Freelancers: Falcon & Phoenix (10 page)

A
s the truck speeds forward
, Daken fights against his restraints while burning holes through Falcon with his eyes. Falcon doesn’t struggle against the cuffs but he does return Daken’s stare.

The man in the hat looks at Phoenix. “These two been at each others’ throats long?

“We all just met yesterday.” Her tone is venomous.

“Nothing like making friends, ain’t that right, boys?” the man asks the four troops seated in the back of the transport truck.

“Yes, sir, General!” they say in unison.

“You hear that? That’s discipline. Something this country seems to have lost completely.” The General takes off his hat and brushes his hand through his gray hair before putting the hat back on.

“General?” Phoenix asks.

“Excuse me. Where are my manners? That’s how we all got in this mess in the first place. Everyone just lost their manners. I am General Howard McCord. Leader of the American Joint Military. The last refuge of the greatest nation in the world.”

Falcon finally takes his eyes off of his enemy. “Nation? The U.S.? Those days are long gone.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand. Not after the way things went. Now, you got your Black Sovereign Nations, Ivory Republics, Asian Empires and who knows whatever else.”

“It was the only way to end the war,” Phoenix tells him.

“End it? Who said it ended? Me and my boys are still fighting the good fight. Working to defend democracy for the people.”

“We have democracy,” Falcon tells him.

“That little patch up north? Don’t make me laugh, son. Those people wouldn’t know how to govern themselves if you gave each of them their own island.”

Falcon watches the grass and the trees in the distance as they speed by. He turns to the troop next to him. The soldier is dressed and sits like he’s on active duty. They really do believe they’re still in a time of war. There’s no doubt in his mind, these people actually believe in what they’re doing. New societies have grown up all around them and they’re still living in the old world.

“You’re defending it? How often do you campaign for democracy?” Falcon asks.

“The land you’re now on is the last vestige of it. We’re making sure it’s not taken away from us. Anyone who tries to come in here, like yourselves, trying to spread your propaganda, is severely dealt with.”

Falcon turns to Phoenix with one raised eyebrow. Phoenix turns away from him, angry that he’s put her in this position. She watches as they pass blinking lights on the concrete. “Where are we?”

“Young lady, you are entering the U.S. Airport.”

“Catchy name. Very original.” Daken doesn’t even try to hide his sarcasm.

“I’m glad you think so. Because it’s your new home,” McCord says.

The four prisoners watch as they pass by a row of small airplane hangars. Most are completely intact, housing various vehicles and equipment. A few of them are hollowed out remnants of old structures. All that’s left standing are the four corner pillars.

The transport truck crosses the runway, passing by troops marching in formation. Some at the end of the landing strip are target shooting. Other military vehicles are parked right on the runway. There isn’t an airplane in sight. Not even a wingless one. There’s no helicopter. No ultra-light gliders and no hang gliders. As airports go, the U.S. Airport is all but useless as a place for flying transport vehicles.

General McCord leans over to the truck driver. “Has my air support come in, yet?”

“Negative, sir.”

“You let me know as soon as it arrives.”

“Yes sir.”

“Air support?” Falcon asks.

“Of course. Supply re-stock. We just sent a plane out to our allies to the east. I’m sure you saw it on your way in.”

“There haven’t been any planes—”

Falcon nudges Phoenix to stay quiet. “Planes. I saw it after the first mine went off.”

“Our defenses keep us safe.” McCord glances at the four prisoners. “Most of the time. I’ll see to it that the road is re-enforced.”

Daken watches as the Jeep behind them breaks off from the convoy. He turns his attention to the front and sees them approaching a massive hangar.

Inside the hangar, more troops stand in formation while others practice drills. Falcon and Phoenix notice all the vehicles parked in a row. Most of them are military. A few look to be civilian. They are, at least, unmarked. A tank surrounded by the vehicles is of particular interest to Daken.

“Where are you taking us?” Phoenix asks.

“Interrogation. We need to know enemy movements,” McCord tells her.

“I’ll save you the trouble. We don’t know anything.”

“They all say that. But we get the truth eventually.” The truck slows and stops. “Here we are.” McCord stands up. “End of the road.” He walks to the back of the truck and steps out.

“Prisoners!” a soldier on the ground yells. “Exit the vehicle. Single file. Move. Move. Move.”

The other troops in the truck lift the prisoners and make sure they line up. Daken is first with Little Wang in the rear. Phoenix stands behind Falcon and leans forward. “Are they all crazy?”

“That’s the Waste,” Falcon whispers.

“You mean the United States.”

“Now you know why we don’t call it that.”

“Prisoners quiet!” the ground troop orders as Little Wang hops down from the truck.

“Take these prisoners to the cage,” McCord orders and the four of them are marched toward the back of the hangar.

Daken shifts his glance between the tank and the troop movements, looking for any sign of weakness or some kind of opportunity.

Falcon watches two soldiers with guns enter a room. As the four of them are marched closer to the back of the building, he notices the same troops exit the room without the weapons. He logs that fact in his memory.

The cage is a medium-sized room with one central walkway separating jail cells. Each cell is connected to the other. Rows of floor to ceiling steel rods are lined up all the way across the room.

