Chapter 1
Ottawa, Canada 2107CE
“This place has become desolate…” Leyra said, looking out over the city from the top of the Peace Tower. In fifty years, many of the ruins of the city had collapsed. Union salvage crews, having waited for the buildings to fall in case of traps, wandered the streets searching for anything of value in the wreckage, making it more difficult to find decent hiding places.
Sighing, she remembered the films she’d seen of the city as it had been before the war. It was once a happier place, full of stores and businesses. It had also been Canada’s political center, not unlike Toronto had become.
Leyra was caught off guard as the elevator behind her suddenly began to move downward. Cursing, she tried to figure out why any salvage crews would be coming up the tower. There wasn’t anything they could use in the tower, and salvage crews were taught never to stray from their specified salvage areas. Their area should have been in Kanata, nearly half an hour away.
With only a moment to think, she activated her FADE gear and started looking for a good place to hide. Though FADE was normally highly affective, it was best not to rely on illusions alone. She listened closely as the elevator began its journey back up to her position. There were voices inside, at least two.
The elevator doors slid open and three members of a salvage crew walked into the towers laughing. The operation must have ended earlier than expected, and definitely with positive results. They were carrying numerous mechanical objects, and their weapons were holstered.
Leyra slowly and quietly pulled out her silenced 9.7 SIP as the salvagers looked out over the city. She took aim, pointing at the head of the shortest salvager. Gently squeezing the trigger, she caught herself and stopped as the other two stepped into the line of fire. She knew that killing one while still hidden would be preferable, but she only had about forty seconds worth of power left in her FADE battery. Adjusting her aim, she fired two rounds quickly. The first struck the tallest salvager in the ear, splattering blood, brain and skull fragnebts on the window. The second hit the middle salvager in the shoulder, causing him to drop all that he was carrying.
“Scrapper!” shouted the shortest as the FADE cloak went offline sooner than expected. She cursed and rushed the two surviving salvagers, firing three more rounds. The first two punctured the wounded salvager’s chest, damaging his heart and lung and killing him instantly. The final shot hit the window, shattering the glass. Leyra kicked the remaining salvager in the chest, and then brought her foot up under his chin, knocking him into the air and out the broken window.
As the salvager fell, Leyra looked out the window to watch for a moment. Moving away from the window, she felt a sharp pain in her hip as a bullet tore through her bodysuit. She stumbled back for a moment and dropped her sidearm out the window.
Cursing, she made her way back to the elevator. She had spent enough time in the city, James would be worried by now, and it was getting late. She had no desire to be there with the salvage team was declared missing an AU Night Ops team came looking for them. It was time to go home.
Cumberland, Canada Tuesday, Jan. 18, 2107CE, 19:15EST
Blood was still pouring from the wound that Leyra had originally considered a minor scratch. It had slowed her down significantly, and she had been forced to hide from an incoming Night Ops team. She limped into the old house above the hidden Scrapper command center and found James already waiting.
“What happened?” he asked with a worried tone, moving closer to examine the wound. He pulled out a small flashlight to get a better look.
“There were salvagers at the tower, one shot me on his way out the window,” Leyra said, clearly irritated, “I didn’t have time to figure out what they were doing downtown.” She watched as James inspected the wound before he stood and looked her in the eye.
“We have to get you downstairs, or this could turn into something serious. Come on, let’s go,” he ordered. Most scrappers were used to listening to James, because he was their leader. Leyra had never gotten used to taking orders from her own husband. This time, however, she was willing to go along with what he said. She was in a lot of pain, and she didn’t have the will to argue with him when she knew he was right.
Down in the medical lab, Ray was working diligently on some new FADE modifications when James and Leyra entered. He looked up and sighed, seeing blood covering Leyra’s side.
“How many times have I asked you to be more careful? I can patch you up whenever you want, but these FADE bodysuits are hard to come by. I’ll have to send someone out to find scraps for repairs now,” he began to rant. Ray was known not only for being overprotective of his machines, but also for having an almost nonexistent bedside manner. He sighed and pointed to a bed on the other side of the lab.
