Ultima Ratio

Chapter 32: Just Deserts

It took them two weeks to traverse the rest of Africa with Sergeant Sam and his entourage. After their relative win in Madagascar, spirits were high amongst both the military and the civilians, and the public relations division decided to use that excitement to their advantage.

As a result, the sergeant's time on the continent included more appearances and opportunities to mingle with the locals. A few were "unscheduled stops" as well, and the kindhearted Sergeant Sam just wanted to visit a hospital in Cape Town, a high school in Bangui, and a homeless shelter in Bamako.

And for fourteen days, there was no word from Concordia. While there were sightings of them drifting in the distant sky, there was no violence or destruction left in their path. People were optimistic; some were even hopeful.

The world was silent—and then it wasn't.

The Aegis Squad, Sam, and the Freedom Force were flying north through the Sahara Desert from Khartoum, Sudan, to rendezvous with the Crusader outside of Alexandria, Egypt. They had only been in the air for twenty minutes when an alarm began to blare from the cockpit, and everyone froze.

"What's wrong?" Akira asked from her seat along the side of the cabin, already securing her boots to the deck.

"We're being targeted," the pilot said, their gaze darting over the dozens of sensors. "Enemy fire incoming from the west."

The co-pilot's hands flew over the controls. "Commencing evasive maneuvers. Hold onto something!"

Akira tensed as she deployed her helmet and gripped her harness seatbelt, then tore her eyes from the cockpit to look across from her. Along the opposite side of the cabin was Sam, his horrified expression matching the sensation in Akira's gut as his wide eyes locked onto hers.

Sam wasn't a soldier, no matter how much the military flaunted to the public that he was. He insisted on enlisting because he wanted to keep people safe and give them hope, just like his parents had dedicated their lives doing. But as much as he disliked Concordia, he could never hurt any of their citizens, not like everyone else in the plane had done at some point in their lives. He shouldn't have to pay the price of war.

But before Akira could provide him with empty reassurances that everything was going to be fine, a hand rested palm-up on Sam's thigh. Beside him, Jivan wore an uncharacteristically solemn face as they met Sam's gaze, waiting patiently for him to accept their silent offer. It only took a moment for Sam to interlace their fingers, and both of their white knuckles and tense tendons could be seen from across the cabin.

The scene should have been comforting; instead, it filled Akira with cold dread.

Suddenly, the alarms crescendoed, and the high-pitched sirens echoed in her empty mind. She could feel the tremors escalating at her feet and gravity shifting within her as if she was being thrown around like a ragdoll. Smoke burned her throat; iron lingered heavily in the air. Pain shot up her spine; her right arm felt like it was on fire.

Come on, Akira, a familiar baritone filled her ears. Akira...

"Akira!" Danya's hiss sliced through the memory.

Akira jerked in her seat before she could stop herself. In that instant, the sirens settled to a bearable buzz in her ears, and the only pain that lingered was akin to a throbbing itch under her skin. Still, the acrid odors hung in her lungs, refusing to leave.

If anyone noticed her strange behavior, they didn't show it; they were too busy bracing themselves as the plane spun through a series of sharp turns and steep climbs. Only with that relative reassurance was Akira able to identify and calm her short breaths.