Day Nineteen ∞ Tuesday afternoon

GRAY WATCHED WITH DREAD and morbid fascination. A part of his mind noted Major Gillibrand was the only one doing the firing—his men didn't seem to share his madness. Another part registered the fact that the bullets disintegrated into a curved ripple a few feet in front of the EBEs—as if they were enclosed by a giant, armored soap bubble.

Lifting his right hand, Gray aimed across the holoprojector and squeezed the trigger. Gillibrand's hands dropped with the rifle, his face frozen with disbelief and incomprehension—and a hole in his forehead. Time seemed to pause for several seconds. Then the major's legs buckled, and he slumped forward to the floor.

Gray rose slowly with the handgun down at his side as General Davies stepped back on stage. Careful to avoid the growing dark pool the body lay in, the general raised his furious voice.

"Lower your weapons, soldiers! This treasonous plot is over! No more blood needs to be spilled. Pursuant to Articles 94, 81, 88, 89, and 91, all of you are charged with the counts of mutiny... conspiracy, contempt, disrespect, and insubordination against your political and military command. Your court-martial shall be convened as soon as possible!"

Gray counted ten rogue soldiers holding the guards at gunpoint, a couple of them grimacing and rubbing their heads. The soldiers hesitated, then slowly dropped their weapons and raised their arms in surrender.

Right on cue, Gray's teams dressed in dark blue uniforms and breastplates flooded the theater and surrounded them, securing their firearms and taking them away. Others formed a perimeter around the auditorium, around the people on stage, and Gray. Several heads reappeared in the audience as they picked themselves off the floor.

General Davies strode to the EBE queen and her entourage as their shields vanished, and spoke to them. Then he approached Gray. "Your decisive action saved a lot of lives tonight, Mister Gray. Your services, as always, are appreciated."

Gray returned the nod, slipping his Luger into the holster under his jacket.

The general turned to the room at large. "I think it's better we all take a fifteen-minute break, then reconvene here to continue. Anything else?"

Nobody replied.

"Well then, we'll be back here in fifteen."

As the audience and most of Gray's sweep team made their way to the exits, the clean-up crew entered via the double doors backstage. Without saying a word, they wrapped Apoc in a body bag, sealed it and took it away. Others sucked the blood dry with a big vacuum cleaner, then mopped the floor and wiped a stage panel with strong-smelling disinfectant. Five minutes later, there was nothing to indicate anything untoward ever happened there except for the odor of cleaning fluids.

The crew leader stepped close to Gray.

"I want a full necropsy," Gray said. "Tell them to scan the brain for signs of schizophrenia. I want a full report tomorrow. That'll be all."

The man nodded and left.

∞

Second-in-Command Lieutenant Fleitas shifted restlessly on the hot seat of the jeep. Grabbing the mike, he pressed the talk button. "Sierra Bravo, this is Sierra Alpha Actual. All the teams should be ready now. I want to know the moment target is ten clicks from the marker, read me?"

"Bravo in position and ready." The radio crackled and another voice said, "Sierra Charley in position and ready."

Fleitas checked with the powerful binoculars. Despite knowing the exact positions of the two contention teams, he couldn't see anything that gave them away. The desert terrain was not completely flat, yet it offered no hiding places, so the teams had excavated the sand to create hollows just deep enough for their jeeps to be almost buried, and planted stakes around them to hold camouflaging nets. From a distance, they looked like ordinary dunes.

Pulling the water canteen, Fleitas took a swig and splashed his face. He wasn't the only one feeling it. The stifling desert air made their fatigues burn as they sat there, in tense waiting. This was always the worst part of any mission.

The waiting.

This time, the tension was considerably higher than normal. With a briefing that included the disturbing piece of information that, in addition to not being allowed to use lethal force under any circumstances—which severely restricted them in how to catch the target—there was a possibility the target possessed some kind of "paranormal abilities". When Fleitas tried to get it further clarified for his team, Major Gillibrand had just told him it was "unknown", and "not sure, but a strongly suspected possibility". Nothing about this conveyed reassurance to Fleitas' men. They were among the best in their field, and that was why they knew how the best laid-out plans could easily and quickly get fubared.

The ambush was perfectly set. The soldiers were selected for their high ratings in unarmed combat and were rather muscular. Bravo team consisted of six light and agile jeeps, each carrying three men and the driver. They were positioned on the west side of the road with room to maneuver, forming a spread-out line. Their mission was to cut all possible lines of retreat for the objective, surge forward in a wide line to close in on it.

Charley team was on the narrower side with very little room for movement. That was okay. Their task was to create confusion and contain the target long enough for Alpha team to catch up or, failing that, lock tightly to cause the target to spring towards the converging Bravo team.

