“So, north or south?”

  Both men turned to look at the woman lounging in the back seat of their SUV. “Um, excuse me?” Ahn asked, confused by her question.

  Ash sighed dramatically. “We’re still based out of San Diego, right?”

  “And how do you know we haven't moved to Virginia or even D.C. outright?” Commander Edwards asked, his tone still containing that teasing hint to it.

  “Because being based on the east coast means we would be fighting primarily in Europe. And, unless my grasp of current geopolitical events is wildly off base, most, if not all of, our potential rivals in this new arms race are located on the other side of the Pacific, not the Atlantic. Plus they invested a metric shit-ton of resources into setting up the program, and moving our base to the other side of the country seems exceedingly wasteful even by our glorious government’s standards.”

  “Ok, she’s got you there captain.” Ahn quipped before turning back to Ash. “But that still doesn’t explain your earlier question.”

  She nodded her head to acknowledge the point. “It’s a ten and a half hour drive from here to San Diego. Page has only a single road that goes through the town. So we could either head south to Phoenix, or drive north across the Utah border before cutting west until we hit Las Vegas. Both cities are situated at the halfway point between here and our destination. Hence why I asked which direction we were driving.”

  “North then.” Samuel said simply. “Vegas seemed more fun for the drive back.”

  She nodded her head but didn’t bother to comment further. Anh briefly wondered just why she even bothered to ask. It wasn’t like either decision would really matter in the end. All there was around them was endless desert and scrub brush, why would picking a certain direction change that?

  As it turned out, the desert had quite a bit more variety than Anh realised. Crossing over the canyon bridge showed an impressive tableau of dull red sandstone mesas and sparkling blue water from the nearby lake. It was quite the stark contrast to the endless flat expanse of sand, rocks, and the occasional cactus they had driven through on the way up.

  The drive was quiet. None of the three felt the need to distract from the beautiful scenery with the sound of idle chatter. Ash even kicked her long legs out to the side and took a small nap. Anh did his best to ignore the small amount of sand being smeared into the seats. With any luck, he wouldn’t have to be the one to clean the vehicle when they turned it in at the base. As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, the sparkling jewel of the desert came into view.

  A soft, yet pleasant ringtone chimed from the front seat. Everyone looked at Captain Edwards as he slowly fished his phone out of his pocket and put the device to an ear. “Hello.” He said quietly.

  The conversation seemed mostly one sided, with the Commander mostly replying with affirmative grunts and the occasional one word sentence. After about half a minute of this strange interaction, he moved the phone towards the center console and pressed a button.

  “Go ahead, you’re on speaker.”

  “Thank you, Snowpierce. Can everyone else hear me loud and clear?” The woman on the other line called out in a business-like tone.

  “Infostructure! How’s it going?” Ash said happily to what Anh assumed was to her, another old friend.

  “Crucible. It’s been far too long.” Infostructure replied back. “Do-over, I assume you can hear my voice as well?”

  “Affirmative.” Anh said with a nod.

  There was the almost imperceptible sound of glasses being clicked back into place from the other end of the receiver before Infostructure spoke once more. “Now, Snowpierce has already informed me that everyone on this call is currently caught up in recent events, so I will move on to the heart of the matter. We’ve recently received intel that suggests various factions are already hard at work synthesizing the formula and are slowly moving onto the testing phase. To do this, they are outsourcing their test subjects from the local criminal gangs.”

  “Hold up, hold up, hold up!” Crucible cried out. “Are you saying that foreign governments are giving this shit to drug dealers?!”

  Another soft click. “Precisely.”

  “It makes a sick sort of sense.” Snowpierce growled. “It’s like testing a nuke in your enemy's back yard. All you have to do is observe the fallout while people like us are left running around trying to pick up the pieces.”

  “And one of these gangs is here in Las Vegas?” Do-Over asked, deading the answer he knew full well was about to come.

  “Indeed. There is some good news however. Intel suggests that these operations are only in their infancy. Additionally, it’s quite possible we can trace exactly who is using these gangs in the first place and take the fight directly to them.” By the end of her little spiel, Do-Over noticed that Infostructure’s voice became ever-so-slightly strained, possibly even heated. It seemed even the famously impassive communications specialist wasn’t immune to getting angry at the situation.

  “Hey Snowpierce, we got any gear?” Crucible asked.

