Vaughn sat alone in the lifeless room for about ten minutes before a guard who looked more like a bloodthirsty animal walked in and sat opposite from him. A few minutes after the guard walked in, he started to try and intimidate Vaughn.
“Aw... the rebel gonna die?” He said.
Vaughn stared at the ground. He’d gotten good at that.
The guard leaned halfway across the table.
“You listening to me? You’re nothing more than a filthy rat, rebel. ‘You have talent’, Scott says. Talent as a failure. How come the rebels aren’t dancing in the streets? Huh!?”
The guard leaned completely across the table so Vaughn could smell his breath.
“You hear me!? You’re a filthy r-”
Vaughn grabbed the back of the guard’s head, and held it against the table. Vaughn then stood up, and elbowed the guard in the back of the neck as hard as he could. The guard stopped squirming, and Vaughn threw his body off the table.
An alarm immediately went off, but Vaughn hardly cared. He searched the guard, and took his gun and ID card. No point in hiding. He’d already done too much.
Vaughn rushed to the door, and swiped the ID card in front of a green pad the size of his hand. The door slid open, and Vaughn put away the ID card, and pulled out the gun.
Immediately he ducked behind a table to avoid enemy fire. Once the firing stopped, he looked above the table and shot one guard, who flew backward in disarray.
Another guard to the left of him fired and broke an empty glass on the table in front of Vaughn. Vaughn whirled around and quickly shot the guard twice. Vaughn then realized the room was empty and hopped over the table and bolted for the elevator.
As he did, he heard a click, and a whirring sound behind him, but he didn’t dare stop. The whirring got louder and louder until Vaughn’s instincts told him to get low.
He was thankful for his instincts.
A glowing blue disk whirred just above him as he rolled on the ground and exploded on impact with the elevator door. Vaughn rolled inches under the explosion, then rolled back and stood up. But soon after he stood up, he ducked to avoid gunfire. He then ran around another table and ducked behind it.
The guard walked along the other side of the table with his gun ready.Vaughn took advantage of this, and went back around the table. Quietly, he stepped back around the table ending up behind the guard. The guard didn’t notice Vaughn, but when he did, it was too late because Vaughn had him in a headlock. Vaughn quickly hit him with a strike to the head that was an instant knockout.
Vaughn knew it wasn’t safe to go outside in a prison shirt, so he searched through a nearby maintenance closet, and found a black rain coat, and a silver sweatshirt.

Vaughn chuckled. Everything seemed so colorless since the SSO gained power.

Vaughn put the sweatshirt on over the prison shirt, and the rain coat over both. He had heard the soft tapping of rain inside his cell.

And it hadn’t stopped raining in weeks.

Vaughn closed the maintenance closet quietly, then bolted to the elevator once again. He flipped the hood to the raincoat over his head so no one would recognize him.

Just before Vaughn pressed the button to the elevator, he heard a long and loud beep come from it. Someone was coming onto that floor!

Vaughn sprinted away from the elevator faster than he had towards it. He heard the door open, and a split second after that, heard a flock of bullets shower over his head. Vaughn hopped over another table, and once he landed, he flipped the table over. Broken glass flew everywhere, and one guard lay on the ground in pain, with his leg limp.

Two more guards came out of their hiding places and fired simultaneously.

Both shots missed Vaughn by a wide angle. Vaughn lifted himself off the ground and fired two shots back. Both hit each guard. Vaughn hadn’t missed yet.

Vaughn then turned around and sprinted down the stairwell. As he sprinted down, he scarcely remembered back in Haven when he went down the steps to the hospital.

But those thoughts quickly vanished when he was rounding the corner to the ground floor.

When he collided face to face with another guard.

It looked a lot like Vaughn tackled the guard, but the two of them both fell down a short staircase. Vaughn noticed that the guard’s handcuffs fell from his belt, and he handcuffed the guard to the stair railings.

Vaughn took one last look at the lobby, with quite a few people glancing at him. Vaughn ignored their aggravated stares, and left the building.

After leaving, Vaughn turned right immediately. Three guards ran out the building after him, but didn’t recognize Vaughn with his back to them and his hood on. Vaughn looked exactly like what anyone would look like on a rainy afternoon.

Vaughn glanced back to see if the guards were still there, and when they weren’t, he accelerated his pace to a jog.

James Bult was right. He had talent. But he was wrong about wasting his talent.

Vaughn couldn’t waste his talent.

Because he’d just escaped an SSO prison.

Vaughn jogged in the strong afternoon rain. His raincoat was soaking and it was slowly flowing the water onto his sweatshirt underneath. It was cold. Vaughn decided he needed to get inside soon.

It was easy to find a house to stay in if you were a rebel. Most people hated the SSO, but were either planning to attack them, or too scared to.

Vaughn settled under an overhang on a restaurant. He glanced at a newspaper holder next to him and read the newspaper quietly to himself.

“April 11th, 2098. SSO report: Matthew Vaughn escaped from an SSO prison recently. Wanted for association with rebellion forces and assault and murder of SSO soldiers...” Vaughn sighed and threw the paper on the ground. “News sure gets out quickly now.”

Vaughn looked up at the sky as if trying to make out the shapes of the raindrops until a cold wind chilled him, and he hunched his shoulders and shivered.

A knock from the inside of the restaurant alarmed Vaughn. A familiar man looked out at Vaughn and glared.

“Hey!” His voice was muffled since he was inside, but Vaughn could hear what he was saying. “Get away from the door!”

Vaughn didn’t argue, but merely sighed and stepped out from under the overhang.

The man looked about forty, with black hair and a thick stubble that looked like he hadn’t shaved it in months. He was as tall if not a bit taller than Vaughn, and Vaughn felt as if he’d met the man before.

The man opened the door, and looked up at the sky.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Vaughn didn’t have any idea what the man was talking about.

“I reserved a seat, but you didn’t show up!”

The man shivered.

“It’s too cold out here to talk. Let’s go inside.”

Given the cold and wet weather, Vaughn didn’t argue. He followed the familiar man into the restaurant. The restaurant was much cheerier than the outside shell of a world around it. There was joyful music, and many people were smiling and laughing. Vaughn wondered how anyone could be so happy during these times.

The man walked near the middle of the restaurant and sat down at a table. He slid out a chair next to him and motioned for Vaughn to sit down.

They sat down, and the man motioned for a waitress to take his order. Vaughn couldn’t figure out why the man was so familiar.

The waitress was pretty. She was wearing a black t-shirt, and a gray apron that looked like it’d had enough work in its time. She was about the same age as Vaughn, and had a face that would’ve lit up Vaughn’s cell. She had curly blond hair that barely went over the top of her eyes, which sparkled like crystals.

“Hi, welcome to Brock’s Pub. I’m Emily, your waitress. So, can I start you off with something to drink, or are you ready to order?”

“We’ll have the special,” the man pointed to Vaughn and himself.

“Oh...” Emily put away her regular menu, and slid a green folder from under her arm. She placed it on the table. She then walked into the back room.

The man reached and opened the folder. Inside was a short fragment of words : Mac& Cheese.

The man sighed and sat back in his chair.

It was silent until Emily came back.

“Your meals are ready, gentlemen. You guys can come back, though. The chef wants to see the look on your faces when you try it,” she smiled and led Vaughn and the man through the kitchen.

The man all of a sudden looked very tense and very serious. He followed Emily through the kitchen with a silent stride.

Emily led the two to a wooden door. She cupped her hands around her lips and muttered something Vaughn couldn’t hear, but the door reacted and swung open.

They walked past the wooden door and into a freezer. Vaughn shivered and thought that being outside might even be better than this.

The raindrops on the man’s jacket were freezing by the minute, but the man didn’t show any signs of being cold. Neither did Emily.

They walked to an oven at the other side of the room that looked like it’d been there forever. Emily stood to the side and the man advanced to the oven. Vaughn was startled when an employee closed the wooden door behind them, but waved off the thought. The man leaned in close to the oven, and said softly: “Mac & Cheese.”

The man stood back and watched as the oven door slid open. Vaughn was surprised. He imagined the door was frozen shut.

The man then entered the oven and vanished below. Emily motioned for Vaughn to to go next.

Vaughn stepped forward, and crouched as he entered the oven. He then slipped on something metal, but regained his balance. He realized that there was a metal ladder, so he went down it. He heard Emily above him, coming down last.

As he went down, a light materialized at the bottom, and Vaughn realized that there was a large underground room at the bottom of the ladder.

Vaughn followed the man once he hit the ground, who was saluted by a man in dirty khakis and a white t-shirt, and walked past fields of machinery and equipment, past training grounds where men with guns fired at targets, and into a chair opposite from the man. The man folded his hands and smiled at Vaughn.

“So... remember me?” The man said.

Vaughn looked at the ground and didn’t know what to say. The man was familiar, but Vaughn’s memory wasn’t fully functional.

“No,” Vaughn muttered..

The man stopped smiling and shrugged.

“I thought they didn’t brainwash you, son. Remember me? Haven? Ring any bells?”

Suddenly, it all came back to Vaughn.

Haven.

The rebel attack.

Doc.

A light bulb flicked on inside Vaughn’s head.

“Doc-” Vaughn stood up.

“Please,” Doc said. “ Sit down, Vaughn.”

Vaughn sat back down.

“Why do rebels call you Doc, anyway?” Vaughn asked.

“I’m sort of a specialist in machinery and weaponry,” Doc said. “All the rebels call me Doc because of that.”

Emily came to the table and sat in a chair next to Vaughn.

“Oh,” Doc smiled. “And this is Emily Fraser, one of our top spies.”

Emily smiled and waved at Vaughn.

“So,” Vaughn asked. “Why’d you bring me here?”

“Simple,” Doc folded his hands again and smiled wider. “You broke out of an SSO prison. That’s never been accomplished over even attempted before.”

Vaughn shrugged. “So what? I have talent. The SSO told me that back in the prison. Then they tried to kill me.”

“Vaughn... we... the rebellion needs you. You escaped an SSO prison. That’s basically spitting on the SSO. You mocked their power... and you gave us hope. We need you fighting on our side, Vaughn,” Doc said.

