XY Revolution

I'm so giddy with excitement for the coming weeks that when we get word to go to a planning meeting, I'm one of the first in the room. I say hello to anyone there and take a seat, nearly bouncing in my seat. I really can't help it. The thought of actually taking down specific targets who mean something to the XY regime is inspiring.

The meeting room is as full as I've ever seen it, so much so that there are more than twenty people without chairs. However, when a woman named Connie, who I've only briefly been introduced to at breakfast one time, stands up to start the meeting and Henriette is still not here, I frown in confusion. Connie is the raid coordinator.

"What's going on?" I whisper to Travis, who doesn't bother answering me.

"As you will have noticed, food has not been up to standard around here for a while," Connie announces and I feel my enthusiasm deflate. "That means one thing; it's raiding season."

Travis looks like he could hug everyone in the room he's so happy. Weirdo.

"No missions until our supplies are back in surplus. Australia are also having trouble getting some of the materials used in the energy pills, so this is a good time for some maintenance around Home Base. Naomi will take leadership on that front, as per usual, while I run the raids. Field agents report to me now, everyone else, with Naomi in the cafeteria."

I scowl and ask Travis, who's already getting to his feet, "Who am I with?"

He chuckles and ruffles my hair, "Don't worry. You're with the field agents. You've been bouncing off the walls cooped up in this place."

"I've never spent so long without going outside," I remind him.

"Country girls, honestly," he snorts, "Being able to stay inside is a blessing."

"Hunt, Belmont, enough chit-chat!" Connie warns us and we get up to gather around a large screen in the corner of the room.

Julia, the weapons trainer, waves at me and smiles. She's spinning a dagger in her other hand, never faltering. No one else watches or bothers moving away; they've seen this before and they know she has absolute control. To me though, it's pretty damn cool that she doesn't even have to watch the blade as it blurs around her hand.

"You'll be split into groups of five," Connie tells us, "All based around the San Francisco area."

"The food is already waiting for collection here, here, and here," she points to several locations on the map. "Two groups will take those."

"We also have the usual medical routes - we are getting desperately low on supplies after a couple of the last missions. Two groups again."

My cheeks flush red. I've spent more time in the hospital than any other person here in the past couple of months.

"And here's the fun one." I watch as Travis' green eyes brighten. "The military base raid."

Julia stops spinning her blade.

"Who's getting that assignment?" she asks eagerly. The thirty agents all lean in and Connie sighs.

She says, "I know that you all want some decent action, but we have hand-picked the team already and you can't all be happy."

"Get on with it, Connie," Julia prods.

"Shut up, Jules," Connie retorts and I almost giggle at the two women. "Anyway, Hunt, you'll be taking the lead."

That was so unexpected.

"Now due to the showy nature of this raid, Belmont, you're up."

I nod and Travis nudges me with a smile.

"Julia Beauchamp."

"Yes!" the small black haired woman throws her knife up and catches it neatly.

"Jackson, we're going to need some of your expertise."

"Boom. Gotcha," Phil says with a grin.

"And you get to pick your final agent, Hunt. Pick, then you and your team report back here at 2000 hours."

Without hesitation, and before anyone can plead, Travis says, "Agent Grove."

A tall blonde girl smiles. I've seen her in training. She's in her early-twenties and is fast. Quite pretty too, but I don't know why that's bothering me. Actually I do and it makes me feel stupid.



"At least we've actually got protective gear on," I joke to Julia.

She grimaces out into the slither of a window in the side of this armoured truck.

"We're going to need it, that's for sure," she tells me. "You ready?"

I stroke the barrel of my assault rifle and nod. I have back-up magazines in a belt around my hips. There are several blades concealed in my suit, but I know they're a last resort. I’m still a hundred times better with a gun.

"I really hope Phil's bombs work," I admit and hear a cry of protest from the driver's cabin.

Julia actually laughs then and says, "Have faith, Freya. If there's one thing that Phil can actually do, it's rig an explosion."

