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“The gift is nothing without the gift,” he said.

No reaction from the darkness.

“Give me chastity and continence?”

Still no response.

“Dang it,” he stammered. “You may not be interested in war?”

He heard another voice down there say, “Just kill him and get it over with.”

Roen ran through all the possible pass phrases. He was supposed to contact Jill to get the right pass phrase once he got here, since it rotated daily. Unfortunately, he had been unable to get a hold of her, so he wasn’t sure which one to use. Finally, he tried one more time. “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity.”

“And I’m not sure about the former,” the voice said.

With a visible sigh, Roen slumped his shoulders and extended his hand. A hand appeared from the black void and Roen pulled him up. “Roen Tan,” he said.

“The Pacific Northwest commander’s lesser half,” the man grinned. “Elias Roas, sir.”

Behind him, Roen heard Marco raise his voice yet another decibel. Obviously, no matter how good the Englishman’s charms were, it was wearing thin on Old Crazy Hair.

Roen nudged with his head. “He one of ours?”

“No,” Elias said. “We’re renting Ian’s silence and his cellar down there. Come on, let’s go get him before he tries to shoot your man outside. Guy shoots first, asks later. Elias and Roen walked through the garage to the convenience store and watched as Ian kept repeating that there wasn’t anything wrong with the car while Marco kept insisting on paying for the station wagon to get a physical.

“Physical?” Elias asked Roen, who shrugged. He coughed a couple of times until both Ian and Marco looked their way. Elias and Roen waved lazily.

“Jig’s up, Ian,” Roen said. “We know you’re harboring fugitives.”

The blood on Ian’s face drained. “Look officer, they just broke in. I swear…”

“Hey now.” Elias frowned. “Way to stab us in the back first chance you get. Guess money can’t buy loyalty after all.” He turned to Marco and saluted. “We’re relieved you’re here, Commander. Please come with me. We have injured.” The small group headed back to the garage while Elias briefed them on their situation. The scout team had been based in the town for the past month, until Prie was caught rummaging through a cargo truck at the Genjix facility’s loading dock and got injured during the escape. The team moved him to this concrete cellar to hide him from the Penetra nets.

The five-member scout team was holed up in a tiny crevice near the back of the cellar. The ceilings were low, and there wasn’t a lot of room to move around. Roen was shocked they could all fit down there. Elias was currently running the show while Prie was incapacitated.

“Bullet through the stomach. Still inside. Missed his spine, though,” Elias said. “We were just trying to keep him comfortable until you came. Which one of you is the doctor?”

Roen exchanged a hesitant look with Marco. “Um.”

“Well, you see,” Marco said, “we ran into a bit of a sticky -”

“She’s dead,” Roen said. “Ambushed by Genjix.”

Elias and his team deflated when they heard about the events of the previous days. Upon closer inspection, Roen realized just how low morale on this team was. They were exhausted, having been operating around the clock for a month. Now, Prie’s injury had compounded the situation.

“If there’s no doctor, how are we going to get Prie out of here?” Sheck, one of the scouts, asked. “And when are we getting extracted?”

Marco shook his head. “We’re not extracting, boys. Command believes that facility you’ve been checking out is important. We’re here to help you finish the job.”

There was a grumbling among the ranks. “What are you good for if you can’t save the commander?” Chase, another scout, added.

Roen looked over the unconscious Prie and checked the wound. He looked up at Marco. “We need to get him to a doctor. He’s not going to last much longer. What’s the Quasing transfer plan?”

Elias looked around and leaned in. “Uh, I don’t think any of the boys want to be a host.” He looked over to Marco. “No offense, Commander.”

“Oh, not at all,” Marco quipped. “It feels lovely being a leper.”

That startled Roen. Prophus operatives had always aspired to become hosts. It was considered a great honor among the ranks and automatically promoted the host to commander. It was amazing how a few short years had changed things. With the Quasing found out by the rest of the world and the continued advancements of the Penetra scanners, it seemed being a host now was toxic.

“I can’t accept that,” Marco said. “In the event of Prie’s death, we need a host ready for the transfer. If no one will volunteer for the privilege, then I will assign one.”

“We can’t just let him die,” Roen said.

“You can’t force a Quasing on any of us,” Helen, the operative tending to Prie, said, shaking her head.

“It’s a death sentence to be a host these days,” Chase growled, his hand moving toward his side arm.

“I’m not taking him,” Sheck added.

“Seriously, am I the only one that sees an issue here with Prie still being alive?” Roen said, louder this time. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The atmosphere in this small cramped room was getting ugly. The scout team looked ready to lynch Marco, and the crazy Brit seemed intent on taking them all on. To be honest, if that happened, Roen wasn’t sure what side he’d take.

Marco pointed a finger at Chase. “You move your hand one inch closer to your pistol. I dare you.”

“Woah, woah. Ow!” Roen said, standing up and banging his head on the ceiling. “Everyone chill out.”

The entire room froze as Chase and Marco stared each other down. Gunfire in such a small room would be catastrophic. Besides the real danger of a ricocheting bullet, the sound of the discharge was a severe threat to all of them.

“I’ll take it,” Helen stood up. “I’ll take Pri if there is no other choice.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Marco nodded.

“He’s not fucking dead yet!” Roen yelled. “What is wrong with all of you?”

He was met with another long silence as all eyes looked his way. Some looked angry, others ashamed.

Marco shook his head sadly. “You saw the inventory, Roen. They’re low on morphine. No surgeon. No way to transport him. It’s the humane thing to do. At the very least, we can save Pri. There’s no other way.”

“Like hell there isn’t,” Roen snapped. He surveyed the others in the room and then looked at Ian, who was standing at the entrance looking terrified. He walked over to the old man and put his hand out. “Give me your phone.”

Ian looked over at Elias and then back at Roen and then back at Elias again. “What?”

“Now,” Roen said, putting his hand on his sidearm. “Give me your damn phone.” The old mechanic reluctantly pulled out a cell phone that looked like it was made in the nineties. Roen hefted the brick in his hand and pointed at the rest of the group. “Stow your gear and get ready to move.”

“Who are you calling, Roen?” Marco asked.

“Someone who can help us take care of Prie.” Roen dialed a few numbers and scanned the room while the phone rang. “You’ve got two minutes,” he mouthed, holding up two fingers.

Someone on the other line picked up. “Hello, 911 emergency services.”

“Hello 911,” Roen said loudly. “I’d like to report a body.”

Roen, Marco, and the scout team watched from up the hill as two police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck parked on poor Ian Crazy Hair’s lot. The excuse they had concocted was that Ian had found the lock on his back door broken, courtesy of Roen breaking it, searched his garage for vandals or thieves, and happened upon Prie lying unconscious in his cellar. Then he called 911.