“You’re our motivator,” Emily said. “We’ll keep fighting as long as we have you.”

“Besides,” Doc said, tossing the newspaper onto the table. “I don’t think you have a choice, anyway.”

Vaughn shrugged and looked at the ground.

“You’ll start right away as a spy. Emily will be your field partner.”

“What?” Emily said.

“I’ll let you know when I have a mission for you,” Doc explained, standing up. “I’ll provide you with all the equipment you need, Mr. Vaughn.”

“Just... Vaughn,” Vaughn said, standing as well.

“Wait,” Emily was the last to stand up. “He’s wanted. Won’t people recognize him?”

“I’ll take there of that,” Doc answered, then turned to Vaughn. “You are free to go, Vaughn. Just don’t go far. Then again... you don’t have a choice.”

Vaughn nodded and walked back through the aisles of machinery.

But none of them noticed, not even Doc, the SSO spy disguised as a waiter propelling himself up against the scaffolding, listening to their every word.

And the spy would report back to the SSO headquarters with his most recent news early the next morning.

A man with a briefcase walked into SSO headquarters at 9:30 the next morning. He’d been called up just before midnight and had not hesitated. If you didn’t attend an SSO meeting you were called to, you were accused of being a rebel and killed.

The man’s name was Ladislas Craven. He was twenty-eight years old, but he looked almost forty due to his stressful job. He was thin, and in good shape, and had a thin stubble and sandy blond hair. His face was smooth, thin and handsome, but it was vaguely starting to wrinkle.

Craven set down his briefcase, and was approached by a young man with brown hair and a black suit with a sword symbol on the shoulder and down the back.

The young man held his helmet in one hand, and a tranquilizer gun in the other hand.

“Follow me,” the young man ordered. He had a strong Russian accent, and sounded like he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Craven picked up his briefcase and followed.

Where? Craven thought.

Craven followed the young man across the lobby and into an elevator. The young man pushed the button for floor thirty-three.

“Why thirty-three?” Craven asked.

“Stay quiet and you won’t get hurt,” the young man demanded.

Craven tried to keep his mouth closed.

To Craven’s surprise, the elevator jerked, and started downward.

“Wait,” Craven said. “We were just at ground level. T-the thirty-third floor is up!”

The young man stayed quiet, so Craven decided that it would be best if he stayed quiet, too.

The elevator accelerated and the patterns of modern lights Craven saw through the gap between the elevator and the door changed to dim mine shaft lights. Craven looked through the glass circle on the floor below him, but all he saw was darkness failing to be illuminated by the shaft lights.

The elevator entered a structure below, going through the top. The lights on top of the underground structure lit Craven’s view for a split second, but instantly after that split second, he saw nothing but darkness.

The elevator stopped abruptly. Craven stumbled, but the young man didn’t even flinch, slowly walking out of the elevator.

Lights flicked on behind plastic pads on the ceiling, illuminating the room and revealing a black door, darker than the young man’s suit.

The young man placed his hand on a sensor pad next to the door, and a nine-number code pad opened. The young man typed the four numbers: 2033, and the door slid open.

A man who Craven could’ve mistaken for a businessman sat at the far side of a table. He smiled at Craven and waved his hand casually.

“Sit down, please,” he said, friendlier than Craven would’ve expected.

Craven sat down and set his briefcase on the ground.

“What’s this about?” Craven asked.

The businessman smiled wider, and pulled a newspaper from his pocket. He unfolded it and laid it on the table.

“Have you heard of him?”

It was yesterday’s edition of the newspaper. Craven saw articles on the weather, and previous failed rebel attacks, but the businessman tapped a specific picture. It was a picture of a young man of about twenty with brown hair, and a prison shirt. The caption under the picture read: Matthew Vaughn, wanted for sedition.

Craven frowned. “Yes. He’s the one who escaped the prison yesterday.”

“Yes, well... we’ve picked up information that he’s working as a spy for another rebel by the name of Doc,” the businessman explained. He glanced at the young man in the suit as he said this.

It was silent for a moment.

“What do you want me to do?” Craven asked.

The businessman smiled and threw the paper off the table.

“I want you to kill him,” he answered.

Craven laughed and smiled at the businessman.

“You... you think I’ll be able to do that?” Craven frowned again. “Mr...”

“James Bult,” the businessman said.

“Mr. Bult, I... the man escaped an SSO prison! That’s never been done before!” Craven shouted.

“Mr. Craven,” Bult said. “I have planned this out quite thoroughly. I expect success. And you won’t be working alone. Assassin Nikata Anprikhov here will be working with you.”

Craven glanced at the young man, then focused back on James Bult.

“I’m not doing this without pay.”

“Easily remedied,” James Bult leaned forward in his chair with his back at an angle. “I am willing to give you up to two-hundred million dollars if you are successful.”

Craven licked his lips. Two-hundred million dollars was a lot of money. But he wasn’t sold just yet.

“I’ll need equipment.”

“We’ll provide everything you need for you,” Bult answered.

Craven smiled. “I like it.”

“A few things you should know, though,” Bult said coldly. “We have a three strike policy here at the SSO. Fail once, try again. Fail twice, your salary is reduced by fifty percent. Fail three times, and you’ll be sentenced to death.”

“I-Isn’t that a little harsh?” Craven stammered.

“Well,” Bult smiled. “If you can’t help us, then there’s no use in you living, is there?”

Craven sat back in chair and frowned. He wanted to back out of the deal, but he had a feeling that he’d get that death sentence anyway.

Just a feeling.

“Any... other things I should know?” Craven asked.

“I think we’ve gone through the basics,” James Bult said. “But I do have one more thing.”

James Bult stood up and laid his hands on the table.

“I understand you’re a renowned bounty hunter, Mr. Craven,” he frowned. “That means that I expect success. I may shorten that three strike rule to two for you if you cause me to lose my temper.”

Bult leaned in so close to Craven that Craven thought he’d replaced his eyes with magnifying glasses.

“Don’t let it happen,” Bult said.

Craven nodded, and stood up. He glanced at the young man, and then down at his briefcase.

“I’ll send you two out immediately,” Bult said.

Craven and Anprikhov started for the door.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Bult said.

Craven and Anprikhov turned around.

“Don’t come back without Matthew Vaughn’s dead body unless you blew him to shreds.”

Vaughn’s second flashback came the next night. He rather would’ve slept without it.

He was sitting at a round wooden table, and the clock at the table read six o’clock. He had a couple papers in front of him that looked like they had to do with history.

He recognized the room, but he couldn’t put a name on where he was.

Vaughn’s thoughts were interrupted when his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

He checked the ID and found that it was his mother. He thought she would just say “hi, I love you,” so he answered it.

“Matthew...” his mother said. “Get out of there, Matthew.”

“Why?” Vaughn asked.

His mother sounded terrified. Her voice shook as she spoke.

“They... they killed father. They’re going to kill you, too! You have to get out of there!”

As if on cue, a knock pounded on Vaughn’s door.

“This is the SSO! Come out with your hands up!”

Vaughn’s voice was shaking now.

“W-what’s going on?”

“No time. I love you, Matthew, but just get out of-”

The line went dead, and all Vaughn heard was a continuous low beep.

Vaughn sat, paralyzed with fear, as the SSO guard knocked ferociously on the door. Vaughn had no idea what was going on.

“Come out or we’ll break the door down!” Screamed the guard.

Vaughn sat where he was, too scared to move.

Suddenly the door flew off its hinges. Wood splinters scattered in every direction. Vaughn was quick to his feet, putting his hands on his head.

The guard took Vaughn’s hands off his head and placed them behind his back. The other guard kept a gun pointed to his head.

The guard hadn’t noticed, though, Vaughn sticking his pencil into the barrel of the gun.

The guards firmly took Vaughn out of the room and down the hall.

Vaughn suddenly made sense of what his mother had said.

These men had killed his father.

And he was next.

Vaughn quickly snapped into action, kicking the guard holding him in the shin. The guard stifled back in pain. The guard holding the gun fired, but instead, the pencil was reduced to wood shavings, and the bullet fell straight out of the barrel.

Vaughn quickly swiped the pistol out of the injured guard’s holster. The armed guard would’ve fired, had he not have seen the eraser of the pencil lodged lengthwise in the barrel.

Vaughn back away slowly, with his gun pointed at the guards.

“Just...”

Vaughn dashed back into his room. He heard footsteps behind him, but he didn’t dare look back. He sprinted across his room, knocking over a table which the armed guard tripped over. Vaughn then hopped into the air, and crashed through the window.

The breeze lashed at Vaughn, and the cold autumn air caught Vaughn by surprise. But what was worse was the freezing water that Vaughn fell into from thirty feet up.

The cold stung Vaughn’s skin, and his whole body went numb almost instantly. The injured guard fell in shortly after Vaughn, and Vaughn descended into the murky depths.

The guard hadn’t seen Vaughn yet, but Vaughn knew he couldn’t survive much longer. He was running out of breath, and in water that cold, hypothermia was a threat, too.

Vaughn swam at a constant level, about ten feet under the surface, and stayed under as long as he could. He was unable to see in the murky water, so he closed his eyes, slashing at water, hoping to hit something solid before it was too late.

Already, Vaughn felt his senses start to dull. He began to forget what he was doing. He had to think to himself to remember.

All of a sudden, Vaughn felt a soft sand layer hit his hand, and he realized he had reached shore.

Vaughn scampered out of the water, and immediately had to duck to avoid gunfire.

Vaughn dashed forward, not even knowing where to go, until a black SUV with the white letters SSO blocked him off.

He crouched onto the ground and barrel rolled under the SUV, then stood up and continued running. He heard shouts behind him, and a bullet whizzed past his ear.

Vaughn ran for the parking lot on the other side of the building. He figured the fastest possible way he could escape was in a car. He quickly ran to the nearest automobile, a white sports car, hopped in the driver’s seat and sped off. He drove over the curb, crossed an intersection and headed north.

Vaughn quickly pieced together the thoughts in his mind.

His parents had been killed, and the killers were attempting to kill him.

It made no sense.