“Forgive me, Ray,” Leyra said sarcastically, “I won’t ever let my FADE suit get scratched again.” She rolled her eyes and took a seat on the bed, tightly holding the wound that was becoming more painful by the minute.
Shaking his head, Ray examined the wound and reached for some tools. He could tell that the bullet was long gone, probably lodged deep in a wall behind where she had been standing. She was lucky to have gotten back so soon, otherwise she would probably have an infection by now. He sprayed some disinfectant into the wound, causing Leyra to cringe, and then he began to stitch it up.
“Sorry,” he said as he worked, “we ran out of anaesthetic a few days ago, trying to save Gordon…You’ll have to bear with the pain until I’m done.” He continued working, careful not to hurt her too much. James turned away, either unable or unwilling to see his beloved wife in such pain. Soon, Ray was done and he left the couple alone.
Placing her hand on James’ shoulder, Leyra pulled herself close and gently kissed his neck. He raised his head for a moment, then gave a thankful sigh and said nothing. Ray watched from the distance for a moment before heading to the other lab to get his tools and repair the damaged bodysuit.
Cumberland, Canada Thursday, Jan. 20, 2107CE, 06:20EST
Leyra sat on the roof of the old house, watching the sun rise and light the old village. James had refused to let her go on any missions until her wound was completely healed. She was restless, having been stuck in the village for only two days, she began to dread reliving her last injury. A broken wrist had kept her cooped up for nearly two weeks before James had finally agreed to let her supervise a simple retrieval operation.
“It’s dangerous up here,” James said as he climbed up onto the roof behind Leyra, “Not as stable as it was before the war. Why do you always come up here?” He took a seat next to Leyra and smiled at her.
She shook her head and looked toward the ever brightening horizon. Sighing, she asked “Why is it so important to you that I stay here?” She absent-mindedly rubbed her stitches.
“Because,” he said taking her hand, “I don’t let anyone go out there with injuries like this, so I’m sure as hell not going to let you go.” He looked into her eyes with his infamous ‘I’m sorry’ look, and she found herself unable to argue.
“I’m going into Orleans on Monday, though” she said. He shook his head and laughed, then looked at the sun.
Orleans had barely been touched during the Battle for Ottawa, but people had evacuated and never returned. Now it was a prime location to find basic telecommunication equipment as well as numerous untouched retailers. Teams regularly raided the old Gloucester Center and Place d’Orleans shopping centers for supplies. It seemed safe enough for Leyra to go on such a mission.
“Alright, you can go,” he said, leaning in and kissing her forehead, “but be careful. You’ll be there to command the operation, not to help.” He stood up and began to walk back toward the ladder before turning and saying “Now let’s go in. It’s too cold out here this morning.”
Leyra nodded and stood. She took one last look at the rising sun, then turned and headed toward the ladder. Together, she and James made their way down to the lab where Ray was just finishing the repairs on Leyra’s FADE body suit.
Cumberland, Canada
Thursday, Jan. 20, 2107CE, 06:55EST
“Perfect timing, I was about to go looking for you,” Ray said as Leyra and James entered the lab, “I’ve finished repairing your suit, and added the new modifications I was working on. They’re still experimental, but if they work, the suit should work better in rain. I can’t guarantee that a large storm wouldn’t make you visible, though.”
He held up the suit, which looked exactly the same as it had before. If anyone could spot a difference, Leyra didn’t want to know about them. Anyone with that kind of visual acuity would probably be very dangerous.
“Glad to see you fixed it so quickly,” James said, taking the suit from Ray, “And we’re expecting rain on Monday. I can’t think of a better time for a field test.” He tossed the suit to Leyra, who caught it and grinned. She could hardly wait for her next mission.
