Sage_of_Eyes
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Sanctioned 7
🕑 Added 2024-08-01 00:08:09 +0000 UTCSanctioned: 7
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Commissioned by Ichypa
Wordcount: 2500
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Henry’s glider came with a lot of gear and equipment, but most importantly it came with camouflage netting, so once night passed we were able to put up concealment against anyone looking from above. Since the netting included thermal liners along with all the muddling patterns and rough patches that mimicked tree tops from above, we were effectively concealed and could build above ground around the shelter.
Between two Sanctioned, all I had to do was put the wires in the right places and put fuel into the generator. Henry wrenched down massive pine trees and made palisades, while my assigned Sanctioned when ahead and shaped earth with his mind to shore them up. While I read through manuals and fixed up the sensitive systems, they built a hidden fortress in the woods by themselves.
Complete with a launch site.
It was just a square patch of land, but I’ve been to enough US bases to know the significance. Escape pods were going to readied on that patch, so if an attack came, we could cut our losses and run without risking ourselves. The pods were going to come in on their own power, low and hugging the tree line, with extra fuel stores dropped off in a supply zone to refill them. In the pods, we’ll be able to go from being under attack to speeding away to safety in moments.
While artillery crashed onto our old position and destroyed the base and all the attackers.
Once the real, valuable assets were secured, the people and the operators, everything else was just to be denied to the enemy. I’ve seen videos of some idiots celebrating taking an American sanctioned firebase, firing after the pods speeding away, and being annihilated. Our spot and the surrounding area were zero’d in by satellites. Since this was American territory and no one was going to complain, they probably had a massive station armed to the teeth in geosynchronous orbit providing overwatch.
This place gets taken and a lot of firepower hits it and its surrounding area.
The forest would get taken out, probably.
Anyway, I finished my work while they got their own preparations done, and gathered for an impromptu meeting.
“I have been updated on the situation. The Unsanctioned attempted to kill you, Inspector Alhambra, and my student retaliated accordance with procedure. However, after that occurred, it was revealed to you by the civilians that they are under threat by Unsanctioned previously kept away by your would-be killers.” Henry recounted the situation quite clearly. It was hard to believe it was only yesterday when I saw two people and a whole, abandoned steel mill turn into a bleeding cube the size of a shed. “I read through reports on the situation and found that this region the surrounding ones are under threat.”
Both of them had rations cooking away in pouches already, while I attended to my own. They had two packs cooking each, their enhanced metabolisms needing them to eat more than five thousand calories a day when actively using their powers to not wither away. It didn’t account for their actual abilities, of course. Being able to lift several tons or crush whole buildings wasn’t possible with their increased metabolic needs. The source of the changes remained a mystery, though I wasn’t about to complain about decent food.
“What kind of threat?” Most of the meals were stewed in thick gravies with some sort of dehydrated grain or carb that it could be ladled on to. Some of the older folks back home told me that it was a step above the old MREs that the armies had, but that was probably due to all the dehydrated fats and milks added to reinforce the stuff. I looked it up. Where an old MRE had around eight hundred or so calories on average per serving, this stuff was nearly double. I only needed to eat one a day and be perfectly fine. “Best we find out as much as we can through actual reports. I feel it best that we limit interaction with the natives. Limit any chances of them making mistakes.”
“I agree.” Henry gave me a nod, and I probably racked up a single point of approval from the guy for the first time. My assigned Sanctioned practically preened at him approving me. I could see the little guy’s estimation of me rising. It took a lot to not remember the results of his attacks, but I managed. My retort pouch finished hissing, and I took out the rehydrated and reheated food. Hunks of rehydrated protein swimming in a thick brown gravy and mash nearly yellow with all the dried butter added to it. Massive amounts of calories in just a few bites, but bland as heck, so that it wouldn’t become unpalatable because of strong flavors conflating with bad experiences. Thankfully, though, my small pack of personal belongings contained a little something. “Destroying the threat is the priority. Whatever you aim with the region, Inspector Alhambra, is best achieved without Sanctioned support being necessary.”
Ah, that was his game then.
He wanted his student out of here and being prepped for better assignments, while I received normal troops and officers to help me out.
Sounded pretty good to me.
“So long as my Sanctioned gets his accolades for a job well done in the process, I don’t see any issue with that. From what I can tell, having normal soldiers and diplomats will make sure asset allocation is optimal, too.” I did my best to convey to the WMD assigned to me that I was making my plans on the basis that I wanted the best for his organization and his people. It seemed to work, since the kid was radiating awe at me through all his layers of armor and protection. It almost hurt, since I was terrified of him and just doing my best to keep a mean poker face on. “Any of you want some hot sauce? A bit of curry? A little spice?”
In my personal pack, I had a sealed-up container box that was airtight that held in several more airtight containers. It cost a hefty sum, and it weighed a bit, but it saved me on more than one field mission where I only had American supplies on hand. They accounted for calories and vitamins perfectly, but they kept things bland so soldiers don’t get sick of eating food with robust flavors attributed to combat. I found not having flavorsome food ruined my mood something fierce, so I packed my own spices. The stronger the better, since I needed less to add to my meals.
“I’ve got some old-fashioned gunpowder from India, a bit of hot sauce from Mexico, and even some chili powder from who-knows-where. That’s besides the normal curry mixes and stuff, too.” I was proud of my packed-up collection. More than once, I made friends and contacts just because I had a little box full of flavorings. As different as everyone is nowadays, everyone still ate food, and we all liked it when that food tasted good. “I recommend half a teaspoon at a time, then trying how it tastes.”