No sense at all.

Vaughn stopped pondering on the issue when all of a sudden he got a burst of speed. Glass flew into the back of his neck, cutting his skin.

Vaughn looked into the rear view mirror to see that an SSO truck had finally caught up to him.

It was still dark outside; the sun had barely started to come out. Vaughn kept his speed, and looked in his rear view mirror almost every five seconds.

His concentration was faltered once again.

But this sound was worse than the truck.

A train was crossing not far ahead of Vaughn.

The train hadn’t met the road yet, but the warning light was blinking red, and the gates were already starting to close. Vaughn was about two football fields away, going at about one-sixty. He couldn’t afford to stop. It was either take a chance with the train, or get killed by the SSO.

Vaughn slammed his foot on the gas pedal, and the SSO truck followed. The train was coming up on the road fast, and Vaughn got a sick feeling in his stomach.

Only one hundred yards away. Vaughn could see the train clearly now. It was a drag race.

The SSO truck attempted to overtake Vaughn, but it wasn’t fast enough. Vaughn pressed his foot against the gas pedal as hard as he could.

The train was closing in. It was a fight to the finish. Vaughn could see the end of the train in view, and he realized that the train only had three cars.

Vaughn switched pedals, now braking as hard as he could. The SSO truck was caught by surprise, and it veered forward, unable to stop.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

The truck streaked forward, hitting the trains engine with incredible speed, causing both to tumble in a cloud of metal and smoke.

Vaughn’s car lost its balance and flipped onto its side. Vaughn soon found himself tumbling inside the rolling vehicle.

The car rolled over the wreckage of the train and hopped off the ground twice before settling on a downed tree.

Vaughn propelled himself out of the opening which used to be the passenger door, and winced. He’d had his seat belt on, which saved him from death, but he had hit his head on the ceiling and rolled his ankle. He slid down the bottom of the car, which was resting slanted on a tree, and ran.

Vaughn dashed down the road, slightly limping on his left ankle. He only had one place in mind to run off to.

His old home.

His old home was only a few miles away from the college he had been attending, which
was where he had been earlier that morning. He feared that the SSO would be there, but he couldn’t go anywhere else.
The sun had finally became brave enough to come out and try to brighten Vaughn’s spirits, but it did quite the opposite. The SSO would find it easier to spot Vaughn in the bright morning light, which made Vaughn move faster.
The area in which Vaughn lived was wooded, with many trees and forests. There was farmland as far as the eye could see. Vaughn’s parents owned a farmhouse with over one-hundred acres of land for farming. They’d hired a man named Brycen Terrance to work on the farm with them when Vaughn left.
Vaughn wondered if the SSO had killed him, too.
Vaughn reached the farmhouse when the sun was halfway between east and south. The grass in the front yard looked like a bulldozer had gone through it, and the door was hanging on the top hinge and it looked as if someone had fired a shotgun at it.
Someone probably had.
Vaughn forced himself to look away. He didn’t want to think about his parents being dead.
He ran out back to the shed. He remembered his father telling him never to touch anything in the shed without his permission.
But his father was dead now.
Vaughn dismissed the thought, fighting back tears, and searched he shed. He looked around for secret passages or fingerprint pads.
His father was a rebel spy. He had to be crafty.
Vaughn felt around for anything out of the ordinary. He was frantic and panicking. He knew that the SSO would be close behind him, despite the train wreck.
Vaughn looked in the back of the shed. The tractor wasn’t anything. Vaughn cursed. He expected he tractor. But the tractor was something his father had driven many times. It couldn’t be it.
Suddenly, something caught his eye. From the corner of his eye he saw a green reflection from inside a wheelbarrow.
The wheelbarrow had grown old and rusty, and the stack of hay under it was more tan than golden. Vaughn peered inside the wheelbarrow. Sure enough, there was a square pad. Most of it was concealed by dust and grime, but Vaughn had been lucky enough to see the one small spot of green.
Vaughn brushed off the rest of the dust and stared in disbelief as the pad started to glow green. A small screen the size of a lighter lay empty next to the pad. Vaughn pressed his hand on the green pad.
A green light outlined Vaughn’s hand as if trying to trace it, and a finger print appeared on the small screen. Suddenly, the pad turned off. Vaughn frowned.
Shortly after, the top of the wheelbarrow slid open, and Vaughn saw a ladder leading downward.
“Thank you, dad,” he muttered.
He climbed down the ladder and the wheelbarrow door closed above him. At first, Vaughn couldn’t see anything at all, but when he got to the bottom of the ladder, motion-sensing lights flipped on, and the passage lit up.
It was a small room with hay on the ground and a dusty counter snaking around the room. The counter had many supplies on it, like guns, armor, and equipment.
Vaughn turned slowly in a three-sixty, staring in awe at the secret storage room laid out in front of him. He cautiously held what looked to be binoculars. He pressed a red button on the side, and lifted it up to his eyes. It had become a heat sensor with the press of a button.
Vaughn started to slip the binoculars under his jacket when he heard footsteps above him. Voices mumbled. Vaughn was almost completely sure it was the SSO.
“No problem,” Vaughn muttered reassuringly to himself.
Vaughn grabbed one of the guns on the counter, a nine millimeter pistol, and stood his ground.
Suddenly, all of Vaughn’s surroundings started swirling, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker. The world suddenly started darkening. The darkness fell around Vaughn, and the hideout. The voices from above were no longer heard, and the world vanished in a swirl of darkness.

Vaughn woke with a start. He was back in the rebel hideout. He realized that his fists were clenched so tight when he was asleep that they became numb. His breath was stifled, shaking in and out.
Frantically, Vaughn pieced the facts together. He remembered how his father always bringing him new toy guns to play with when he came home. How his mother would stand watching from the kitchen, almost in tears. How his father would take him on hunting trips when he was ten, and how he would always yell at Vaughn whenever he refused to kill an animal. Then... the SSO killed him. And Vaughn’s mother.
Suddenly, Vaughn’s mind erupted into flames.
The SSO killed his parents.
The SSO killed his parents.
His family.
Vaughn was forced to hold in his anger when Doc appeared at the table. He was holding a large gray pack.
“Hope you had a nice nap, because I got you a mission!” He exclaimed.
Vaughn looked at the ground.
“Should I be happy or worried?” Vaughn asked.
Doc smiled. “The doctor says that you’re mentally and physically capable of completing this mission. Plus, you’ll have Emily with you. And...”
Doc shook the gray pack.
“... and this.”
“Great,” Vaughn chuckled sarcastically. “What’s in it?”
“Just what I’m about to show you,” Doc said.
Vaughn leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
Doc unzipped the pack and fished around in it. Vaughn could hear the clanking of metal and padding inside the pack.
Which only meant he was in for a rough time.
Vaughn sighed. Wasn’t his life rough enough already?
Doc grabbed hold of something and pulled out a metal tube with a carbon-fiber scope and handle. He cradled it in his hands like a baby.
“This is an extremely powerful rocket launcher that I made myself. No one’s tested it out yet, but if I’m sure of one thing, it’s powerful,” Doc explained.
“What’s it called?” Vaughn asked.
“For now, just call it Doc,” Doc said with a smile.
Vaughn chuckled as Doc handed him the gun and fished for his next item. The carbon-fiber handle was very smooth, and the gun felt so light in Vaughn’s hands, he almost dropped it because he was so surprised by its weight.
Next, Doc pulled out what looked like a bulletproof vest.
“This is a Kevlar vest. I added some carbon padding and a thin layer of steel on the inside, so it should be able to stop any bullet that comes your way,” he said.
Vaughn received the vest from Doc and was about to put it on when Doc stopped him.
“No, no! Not yet! Put these on first!”
Doc tossed out a rubber suit, a pair of rubber gloves, and a rubber mask that looked like it only covered the mouth and nose.
“That is a enhanced rubber suit that has a cooling system inside of it. It’ll be useful for where you’re going. Now these-”
“Wait a second,” Vaughn held his hand up. “Where am I going?”
“I’ll get to that,” Doc said. “Now... these are hiking boots. They help your feet from aching and getting tired. They’ll also be useful where you’re going-”
“Where am I going?” Vaughn demanded.
“Be patient! I just have one more thing to show you!” Doc yelled.
The room was quiet for a moment except for the sound of rebels talking and working in the background. Doc sighed and placed his hand on the table.
“Just... I have one more thing for you, Vaughn. Just hear me out.”
Doc fished through the bag. Vaughn sighed and examined the hiking boots. They were gray with a black bottom and heel, and a yellow streak down the side.
Doc finally pulled out the last item, which gave chilling memories back to Vaughn that he was trying to forget.
“It’s the... it’s...”
“Yes,” Doc said. “Your father’s thermal binoculars. We had an agent fish them out from your old house along with everything else.”
Vaughn was speechless. He had snatched the binoculars from Doc and was now holding them in his right hand, observing them like they were an ancient artifact.
“I... I was t-trying to forget about my parents... being... being-”
“Look,” Doc frowned. “Your dad was at my position in the rebel army back then. He knew the risks, as we all did. No one lives forever-”
Vaughn couldn’t help it anymore. His anger exploded inside of him.
“No! You look!” Vaughn screamed. “You weren’t the college kid who woke one morning to find out that his parents were dead and he was going to die!”
“Now wait one minute-”
“Were you?! Were you the rebel who got shot in the leg to defend his side?! His rebellion!?”
“Vaughn-”
“No! You weren’t! Because you were the one that I was trying to protect! I almost died trying to protect you! And you give me nothing in return!”
“Vaughn, there were a lot of rebels who did die fighting! You got lucky! Extremely lucky!”
“Oh! So I got... lucky when I escaped the prison?!”
Vaughn was breathing hard now. His face was red, and sweat rolled down his face, which was wrinkled in anger.
Doc put his hand up as if to say “calm down”, then stared at Vaughn grimly.
“You aren’t the only one, Vaughn,” Doc said. “So stop acting like you are.”
Doc walked calmly around the table and stopped in mid-stride.
“Get that equipment on, then proceed to Hangar B immediately.”
Then Doc left, and Vaughn felt that lonely feeling again.
He’d felt that feeling far too much.