Ray looked at her, and then shifted his eyes to James. It was unusual for him to let anyone go on missions so soon after being injured, much less his own wife. Ray was worried, but he would never voice such concerns. No Scrapper would. Everyone trusted James’ decisions, and if they didn’t, they kept it to themselves. Normally, he ended up being right anyway.
“I still want to tweak it a bit,” he said, taking the suit back and laying it on the table, “The sensitivity was off, you move too quickly for the field to properly adapt. I want to try to enhance that. We wouldn’t want you to get caught while moving between cover.”
Leyra tilted her head and looked at the suit. Only two days ago, there had been a bloody hole in the side, just above the right thigh. Now, most people would never know it had been damaged. It was one of the advantages of having a mechanic who was also the son of an accomplished seamstress. She had to commend him on his fine work, but she’d found that doing so often led him to slack.
James moved over to the table and examined the suit more closely. He picked it up and looked closely at the miniature generator attacked to the spinal column.
“Ray, I can’t send Leyra out wearing this. The filter is disconnected. If the FADE system was activated now, it would overload and electrocute her,” he said, drawing Ray’s attention to a small connector that he had detached during the maintenance.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said. He pulled out his tools again and quickly fixed his mistake. As James and Leyra turned their backs and started to walk back toward the elevator, he glared at James. Only he would be so bold as to call attention to one of Ray’s mistakes. The elevator doors closed behind the couple and Ray turned back to the suit.
“Soon, you’ll regret disrespecting me,” he muttered to himself, “and you’ll wish you’d treated me better.” He continued working on the bodysuit, making minor adjustments to the sensitivity.
Standing outside the elevator, Leyra crossed her arms and looked back. James stopped and turned to face her. He had never known her to have any problem with Ray, but she seemed troubled by what had just happened.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking her hand. She looked back at him and sighed, then pulled her hand away and closed the door. It was rare that she allowed him to hold her hand, so he wasn’t surprised.
She walked toward the kitchen and looked at the clock, then said “He seems a little different today. Did something happen last night while I was at the store?” She had been away for about an hour, picking up supplies, and she’d found Ray angry about something upon her return, but he had refused to tell her what was wrong. James had been in a similar state.
James sighed and nodded, then told her “Ray and I had a disagreement about whether or not to incorporate the new FADE upgrades in your suit. He wanted to test them, and figured that you were the perfect subject, but I refused because of your injury.”
She looked down the hall toward, the elevator, then turned back to James. She had always believed that such decisions were hers to make, but this was apparently not the case, as he had just demonstrated.
“Why would you do that?” she asked, taking a step back, “I would have gladly tested the suit, you know that. But you decided to treat me like an invalid because of something so minor. Where do you get off telling other people what I can and can’t do?” She turned and quickly marched out the door. She pulled open the door on James’ old truck, got in, and slammed it shut.
James rushed out the door to find Leyra pulling his truck out of the driveway and speeding away. He cursed and went back inside to track her. If she got too close to Ottawa, she might run into one of the salvage crews, and that was the last thing anyone wanted.
Within a few minutes, Leyra pulled the truck over and parked. She got out and sat on the grass with her back against the wheel. She kept replaying her conversation with James in her mind. She thought that maybe she shouldn’t have run out like that. He loved her, and he had been trying to protect her. She looked up at sun, now much higher in the sky, and decided to head back before he got too worried. He could track her, and she was close enough that a salvage crew might find her.
She climbed back into the truck and made her way back to the village. James was waiting in the driveway when she pulled up. She shut off the engine and slowly climbed out.
“Waiting or tracking?” she asked him as she closed the door. He had a stern expression on his face, and she could see that he was angry. She walked up and sighed. She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could say a word, he hugged her.
“I was worried,” he said, letting her go and stepping back, “There are salvage crews downtown. A few of them were starting to move east.” He turned his back to her and sighed.
“It’s alright, I didn’t go far. Just needed time to think,” Leyra said. She reached for her hand and smiled, “Let’s go inside, it’s starting to get cloudy, and I’m still feeling kind of tired.”