The members of each team carried sidearms fitted with clips of non-lethal rubber bullets. They also carried heavy shotguns. This new weapon shot a tech-line net, wrapped in a way that it would spread out a few microseconds after launch, forming a wide circle of strong fibers. Once it caught a victim, it was easy to secure—and hard to cut, even with the sharpest knife. It was cutting-edge technology and would likely remain classified for a very long time.

∞

The four moved aside to give the men in thick, white bio-hazard gear and transparent helmets room to do their work. As they turned the body on its back, Danny saw the bloodied face of the man he hated most in the world.

Lifeless.

He didn't have to worry about him anymore. But that didn't stop his stomach from making its number on him.

The second death in three days... At least, Selina was back. He swallowed, wishing his stomach would behave itself on the sight of a little blood. And this was a lot. If he wasn't careful, he'd embarrass himself.

Mickmi turned his face toward her and placed her other hand on his chest, locking her intense gaze with his. The warm relief was immediate, calming the nausea.

—Repeat after me: The sight of blood, she paused for him to think the words, shall no longer connect... to your stomach.

—...to your—my stomach.

—Breathe deeply... In through your nose... out through your mouth.

Her eyes smiled as his exhale stirred her hair.

"Are you alright, Miss Wamba?" Dr. Kruger looked shaky as he and Dr. Bogdanov rounded the side table. "Nobody's hurt?"

Before Mickmi could reply, Artemae snorted. "What, do you really think such primitive weapons present any serious threat to us? Pleeezz."

Kruger looked bewildered by her cavalier attitude. Danny didn't know what to make of this tunic-clad girl either. Why she claimed to be 'the hunter' was beyond him—she didn't look anything like a hunter as far as he was concerned.

"And who might you be?" Kruger asked. "Are you the sister... Miss Wamba's sister Lor Leypaug?"

She crossed her arms. "Why, do I look like a L'or Leypa Aug to you? I am Artemae, hun, and—"

"She is one of my Protectors," Mickmi said calmly. "Her job is to protect me in case of any danger."

—Queen Lepantra, you are formally entitled to only one Protector, one Sword, and one Shield. Danny clearly perceived slight disapproval in Selina's mental voice.

—You are correct, Blanc Aave, Mickmi replied. However, circumstances are different now. My Circle is broken. Or... at the very least, out of my reach. Adjustments are necessary in order to survive and reach our goals.

—Wait. Danny wrinkled his nose against the strong smell of disinfectant as he glanced from one to the other. What goals?

"Aren't you a little young perhaps, for such a big burden?" Kruger asked with a perplexed frown, unaware of the quick telepathic exchange.

"She is very young, aye," Mickmi raised her hand to halt Artemae, "but very capable."

"Where did you come from?" Bogdanov asked.

"Oh," Mickmi replied, "she is always around—close to me."

Kruger and Bogdanov looked blankly at them as Artemae pouted at Mickmi for not letting her speak.

Eventually Kruger cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Miss Wamba. Surely you must be joking. If she were nearby all this time, she would have been noticed, don't you think?"

Mickmi stared at them, her face suddenly serious. Then she sighed. "Not if she is invisible. Not if she can pass through walls... and people."

To Artemae's delight, both men dropped their jaws. She bounced on her heels, glittering eyes darting around. Her animated mirth reminded Danny of Debbie Myers as a schoolgirl, when she'd just come up with some mischief.

I bet they'd make good friends. He'd better keep an eye on this one.

"But-but... that's not possible!" Kruger looked outraged. "Invisibility? And passing through solid objects? Surely you mean she used something like teleportation."

"Oh yes! Teleportation!" Artemae stepped to Kruger. "Here—touch my hand."

Hesitating, Kruger placed his hand on her wrist. Then, feeling it was solid, he patted it and her shoulder.

She batted her eyelids. "I'm perfectly normal, see?" Grinning, she put her other arm behind Kruger's back. "Lookit here!"

Kruger looked down at himself and exclaimed a choked squeak on seeing a hand sprouting like a phantom from his abdomen, fingers twirling. Selina frowned in disapproval, but Bogdanov bent close and pushed his glasses up his nose, trying to see better as the last finger retracted into Kruger's white shirt.

"Would you please do that again? That's so—"

"No!" Kruger glared at him. "Don't ever do... that again. Ever!"

"I just wanted to observe whether there's a clear defining edge. Or if there's blurring in the molecular boundary—"

Danny had to cover his mouth—it felt odd wanting to burst out in laughter after all the tension.

"Artemae," Mickmi said sternly, "please stop messing with my friends. You know it is not within their parameters of acceptable behavior."