If someone would’ve said rubber suit in front of Vaughn earlier, he would’ve thought about scuba suits.
But if someone tried to swim in this rubber suit, they’d most definitely drown.
The rubber suit weighed more than the rocket launcher easily. The bulletproof vest was strapped tightly to his suit, and the hiking boots pinched his toes anyway. Surprisingly, it was easy to breathe with the rubber mask over his mouth and nose. The bulletproof vest had a carbon-fiber helmet attached to it, which Vaughn placed on his head. “Doc” plus another gun the agent had swiped from Vaughn’s old home were strapped to the back of Vaughn’s bulletproof vest. And finally there was a Swiss Army Knife tucked safely in a holster attached to Vaughn’s vest.
Vaughn walked down the long hallway to Hangar B. As he walked, numerous rebels glanced his way. They must’ve knew what was in store for him.
Ironically, he didn’t.
Vaughn arrived at a sideways hallway with the doors on the floor after about ten minutes. Each door was alphabetical, and Vaughn had come across M. He proceeded left until he made it to Hangar B.
Vaughn pushed open the door to Hangar B, and almost fell to his death. He was thirty feet above the floor of the hangar, which had four large black jets in it. He recognized Doc and Emily, who were waiting for him at the bottom.
Vaughn slowly and cautiously climbed down the ladder; he was afraid of heights and had been for a long time.
When Vaughn hit the ground, he slowly advanced to Doc.
“So there he is,” Doc smiled. “Thought you’d decide to skip out.”
“It took a lot of nerve, that’s for sure,” Vaughn said. “So... I don’t think you told me where I’m going and why.”
“That’s right,” Doc snapped. “You are headed to the Saharan Wastelands.”
Vaughn frowned. The Saharan Wastelands had once been Africa. The Desertification Process suddenly sped up in the 2050’s and the whole continent, except for Madagascar, became an arid wasteland. And now the SSO was using it as another stronghold.
“Why?” Vaughn asked.
Doc frowned. His eyes turned stormy.
“Have you heard of Salim Tehutan?” Doc asked.
“No.”
Doc frowned further, as if he was telling a scary story at night.
“He’s a radical SSO leader. He’s been building up the stronghold in the Saharan Wastelands for years. Here’s a picture of him.”
Doc held out a small photograph to Vaughn. It showed a plump, Middle Eastern man in his late fifties with gray sideburns, but black hair. He had thick eyebrows, and he was wearing a black parka.
Doc pulled the picture away, and started pacing a small area of about ten feet.
“For years, he has been working at creating the world’s largest nuclear force in the Saharan Wastelands. He named the stronghold the Lambiyon. And now he’s made it.”
Doc stopped pacing and looked at Vaughn, his face grim.
“He has been given clearance to launch his nuclear weapons at Haven,” Doc said.
Doc started pacing again.
“There are rebel forces, SSO forces, families, men, women, and children still in Haven,” Doc said. “A nuclear bomb in the place would kill millions!”
“So what do you want us to do?” Vaughn asked.
“I want you to stop the launch,” Doc answered. “And kidnap Tehutan if possible.”
“Doc, you should know this isn’t a two-person job,” Vaughn chuckled.
“Fortunately, I do,” Doc smiled. “Which brings me to my next subject: introducing you to your team.”
Vaughn followed Doc to a large jet that read: FB-03 “Thunderhammer” on the side. Eight men and women stood in a group, wearing the same equipment as Vaughn. Emily appeared next to Vaughn and the three walked up to the group.
“Attention!” Doc shouted, and the group of eight quickly assembled into a line.
“Soldiers,” Doc said. “This is Emily Fraser and Matthew Vaughn.”
“Which one’s which?” A man in the front said.
No one laughed. All the men wanted to make a good impression on Emily.
Vaughn stepped forward, angered all over again, but Doc put a hand on his shoulder.
“No, Vaughn.”
He stepped forward and glared at the man.
“Manning, that is unacceptable,” Doc scolded.
“Sorry, sir,” Manning said with his head down.
Doc stepped back and started role call.
“Shay!”
“Here, sir!”
“Schiapri!”
“Sir!”
“Manning’s here,” Doc smiled. “Starr!”
“Sir!”
“Wilson!”
“Here!”
“Quinn!”
“Here!”
“Astez!”
“Here, sir!”
“And... Bell!”
“Sir!”
Doc turned to Vaughn and Emily.
“Everyone is accounted for. You must go quickly. The launch will begin tomorrow, so you don’t have much time. The plane is ready to go. I can’t communicate with you on your mission. The SSO might trace my transmissions, so you’re on your own. Best of luck.”
Doc watched silently as the eight rebels walked up a ramp, and into the plane. Emily got in second-to-last, and was slowly followed by Vaughn, who stopped at the door. He took one last look out into the hangar, looking hopelessly at Doc as if saying “I can’t do this.”
Doc gave Vaughn a look like, “Too bad.”
Vaughn smiled, took in a deep breath, and finished his walk into the plane just as it started to roar to life.

The plane lightly vibrated under Vaughn’s feet. He stared in awe at the plane’s interior. There was a medium sized room in the middle of the plane with two benches, and cabinets in the back of the room with parachutes inside of them. There were large sliding doors on both sides of the room.

In the back, there were ten beds on metal racks, and a restroom, and in the front was the cockpit.

Vaughn noticed a young man sitting on one of the benches who Doc had called Quinn, and he walked to him.

“Excuse me,” Vaughn said. “Are you Quinn?”

“Yeah.”

“You were part of the Haven attack?” Vaughn asked.

“Yeah.”

“How’s Rucker?”

Quinn’s face turned grim. “Dead.”

Vaughn looked down at the ground.

“What about Canton?”

“The smuggler?” Quinn answered. “I think he’s in prison. Which basically means dead.”

Vaughn looked down at Quinn, who was tinkering around with his pistol.

“What happened after I was gone?”

Quinn looked up at Vaughn and sighed.

“Long story short, we blew up.”

“I don’t want a long story short,” Vaughn demanded. “I want a long story.”

Quinn sighed and shook some bullets in his hand.

“We lost the Commissionary Office, hands down. The SSO came in with tanks and trucks, and we were forced to run. Only a few made it out. Some jumped into the river, and were pretty much fished out. The division of rebels from west Haven were forced to spread out across all of Haven. The battle’s still going on right now,” Quinn explained.

“Huh,” Vaughn remembered what Doc said about how he wasn’t the only one. Suddenly it made sense.

Vaughn walked into the cockpit. Astez sat in the pilot seat with her hands gripping the steering levers. Schiapri sat in the passenger seat, and Emily stood behind them, looking out into the launch tunnel.

“How long will it take us to get there?” Asked Vaughn.

“Well, for starters, we’re not even out of the launch tunnel yet,” Emily replied.

Vaughn stared out into the launch tunnel. It had been going on for a while now; almost fifteen minutes.

“When will we get out of the tunnel?” Vaughn asked.

“The plane has to make it to the end of the tunnel, which is disguised as a sewer pipe jutting out over a lake,” Astez replied.

“How long?”

Schiapri answered this time, but Vaughn was sure he was only talking to Astez.

“Coming up soon. Ready cloaking.”

There was a chorus of buttons being pressed and levers being activated.

“Cloaking ready,” Astez said.

At that time, square openings on the bottom of the plane pulled the wheels back inside of them. The hydraulics bent and the mechanism barely, but perfectly fit through the opening. The plane was now soaring through the tunnel, not being propelled forward by anything but its speed.

Vaughn felt the light vibrating under his feet stop as the wheels bent back into their compartments. There was another chorus of buttons and levers, and a light appeared at the end of the tunnel, but Vaughn realized it was just a ceiling light, and that it was night outside.

“Stand by for afterburners,” Schiapri said.

The plane started to lower slowly and Vaughn worried that they wouldn’t make it to the end of the tunnel.

“Five, four, three, two-”

Suddenly, the plane lurched forward, and Vaughn and Emily were almost thrown off their feet, had they not been hanging on to a railing next to the door.

The plane shot through the sewer tunnel and just before it went out of the tunnel, Astez yelled “cloaking!”

Suddenly, the plane below, above, left, and right of Vaughn disappeared.. Vaughn stumbled down onto his knees and looked down at the water three-hundred feet below him with horror.

“Oh, shoot,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

“I... I’m... I don’t like heights,” Vaughn tried to put it into the manliest way possible.

Emily giggled, when a black man who Doc had called Bell dashed into the cockpit.

“Two bogeys at four o’clock and seven o’clock!”

“I see ‘em,” Schiapri said.

Vaughn looked up and immediately stared at the underbelly of an SSO fighter jet.

“It hasn’t noticed us yet,” Schiapri said. “How long until the cloaking wears out?”

“Three minutes,” Astez replied.

“Oh, no,” Schiapri replied.

They all stood silent, waiting for something bad to happen. Everyone had a look of foreboding on their faces.

“Let’s just hope the jets finish their training run before we’re out of their radar,” Schiapri said.

“They’re turning! They’re turning!” Yelled Bell.

Schiapri and Astez looked to see that the plane to their right was turning left. Astez quickly jerked the handles forward and the plane sped. The afterburners flared on, and the SSO fighter jet turned without hitting or noticing the Thunderhammer.

“Speed up! We can’t let them get us on their radar!” Vaughn yelled.

The plane lurched forward and Vaughn fell backward, keeping himself up by the door handle.
The afterburners were silent, but Vaughn could fell the tremor of them under his feet. He stared back at the two planes moving away, hoping for the best possible outcome.

Craven was getting used to flying.

He was getting the hang of the F-33 Shadow, one of the best planes in the SSO Air Force. He had just turned left and was heading back to base. The training session was almost complete. All Craven had to do was land.

He glanced to his left, but only saw Nikata Anprikhov’s plane. Craven had felt his plane get hotter when he had turned left, and he thought he heard the low sound of afterburners, but he quickly dismissed the thought.

Craven held the throttle steady, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a red dot at the lower end of his radar screen.

Do they have us shoot SSO planes as practice? Craven thought.