James and Leyra walked back into the house, and Leyra headed into their bedroom. She looked at the calendar and wondered if she would be able to stay in the house until her next mission. She dreaded the thought, but it seemed like her only option.
Chapter 2
Orleans, Canada
Monday, January 24, 2107, 10:00EST
Leyra adjusted her mirror as she approached the Place d’Orleans shopping centre. Scott and Ryan were debating something in the back, but she couldn’t clearly hear them over the engine. Rachel was calmly reaching an old book called Throne of Jade. They were Leyra’s team, that had never been questioned. Ryan was fairly new, having replaced Gordon, but Rachel and Scott had been with her since she had first been given command of her own team. She trusted them with her life, and they trusted her and each other with theirs.
“We’re here,” she said as she pulled into the old parking lot. As she did every time she came here, she quickly drove across the lot and found the covered parking lot. Salvagers were known to fly overhead, and the last thing anyone needed was for them to spot the Scrap Heap sitting outside. It would surely give them away.
Scott and Rachel were the first out of the truck, followed by Ryan with more equipment than was necessary. The others laughed and told him to put most of it back. All anyone would need was their 9.7 SIP and their FADE suit. Leyra wondered if they would even need their FADE suits, it was known that the salvagers hadn’t returned to Orleans for several months, but they had been approaching the east end of the city, so it was better to err on the side of caution.
Leyra made her way to the large fountain. In times before the war, it had been a great sight. Now it empty. She set up command equipment and ordered each of her team members to search certain parts of the mall. Rachel was to check the west section for anything useful, Scott the east. Ryan was given the easiest of all, the second floor. Though it was easily as much ground to cover as Rachel and Scott had combined, there was less chance of finding anything useful, so it would be a less thorough search.
A few hours passed, and Rachel returned empty handed. Scott had located some old electronics in the Zellers, but nothing particularly useful. Some of the circuitry could probably be used to upgrade FADE suits. The three were conversing while awaiting Ryan’s return.
They suddenly heard two gunshots from above. They looked up to see Ryan running from an unknown pursuer. There was another shot, and a bullet struck Ryan in the back, not far from his heart. He stumbled over the railing and through the window, and fell down to the floor next to the fountain. Rachel checked him, and found that he was already dead. Leyra looked up and saw a salvager turning away. She ran up the old escalator and shot him in the leg.
“Bitch!” shouted the salvager as Leyra approached. She had shot him straight through the back of the knee. She kicked him onto his back and placed her foot on his throat. She didn’t apply any pressure, but she was ready to crush his wind pipe without hesitation, and she pointed her SIP at his left eye to be sure he cooperated.
“How many other salvagers are here?” she asked. He was shaking under her foot. She couldn’t tell if it was due to pain or terror, but she found that she didn’t care. He had murdered a member of her team, she intended to make sure he didn’t leave.
“None. I was sent alone, to wipe out the other three. But he told them to spare you…so they told me to do so as well.” His wound was bleeding profusely, and he would only be conscious for a few more moments.
“He? Who told them to spare me?” she demanded, placing some pressure on his throat. Before she got an answer, he passed out, either from pain or blood loss. She didn’t waste another moment. She pressed down hard with her foot, crushing his wind pipe, and left him to die. It would only take a minute or so.
As she returned to the fountain, she found that Rachel and Scott had already packed up. She picked up her spare ammunition and motioned back toward the dead salvager.
“We’ve been betrayed,” she said, walking toward the door, “We have to get back to the village. They’re in danger.” The three of them broke into a run and climbed into the Scrap Heap. They drove quickly toward the open lot. As they did, they saw three Union Forces trucks drive by at high speeds. They would never be able to catch the trucks, and they had to stay behind to avoid detection. Leyra did her best to keep up, but she knew she would be too late. Her only hope was that the base defences would be enough, but with an insider helping, she was almost certain that they wouldn’t be.