“I hope you all don’t mind sharing. As you can see we don’t have many vacancies.” McCord opens one of the jail doors.

Phoenix looks at all of the other cells. Each one is empty. She looks up at Falcon as they enter their cell. He can feel her eyes on him and already knows what she’s thinking. Somewhere between the start of the war and the end of it, General Howard McCord lost his mind.

Four troops enter with the prisoners and cuff them to steel rings above their heads. Falcon and Phoenix on one side. Daken and Little Wang on the other. Once secured, the troops step out of the cell with McCord who closes the door and locks it.

“We’ll be back for each of you, individually, for questioning. Until then, enjoy your stay in the U.S. of A.” He laughs at his own little rhyme as he and the troops walk out of the cage, shutting the door behind them.

P
hoenix jerks at the cuffs
. She turns around to face the wall and pulls at the restraints. The metal digs into her skin as she pulls down. Frustrated at the diminishing prospect of escape, she stops struggling before the cuffs start to cut her.

“Might as well enjoy the stay,” Daken says. He leans against the wall, his eyes closed.

Phoenix turns back around and falls back to the wall. “This is your fault,” she says to Falcon.

“Why not? Everything else is,” he replies.

Expecting some kind of push back from him and not getting any, Phoenix leans her head back against the wall and looks up at her bound wrists. “Anyone else think McCord is crazy?”

“He said a plane flew off. There is no more air travel,” Little Wang speaks up. “Everybody outlawed it.”

“That’s right,” Daken says.

“It’s not just McCord. It’s all his troops, too. Probably toxins in the water.” Falcon works at the cuffs. “Don’t drink it when they offer.”

“If they offer,” Daken says.

“You’re really calm for a dead man.” Falcon glares at him.

“They’re not gonna kill me.”

“You’re right. I am.” He tugs at the restraints just as Phoenix did. “The minute I get free, my hands are going around your throat.”

“Good luck with that.” There is no sign of fear in Daken’s voice. Not even a tremble.

“Then what are they gonna do?” Phoenix asks. “McCord said we’d be questioned.”

“Assuming he hasn’t already forgotten about us.” Daken finally opens his eyes and looks at Falcon. Falcon snarls at him but Daken only smiles.

“He just put us in here.” Phoenix says. “How could he forget?”

“Maybe it will be on purpose. Either way.” Daken turns to the cage across the aisle. “That guy probably waited for the same thing.”

Phoenix looks toward the cage on the other side of the room. A withered corpse hangs from restraints similar to theirs, hands above its slumped head. Whoever that prisoner was, they died long ago.

Falcon looks at the corpse. “No matter what they do with us. We’re still gonna end up in here.”

“What if we tell him the right information?” Little Wang asks.

“Do you know the right information?” Daken closes his eyes again.

“We could make something up.”

“It won’t matter what you tell him.” Falcon continues messing with the handcuffs. “These guys want their war. They probably won’t even act on whatever we give them.” “We need to figure a way out of here,” Phoenix says.

“I’m working on it,” Falcon tells her. He gnashes his teeth together as pain shoots down his wrist. It takes a moment as he pulls down, but the cuff finally comes off. Falcon’s arm drops to his side, heavy from being above his head for that long. He turns around to reach for the empty cuff and pushes it through the steel ring. Once out, he heads for the cell door.

“How did you get out?” Phoenix asks.

Falcon turns to her and grabs his thumb. She watches as he works it back into its joint. “I wouldn’t recommend it.” He turns back to the door and kicks his boot into the bars, yelling as loud as he can.

“What are you doing?” Little Wang panics.

“Hey, McCord! You Wasteland psycho!” Falcon continues kicking at the cell door. The sound of the deadbolt clanging in the cell lock echoes inside of the prison room.

The door to the cage finally opens and a soldier rushes inside. “Stop that!”

Falcon continues kicking the door and yelling. Most of it is just noise with the occasional insult slipping out.

The soldier aims his gun at the cage. "I said stop.”

The other three, instinctually turn away from the weapon but Falcon wraps his fingers around the bars and moves in close to the troop. “You’re not gonna fire. Your General needs us for questioning.” He steps back again and continues kicking the door and hollering.

The soldier struggles to get his keys off of his belt. Falcon stops kicking the door but continues to yell and slander the General.

The troop finally gets the key inside the lock. “You won’t need your legs to answer questions.”

He turns the key and opens the door but Falcon doesn’t even give him time to enter as he grabs the soldier’s head and pulls it down to his rising knee. The troop staggers backward from the strike, his eyes watery and his nose bloody.

The soldier starts to raise his gun but Falcon catches the barrel and holds it. The troop pulls the trigger, sending bullets toward the concrete floor and breaking off small chunks of it. Most of the bullets ricochet into the cell. The other three prisoners move as far as they can, trying not to be hit.

Falcon rips the gun from the troop and swings it like a bat, right at the soldier’s head, putting him on the ground. Falcon flips the gun barrel forward and steps into the center aisle. He looks at the door to the prison then he looks back at the others.

“Falcon,” Phoenix says. “We had a deal.”