That thought was put to rest when a voice came over the intercom.

“Bogey to your south. Fighters engage.”

Craven grinned, and found himself turning around again.


Vaughn, just in case, moved back to the middle section of the plane to look back at the planes. The Thunderhammer’s cloaking had turned off and Vaughn was back on solid floor.
Vaughn peered out through the back window, when suddenly an extremely bright flash of light blinded him. A shock wave ran through the plane, vibrating beneath Vaughn’s feet. Shocks and sparks came from the ceiling lights as they flickered and died out. All the light from the world seemed to have disappeared from existence to Vaughn as he fumbled around for the bench. Something just to hold onto.
In the next few seconds, Vaughn’s sight slowly came back to him. Shay and Wilson rushed past him and opened the right sliding door of the plane.
“Got two of them trailing us!” Shouted Wilson, hooking a mounted machine gun to a screw on the floor that had been under the sliding door.

Shay looped a cable around a hook on the side of the plane and tightened a knot. Wilson did the same, then grabbed the mounted machine gun and began firing. Shay pulled out his own machine gun, and began firing.

Vaughn clambered off the bench and ran to Shay.

“What’s going on?” Vaughn shouted.

“We’re being attacked! Here! Hook yourself up!” Shay answered, handing Vaughn a cable.

“Why?” Vaughn yelled.

Suddenly, the plane stopped abruptly and went into a nose-dive. Wilson slipped to the ground and grasped the mounted machine gun. Shay flew off his feet and, for a split second, he hung onto the sliding door, but the next split second his hands were gone and the cable stretched out.

Vaughn rushed to the door and looked to the right to see Shay struggling with his cord, flying in the air with his gun still firing.

Shay emptied the whole clip at the sky, then flew helplessly once again

Vaughn leaned against the door to stay upright as he shakily held out his hand for Shay to reach. Shay grabbed a window sill on the side of the plane, and crawled sideways with his legs hanging behind him.

Wilson propelled himself up against the mounted machine gun.

“Vaughn, you’re not hooked!” he shouted.

Vaughn ignored him, and reached as far as he could. The cold morning air slapped him ferociously, attempting to throw him off the plane.

Shay crawled along the side of the plane. He was about to make it to the door when his gun slipped out of a hold and he flew backward once again, but this time he was far out of reach from the plane.

Vaughn sighed, and slowly moved forward. He grabbed the cable and yanked it. He slowly coiled the cable. Shay did the same on his end of the cable.

“Vaughn!”

Vaughn looked down to see that his feet were slipping. Vaughn cursed just before he himself was thrown out of the plane.

Vaughn didn’t go far, though. He blindly flailed his arms around, and grabbed Shay’s cable. He was much closer to the plane than Shay- a long arm’s reach.

Vaughn reached as long as he could, but he was just too far away. Wilson went down to grab him when a flock of bullets showered on that side of the plane. Wilson staggered back and fell on the ground. Vaughn looked back to see one of the two SSO planes.

The SSO plane showered the plane again, but most of the shots didn’t hit anything. Vaughn silently prayed that a bullet wouldn’t snap the cord.

Shay attempted to climb closer to the plane, but since the plane was flying almost straight down, he hesitated.

Vaughn helplessly dangled on the cord, flailing in the air as the plane spiraled almost downward.

Suddenly, Vaughn got an idea. He firmly gripped the cord with his left hand, and pulled “doc” off his back. He wrapped his arms around the cord and held the rocket launcher in both hands. The tubular piece of metal clattered in his hands. Vaughn gulped, took a deep, shaky breath, and pressed the trigger.

Craven was right on the rebel plane’s tail. He had fired at it twice. The first time, he thought he hit someone inside the plane, but he couldn’t be sure if they were Vaughn or not. He saw two rebels dangling from the plane on a cord. He couldn’t be sure if one of them was Vaughn either.

Craven was surprised flying the plane. It was so exhilarating. His stomach felt like it had been twisted over and over again, and going in a nose dive almost felt like falling without a plane..

He’d know. He’d done it before.

Craven was surprised to get an answer to his rounds. A missile rocketed towards Craven’s plane at incredible speed. Craven barely had time to cry out before the missile hit his right wing. The right wing of the plane exploded. The shrapnel, little sharp pieces of metal flying at very fast speeds, from the explosion crashed through the glass windshield.

The shrapnel cut Craven’s face and neck, but none of the shrapnel directly hit him.

Except for the shrapnel that went into his chest.

Craven, stunned, gasped for breath. The shrapnel hadn’t hit his heart, but it must’ve hit something. Every inhale felt like someone was stabbing him in the rib.

Then again, Craven thought, Bult will stab me anyway if I get back.

Craven attempted to maneuver the plane upward ineffectually, and the plane under-cut the rebel plane, dashing at an almost straight path towards the ground. The wind batted at Craven’s mask, making it even harder to breath. Craven panicked, and repeatedly slammed his fist on the eject button. He only needed to do it once though, and, due to the damage, the glass cockpit roof shot off the top of the plane and shattered, and Craven’s seat shot up into the smoky air. Craven felt the breath snuffed out of him as he shot into the air at incredible speed. Quickly, Craven reached back behind his chair, and pulled the string. A yellow parachute exploded from the pack behind the chair, and Craven, almost unable to breath, watched helplessly as the rebel plane pulled back up and flew into the distance.

Strike one.

The kick from the rocket launcher propelled Vaughn back into the plane at incredible speed. Vaughn yelled, and flew backward, off the cord, and into the corner on the opposite side of the plane. The plane’s power turned on again, and the plane levelled out again.

It had been extremely close to plummeting into the ground.

All the rebels except the pilots and Shay came out to see if Vaughn was alright. Vaughn lay sprawled out in the corner with the rocket launcher in his right hand.

“Doctor’s orders,” Vaughn’s voice was shaky, but he was still smiling.

Emily laughed and pulled Vaughn up as Starr helped Shay climb back into the plane. Shay walked to Vaughn and smiled.

“That... Vaughn, that was amazing! The planes are turning back now!”

Vaughn nodded and looked around.

“Where’s Wilson?”

Starr’s face was grim, and he looked sadly at Vaughn.

“He got shot. Bell’s treating him in the back room.”

“Will he live?”

Starr’s face turned less grim, but still grim.

“He’ll live. It’s just a matter of if he’ll be ready to go tomorrow or not. The bullet didn’t go deep, but he’s still bleeding pretty bad. We can’t leave him on the plane for the mission.”

“At least he’ll live,” Vaughn smiled.

Vaughn placed “Doc” on his back and walked into the back room. Wilson lay on one of the bottom bunks. Bell and Manning stood next to him.

“He got shot in the stomach,” Bell explained. “Didn’t go deep, but it’s still bad.”

“Starr went over that,” Vaughn said. “Will he be ready tomorrow?”

“The best thing to do is tape up the wound, and give him some rest,” Bell explained. “As far as being ready for stopping the launch, I don’t know.”

Vaughn nodded, and gently, he patted Wilson on the shoulder.

“Sorry I didn’t listen,” Vaughn said.

“No,” Wilson said. “You’re the leader. You didn’t need to listen to me. It was better you didn’t or we’d probably all be dead.”

“Thanks for trying to help,” Vaughn smiled.

Vaughn suddenly felt a tired, relaxed feeling throughout his body. He walked to the other end of the room, and laid down on a bottom bunk.

He found it surprisingly easy to close his eyes.

Vaughn only had a few hours sleep. He woke at sunrise, when the orange sun reflected its light off the vast ocean below them. It relaxed Vaughn that for once the plane was alone, not being attacked by the SSO.
Vaughn stretched, and stood up. Wilson was sleeping on the same bunk he had before. Bell had wrapped a bandage around Wilson’s body at the stomach, and thankfully it hadn’t bled through.
Vaughn walked into the middle section of the plane and sat down. Starr had the side door open, and was leaning against a mounted machine gun, on guard. Everyone else was asleep except for Shay, who had taken the pilot’s seat.
Vaughn sat down on the bench, and heard his stomach rumble. He moaned, and walked into the cockpit.
“Hey, Shay. Is there anything to eat?” Vaughn asked.
“No. Doc figured the mission wouldn’t take too long, and we’re low on rations as it is,” Shay explained. “But there’s a few water bottles behind my chair if you’re thirsty.”
“That’s okay,” Vaughn grumbled.
Vaughn walked back out to his seat on the bench and took out his father’s thermal binoculars. He pressed the button on the top, and an image appeared through the binoculars.
Vaughn peered through the binoculars, and the colors of the world changed to a scale of white to blue.
Vaughn swivelled slowly on the bench, analyzing the room, learning how to use his father’s equipment. He peered past the parachutes and the side doors. He tapped the top button again, and the binoculars thermal turned off.
Vaughn stood up, walked to the sliding door that was closed, and opened it. He tied himself to a cable; he’d learned a lot from the past night; and sat down on the edge of the floor.
The ocean was vast. Vaughn had never seen the ocean. As a child, he was always either at home, or at a private school. The ocean dominated earth, stretching as far as the eye could see. The golden-orange of the sun reflected off the crystal blue water as an ultimate display of beauty.
“Pretty, isn’t it?”
Vaughn turned his head and looked up to see Emily.
“Yeah. It sure is.”

Emily hooked herself up and sat next to Vaughn.
“I heard of it in books, but I never thought I’d see it in real life.”
“Me, neither.”
Vaughn watched as a flock of seagulls flew by in the distance. Emily brushed some of her hair out of her eyes.
“You... you’re amazing, Vaughn,” she turned to Vaughn. “You realize we can’t do this without you.”
Vaughn sighed inside his head. He thought she meant amazing in a different way.
“You guys don’t need me.”
“Yes we-”
“Shay!” Starr yelled from the other side of the Thunderhammer. “SSO battleship at two o’clock. Cloaking requested!”
“Cloaking on!”
Suddenly, the ship floor beneath Vaughn and Emily disappeared. Vaughn glanced at Emily.
“I... I don’t think we should... you know...”
“Yeah, we should get up.”
Vaughn stood up first, and sat on the bench, while Emily sat next to him.
The Thunderhammer passed over the battleship quietly, and Vaughn took a deep breath.
“Attention crew,” Shay said over the intercom. “We should meet the landing point in the afternoon. Shay out.”



