The Search

[Natalie Grey]

Ekene could see that Jared was tired, but he still didn't understand why the man was so clearly more tired than all the other legionnaires who had been involved in the fighting. He thought it would be a good thing to make sure Jared got some food and rest, and perhaps Ekene could make sure no one bothered him while he did.

"I'll come. My ma said never to turn down good food,"
he said, grinning. The expression abruptly melted from his face when he remembered that he didn't know what had happened to his family at all since he had left the village. Natalie had assured him that those left in Masiaka were fine, but that had been before the horrible things that had happened at the refinery. He knew Mr Timbo had died there, and that many of his classmates were also gone now. She hadn't seen his parents at all while there, but she also didn't like to talk about it. Natalie's expressions were cold, and she acted as though the tragedy was distant from her feelings, but Ekene thought she was hurting on the inside.

"Do you... do you know if Natalie died too? There was a witch in the camp. I told Natalie to stay away, but she tried to help her anyway. I think that was the bad luck that brought the bad soldiers here."
He spoke tentatively, and had waited until they were walking side by side before he asked, so that he had some space to master his expression. In case she really had died. It seemed the past few weeks had been full of cruel life lessons.

[Jay Carpenter]

Natalie's pale eyes roamed his leg. What did they see? He knew it was crazy. To go from barely able to stand, which was a generous description, to full on battle ready in a matter of days. Right after the injury happened, he recalled a sudden burst of energy that allowed him to get Natalie to safety from the street, another unnatural event that could barely be attributed to adrenaline and sheer determination. Vanders hadn't been around then. What else could it have been? Luck didn't exactly bestow her blessings upon Jay on a regular basis.

So what did Natalie see? Her concern was replaced with a touch of irritation, which morphed into introspection. Maybe he shouldn't have stepped back. She seemed to want personal space. But on the other hand, the absence of her hand was colder than it should in the African air.

Whatever the catalyst, he was a quiet listener to her story. A fire? Damn. He knew fires. He knew the intensity of the heat. Even at a distance, a large fire poured sweat down your face. As a kid, the family had bonfires every Saturday night - unless there was a high school football game. Those were usually reserved for Fridays, but special occasions scheduled them to Saturday once in a while. The bonfires were fond memories for Jay. Family and friends gathering together. Hot dogs. Marshmellows. Someone always played guitar. Sometimes the kids blew off fireworks hoarded from the summertime. He'd always been slightly weary of the flames. He assumed the care and respect for fire was something passed down by his dad and grand dad, but there was something ancient about fire that flickered like a warning when he got too close. It didn't stop him from tending it. From poking and prodding to rearranging logs or adding kindling. But he was careful about it.

What would that have been like? Trapped inside four flaming walls? Unable to get out? It took her months to recover? How did she escape?

It felt wrong to keep the truth from her. She might not believe it. But calling him on the side-stepped lie was a good enough a sign to know when to fess up. She played along, though. Not outright asking to be told. And he considered stalling, but it wasn't worth it. Not now. She knew. "Vanders. I mean, Jared. Jared Vanders."
Wizard was the one that restored her to health. Not Jay. He'd dragged her out of the fire, but that didn't mean it saved her life. Who knew what kind of state she'd be in now if it wasn't for the Legion's resident wizard.

Neither did it seem right to lead her into thinking he was here on some order. He wasn't a baby sitter anymore. Not since his own knee had been patched up. In fact, it was the opposite. He was here because he circumvented orders. He flat out announced his departure and left, ignoring what anyone said about it.

Probably shouldn't tell her that though.

"Someone's gotta keep an eye on you. You have a knack for getting into trouble."
He grinned.

[Natalie Grey]

He accepted the half-sandwich, but only at her insistence. She left him little choice, since she didn't take a bite until he had plucked it from her outstretched hand. And she had all the patience of a mountain, despite the ravening pit of her stomach. Though she was glad when he took it. Even the slightly stale bread danced electric on her tongue - had anything ever tasted so good? The knot in her middle uncurled, the leaden weight of sleep beginning to call less urgently. He was right that it wasn't enough, though.