“We still do.” He walks to the other side of the cell door and pulls the key from the lock. “Hopefully he has one for these,” he says as he hurries to Phoenix and reaches for her cuffs. He tries one key. Nothing. He tries another. Nothing.

“There’s no way they didn’t hear those shots,” Phoenix tells him.

He tries a third key. It works. Phoenix moves her wrists out of the cuffs leaving them to hang on the steel ring. Falcon un-cuffs his other wrist and moves to Little Wang to free him.

The three of them move into the center aisle. “What about me?” Daken yells. “I thought you were gonna kill me.”

Falcon looks at the corpse in the other cell before turning to Daken. “Letting you rot here is better.”

“You’re not leaving me to die in the Waste.”

Falcon looks back at him while he pushes Phoenix and Little Wang toward the door.

“Falcon!” Daken yells as he struggles with his cuffs.

“Problem one is solved,” Falcon says.

The three of them approach the prison door. “How do we get out of the Waste?” Little Wang asks.

“We need a car,” Phoenix says.

“Seems to be a running theme with us.” Falcon smiles. “Good thing we have a lot to choose from.”

“Whatever. Just something fast.” Phoenix starts to crack the door.

“Now you’re thinking right. We have to make one stop first.”

“We need to get out of here.”

“Trust me, you’ll want this. Let’s go.”

Phoenix pulls the door open just as they all hear a grunt from Daken. No one stays to find out what it was for.

They step into the hangar and see the large amount of troops stopping in their tracks. Everyone looks at one another and even though the troops have the upper hand, they still wait to see who makes the first move.

“Out of my way,” Daken bursts through the three of them. The closest troops draw their weapons and fire at the large man dashing for the vehicles.

“Come on!” Falcon runs toward another door in the hangar. Phoenix and Little Wang speed behind him.

Nearby soldiers train their weapons on the three of them and a deafening barrage of gunfire echoes through the hangar. Falcon looks back to see Daken fighting off soldiers near the tank. Phoenix stumbles and her hand goes quickly to her side. Falcon turns to see her struggling to stay on her feet. He puts an arm around her to help her the rest of the way. “Get that door,” he tells Little Wang with bullets flying around them.

The little brother dashes for the door. He opens it and Falcon and Phoenix race through while Little Wang hurries to close it behind them as fast as he can. He flinches as bullets hit it from the other side.

The room is quiet and appears to be empty. Falcon helps Phoenix to the floor, her hand still on her side. He faces Little Wang and sees him locked in a scared stare with a lone soldier standing behind a desk. Before the soldier can make a move, Falcon vaults over the desk and swings a leg around, kicking the soldier to the floor. Falcon reaches down, grabbing him by the shirt and lifts him up only enough to bring his other fist down on him, rendering the guard unconscious.

Falcon takes a quick glance around to make sure no one else is there. With Phoenix below the desk all he sees is Little Wang deeper in the room, walking down a row of fire arms. “Don’t get any ideas,” Falcon tells him as he climbs back over the desk to check on Phoenix. “What happened?”

She grimaces and looks down at the blood in her hand. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I said, I’m fine,” she says, annoyed.

“At least you’re still your charming self.” He reaches his hand down to help her up.

She swats it away and uses the wall to help herself up with more effort than she lets on. “I don’t know about that.” She walks to join Little Wang on the gun row. Falcon stays close, behind her.

Phoenix grabs a fully stocked ammo belt.

“I want this one.” Little Wang tries to lift a large gun from the rack. It’s too heavy and he barely gets one end up before setting it back down and grabbing a much smaller hand gun. He puts it in his back waistband.

Falcon grabs two machine guns and slings them over his shoulders. He grabs two more pistols from a rack and hands them to Phoenix. “Can you handle these?”

She looks down at the weapons as though insulted before grabbing a combat shotgun with a drum loaded in the mag well. “I can handle one of these.” She grabs a nearby sleeve full of shells and straps it to her arm.

Falcon lightly nods his head.

She grabs the pistols anyway and sticks one in her empty leg holster and the other in her belt.

Falcon smiles.

“Whatever,” she says as she grabs a couple of extra pistol magazines. “Is that it?”

Falcon straps a fully loaded ammo belt around his own waist. “They want a war?” he says as he lifts his head to look at Phoenix. Something odd catches his eye and he walks past her to a pedestal with a black and white object on it. “What are you?”

The strange looking gun is obviously a rifle of some sort but like none he’s ever seen. It’s not even shaped like any of the others in the room and is the only one of its kind. The stock and trigger are similar to the other rifles but the barrel is extremely wide with what looks like several smaller holes inside of a cap.

“What is that?” Phoenix asks.

“I don’t know.” He takes off one of the machine guns and replaces it with the strange one. “Maybe we’ll find out.”

“You guys hear that?” Little Wang walks to the door and puts his ear to it. “They're not shooting out there anymore.” He slowly cracks the door open and peeks through the little slit between the door and the door frame. On the other side, a large amount of soldiers wait, weapons aimed right at the door.

Little Wang closes the door and leans back against it.

“What?” Phoenix notices his panic stricken face. It’s an expression of his that she’s grown familiar with.

“We’re trapped,” he tells them.