Craven didn’t like James Bult.
He hadn’t liked James Bult from the very beginning, but now he was almost ready to switch his attention from Vaughn to Bult.
Anprikhov had plucked him out of the air and took him back to base. He arrived at the medical bay about thirty minutes after the crash. In the dead of night.
Apparently Bult wasn’t the sympathetic type. When Craven passed by Bult on a stretcher, Bult had simply said, “strike one.”
Now Craven was lying on a stretcher doing nothing but breathing in hard. Bult walked up aside Craven’s stretcher.
“You idiot!” Bult shouted.
Craven said nothing.
“I am almost certain Vaughn was in that plane! You let him get away!”
Craven took a deep breath.
“They’re headed to the Lambiyon! This is part of their plan!”
Craven breathed in hard, with the stabbing feeling in his rib lingering.
“Strike one, Craven. Two more, and you’re-”
“I’m not one of your guard dogs, Bult!” Craven stammered. “You hired me! You don’t have the right to-”
“I’m the government, Craven” Bult smiled. “I have every right to kill you if it seems fit. This is the SSO.”
Craven lay there, shocked. He was wishing he had backed out, now. In previous contracts, he had the ability to quit, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t end well for him if he quit now.
“Where’s Anprikhov?” Craven asked.
“I sent him off on a... small mission when he got back,” Bult said. “I’ll send you off as soon as I can, but I fear that might be a while.”
Bult walked away. Craven was tempted to pull his gun on him. That wouldn’t end well, though.
Nothing would end well for Craven.
Craven could only think what would’ve happened had he rejected this contract from the start.



Anprikhov walked down the street. It had been a few days since he’d been away from the SSO. Before then the SSO was practically his home.
He was looking for a certain restaurant. It was called Brock’s Pub. He’d been there a few days ago.
On the ceiling.
Anprikhov turned the corner, and was passed by two men in sweatshirts.
Anprikhov was dressed as a rebel. Simple clothes. A grey sweatshirt and jeans. He had a gun in his pocket, with a retractable handle.
Disguised as a cell phone.
He also had a camera to take pictures of anything he would find.
He crossed a four-way intersection. The city was almost empty. He couldn’t hear a single car in the distance.
He stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Brock’s Pub and looked inside the newspaper machine.
He didn’t know why. He just did.
On the front page, a story named “Retaliation!” read: An SSO plane was shot down on a training run by a suspected rebel plane. The rebel Matthew Vaughn is a suspect in this case. There is now a large reward for the capturing of Matthew Vaughn.
Anprikhov sighed and looked up at the sky.
` “News gets around quickly these days,” he said to himself.
Anprikhov softly put his hand on the door, and it was almost as if it came open on its own.
It was cheery in the restaurant. People were smiling and laughing. There was the smell of good food.
Too bad, Anprikhov thought.
A waiter walked up to Anprikhov holding a group of different folders.
“Welcome to Brock’s Pub. I’m Kyle. I’ll lead you to a table.”
Anprikhov followed the waiter to a booth in a corner. The waiter set a folder on the table and put a hand in his pocket.
“You’re not a regular here. What’s your name?”
“Jim. Anderson,” Anprikhov said the first name that came to mind.
“Ah,” Kyle sounded like he didn’t believe him. “So, will you start with a drink, or are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have the special.”

Kyle looked as if his heart stopped for a second. He took a deep breath. Anprikhov noticed sweat rolling down Kyle’s forehead, and he couldn’t help grinning. But he disguised his success by chuckling as if he didn’t know what was wrong.

“W... w-what’s wrong?”

Kyle frowned and gestured to the kitchen.

“Excuse me for a sec.”

Kyle rushed into the kitchen, leaving Anprikhov alone at the booth.


Kyle walked back behind the kitchen, where another waiter with a name tag saying Kenneth sat looking at an electronic tablet in his hand. He looked up when he saw Kyle.

“What is it?”

“There’s a man out there... I think he’s with the SSO.”

Kenneth stood up, and peered at Anprikhov.

“He knows,” Kyle stammered.

“How did they find us, though?” Kenneth asked.

“I don’t know.”

Kenneth turned around to Kyle.

“We can’t take any risks. We have to get him out of here,” Kenneth demanded.

Kyle and Kenneth walked back out of the kitchen. They started towards Anprikhov’s table.
Three men passed by the table. When they went away, Kyle and Kenneth realized that the man was gone.
“Oh, no,” Kyle said.
“He either worked his way around us or left the building,” Kenneth explained. “I think we’d better try the back first. Stay here.”
Kenneth rushed into the kitchen. He rested his hand on his pistol in his holster. He walked up to a wooden door, and whispered “pizza”, and the door swung open. He turned left towards the oven. Right when he turned left, a fist was thrown into his face. Shocked, Kenneth pulled out his gun and shot it three times. One skimmed Anprikhov’s arm, but otherwise, none hit.
Anprikhov winced, then pulled out a cell phone. Kenneth was confused for a second, but when a handle with a trigger slid out the bottom of the gun, he knew. He barely had time to duck before the bullet hit him in the rib and he staggered backwards, knocking over a couple of crates.
All the people in the restaurant had heard the gunshots, and people were screaming and leaving. All the staff were coming to the back room with guns in their hands.
Anprikhov quickly acted by leaning close to a frozen oven and whispering “pizza.” The door slid open, and Anprikhov squeezed through and climbed down the ladder.
He skipped the last two bars, and sprinted into the underground hideout. He quickly took pictures of all the machinery. After that, he dashed back around and tried to find a place to hide. He snuck past a guard, and rounded a corner. He saw a maintenance closet, and quickly opened it. He squeezed in behind all the bulletproof vests and helmets. It was complete darkness. Anprikhov lay on his stomach, trying to make himself as unseen as possible. He was about to reach up and cover himself with some of the bulletproof vests, but he heard frantic footsteps from the other side of the door.
“Where did he go?” A muffled voice said.
“He must’ve gone the other way. Stay here while I go check,” Another muffled voice said.
He heard footsteps again as one of the rebels rushed away.
Anprikhov took a silent deep breath, and took a look at the photos he’d taken. The light lit up his face, but nothing more. He looked at the machinery he’d managed to get on camera, but he was forced to turn the camera off when he heard footsteps get closer and closer to the door.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and a rebel guard with a silver suit, bulletproof armor, and a long gun, held the door open and searched the room.
Anprikhov didn’t breath. He stayed as silent as he could tucked behind a stack of crates. He held his breath. He felt his breath shriveling up as he watched the guard turn his head right and left, examining the room.
If the guard had a flashlight, he would’ve been able to see Anprikhov. But the crates provided just enough shadow for Anprikhov so that he would not be able to be seen entirely without a light of some kind.
Anprikhov’s plan worked. The guard turned away and closed the door.
Anprikhov pulled out his camera again. He examined the photos to see if they were clear enough, which they were. He then pressed a rectangular button on the side. An address came up on the screen.
The address for the SSO headquarters.
Anprikhov sent the photos. Three seconds later, the images appeared on the main computer in the lobby, where James Bult would be called down to examine them.
Then he would have the proof he needed to shut down the restaurant and arrest the staff.
Nikata Anprikhov smiled to himself in the dark closet.