"Vanders."
Silence captivated her for a beat as she searched for the familiarity of the name. "He was at the refinery."
Her expression closed in carefully, until it was as utterly still as every hour she had ever sat in her father's court case. Cool radiated atop the horror of the memories, tightening claws of regret in her chest. She didn't want to think about it, but a morbid discipline picked everything apart with the shine of new information.

The sandwich suddenly tasted like ash. Questions cramped her tortured replay of events; how another like her might have had an impact, if he'd used his talents. Or she'd known about them. She'd dismissed Vanders with his message from Danjou, but she remembered he'd been there when she argued with Folami. Peripherally. Her attention had been clamped on Jay. Could things have resolved differently?

A cruel question.

Natalie sipped the milk to unstick her throat, perhaps the only outward sign of her discomfort. The blind faith in Azubuike's expression haunted her more than the uncertain bite of fear that tempered it. She'd watched from the window as Jay urged him to save himself, knowing even as her own heart sang a desperate plea to a god she scorned that he would refuse. Because he would never save his own skin and leave the rest of his people behind.

That knowledge weighted a stone in her gut even before Jay was forced to retreat. She'd watched Azu bundle Ayo into the back of one of the trucks. Saw the faith and trust light his expression from the inside out as they drove away.

Knowing what it meant.

Jay had avoided her gaze when he climbed into the humming vehicle; she'd known then that the whole scene sat ill with him. But she'd said nothing. Her own gaze had braced against his hard expression, then pulled away. The ride back to Freetown had been silent, Natalie's attention glued to the blur of passing scenery. It was the last time she'd seen Jay, until she'd woken up here.

The cold distance of her expression stretched into silence as she ate. The effort was mechanical, while within her feelings were neatly compartmentalised, the box that housed them swept away from sight. She spoke no more on it. But the aftertaste washed out the pleasant feelings of before. Once finished she brushed the crumbs from her fingers, and hauled herself up to her feet. It was easier the second time.

"Says you, the man hamstrung by a ten year old?"
A playful smirk offset the scathing nature of her humour. Questions darted beneath the surface. He'd known she was uninjured, but brought her here anyway. It sounded a little like dereliction, except that she knew the value he placed on duty. Her gaze scanned his face, curious, though she made no accusations.

It was markedly selfish of her, but she was glad of the respite, and of the distance it provided. Natalie carried responsibility like a mantle, but forever shucked the chains that bound her. Africa was her choice, of course, but she certainly hadn't been seeking the complication of civil war. Though then again, she couldn't say what she sought in leaving London. Just the supplication of a restless spirit, perhaps. When was she ever content?

The boyish grin warmed a smile from her. The silence of the past few moments erased with that look.

"I need a shower. Desperately. And they need the cot back. Give me five minutes."


He was free to follow or stay put, but she wasn't joking about the itching need.

The hospital was packed, the corridors lined with beds and patients. They crouched along the walls where they had neither ward nor cot, awaiting attention. The astringent scent of blood and antiseptic rolled about in her half-empty stomach, made her feel sick as she threaded her way through them. The harried faces of doctors and nurses passed in a blur. A cacophony of sound. Screams. Begging. The aftermath of the city's shelling, and days of fighting. With netlands hospital reduced to useless rubble, the strain cracked remaining resources. Wallace-Johnson had closed the city to all willing aid. The repercussions bled before her.

Her brow puckered, her steps faltering, jaw tight. But she didn't know how to do what Jared Vanders did, nor had the strength to do it even if she did. Walking away was a wrench, but she was adept at pretending she didn't care, and turned her attention to finding somewhere to clean up. A few directions aided her way through the press of people and equipment. She kept her gaze away from the children in particular, until she found the showers.

Natalie stepped into the warmth with relief; it enlivened her almost as much as the food. A sigh misted her breath; she pressed her head against the porcelain tiles, the luke-warm water streaming over her shoulders. A grimy trail swirled down the grate by her toes, but she barely saw it enough to feel disgust. The names of the lost children stamped a silent march through her mind. Then the faces, real and imagined, she had no names for. Jacques Danjou heaved Sierra Leone up by the roots. Reality closed a noose. There was no school to go back to, not without Azu. And she didn't want to think about it now, but she needed closure before she let that part of her life go.