  The commander smiled devilishly. “Oh, we’ve got some gear for you all right. Info, send us the location and any intel you got on what to expect. Once we’re in position, I’ll have Crucible open her welcome-back present.”

  “Understood, Snowpierce. Sending you all relevant information now. Good luck!”

  No sooner had the call ended did the phone once more let out a series of chimes to signify several incoming messages. Snowpierce quickly opened up the navigation and adjusted their heading towards the more seedy edge of the city while Do-Over poured over the intelligence data to share with the others.

  Once the car was parked away from potentially prying eyes, the three operatives gathered near the trunk. Inside were three small locked crates.

  The first and largest held an array of body armor. “Here ya go! One woman's size bullet proof vest, shin guards, and knee pads.” Snowpierce said with a chuckle. Do-Over thought that comment would cause her temper to flare, but she just smiled good naturedly and started strapping everything on.

  As if sensing his unasked question, Crucible spoke up. “As boyish as my figure may suggest, an actual vest fitted to my dimensions is worlds better than just using one of yours.” She paused as if lost in a memory. “I honestly have no idea how the more busty members of the team can even stand wearing their gear.”

  “Some of the eggheads managed to develop a process to mold the ceramic plates to fit the female form without compromising ballistic negation.” The commander said quietly. “Before that, tailoring the cut of the kevlar helped, but mostly they just had to grin and bear it.”

  “Ballistic boob armor. Nice!” She chuckled while fixing the final strap.

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  “Better a sore chest than a hole blown through it.” Do-Over said.

  “I can’t argue with that.” She replied with a nod.

  “Alright, now let’s move onto weapons.” Snowpierce cut in before opening up the second crate. Inside were two neat rows of pistols set on opposite sides of each other, with their respective clips of ammunition and holsters being placed more towards the center.

  “On the left we got our standard issue sidearm loaded with nine millimeter hollow points.” He said while handing the pistols out to his team. “Now, as usual, these should be your last resort. We need information above all else. Which is why we got these little beauties.”

  He reached down and picked up one of the weapons from the right hand column. “They look and feel just like a standard gun, but inside they are designed to deliver a specialty made neuroinhibitor that will send just about anyone off to dreamland within seconds.”

  Crucible looked ecstatic. “Whoa, sweet! I bet these work way better than the rubber bullets I used to use.”

  “That they do.” Snowpierce confirmed. “Hit any exposed patch of skin and they go to work instantly. They even pierce through most thin items of clothing, just not any of the really durable stuff like leather jackets, so watch out for that.”

  He handed those out as well before adding. “Oh, and try to remember which gun is which. I really don’t want to explain to the brass why some of these guys have bullet holes when there shouldn’t be.” He was giving Crucible a pointed look.

  She in turn gave a smile filled with innocence. “Don’t worry! Right for ‘Nighty-night’, Left for ‘Death’. Easy to remember!” She said while patting at each weapon strapped to her thighs.

  “I’m being serious.” He said quietly.

  “And so am I.” She shot back, still smiling a tad too widely. She patted him on his broad shoulder. “Look, this is going to be nothing like that one time in Venezuela, trust me!”

  “What happened in Venezuela?” Do-Over asked.

  “Nothing much.” Crucible said with a grin. “And if all goes well, you’ll never find out.”

  Snowpierce gave a loud cough. “Anyways, I got one last thing for you, Crucible.”

  The third and final crate was the smallest of the bunch. The moment Snowpierce opened it up however, Crucible’s face lit up like the Vegas Strip at night.

  “You didn’t…” She breathed.

  “We did.” He confirmed.

  Slowly, reverently, Crucible reached down and picked up what appeared to be a length of chain. The links were small, made out of a dull metal, and considerably longer than Do-Over would have thought practical. With practiced motions, she wrapped the chain around her right arm until every inch of skin from her wrist to her elbow was covered in metal. She held the limb up in the air, as if admiring the way it looked in the twinkling light of the distant city center.

  “At last… my arm is complete again.”

  Snowpierce smacked her lightly in the back of the head. “Calm down Sweeny Todd. Save the theatrics for when we actually get back to base.”

  She puffed out her cheeks in a surprisingly adorable pout. “Aww… You’re no fun.”

  Crucible finished wrapping her other arm with an identical chain, then strapped two wicked looking knives to her lower back, and last but not least, draped the top of her head in a peculiar red bandana. Overall she cut an imposing figure, and that was completely discounting any genuine skill the operative possessed. Which was admittedly quite considerable.

