in checkmate here my friend and I can do nothing but follow protocol. You're on your own, I bid you good luck, Rhys... General Sage, over and out."

I choked on my breath as I heard static on the other side of the line and I finally let those tears out, finally stopped forcing that lump down my throat, and let it break my voice as I seethed the words. "F-fuck you."

He did warn you.
You're on your own.
It hurts to be betrayed by your friends, now, doesn't it?
You will get the death you deserve.

"No... shut up, shut up, shut up."

Again I pressed my hands to either side of my head and tugged fistfuls of hair, hoping my mind would focus on the sharp, stinging pain instead of what lies ahead for the future of The Elite Strike Force.

You've doomed not just yourself, Rhys. But all of your men.
They will fall with you.

My head spun towards the door upon hearing a loud series of knocks. I cracked the door open just enough for the person on the other side to gain entry. Quickly, I took a few steps back and readied my fists for a fight should I need to defend myself.

The person slowly pushed open the door and I slowly lowered my guard.

"Sergeant?"

"Yeah, it's me. I heard yelling, who are you talking to? Is everything okay in here?"

I gave him a nod.

"Bullshit; your eyes are red and puffy, your cheeks are streaked with tears, and your voice alone sounds hoarse. You're not okay. Either you tell me what's going on right now or nothing will get done tonight in terms of duties that are yet to be assigned and completed."

"The longer you stay, the longer you leave this place unguarded. Return to dispatching men and women to their posts."

He shook his head, sat me down on my bed, and slapped the side of my face. "What the fuck?!"

"You need to snap out of whatever this is and do your job! I am responsible for training these men and women you speak of! It isn't my right to dispatch them carelessly the way that you do! You create order! I maintain it! That's how it works! I understand the circumstances and challenges that we are facing. But you need to get your head back in the game before it destroys you. So please, as a friend, talk this nonsense out with me. I will not be going anywhere until you speak."

I just glared at him and pressed a hand to my cheek where it was indeed turning red and stung. "Is this seriously the game we are playing, Sergeant?"

"It is. So speak."

I sighed and sat in silence. I didn't want to trouble him any more than he already is.

"No. Get back to work."

He growled in frustration, his patience has always been thin and I'm dancing on that wire. "And to think I admired you, wanted to become you. But I see the truth, you're no leader. You're a fallen king who's just been played right into a setup. If you don't wake up soon, we're all dead." He sighed and spun on his heel. "You know where to find me if you want to talk it out."

His footsteps faded out into the night beyond the comfort of these four walls.

I palmed my eyes and threw my back down harshly against the rickety old spring mattress beneath me.

"I can't do this anymore..."

⌖ ⌖ ⌖

I don't recall when I fell asleep, only that I did as I woke up to the sound of distress and panic from the quarters on my left.

Lieutenant Davis.

I sighed, picked myself up, and went to investigate.

Gently, I pressed the back of my knuckles against the door.

There was a loud thud followed by a groan and the sound of him scrambling off the hardwood floor to open the door.

He cracked it open just enough for me to see his eyes. Red. Puffy.

He too had been crying.

"Lieutenant?"

He lowered his head and shook it softly, I barely heard his words as he spoke with a desperate broken voice.

"It's Lily... she's MIA..."

"What?..." I took a minute to process his words.

The fact that he used Lieutenant Willow's first name was enough to tell me that this is serious. I have a broken bishop and a captured pawn.

This only shows that my leadership will only continue to bring us closer to our doom.

"I'll track her down."

He shook his head at me before I offered my plan.

"No. WE will track her down... as a team... I said some- pretty hurtful things to her and- I owe her the biggest fucking apology in the world. Night watchers saw her run off into the scout routes, most likely to clear her head. God, she loves taking walks through there, but now they're a danger zone, she could be in serious trouble... and I am to blame."

I reached in, sat a hand on his shoulder, and shook my head. "It's not your fault... it's mine."

He looked at me like a kicked puppy and pushed the door wide open. "I'll get Private Riley, you get Sergeant Collins. I am not leaving her in there alone, unguarded, and in the worst fucking headspace."

"Okay." That was all I could say. Lieutenants Davis and Willow are like two peas in a pod. One can not exist without the other. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he's hurting. Whatever went down, it affected them both negatively.