Tomorrow. Thoughts and problems for tomorrow.

It felt better to be clean, at least. The hospital didn't have much in the way of clothing, but she preferred it over the dirt-caked scraps remaining to her despite the ill fit. An unshapely dress that hung to her knees. An oversized wool cardigan that was at least a pleasing shade of royal blue. Damp hair curled over one shoulder. The sharp tang of hospital soap competing a little nauseatingly with the faint mustiness of the borrowed clothes. She'd kept her own boots; scuffed but comfortable. Thinking of the days ahead.

Her stomach rang empty again, but the hollowness felt less like teetering on the edge of collapse and more like simple hunger. Stepping back into the chaos of the hospital, she searched for Jay.

[Jared Vanders]

Jared let out a slight chuckle at Ekene's mention of what his mother had told him about food. "Your mother taught you well."


Jared led the way to the mess area, frowning a bit at Ekene's question. It wasn't the mention of Ms. Grey, but rather the witch. "Ms. Grey is doing just fine,"
he smiled at him, but left out that she was under the personal observation of Jay - yeah something was happening there. "A witch you say?"
Jared asked.

[Jay Carpenter]

Nothing about his time in Freetown sat well with Jay. From the first day, pulling Natalie out of the hospital and getting disabled by a ten-year-old to the setup at the refinery to becoming a real soldier again. All of it left a bad taste in his mouth. He went back and forth on his belief in Jacques as a leader, never deciding if the man was a stupid hero or a calculating conqueror. In the end, it probably didn't matter. Jay was here by choice, free to rip up his contract and walk away. Although if he did that the closest thing he'd get to mercenary life afterward would be mall-cop in the Des Moines mall.

He was here voluntarily. He stayed voluntarily. He owed it to the Hellcats, owed it to Vanders as a debt to repay for patching him up.

And Vanders had patched him up. Something told Jay that Jared wasn't even aware of his potential healing spells until the last couple of days. For one thing, Jay had to ask if it would work on his knee. When it did, Jared seemed as shocked as Jay.

There were plenty of people in the hospital that could use the services of a healing Mage. But Jay saw how much Jared spent to patch up Natalie. So the magic taxed the body. Made sense. Nothing was free; everything cost something.

Natalie was recovering quickly. Better than Jay had. He finished the half-sandwich in three large bites. Either it was a puny thing or he was starving from the day's excursion. Probably the latter. Natalie went in search of showers, which he understood. Fires were messy business, and the smell of smoke etched into your skin like tattoo ink. While she was gone, he took the time to go over his weapons, inventory what ammunition was left, inspect the contents of all his pockets. At one point he put the helmet back on to see if anyone had been trying to get ahold of him.

It powered up, and a rainbow of feeds came to life before his eyes, filling the screen.

Four messages from Legion Premiere seniors. Telling him to report. To bring back the mega expensive suit on his body. Asking about the status of their contracted Red Cross girl. So on and so on. He frowned and ignored them all for now. Only to hear a gasp behind him.

A nurse had entered the room. When Jay turned around to greet her, she screamed, fumbled her tray and darted out, screaming something in the local language that Jay figured wasn't good news. When he realized he was standing there holding the rifle he'd been inspecting, in full gear while wearing the helmet, he cursed and stepped out in the hall to explain himself.

"Wait!"


He emerged before three large men, probably doctors, one of whom held a fire extinguisher, another held a gun, and the third wielded a heavy cane. Apparently they were going to shoot the soldier, then whack him to death and spray him down with foam.

Actually, Jay eyed the fire extinguisher the most. At this range, the pistol would probably ping off his armor, and the cane would be laughable, but the fire extinguisher could muck up the gears in his suit, or at the best, cover his face shield.

He put one hand up in the universal sign of a peacekeeper, while the other angled the rifle toward the floor. "I'm going to take off my helmet,"
he warned them, and slowly lifted his free hand to his head. When it was off, blue eyes darted between the three men warily, "See? I'm with Legion Premiere."


The three men exchanged looks. All around them, movement in the hallway slowed. Nurses watched. Patients lifted their heads from cots. Only noise was the beeps and ticks of machinery.