The young girl pouted again, but not for long. "Oh, but it was so fun. Did you see his face? It was fun!" Then, noticing Kruger's pale and bewildered face, she patted his hand. "I was just kidding, see? I didn't mean to frighten you—I'd never harm you. You're our friend and we appreciate you."

Kruger looked suspiciously at Artemae's attempts to mollify him, but then he chuckled weakly, shaking his head. "You almost gave me a heart attack there. But... all is forgiven." He pulled a handkerchief to wipe his face, then turned to Selina, "Are you her Protector, too?"

"Blanc Aave is my Guide and Preceptor," Mickmi said.

Both men brightened with curiosity.

"Oh, so... like a teacher? Fascinating! What are your fields of expertise?" Kruger's passion for knowledge shone in his eyes.

"In the fields of Ethos, Morality, History, and Diplomacy," Selina replied. "And of course, Protocol."

"Oh..."

Puzzled at Selina's cautious reply, Danny glanced at her. She smiled politely at the doctors' disappointment, but somehow Danny perceived her attention to be elsewhere. He cast his gaze about the auditorium. A couple of men blue-black uniforms still stood at the rear—they didn't look like ordinary soldiers with their breastplates, webbing, joint pads, and radios mounted on their helmets. And a man with graying hair who'd remained in a second-row armchair was keenly focused on the activity on stage.

No, focused on Mickmi, Selina, and Artemae.

It took Danny a second to realize that was the man who'd shot Apoc. But who was he?

"Miroshka," Bodganov said, "are all your people capable of invisibility and traversing through solid objects?"

"Nay, Doctor Bogdanov. We are not all there yet." Mickmi thought for a moment. "The path for self-advancement is very wide and long. There are many different approaches, and different individuals choose different paths."

The man got up and approached them. Danny watched him—it was as if he was pretending he hadn't been listening to their conversation.

Kruger and Bogdanov turned toward him in deference.

"Hi, Mister Gray. How are you?" Kruger scanned him with his clinical gaze.

"A little shaken but I'll be okay." The man smiled and turned toward Mickmi. "Hi there. My name is Gray. It's nice to make your acquaintance."

Mickmi dipped her head at him once. "It is nice to meet you. Thank you for ending the attack." She gestured to her chest, then to Danny. "This is my friend Daniel. And this is Blanc Aave and Artemae."

Gray nodded to each in greeting, then returned to Mickmi. "I'm sorry you and your friends had to be exposed to that deranged man... I assure you, there'll be no more such incidents. I was wondering if you might be amenable to discuss ways in which we may establish a mutually beneficial relationship. Would you like to talk to me after the present crisis—the meeting is over?"

Mickmi exchanged a meaningful glance with Selina before replying, "Of course. We look forward to it."

Bogdanov crossed his arms, furrowing his brow. Danny eyed him and Gray—perhaps Bogdanov felt uncomfortable standing so close to a man who'd just killed another human being in such a precise and calculated manner. Or perhaps he just didn't like the guy. Whatever the reason, Bogdanov excused himself, muttered something about getting something to eat as he stepped away from the group.

A weird buzz within made Danny snap his gaze to the main doors where the doctor was headed. Why did he feel like he needed to stop him?

"Doctor Bogdanov," Mickmi blurted as Selina put a hand on her arm. "Stay away from—"

"Don't worry, Miroshka." Bogdanov waved over his shoulder, a few paces away from the double doors. "I'll be right back."

Just then, a commotion and muffled shouts from outside made Bogdanov stop, confused. The doors were thrown open and a man in desert camouflage fatigues charged in with a wild look in his eyes, holding a Sig Sauer P220. Bogdanov involuntarily thrust his hands forward, and the soldier reacted, swung his pistol at him, and shot him in the chest.

It all happened so fast. Danny wanted to move, to scream, to do something, but his body felt numb and unresponsive.

— ∞ —

©2019 by kemorgan65

*Banner image of Artemae created in Daz 3D.

______

[A/N: I hope I covered the applicable counts for this scene!]
From Manual For Courts-Martial United States 1969 (Revised edition)
https://www.loc.gov/rr/frd/Military_Law/pdf/manual-1969.pdf

Article 81-Conspiracy.

Article 88-Contempt toward officials.
Insubordination. See Disobedience; Disrespect; Contempt toward.

Article 89-Disrespect toward a superior commissioned officer.
Insubordination is covered under Article 91.

Article 91-
b. Assaulting a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer.
c. Disobeying a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer.
d. Treating with contempt or being disrespectful in language or deportment toward a warrant officer, noncommissioned officer, or petty officer.

Article 94-
a. Mutiny.
b. Sedition.
c. Failure to prevent or suppress a mutiny or sedition.
d. Failure to report a mutiny or sedition.
e. Attempted mutiny.