Fwoosh!
Vaughn jumped awake. He’d attempted to get a couple more hours of sleep in a bunk, but a light fwoosh sound had woken him up.
He quietly listened. The sound was gone.
Suddenly, it was as if it came out of thin air. The fwoosh sound started small, then got bigger and louder.
All of a sudden, a huge explosion threw Vaughn up into the air. The back of the plane burst into flames. Vaughn heard the loud creaking of metal as the section of the plane behind him tore off the rest of the plane. The wind was so strong, Vaughn had to hang on to one of the creases in the floor to keep himself from flying out the back of the plane.
His legs dangled and flew around in the air behind him. He tried to put them against the floor so he could crawl away, but he had almost no control of his legs because of the strong wind.
“Vaughn!”
Vaughn looked up to see Quinn holding his hand out in the doorway.
Vaughn reached out to Quinn, when suddenly, his hand slipped off the crease, and Vaughn flew backwards. There was an opening in the fire leading to the night sky.
That was where Vaughn flew out.
Vaughn was now free-falling.
Over an SSO base.
In the middle of a desert.
Without a parachute.
The wind slapped at Vaughn’s face as he watched the burning rebel plane shear through the air.
He was falling at almost one hundred miles an hour, and was about a mile above the ground. The cold night air was even colder with the strong wind attacking Vaughn, attempting to keep him in the air. His arms and legs were sprawled out like a water bug as he tore through the clouds.
Vaughn’s mind raced. He was falling at incredible speed above the biggest desert in the world, which was occupied by the biggest SSO base in the world.
Again, without a parachute.
Vaughn peered at the ground below. There were five turrets, all aligned next to each other. There was an oasis about one hundred meters behind the turrets with a small building next to it.
Water.
Vaughn turned himself in the air so that he was almost vertical. He blistered through the cold night air of the desert. He was halfway to the ground now. He could see many soldiers running and shooting at the burning plane.
They didn’t see Vaughn, though.
Vaughn positioned himself in the air directly above the oasis. He needed to land directly in the oasis or he would die from the fall.
Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew him off course. Vaughn cursed and tried to turn back.
One thousand five hundred feet.
Vaughn plummeted towards the oasis. He could now see distinct palm trees and swamp plants around the oasis.
One thousand feet.
Vaughn positioned himself horizontally again, but it was more as if the wind blew him into position. He felt slower in the air. Much slower.
All the sound around him was drained out of his ears by the wind. He couldn’t hear a single sound but the sound of his heart beating fast and loudly. His heart beat pounded in his eardrums, giving him a headache. He felt dizzy and disoriented. He gasped for breath, which came in a staggered inhale.
One hundred feet.
Vaughn had to use all of his strength to wrap his arms around himself. He attempted to straighten himself out in the air, but instead, he entered the water in an awkward belly flop position. His chest stung from the hard entry, but he was thankful to be alive.
He was lucky. The oasis was fifteen feet deep, and the swampy plants in the marsh broke his fall. He was about to come up above the surface when a dark figure above the water caught his eye.
That dark figure was holding a gun.
Vaughn fumbled for his gun, which was tucked inside his holster. He held in whatever breath he still had, which was not enough.
Vaughn ripped the gun out of his holster, and waved it around in the water, trying to hold it steady. He could just see the figure’s head staring at the murky water trying to see what had hit the water.
That was what Vaughn aimed for.
Vaughn pulled the trigger, and the figure crippled to the ground.
Vaughn let go of the gun and let it float to the surface. He felt his throat shriveling up as he desperately kicked towards the surface. The exhaled through his nose, but that only made him have less breath. With all of his might, he propelled himself towards the surface with two tired hands, pushing himself past the water.
Vaughn’s head was above the water. He gasped in the sweet air that he needed so much, and grabbed his gun, which was floating next to him. He swam until his feet hit solid ground, then walked shakily onto the shore next to the oasis.
Vaughn took off his rubber mask and poured the water onto the sand, then put it on again. He searched the body of the SSO guard he’d killed and found a security pass.
He figured he’d need that.
Vaughn tucked the security pass inside his pocket, and walked up the steps to the small building. He waved the security pass in front of the door, when suddenly, the door slid open and another SSO guard threw their fist into his face.
Vaughn staggered back and held his jaw, but was quick to recoil. He kicked the guard in the shin, which caused the guard to fall on that ankle. The guard winced, then did a sort of limp-kick, awkwardly thrusting his foot into Vaughn’s rib. Vaughn almost fell to the ground, but kept himself on his feet.
The kick hurt the guard more than it did Vaughn. The guard winced in pain, and fell on his left ankle.
Vaughn took advantage of this, and hit the man in the face twice before he knocked him unconscious.
Vaughn ran inside the building, and looked out the back door at the other end of the hall. He saw a raging fire far in that direction. That was where the plane must’ve crashed.
Vaughn slid the back door open and ran out. He had to regroup with the rest of the group. He couldn’t do this alone.
He dashed past a group of buildings with bright lights at the top of them, and below them was an artificial farm.
Helicopters hovered in the air around the wreckage, searching for bodies.
Vaughn was about five football fields away from the crash site, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t get there in time.
A group of soldiers passed to Vaughn’s right without noticing him. Vaughn kept his head in that direction, but when he looked forward, he had to skid to a stop. Behind a barbed fence with a metal door was a group of five soldiers looking the other way.
Vaughn didn’t stop in time, though, and he flew into the metal door and fell onto his back.
The ring of the metal was loud, and all the men turned around to see Vaughn lying on his back on the concrete.
“A rebel!”
“Get him!”
Vaughn scampered to his feet and dashed back behind the building next to the fence. He peered back past the corner and saw the men fumbling with the lock. Vaughn cursed and ran around the building the other way.
He was stopped by another guard.
Vaughn didn’t know where the guard came from, but at this point it didn’t matter. He immediately pulled out his gun and shot the guard in the chest.
Like a wild west duel.
Vaughn heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see the five guards running towards him. He quickly turned his gun on them and shot two instantly. A bullet whizzed by Vaughn’s face, barely missing.
Vaughn pulled the trigger again and sent another guard flying backward. One guard came from his hiding place behind the building and fired at Vaughn, missing wide right.
Vaughn was quick to answer, shooting and hitting the guard in the stomach. Suddenly, the final guard peeked out from behind the gate and fired at Vaughn.

The bullet skimmed Vaughn’s arm.
The bullet only skimmed Vaughn’s arm and cut him, but it forced Vaughn to press his arm on the wound as a reaction to the pain.
Vaughn looked up and instantly knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way quick enough as he hopelessly watched the guard aim his final shot at Vaughn’s head. Vaughn waited for the worse.
Instead, a bullet went inside the guard’s head.
Vaughn instantly looked to his right, where the bullet had came from, and saw Starr rushing towards him. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Vaughn.
“Thank God you’re alive!” He smiled. “How did you survive?”
“Long story,” Vaughn said. “How did you survive?”
“I had a parachute,” Starr answered.
“Is everyone okay?” Vaughn asked.
“As far as I know,” Starr answered. “But I don’t know much. We got separated right when we landed.”
“We need to regroup,” Vaughn said. “If we don’t have strength in numbers, we won’t be able to get past the main gate.”
Vaughn ran to the side of the building opposite of the gate and looked around it at the plane wreckage.
“Where did they go?” Vaughn asked. “Do you know?”
“All I know is that they went the other way,” Starr replied.
“Let’s get moving,” Vaughn said. “We need to find them as quickly as possible.”
Vaughn and Starr dashed past the building. Towards the wreckage.
Towards the heart of the lion’s den.
The Lambiyon was big. Bigger than Vaughn would’ve imagined. It was the best real estate deal in history. A whole continent for free.
Vaughn and Starr ran until they crouched behind a stack of steel girders. The plane wreck was just beyond the girders, and SSO guards were patrolling the crash site.
“I’m surprised we didn’t run into any on the way here,” Starr said.
“We must be just outside the perimeter they set,” Vaughn said. “Where did the others land?”
“I landed about twenty yards in front of the building I met you at,” Starr explained. “Quinn, Wilson, Shay, and Bell all landed close to me, but they decided to move towards the wreckage to regroup with everyone else. I told them to stay, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Starr listened intently for a second, as if trying to here a certain sound. He then peered over the girders, and pointed at a tall, futuristic building with reddish lights on top of it.
“They went in the direction of that building,” Starr said. “I just heard gunshots.”
Vaughn and Starr snuck around the wreckage and crept behind the guards securing the perimeter.
The building was another five football fields away, but it felt like twenty to Vaughn. He was tired from everything he’d done in the past few days, and he was ready for it to end.
Vaughn and Starr ran with their heads low through an airfield, and back up against an SUV. Starr turned around and observed two guards in Arabian robes with machine guns.
“We’re close. You can hear the gunshots, too, wright?”
“Yeah.”
Vaughn peered out at the guards. They looked around when another guard with an Arabian robe and a red fur cap yelled something to the guards in a language Vaughn couldn’t guess. The two guards ran off behind the guard in the red cap.
“They must need help,”Vaughn said.
“Which means they’re not dead yet,” Starr kept his eyes in that direction. “Come on!”
Starr rushed from behind the SUV and snuck through the gate that the guard in the red cap had opened. Vaughn followed close behind him, his gun loaded.
Starr and Vaughn crouched until they came to another stack of steel girders. The noise was much louder now, sounding as if it was just beyond the stack of girders.
Starr looked around cautiously, then slowly straightened his knees and stood up to peer above the girders.
“Vaughn, look at this,” Starr whispered in Vaughn’s ear.
Vaughn stood up next to Starr to see what Starr told him to look at.
The rest of the tam was holed up behind a truck with yellow netting over it. About ten SSO soldiers were yelling in foreign languages, and a large black tank with a cannon on top of it awaited orders to blow the rebels to pieces.
Starr ducked down and cursed.
“We can’t go forward with that tank in the way.”
Starr reached onto his belt and pulled off a small black dish and a device.
“Here. Sneak around the back and put this on the back of the tank. Here’s the detonator. If they see you, I’ll cover you from here.”
Vaughn nodded, and slowly and carefully climbed over the stack of steel girders. He silently set his first foot onto the concrete. Now the other foot...
His other foot slipped, and one of the steel girders clanged on another.
Just as the guards turned to see Vaughn , Vaughn tossed the black disk into the air. Being as small as a beetle, it barely made a noise, not able to be heard by the guards, as it hit the ground behind the guards.
Vaughn fell to the ground, but as he did, his index finger tapped the detonator with just enough force to press the button.
Suddenly, a massive explosion erupted, knocking almost all of the soldiers off their feet, and causing the remaining three to stumble forward.
Vaughn sprung into action. He dashed behind the tank before the driver figured out what had happened, and hopped onto the tank’s wheel. From there he climbed onto the top of the tank, and pulled on the hatch, but it was locked.
Vaughn then pulled out his pistol, and shot the four bolts on each corner. He then picked up the hatch. He had to use all of his remaining strength to carry it off the door.
One of the three men saw Vaughn standing on top of the tank and was about to shoot when Vaughn threw the hatch onto him.
Vaughn climbed down into the tank. There was only one person, the driver, because everyone else had exited the tank in an attempt to stop the rebels.
Bad idea.
Vaughn snuck up behind the driver’s seat, and looked up at the driver silently. He remembered the attack on Haven. When he hijacked the helicopter.
Vaughn hit the driver in the back of the neck hard and knocked him unconscious. He slid the driver out of the seat and sat in the driver’s seat.
The tank was the most advanced Vaughn had ever seen. It had X-Ray sight, and it had an advanced lock on system that could lock onto five targets at once and shoot eight missiles at a time with the cannon.
Vaughn slowly turned the left lever, moving the target system left. He locked onto a truck behind the two guards and pulled the trigger on both the levers.
Eight missiles shot out of the cannon at incredible speed. All Vaughn saw was a flash of light, and everything was covered in a cloud of smoke. The blast rang in Vaughn’s ears, almost deafening.
Vaughn slowly climbed out of the driver’s seat, climbed up the ladder and out the hatch door.
“Starr? Anyone?”
Suddenly, Vaughn heard someone coughing. He climbed down from the top of the tank and saw Starr walking towards him with a hand on his mouth, coughing into it.
“You... t-that was good thinking,” Starr coughed.
Shay came out from behind another truck and aimed his gun in every direction.
“They’re gone.”
The rest of the rebel team came out from behind the truck and stared at Vaughn in disbelief.
“You’re alive!” Quinn exclaimed. “We thought you’d die from the fall. How did you survive?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Vaughn answered. “Where’s Tehutan’s living quarters?”
“Salim Tehutan?” Quinn said. “I thought we were stopping the launch of the nuclear bomb.”
“Doc said to kidnap Tehutan if possible,” Vaughn said.
Vaughn paused for a moment and looked around at the group.
“We’ll split up. I’ll go with two others to find Tehutan. The rest of you need to go to the Launch Control and disable the launch.”
“Wait,” Starr said. “That’s uneven, though.”
“I think the SSO will have more defense around the launch. Besides, the Launch Control is farther away, and you’d likely face more guards on the way there,” Vaughn answered.
“So who goes where?” Manning asked.
Vaughn thought for a moment, then found his answer.
“Bell, Starr. You’re coming with me,” Vaughn turned to Emily. “You’re going to be the leader of the group disabling the launch. I’ll try and meet up with you once I kidnap Tehutan.”
“If... you kidnap Tehutan,” Manning said.
Vaughn ignored him and motioned for Bell and Starr to follow him.
“Move out.”