They yelled something in unison and the three men rushed him.

"What the hell!"
Jay backed off. He had no intention of hurting any of them.

He quickly swung the rifle around his body, having zero intention of shooting anyone today. And a man never pointed a gun he didn't intend to shoot.

Helmet in one hand, he swung it at the man with the pistol, needing to disarm him quickly. The man ducked of course, which Jay counted on, and he grabbed his flailing arm, clamped down on the wrist and wrenched the arm up and out, putting intense pressure on the shoulder socket. He was easily able to grab the gun away then. He tossed the man to the floor.

The other two were going on about something along the lines of foreigners conquering their city, and Jay guessed they were Mende by what he could make out. Using the helmet as a block, he parried the cane with a wide swing of the arm, and put an elbow in the guy's jaw in order to wrench the cane away. That left the fire extinguisher, which slammed into his other shoulder with a painful thud that made him stagger. For the most part, it richocheted off the rubber of the exoskeleton suit, but the shoulder beneath absorbed enough of the impact to feel it.

Wielding the confiscated cane, he stood off with the doctor holding the fire extinguisher, wary of the man flipping it on and spraying him head to toe with foam. That would make for a hell of a slippery mess on these hospital floors.

"I'm with fucking Legion Premiere,"
he tried to reason with the man. But his eyes were glass, his face a scowl of hatred. Jay was very aware of the man's physical size, but he also kept an eye out for his two buddies. Not to mention the audience gathered around to watch. Someone was going to get hurt.

[Natalie Grey]

Relief wilted his shoulders. Ekene glanced at the floor as they walked, blinking rapidly until he gathered himself together. His fear that she had died had strengthened to belief in order to prepare himself for the possibility. Learning otherwise sparked uncertain tears to his eyes. But he didn't want to cry.

"Suwa'ye. Bad luck, Jared. We shouldn't talk about them."
Ekene frowned. "In the villages the kɛmamɔi come for witches. Teach them to be better. Cleanse the wickedness, see? But sometimes the witchfinders take them away. When the crops die or houses burn."
He wasn't sure how much to say to an outsider. It was complicated after all. Not all witches were bad exactly, but the ones with fever were dangerous. He considered that Jared might listen where Natalie had not.

"She had fever. The one here. That's why I warned Natalie away. I didn't want her to catch it. They always take away the ones with fever. They're bad luck, Jared, the suwa'ye."

---

The heat and noise hit her immediately. Natalie wasn't entirely sure where she was in relation to where she had left Jay, but began to make her weary way back through the chaotic corridors, more than eager to leave the hospital behind. He would not exactly be difficult to spot. But it was gruff yelling that drew her attention first, followed by Jay's shout. Her face paled, and she swallowed decorum to fight her way through. The corridor congested with a swelling audience as she neared, until finally spotting the back of his blonde head.

Five minutes. She'd left him five minutes.

Her body reacted without mind's consent. The gift rushed in sweet but quickly needled sharp; she was too weak to contain it, and it burned as it pulled her further in. A dangerous precipice, but still she pushed on, using the euphoria as a crutch in lieu of strength to push her way through the people gathered.

Natalie knew snatches of Mende, and slightly more Krio; the latter of which she used to call out sharply, not unlike she might have spoken to unruly pupils. "Duya lɛf!"
She shouldered her way through despite a faint tug against her shoulder, an unseen attempt to urge her back. One man already on the floor, another clutching at his face, a third wielding a fire extinguisher.

She wasn't thinking as she shoved her way into the middle of them, lit inside out with invulnerability. It was deep rooted instinct that sought to calm the situation. And maybe a touch of irritation. "There has been enough blood spilled, sir."
Spindles of light danced electric before her eyes, spinning and twisting, their edges fraying in a worrying manner. But she didn't know how to stop it even if she wanted to.

A pale, determined gaze met the doctor's glare; more bluff than she cared to admit, for she could feel the weariness eating her up. The fire extinguisher grew heavier in his hands, a coil of light tangling its base. Small wisps plucked at his fingers, slipping his grip. Urging him to release it. "We're leaving,"
she added softly. Sweat beaded her brow. Control began to slither free as surely as his hold. It hurt too much to hold on.