My Sanctioned stared at Henry, who nodded at him.
“There’s no issue with trying spices, but keep in mind you’re not used to the flavor. They also won’t affect the required nutrients that you need adversely.” Henry stated and I was reminded of another, simple fact. I only ate MREs like this while out on the field. They probably had similar meals wherever they were. The fact that the guy had to warn my Agent about spices reminded me just how stark things can get when it comes to logistics. I could buy pinches of spices just fine, but if you bought in bulk for everyone like the Americans? The costs would be eye watering. “Use a little at a time, just as Inspector Alhambra instructed.”
“Understood, thank you very much, Inspector Alhambra!”
“No problem, Agent.”
I gave him a nod, and we ate in silence for a bit, but a few bites into my now-spices reheated and rehydrated stew with mash… I noticed Henry looking my way.
Right.
We’re on the clock.
“So, who are the suspects and what’ve they got?”
“Reports are sporadic across the entire region. Only a few small towns have re-accepted returning to the nation, and they are in the process of being rebuilt.” Meaning that there was a strong military presence in the new towns protecting the reconstruction process, but they weren’t suited for going out there and hitting bandits. And, of course, you wouldn’t risk Sanctioned for scouting missions. Drones and satellite scans were preferred for that. “A constellation of low-Earth observation satellites is being diverted over our region, analysts will attempt to make sense of the reported attacks, and we will be provided with places to investigate.”
In other words, Henry wanted us to stick around here and do nothing while American technology and logistical capability won the day.
Sounded good to me, but there was something we could do.
“Any sites close to us that were attacked? There’s some things drones and satellites can’t pick up. We can get footprint pictures, find traces of energy blasts, and all sorts of other things.” Now, this was my battleground. Breaking down scenes of crimes and determining the cause was my area of expertise. The Americans focused on the big picture, but we couldn’t afford to do the same back home. We had to be clever, make use of limited resources as much as possible, and generally rely on skill and a lot of training to make up for deficiencies. “With some luck, we’ll at least be able to find out what to worry about and protect against it. With a lot of luck, we’ll get the numbers of our attackers, too. And, of course, we’ll be avoiding townsfolk in the area.”
Henry pondered my question for a moment, while my agents chewed thoughtfully on his now-spiced stew, but the guy eventually answered.
“I see the wisdom and practicality of your proposal, and visiting a prior attack location is low risk.” I’d say there was no risk at all, especially since the people we were looking for were working the whole region over. They’ll be out there looking for more parties to crash. Not observing old places that they hit. This stank of people gathering power and funds to make a stand or put themselves up as a warlord, just like back home. Of course, there was also the possibility that we were dealing with roaming bandits out to just make it rich. They’d probably have skipped out already, though. “I will research the reports and locate the closest one. If my guess is correct, we can head over to one and return before the day ends.”
“Sounds great to me. Let’s do that.” Henry gave me a nod, while I turned back to my agent. His mask was raised to let him eat, but even then, it was only the lower half of his face available. Same went for Henry. They both had helmets and armor on, despite being in the middle of a fortified location with loads of concealment. Some would say it’s paranoia, but if it’s their standard practice, the rule in question must’ve been written in blood. Wearing that stuff all the time wore it down, exposing it to the elements, and it wasn’t that comfortable either. The rule to keep the armor and helmet on wouldn’t be implemented without good reason. “How do you feel about that, Agent?”
I addressed the kid directly and ignored the small glare sent my way by his teacher.
He was quiet for a bit, or so I thought, he just made sure to chew thoroughly and swallow before speaking.
A real proper lad.
“I would like to learn how to investigate. I think that I’m strong, but there are things that I need to learn besides that.” That was understating it, if anything. The kid could reliably turn people in cubes of meat and entire buildings with them. Dammit, when am I getting over that? I guess they call it mental trauma for a reason. Feels like I need to handle a flash of terror and stress whenever the memory comes up. “And, if I know my enemies, it’ll be less dangerous to confront them, even from maximum distance, right?”
He looked at his teacher, who gave a nod after a moment.
“Yes. The Inspector intends to find clues regarding our possible targets and their numbers. That is vital information, as to ensure we won’t get surprised. It’s especially valuable if we find signs of power usage, too. We don’t want to leverage your ability only to find some form of reprisal power is in play.” Henry gave a nod and the boy looked downright pleased with himself with a full smile around the plastic spoon he was using to eat. Really, the kid should be in a school playing with other children, rather than out here. Right. Remembering what this kid should be doing helps. None of this is his fault. The simple fact of the matter was that the monopoly over violence needed to be reinstated and this was the only way that hasn’t blown up in everyone’s faces. Yet. Fingers crossed it doesn’t. “Be sure to pay close attention.”
“I will. I promise.” The kid stated and Henry gave a nod, before the three of us went back to eating.
As we ate, it was a bit abrupt, but I made a simple decision.
I’d be doing my best to take in some people alive.
We’ve been pulled back from the brink of collapse, but now we need to be better. Of course, the big stick needs to be right over the shoulder in case anything wrong happens, but right now we were in a position of power. It was time to work towards saving people, rather than forcing the world back to sanity.
I was sure that there’ll be problems, and people who won’t come quietly, but we have parameters to deal with those already.
It was time to forge new ones, and set the trend for what was to come next.
Even if the trend didn’t get picked up, and all that I have done now didn’t bear any fruit in the future, at the very least my conscience will just be that much lighter.
Hopefully, I can give this kid some memories of bringing people in, rather than killing them.
