“This city is beautiful,” she said with cheerful veneration, “Do you know about all these?”
“Some of them, the Italyn ones, of course. The Kremlin, Saint Basil’s Cathedral.” He glanced over, trying to see which particular card she had complimented. “That one you like is Madrid, the real one, in Spain.”
“That rat hole hardly does it justice.” Marco growled and wrinkled her nose, and Sergio shared her sentiment, trying not to remember their unfortunate passing through Tretyakovskaya a few days ago.
“I wonder if it’s still there,” Sergio said absentmindedly, putting his notebook and pen into his bag.
“The Eiffel Tower, mhm,” Marco either hadn’t heard him or didn’t care to explore the subject and continued on examining the photographs, “This one’s in Egypt, the great pyramid of Giza.”
“I have one more you might like.” Sergio knew how to get her attention, taking down the postcard of the green statue from the shelf in front of him and handing it to her. “Sacco gave this one to me for my birthday one year.”
“Oh! It’s the Statue of Liberty, in America.” Marco proclaimed excitedly. “A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame is the imprisoned lightning, and her name-Mother of Exiles.” Sergio thought that it sounded like Marco was cryptically describing herself; touched by the electric anomaly and protector of a station full of refugees of mixed races. But he noticed her carefully examining the back of the card and figured out she was reading from it.
“Can you read English?” Sergio looked at her puzzlingly, having never been able to fully decipher the notations on the back of the card.
“No, I read about it in a travel book.” Marco glanced up at him with mock annoyance. “It’s kind of symbolic, you know, him giving you a card of the supposed symbol of freedom. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” That part of the quote he did know.
“I suppose.” Sergio didn’t fully understand the connection, but didn’t really want to continue the conversation. He set about double-checking that he had his usual accoutrements: notebook, battery charger, flashlight, trench knife, lighter, gas mask, filters, medical kit, compass, and watch. His assigned weapons were down in his locker in the armory, though he still had Senya’s Tokarev pistol in his desk drawer. Setting aside his pack on the chair, he quickly strapped on his armored vest and knee pads. At the last minute, he decided to take the pistol and set it in snugly in his belt holster. “Shall we get your gear now?”
“What’s the rush? You said we have a few hours.” Marco shrugged as she finished looking over the postcards, gently setting down the one of the Statue of Liberty on the desk.
“Well if you get dressed we can go down to the armory and practice shooting or fighting a small. Plus, now I’m all geared up and you just look silly,” he teased, strapping his helmet to the outside of his rucksack for easy access later.
“Jerk.” She laughed even though she sneered at him. “But I guess that’s more fun than sitting around. Most of my new stuff is down there anyway, I just need to get my bag from the barracks.”
“Lead the way.” He gestured to the door to allow her out first. After she squeezed past him and exited into the hall he glanced around the room one last time, completing his mental checklist. He set the postcard of the Statue of Liberty carefully back on the shelf and turned out the light.
Now fully outfitted and supplied, Sergio and Marco looked almost like identical twins as they waited not-so-patiently outside the command center. Although he was still taller and wider than her, the Brotherhoodn soft-shell body armor squared up Marco’ features and made her look more masculine. He imagined that once she put on a helmet and gas mask, she would be indistinguishable from any other Hunter, and perhaps that was the point. She had grumbled to Vladimir about wearing a helmet, insisting that she could see and hear better without it on, and not knowing what exactly to do with her hair because it was rather long when it wasn’t twisted up in that plastic clip. In the end she had refused to take it entirely, leaving it on top of Sacco’s wooden box when she had gone to collect the Vintorez and three magazines for it. Sergio hoped that her having it as her main weapon would bring them some hidden luck, as many of the missing Hunter’s tokens seemed to do.
When Vera was finally ready for them, there was very small pomp and circumstance as they strode side by side into the small glass room at the far end of the command center. Several large maps were strewn across the conference table, and two large computer screens displaying faction front lines and outposts were mounted on the back wall. Only one other Hunter was in the room, looking to be Vera’s body guard, and he had distinctly non-Italyn facial features.
“Alright you two, listen up,” Vera started gruffly, and turned to face the screens as he explained the mission parameters. “Your assignment is essentially to reconnoiter around the entryways to Verona. The Realm has been emboldened lately, not so much in the tunnels towards Polis, but they’re taking as much ground as they can up there – we suppose as a way to alleviate over-crowding and for strategic positioning near Sicily exchange posts such as Pavelets and Prospect Mira. They recently launched an offensive into Barrikadnaya 1905 which has in turn caused an uproar with Sicily.” Vera gestured incredulously to the screens, pointing out the Realm symbol on top of the mentioned station which was connected to the Circle line.
“Do we have permission to engage if necessary?” Marco said coldly, narrowing her eyes as she spoke in the Colonel’s pause, tightening her grip on the stock of the Vintorez resting against her shoulder.
“You will of course try to remain unseen,” Vera turned around and returned her icy stare, apparently wary of her eagerness to engage her former comrades. “We want to gather as much updated information as we can – their positions, what they number, what kinds of equipment or activity. However, if you are engaged by them then you have my authorization to fire back but only in self-defense. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Marco resounded clearly.
“I figure you might understand something about their mindset or motivations up there, although I understand it’s been several years and you do not share their ideologies – thank god.” Vera finished under his breath. “I keep in mind your refugee status, and I’m not aiming to send you into the lion’s den, Marco. Sacco would never forgive me for that, and he wouldn’t forgive you either for not being cautious. The Realm is not to be underestimated, they are a highly organized and well-trained military force.”
Just as Sergio was convinced that all the sentimentality from the previous day had been locked away in the commander, the magic name had come up again. He was almost getting sick of hearing about Sacco so much lately, but still looked over at Marco to assure that she was not succumbing to emotion. She looked just as stoically resolute as he had seen her during their harrowing journey to Polis and all his concern was quenched.
“I’ll get you anything I can, but aside from an Oberscharführer called Ivashov who was a stalker platoon leader, I don’t know much about their surface outposts except near the Black Station service area.” Marco gestured with one hand at the location on one of the maps on the table; Vera nodded his head as if he had already known all about it.
“Yes, we know of this Ivashov; he and his men are usually acting as the scouting team for the rest of the force to follow up on. I want to you exercise extreme caution should you recognize him or anyone else; I would rather you find a place to hide before returning rather than push your luck. Understand? This trial is not for you to prove how reckless you can be, so don’t go emulating him too closely.” Vera was referring to Sacco again.