The threads snapped suddenly. Natalie took a sharp breath, just as the doctor darted forward.

[Jay Carpenter]

He knew this looked bad. The power armored suit must look like science fiction to the poor hospital staffers. The weapons would be recognized, as did the confidence of a man who knew how to use them. But one distinct difference remained. Jay wasn't filled with hate. Or with violence for the sake of being violent. He was careful to keep cool. For command of the situation came with those who kept their calm. Hah. A rather ironic mantra for him, given the nature of his less than honorable discharge from the marines.

The two doctors disarmed of their would-be weapons were recovering, or aided in recovery by arms pulling them away. The third, clearly the biggest and meanest of the three, held his ground. Behind him, Jay noticed the woman that brought Natalie her food. She could have vouched for him. But the woman held her tongue. Probably wouldn't believe her anyway.

A flash of blonde hair caught his eye, followed by the stern command in the local language. Natalie literally planted herself in front of him, facing down the threat with nothing but her bare hands and fierce gaze.

In the moment it took him to get over the shock of the whole situation, the man darted forward. Jay's fists tightened.

It was one thing to stand up to him. But to rush an unarmed woman.

The man hoisted the fire extinguisher as Jay grabbed Natalie's arm and yanked her out of the way. His heart pounded as red flashed near to her skull, only to slip from the attacker's hands at the last moment.

He spun Natalie away, taking her place. A jab to the collarbone and sweep of the legs out the man on the floor without so much as a broken bone. Broken ego, probably, given the defiant look on his face.

"Like she said, we are leaving."


He released the man from the choke hold, kicking he fire extinguisher far from reach. He chucked the cane as well and quickly disassembled the confiscated pistol and left the pieces behind. He kept the ammunition, though.

He and Natalie hurried out of there.

"Would you believe I didn't start that?"
He looked down at her, smirking.

[Natalie Grey]

It hurt, like a whip lashed hard into her face. She was still blinking away the pain when something grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. By the time the whooshing heart-beat at her temples subsided, Natalie was tucked safely behind Jay. She gingerly touched her nose, expecting blood, but her palm came away clean, and there was no throb of pain. The shining threads had split from her control and cracked back, imprinting a flash across her gaze - that too now fading. Darkness crept where the power had been, warning her against further use. Fatigue quickly filled up the spare space. She needed to learn how to use this.

"Suwa'ye."
The whispered accusation rippled from the disarmed doctor, burrowing its way into the crowd; it travelled in a hiss, people falling back from the aftermath. Natalie's lips flickered a frown, once again steeling herself for confrontation. She'd done nothing overt to deserve the condemnation, and they didn't need the complicated baggage such an insult carried, but the man's injured glare was unfocused. Concern eased a little. He might just mean the effortlessness with which Jay dispatched three men -- the word itself only meant extraordinary power -- but still, it was not a kind one; not when it seethed like that, and caused others to recoil and wonder. It was the final blow of the defeated. A lingering smear to soothe a battered pride. But no-one stopped them leaving.

Outside, the sun clawed bloody gouges in the sky; a deep and brooding sunset. Dust choked a clean breath; Natalie tried not to inhale too deeply, her throat tickling, but was glad to leave the hospital.

Behind them a triage tent billowed beside the building, housing those not lucky - or urgent - enough to find themselves within. A little guilt chimed in her chest as she clapped eyes on it. The noises and groans emanating on the dry breeze curled barbs in her heart, but she turned her attention away. Devastation rent the view. In the distance, buildings hung like ragged teeth; some crumbled entirely where the shells had hit. She could smell smoke, and red blazes dotted the darkness. Pockets of dust danced in the air. The faint wailing of sirens following on the wind.

The fighting had stopped, evident by the milling of people - many dazed. But the aftermath crowded as dark as the approaching night. Sierra Leoneans were a gregarious and warm people. Peace - or what passed for such in Africa - had reigned the past fifty years, but plenty had longer memories. Their world ripped and they met it with admirable courage and aplomb, which perhaps explained why the streets were not quiet following such a tragedy. The people were tense, perhaps, but they were also practical.