Vaughn waved the security pass he’d gotten earlier in front of a scanner, and the entrance to the living quarters slid open.
“So... why did you choose me?” Bell asked.
“Aren’t you a medic?” Vaughn answered.
“Yeah.”
“You have vaccinations?”
“Yeah.”
“Anesthesia?”
“Yeah, why?”
Vaughn’s face turned grim.
“I have a feeling it’ll take a lot to get this guy out of here.”
Starr headed for the elevator when Vaughn stopped him.
“No. The Master’s Quarters is on this floor. We just need to find it.”
Luckily for them, the SSO guard behind the counter had fallen asleep earlier in the day, and didn’t appear to be prone to waking up any time soon.
It was easy to find the Master’s Quarters. It was just to the right of the front desk, past two large marble double doors. Vaughn walked up to it, and frowned at an unfamiliar device on the door.
“Voltage generator. If we touch this door, five thousand volts will run through us and kill us.”
“How do we get around it?” Bell asked.
It was silent for a moment.
“Wait,” Starr slowly walked towards the door. He held his hand out and was about to press it against the door.
“Starr, no,” Vaughn whispered firmly.
Starr touched his palm against the door. He jumped slightly, but otherwise, nothing happened.
“What...?”
“It’s the rubber suit,” Starr explained. “It’s not a conductor.”
“Is it locked? Is the door locked?” Bell asked.
Starr disabled the voltage grid, and jingled the handle.
“Yeah. We can pick it, though. Right?”
Vaughn stepped forward and felt the door.
“Starr... do you have another one of those small discs?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need one.”
Starr’s eyes widened.
“You’re going to blow the door down? We need him alive, you know.”
“How else are we going to get in there?”
Starr backed off, and Vaughn placed the small black disc on the door. He backed up slowly, and placed his index finger on the detonator.
One... two... three...


The Launch Control wasn’t far from the living quarters. Only one hundred yards away.
Emily and the group of rebels only had to face one SSO operative before making it to the launch pad.
The launch pad was alike any launch pad in the world, except for one thing. In stead of a control booth, there was some sort of a computer built into the rocket. A keypad was attached to it.
Emily ran to the computer. She typed a random code, and a message immediately came up on the screen.
“Code denied. Proceeding with launch,” Emily read off the screen.
Emily turned to the rest of the group.
“There’s a code that has to be typed in... does anyone know what it could be?”
The group was silent for a moment.
“How much time is left?” Shay asked.
Emily turned back to the computer. A number counting by seconds was set at the top left corner of the screen.
“About five minutes,” Emily answered.
“How about... H-Haven?” Wilson suggested.
Emily typed in ‘Haven’.
“No.”
Sweat started to trickle down Emily’s face. Four minutes and thirty seconds.
“SSO?”
Emily tried ‘SSO’.
“No!”
“Uh...”
It was silent again, except for the turbines on the rocket slowly starting to spin.
Four minutes.
“We need to think more complicated,” Emily said. “Why not a number?”
At that moment, gunshots fired, and missed above the group. Quinn pulled out his long gun and fired it in that direction. Emily shrugged and looked around with wide eyes.
“Wilson!” Emily shouted at Wilson before he went into the attack. “Cover me! I need to find out what the code is!”
Wilson nodded and moved next to Emily with his finger resting on the trigger of his gun, challenging any SSO officer to dare come near them.
Emily frantically typed random codes in the computer. 2911. No. 5084. No.
Nothing was working. Two minutes were left on the timer. Emily tried to think more complicated.
“What was the year...”
Suddenly, a huge explosion rampaged behind Emily and Wilson. Two rebels were swallowed by the hot cloud, but Emily and Wilson weren’t sure who.
Wilson turned back to Emily, who was staring petrified at the explosion.
“Emily! The bomb!”
Emily snapped out of her trance and typed frantically.
One minute left.
Emily’s frustration grew as she typed. Nothing was working.
“I...I don’t know! I don’t know!” Emily squeaked.
“Run, then!” Wilson shouted.
Wilson grabbed Emily’s arm and pulled her away from the keyboard.
“No!” Emily screamed.
Wilson shouted to the rest of the group that it was time to move out. They dashed away from the launch pad with their heads down, avoiding bullets that came their way.
Wilson kept hold of Emily’s arm. He knew the bomb wasn’t disabled, but what could he do? There was easily less than a minute left before the rocket propelled into the air.
Wait...
“Wait!” Wilson turned around and was now being held back by Emily.
“Wilson! We need to go now!”
“The code!” Wilson shouted. “I know what the code is!”
Emily tried to listen over the gunfire.
“You can’t make it in time!” Emily yelled, and yanked Wilson away.
Wilson stared back at the rocket with wide, petrified eyes.
They had failed... and Haven was done for.


The door flew off its hinges. Vaughn jumped even though he was ready for the explosion. He and Starr dashed into the room with Bell close behind them.
Tehutan was sitting at a desk typing a message on a computer before the door blew off its hinges. Tehutan quickly turned around, and leaped out of the chair as he saw the door flying towards him. The door smashed his computer, and Tehutan yelped as he fell awkwardly on his arm.
Vaughn ran in front of Tehutan, and grabbed his good arm. He shouted for Starr to grab the other one.
Tehutan squirmed and thrashed, trying to escape from their grasp.
“How... how did you-”
“Save your voice, Tehutan,” Vaughn said. “You may need it.”
Vaughn motioned for Bell, who injected anesthetic into Tehutan’s arm. Before Tehutan could ask any more questions, his eyes closed, and his muscles relaxed.
Vaughn gave a thumbs up to Bell and Starr. Starr slung Tehutan over his shoulder, and Bell slid his vaccine back into his belt.
“Alright, now we just need to-”
Vaughn was interrupted by a loud rumble. The three stumbled as the ground shook below them.
“E-e-earthquake?” Starr yelled over the noise.
Vaughn rushed out of the room as fast as he could. He dashed out the door, back out the door of the complex.
The tremors were worse outside. Vaughn could hardly stand. He had to spread out his arms to balance himself. He heard the faint sound of gunshots over the loud rumble shaking the ground.

Vaughn looked off in the distance and watched in horror as the bomb rocketed into the air. In a day, the rocket would hit the newly acquired city of Haven, and millions, innocent and rebels, would die in the shadowy ashen cloud it would produce.

Unless...

Vaughn did before he thought, pulling ‘doc’ from his back, and aiming it at the rocket as it shot into the sky with a blinding light stream below it.

“Vaughn!”

Vaughn heard about five people say his name at once, but he didn’t listen.

“Vaughn, stop!” Vaughn heard Emily yell.

Vaughn didn’t listen. He pulled the trigger, and instantly, a bright flash blinded Vaughn.
A loud blast rang in his ears. The rest of his team watched helplessly as the rocket streaked across the sky, towards the bomb.
One second it was there, the next it was gone. It all happened in a fraction of a second.
Too fast for Vaughn to do anything about it.
The bomb exploded in a bright, fiery inferno. It was almost as if all the light in the sky was drained out as the brilliant flash of light superseded the morning sky. The explosion filled half the sky with smoke, and burning pieces of debris were raining over the compound.
Vaughn turned to see Starr carrying Tehutan over his shoulder. He turned and looked at the rest of the group.
“Where’s Schiapri and Manning?” Vaughn asked.
Emily shook her head. “They didn’t make it.”
Vaughn’s heart sank. He heard soldiers’ footsteps in the distance. Coming from the Living Quarters and the area of the launch.
Quinn shook his head.
“We’re dead.”
Vaughn’s mind raced. He didn’t feel helpless, though.
He felt hopeful.
Vaughn looked around for a possible exit. He turned his head in every direction.
“Head to the airfield,” Vaughn concluded. “We can pick up a vehicle, and get out of here.”
“We can’t. They’ll catch up,” Shay said. “We’re way outnumbered. There’s just no way.”
Vaughn dipped his head down, deep in thought. Shay was right. They couldn’t escape with these odds. But what if...
“I’ll stay,” Vaughn said.
“What?” Emily asked.
Vaughn’s voice was shaking. He couldn’t even believe he was saying this.
“Everyone else go. I’ll stay and make sure no one comes behind you. Go!”
All the rebels went except Emily.
“Vaughn-”
“Just go. I’ll cover you!” Vaughn assured her.
Emily stood still for a second, breathing heavily, then leaned forward and kissed Vaughn.
Vaughn tried not to stare in disbelief, and kept his serious face.
“Go. Now.”
Emily nodded twice, and ran off after the rest of the group, leaving Vaughn alone again.
Vaughn now stood between a rock and a hard place. His feet trembled below his legs, which were shaking twice as bad. He held his long gun in both hands, and aimed at the cloud of smoke churning before him.
Waiting.
The footsteps grew louder, and Vaughn started to regret his decision.
Suddenly, an SSO officer emerged out of the smoke, but immediately crumbled to the ground as Vaughn shot him. Then two more came. Vaughn kept shooting.
A swarm came and surrounded him, but he kept shooting.
Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and pinned it behind his back painfully. Vaughn dropped the gun and cocked his head up to see the SSO guard with the red fur cap.
He was pointing a gun to Vaughn’s back.
“Where did they go?” The guard demanded.
Vaughn didn’t answer, and the guard pulled the trigger. Vaughn’s vision went dark.