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She won’t. I’ll make sure of that. I close my eyes and drift off.
I’m back in a familiar nightmare. I know I’m dreaming but I'm unable to snap out of it. I’m back in that office on the warship off the coast of Russia that doubled up as our headquarters. I’m the commanding officer in charge of a secret mission to exterminate the insurgents who pose a serious threat to our country. The drones over the hideout of the enemy beam pictures to our screens. I’m watching the scene unfold on screen, but there’s tense silence around me.
I've realized that the intel we received is faulty. Our team is on the scene—where they shouldn’t be. But so are the enemies to our country.
If I don’t call the strike, they’ll go through with the plan to detonate the bomb in central London, causing one of the most horrific terrorist incidents in the modern history of the city.
If I do—we’ll lose all four team members.
They should not have been anywhere near there, but the information was tainted.
They're also outnumbered. There’s at least fifty hostiles spread across that square mile. If our team doesn’t die from our missile attack, they're going to be hunted down by the enemy and meet a far more horrific end.
One way or the other, they’re not coming out of this alive.
Experience tells me that. And if I don’t take out the enemy soldiers, many more people will be injured.
The operator manning the controls grips the edge of the table with white knuckles. He’s sweating, despite the air-conditioning in the space. There’s silence in the room.
On screen, the sunlight is blinding. The buildings sprawled across the complex seem to be uninhabited, but the drones picking up the body heat of those inside indicate otherwise.
Then a figure emerges from the door. The drone zooms in on him, and the picture reveals he has a portable missile launcher over his shoulder. Fuck.
The Fire Control Operator in charge of deploying the missile swears. “You can’t do this.”
He’s the one person on my team who challenges my command. As if I need to be reminded of what’s at stake? If I don’t follow through, I’ll have failed in my duty to my country and to my monarch and to my fellow citizens. I’ll have failed to protect them. And if I do... I’ll have hurt my own family, irreparably.
It’s likely Ryot will never forgive me for this.
The sweat pools in my armpits. My chest tightens. My entire career has led up to this moment. I call upon all of my military experience to help me make the judgement call. I know what I have to do. I push all of my doubts and feelings into a box and bury it in the deepest part of my soul.
“Stand by to engage on my command,” I growl.
The tension in the room spikes. The rest of my team is motionless, their eyes riveted to the screen. The scent of sweat and stress, a pungent mix of body odor and something more acidic, deepens. It’s the scent of oncoming tragedy. I can taste it on my tongue, feel the electricity in the air. The hair on the back of my neck rises.
“Fire,” I bark.
The operator hesitates. This has never happened before. He has never questioned my command. This situation has divided my team. It’s going to tear my unit—my family away from home—apart. My heart sinks.
Then with a herculean effort I shove my grief into the same box as my other feelings.
When I speak, my voice is calm, "That’s an order, Marine."
There’s an edge of authority to my tone that demands action. It cuts through the heaviness in the space. The operator presses the button. The missiles fire. My heart stops then starts up again. Thump-thump-thump, the blood booms in my ears.
There’s a delay of a few seconds.
Then the buildings blow up, as does our drone.
The picture cuts out.
The operator jumps to his feet; he turns to me. "You took out our own." His eyes blaze, but underneath it is the same sorrow that I tucked away.
"Collateral damage." I keep my voice casual, but my heart squeezes in my chest.
My mind, though, is absolutely clear. I followed the rules to the letter. I did the right thing.
The operator advances on me, an ugly expression twisting his features. His face morphs until he looks like Ryot, who then raises his fist and smashes it into my face. I rear back.