Her mind set for the first time on what she might find when they returned to the embassy. Duty pulled her back there; she was acutely aware of the tug, and it suddenly felt like chains.

"I believe you didn't mean to."
She smirked, making a pointed inspection along the lines of his battle suit and rifle, before her gaze flicked back up to his face. She was used to the barrier of his landwarriors; a soldier's anonymity. His eyes were very blue, and meeting them suffused warmth in her stomach. She tipped her shoulder into a half shrug. "They knew what you were saying. But perhaps not who Legion Premiere are."
Or maybe they did and picked a target to vent frustration.

"Will you be in much trouble when we go back?"

[Jared Vanders]

Jared got his plate of food, letting those at the counter know that Ekene was with him, and led the young boy to a seat. Ekene's story resonated with Jared. He was one of those that Ekene thought was bad luck - the suwa'ye.

The fever - it had to be the sickness. What would Ekene do if he knew. So far, the majority of the locals were very superstitious. One day, he hoped that Ekene would understand that they weren't bad luck - they just didn't know how to control their gift, and a gift it was.

"You were worried about Ms. Grey."
Jared said, taking a bite of the sandwich in front of him. The food itself helped revitalize. "It speaks very highly of you that you put her needs in such a light."

Jared smiled, once again remembering the scared little boy he had first met. Jared wished he had something to give him - a toy or something that Ekene could enjoy. It was sad that Ekene had to grow up so fast. He should be able to just be a child.

[Jay Carpenter]

Surprisingly, Jay was able to shrug just fine in the power armored suit. Would he get in trouble? Eh probably. Would he care? Probably not. Not that he dismissed any and all sense of honor when it came to his role with the Legion, but because something else had been more important than honor at the time. That something was walking on her own two feet now. Besides, the worst had already happened to him, booted from the Raiders. What else could Jacques Danjou do to him? Well. He probably could do a lot. Would he? He wasn't a barbarian. Not like he was going to amputate his own soldiers for fudging orders. Or throw a noose around his neck for walking out. Hell. Maybe he'd get a promotion? Hah. Right.

"I might, but I'm not to worried about it,"
he told Natalie. No point letting her think anything serious might happen. Even if it did, it still wasn't her fault. Jay made his own choices. He laid in his own bed. Wasn't like they were going to cut out a piece of his heart and make him watch as it was thrown to the wolves.

Turned out, he did get in trouble. As far as ass-chewings go, it wasn't that bad, and he was able to eye glaze most of the tirade from his mind. That was lesson number two in boot camp for the green-faced hero of high school that suddenly found himself in deep water. He spent a week on midnight shift watch, though. For the most part, he didn't mind. The nights were quiet in general now that Katlego's men had surrendered and Wallace-Johnson was dead. The temperature dropped too. Jay always preferred warm, humid air to cool breezes, but every once in a while right before sunrise, the wind would take just the right path and carry the scent of sea water to his perimeter. He'd close his eyes and drink in the scent, letting his senses go. And for a moment he could almost hear the crash of waves, see the stars glitter like diamonds, and nearly tremble with heated memories.

So it wasn't all that bad.

He was only able to keep track of Natalie peripherally over the next few days. She didn't need a personal escort any more. And now that Jay was on his own two feet, he was put to work. For one thing, he was promoted to platoon commander, a Lieutenant, a junior rank but still a commissioned officer. Hell it was a lot more than he expected from the marines. Course, the dead bodies in Jeddah had something to do with it. The ranks needed filled and apparently Jay wasn't a completely useless meatsack.

The Red Cross was busy, so that meant Natalie was busy too. He still wasn't quite sure what she did for them, or how she managed to end up in Freetown. She seemed rather high born, if such a term was relevant in 2046. Maybe it was her accent. Either way, he meant to ask her whenever he saw her, but as soon as he did, he never got around to it. Likewise, he meant to be there when she found Vanders, but he missed that too.

Things seemed rather calm at the moment in Freetown. Until the rumors that various diseases were on the upswing. Some of them were things Jay never even heard of. But given the ten thousand vaccines he had as a Raider, he wasn't too worried about contracting anything too nasty.

Unless it was a cold. Those viruses were bitches to get over.