  Snowpierce stepped forward and handed her a small plastic object. “Here’s the communicator. Same tech as before, so no need to walk you through it.” He handed one to Do-Over before placing the last inside his own ear canal. “Radio check, everyone read?”

  “Yep.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Crucible raised her hand. “You mind if I take point on this one?”

  The captain gave her a considering look. “How much of a head start do you need?”

  Her smile turned predatory. “Let’s go with… two minutes. Yeah, that should be enough time to scout around and pick off the lone mooks.”

  “Done.” Snowpierce said and put a hand to his watch. “One hundred and twenty seconds, starts… Now!”

  With a mad cackle Crucible leapt into the air, one of her chains shot out and grabbed the roof of the nearby building. In a flash, she was hauled up and disappeared out of sight, the sound of her laughter slowly fading behind her.

  Do-Over was stunned. “Uh, commander. You sure that was a good idea?”

  The larger man didn’t even bother to look up from the ticking timer on his wrist. “If she needs help, she’ll let us know. Think of this as a great opportunity to see how some of the older operatives used to do things.”

  “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”

  Snowpierce finally looked up and gave the younger man an understanding glance. “I forget that we don’t really tell you second gens about what came before.”

  Do-Over was confused. “Second gens?”

  The commander nodded. “Let me ask you this; How long have you had your powers?”

  “Just a little under a year since I joined the program, you know this sir.” Do-Over responded automatically. He was struggling to understand just what his superior was going with this line of questioning.

  The big man nodded again. “And it's safe to assume you came into the program after serving your time in the regular armed forces, correct?”

  “Yes sir.”

  Snowpierce smiled. “What if I were to tell you that for the older folks like me and Crucible, that the situation was reversed?”

  Do-Over thought it over for a moment. “So, you were given your powers before you served in the program?”

  “Exactly!” Snowpierce said excitedly. “This means that we adapted our fighting styles based on our powers, rather than the other way around. Not saying either way is necessarily better, mind you, but this does give us a rather unique set of tools to solve unconventional problems.” He looked down at his watch once more. “And it looks like it's high time you saw exactly what that looks like. Come on!”

  With that, both men drew their weapons and advanced towards the front door of the building. When they got a foot in front of the door, the commander put a finger to his earpiece. “Crucible, we’re going in.”

  Instantly her calm voice responded inside their ears. “Copy that. Front door is clear. Proceed towards the center and I’ll pick off any stragglers along the way.”

  “Ready?” He called out.

  Do-Over nodded.

  With that, Snowpierce threw open the door and the two rushed inside with their weapons at the ready. The lobby of what appeared to be an abandoned office complex was mostly empty, unless one counted the bodies.

  There were six of them. All were male and unmoving except for the faint rise and fall of their chests. One more detail that stuck out was their positions. Each of them were laying against one of the nearby walls, as if someone quickly knocked them out and dragged them out of the way. Which was probably exactly what happened.

  “We’ve just passed by your little welcoming gift. Proceeding deeper into the facility.” Snowpierce called on the radio.

  Do-Over fell into step behind his commander as the two men carefully stepped down the hallway. The two had been working together long enough to have developed a system. He knew without looking that the older man’s eyes would be emitting a dull glow alongside a faint trembling of his pupils, both telltale signs that he was using his foresight ability. Anything that somehow managed to get past Snowpierce’s sight, Do-Over will be ready to wind back and retaliate.

  It wasn’t long before Snowpierce gave a clear bark of. “Contact. Right side.”

  Do-Over aimed at the right hand hallway. A split second later, a figure stepped out of the shadows only to stop dead as Do-Over’s non-lethal shot took the thug in the chest, dropping him instantly.

  They quickly moved through the facility, Snowpierce occasionally calling out two or three hostiles at the same time, but they usually only encountered them in ones or twos. Do-Over could almost swear that whenever their numbers would get too large, he would catch a glimpse of one of the rear thugs being pulled back into the shadows. It was just a glimpse, but even when he activated his power to make sure he saw correctly, he could never tell for sure.

  Before long they came across a wide set of double doors. “Is this it?” Do-Over asked in a whisper.

  “Should be.”

  And that was when the doors flew open and the sailing form of Crucible sailed across the hall. Her constant stream of expletives was only stopped when her back impacted against the far wall with a crunch, and her limp body slumped to the floor. Unmoving.