"Boom!" Phil calls and I chuckle.

"And we just need to steal the guns, right?" I check.

Julia rolls her eyes, "Special guns, Freya. These are the new ones and we haven't had a chance to get a look at them yet. God forbid something's mass produced and we send our troops into war without knowing what they're getting themselves into."

"Like I said, guns."

Travis raps his brass knuckles the truck's insides, shutting us up.

"We're here," he says.

I make sure that my belt of magazines isn't about to fall off yet again before getting up. I don't feel stupid for the quadruple-checking though - Julia's doing the same thing with the blades under her wrists. They're an exceptionally quick draw, making them ideal for a mission like this. I had barely noticed the blonde agent, Rebecca Grove, during the drive. She's so silent I doubt you could hear her breathing if the rest of the world were dead. Her blue eyes are wary and alert, observing the slightest movements. Her gloves are covered in intricate plates of metal. She’s to guard Phil while he works his magic. I don't think I'd come out of tumble with her alive.

The truck parks at an old gas station, about 300 metres from the gates of the military compound. Most buildings around here are empty, if not levelled, for security reasons. For us, in the black of night, this is a good thing. The truck runs on a solar battery and barely hums. Coming in with the headlights off and around some back routes has ensured our secrecy. Local informants can be worth their weight in gold.

When my boots touch the ground, gun in my arms, the others are already scouting the area. We were given a pair of glasses each which let us see in the dark. It means I have to wear contact lenses again, because there never seems to be enough time to book me in with a laser treatment, but this might just be the coolest thing ever. My vision is crystal clear.

I turn to the right and catch my first glimpse of the base. It's lit up almost to the extent that the UN building was. It's a very tempting target - so nicely presented to us. It won't stay lit up for long though. Phil is crouched beside the truck and fiddling with a box. I've never seen him so focused.

"What's Phil doing?" I ask when Julia returns to my side.

"He's checking the soft-bomb."

I look at her with alarm.

"Relax, it's just going to knock out all the electricity within two kilometres of here."

Yeah, that still sounds crazy.

"And it's all ready to go, ladies," Phil announces triumphantly.

Travis is suddenly there, helping his friend stand.

"Alright, you all know what to do. Freya, have you got the launcher?" he asks.

I grimace and remove the heavy weapon from its place on my back. I lift it into position on my shoulder. Travis nods then says, "Okay everyone. Good luck. Vive la résistance."

Phil and I walk out into the centre of the street. I pull down the scope so I can check my shot. I've only got one go at this first strike and it has to be done right.

"Ready, Freya?" he murmurs.

"Do it," I whisper, the gates of the complex in my line of fire. With luck, the shot will blast clean through the gates and then explode, hitting the guard towers in the immediate vicinity.

Phil flicks the switch and the beacon of light that is the complex goes dark. I brace myself for the kickback, glad for my weighted boots, and fire.

One, two, boom.

The sky lights up again with a flame ball the size of my house back in New Zealand. I don't get much chance to admire my handiwork though. I drop the launcher and start running with the others. The reason we do so much bloody cardio work makes so much sense now, and I'm very grateful for all those hours on the treadmill.

I easily catch up with Julia and Travis, who had the head start, and see Phil and Rebecca fork off to go round to the right of the complex. It's not difficult to hide with the lights out. The flames can only do so much, and they tend to occupy a lot of the attention. Particularly when they damage the front guard towers.

Our entry point is the front-left corner; the opposite to Phil and Rebecca who are the havoc-wreaking distractions. The mess hall is the closest building, which will be the emptiest at this hour. As we get closer, I can hear several voices screaming, and smell cooked meat. My stomach threatens to heave right there, but even that one moment of hesitation puts me behind Travis and Julia. I pump my legs faster and bring my gun up, eyes darting for any sign of enemy movement.

Travis climbs to the top of the fence quicker than I can count to ten, first lying on the barbed wire to check for sentries, then sits on it - our protective gear so tough it won't tear or allow pain from the brutal wires. I know this fence is usually electrified, but it seems so stupidly vulnerable now.

