Jackie's mind was running on fumes. Tired and beaten, he trusted the women would be safe to travel with the given instructions. He was mindlessly stumbling through the streets, the sunrise coming soon. He used Dan's phone to make a call. He had only one person in mind. Ashley.
With a tired voice, Ashley answered. "Hello…?"
"Ash."
"Jackie?! You ok?!"
He had so little energy to even explain his situation. "AM. Meet me at the… AM." He hung up and pocketed the phone, limping his way over to the AM, as promised…
The time blended. He was awake, but not really. Then he collapsed, knocked out.
Jackie shot up later, waking up in a street covered with fog. It didn't look like a city. It was like a snapshot of a town that had yet to load. The grey abyss surrounded Jackie as he got up. In his regular clothes. The navy hoodie. The outer coat. The jeans. He was confused. He looked up to see what was there. The mural of Francis Rice. He rubbed his face, attempting to wake up from the dream. Suddenly, he heard a voice. Tiffany.
She walked from behind him, walking circles around the man. "Hey, Jack."
"Wha…?" Jackie said, his lip quivering upon seeing her again. He wanted to reach out, but he knew it wasn't real.
"You ok? You look… Tired."
Tired…
Before he could answer she disappeared. Walking in from the void was a masked man, blood on his clothes, shaggy hair and a smirk of self-righteousness. He looked like Jackie. But he wasn't. He was Ultraviolence. "Sup?"
Jackie sighed. "Fuck you."
UV laughed. "Your mind is a fucking mess. You need to face the truth."
"Fuck you," Jackie said again, sitting on the street. "You're crazy."
"We're Crazy," UV corrected. "You are Ultraviolence. You only separate us because you don't have the balls to realize that in order for good to happen we must burn it down."
Jackie covered his head, attempting to block out his twin. "Shut up."
"You have good in you. You would make Francis and his family proud."
"SHUT UP."
"Why did you spare Albain? Because you knew that he would do good in the world. You know what needs to be done in order to change the world. Accept me."
"FUCK!" Jackie yelled, rocking back and forth, the voices surrounding him. "SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
The voice was real close to his ear. "Remember that day in Zora. Remember…"
July 18th, 2003. Lamoni, Zora.
Jackie and Bill were posted up from afar, an umbrella hiding them from the scorching heat. They overlooked the village, seeing who came in or out. The radio wasn't too far, with the song being Steal My Sunshine by LEN. Bill loved that song, saying it reminded him of his time before the army. Jackie was about 16 when he heard that song play for the first time. Then again, he didn't have a great time being a teenager.
Jackie was watching the cars with binoculars, writing notes with his sweat covered notepad, noting who came in or out, guessing if they were BLP or not. If Albain or anyone associated with him showed up, they'd raid the village. Bill was in charge protecting Jackie, making sure he wasn't snuck up on.
Bill was tapping his rifle to the song, then a thought popped in his head. "Say, Jackie."
"Hm?" Jackie responded, busy with the surveying work.
"You were in Korea right?" Bill asked.
Jackie's face twitched in confusion at the question. "Yeah? For like a few weeks, why?"
"I mean I was probably headed over there for a bit before Iraq. The pussy nice?"
"Dude…"
"What?" Bill said with surprise. "We're dudes here."
Jackie glanced at Bill. "I'm not gonna give you a pussy review. Not like I was swimming in it."
"Fine. But if the shit wack I'm blaming you."
That elicits a chuckle from Jackie as he finishes scribbling the last of his notes.
The village of Lamoni was medium-sized. Decently sized concrete houses, a good market, and happy people. Jackie's stomach turned at the thought of raiding such a peaceful village. He hated this. He wanted to just cut his losses, but something in him told him to stay. Just for this mission, he thought. He even doubted if Albain would even show up. The war was basically over. The BLP won. Munidi Kipto was decapitated on live television in May. The scraps of the AAF disbanded, leaving a few soldiers of fortune for Kyle to lead. Like what the General said, the rebellion mattered little to the mission. They just wanted Albain for their own petty reasons.
Hours go by, from morning to mid afternoon. Finally, he saw him. Albain. "Shit," Jackie said. He saw him walk out of a car and get in the large compound near the edge of town. "We got action."
The army that was left was lined up and ready to go. Jackie ran up to Kyle as he mapped things out. "We got a plan?"