Julia goes at the fence at a run so fast she barely has to use her hands before Travis hauls her up. She flips over the other side neatly. I take a deep breath and follow suit. I've never been a particularly good climber, so a running start is the best method for me as well. I'm not nearly as good at it as Julia though and my hands scrape the wires clumsily. Travis grabs me by the wrist and pulls me up. Once my leg's swung over, he jumps down, leaving me to swing my other leg over and drop.

They push me to the front and I lead the way around the mess hall, gun at the ready. The idea is to use it as little as possible to keep the soldiers focused on all the explosions, which are going off at regular intervals now.

Men are running everywhere - many half naked from being woken by the ruckus. There are already men with melted faces being carted around on stretchers. The sight is ungodly and the fire has caught to other areas, burning so hot that adrenaline isn't the only reason I'm sweating so much in this suit.

The weapons warehouse is further down the left fence-line, with the entrance on the side of the open area in the centre of the base.

"Round the back, then we'll have to enter the main area to get in," I say.

Travis shakes his head.

"We only go round the back. I'll get us in," he tells me and I nod.

I creep back to our starting point then start going round the back of the mess hall instead of its side. One unfortunate soul decides to come into my line of fire at that moment, and I don't even think before I squeeze the trigger. I get him clean through the forehead.

"Run, Freya! Someone might've heard that!" Julia urges and I pick up the pace, still checking every little alley before continuing. No mistakes can be made.

Soon enough, Travis places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I look to him in alarm but he shakes his head and instead holds a small device up next to the metal back of a building. I suddenly realise that we've already reached our destination.

The metal glows red where Travis moves the device, and with one good kick, the makeshift door burst inwards. There are two men in the backroom we've just entered, and I dispose of them before they can aim.

"Jules, Freya, watch my back," Travis orders as more people burst into the backroom. Sadly for them, the door acts as a bottleneck and we're able to pick the poor suckers off one by one as they come through. Once I see Julia has control of it, I go to check outside, down the back of the warehouse. Nothing. I look back in to see Travis filling a case with sleek, charcoal-coloured guns. Julia has just slit the throat of a man stupid enough to turn his back on her.

"Phil, we've got it. Exiting now," Travis shouts, closing the case with two clicks.

Phil's excited whoop comes through my earpiece and I grin. I check the coast is clear again, then wave Travis through. I switch places with Julia so she can help Travis, and back away slowly, shooting when I have to. Once I'm out, Julia pushes me forward frantically then throws something into the hole in the wall.

Fire streams out of the door and the sound of weapons all being set off at once is deafening. The helmet I'm wearing does little to dampen its effects. I can barely hear a thing now. The next thing I know, Julia is grabbing my wrist and forcing me to run again. My balance is off though, and if not for the heavy boots that anchor me, I'd be dead. As it is, Julia is throwing daggers at anyone stupid enough to try follow us. She gets them in the eye every time.

At the fence and realising that I'm useless, Travis quickly takes the gun from my grasp and a magazine from my belt. I pick up the case of guns and Julia scales the fence. I throw her the case as bullets fly over our heads from Travis. I then start to climb, and I don't know how, but I manage it without slipping. My drop is less than ideal, and if not for these boots’ support, I would've twisted my ankle.

Julia drops the case into my arms and I start running. There's no point waiting for the others. They're the ones watching my back now and they catch up fast anyway. Soldiers don't come after us, to my surprise, but looking back at the thoroughly destroyed base, it's not difficult to see why.

The only people who do join us are Phil and Rebecca. Phil's exposed bottom half of his face is black with soot. Rebecca's suit is torn on the shoulder, but she doesn't look like she's bleeding. We finish the last leg of the run together, clambering into the armoured truck.

I pull off my helmet once we're inside and run my hands through my sweaty blonde hair. Travis mouths something at me and I point to my ears, shaking my head.

He glares at Julia who suddenly goes red.