Kyle rubbed his chin. "No. They have the knowledge and the firepower. We do have the numbers, however. We charge the village and engage until we reach that house, by any means."
"Ok," Jackie said, turning to leave.
"Wait, got something to tell you, White. It gets hard. I get it, following orders. You want to ask questions, get to the bottom of things. I learned that shit is pointless. And it helped, at least."
Jackie had nothing to say at that, he nodded and left, arming himself for battle. He questioned still, why kill the man who wanted to help his people?
The army stood at the ready. Ram, Rook, TD, and Mother were at the front, ready to charge. As fast as lightning, the army wildly slammed into the village, with the scream of children and mothers as the backdrop. Then the shots fired. BLP soldiers crawled from their houses ready to defend their village. Rook found cover behind a house, witnessing his fellow soldiers kicking in doors to shoot at whatever moved. He could only hope a child didn't add to the body count.
As the few BLP members dropped dead, Ram and Rook were next to each other running from house to house, shooting at whatever moved. The volume was flushed out, only allowing the sounds of bullets slamming into objects to take precedence. Ram signaled to hurry to the market. As they reached it with a few of their men, a shrapnel bomb dropped between them, most likely from the roof. "Fuck!" Ram yelled. "MOVE!" He rushed to push Rook out the way as the explosion went off.
All Rook could hear now was ringing. Strong, consistent ringing. His eyes blurred as they refocused, staring at the afternoon sky somehow darkening with smoke. He looked up, seeing Ram dead. His body ripped apart by the shrapnel. Pieces of iron and scrap lodged in his skull, his leg was long gone like the rest of the soldiers caught in the blast, and his body was like a pin cushion. Rook was safe, only having the blood of Ram on his face. He got up and hid behind a building, pulling out his hand radio. "Mother!" He said. "Ram is KIA. I repeat. Ram is KIA. What's your position?"
Mother was shooting, the fire could be heard through the radio. "Me and TD–Shit! We're near the compound! You can't miss us. Get here, now! Over!"
Rook did as he said, running over to the compound. A building was burning nearby, plunging the battlefield into darkness, the flame embers being their backdrop. The compound only had two windows, so the last of the soldiers holed up fired relentlessly. Mother's army was almost down. In an act of desperation, Mother went to the side to distract the window shooters while TD and Rook charged the front. Mother got rocked with bullets to the body. TD breached the door with his shotgun and went inside.
TD led the charge, shooting at the men who were closest as Rook used his rifle to provide support. Things changed as they reached the narrow staircase. Somebody was waiting. They popped out and riddled TD with bullets. As Rook was right behind him, he fell right on top. Both of them fell down the stairs. Using his old friend as a bullet shield, He pulled out his pistol and killed the shooter upstairs. Rook pushed TD off him, his corpse heavy as stone. He had no time to stare at it. He grabbed his rifle and walked upstairs. Oddly, the upstairs was quiet. He crept the halls, checking if anyone survived. From the sound of it, nobody did. He saw a door that was closed at the end of the hall. Reaching it, he kicked open the door and aimed his rifle at the man himself, Albain. "Hands up!" He yelled.
Albain, looking on in curiosity, did as he was told. "I live still."
Jackie gave him a face. "So?"
"I am no fool, American. You were sent to kill me, yes?"
"... Officially. Yeah."
Albain turned his head. "You have a reason for keeping me alive?"
"I want to know why," Jackie answered. "Why you. Why do they want you dead? I read your files over and over again. It makes no sense."
Albain gestured to lower his hands. Jackie nodded. "No offence, but you're a puppet playing their game. They call me a terrorist. Do you know why they're even in Zora?"
Jackie shook his head.
"Oil. In the 80s, my people rebelled against the French. It was a fair fight. The US got involved, and offered aid for oil. In reality, we traded one oppressor for another."
Jackie looked confused still. Albain sensed that. "I returned to help my people. I love my parents, both Zoran and British. But my place is here. And I refuse to let anyone control my people. Kill them with no justice."
"Fine," Jackie said, frustrated. "This shit makes my head hurt. Go."
Albain smiled. "You will see. You've done the right thing."
Jackie rolled his eyes, leaning out the window, seeing the carnage, the bodies everywhere. The smoke piling on as families were surely dispersed. He saw some movement from near the compound. Kyle was still alive. He ran down, and called his contacts in the US for aid.