Taylor nodded and couldn't help but admit it must be a bizarre sight to behold, but it was clear the General already knew Jones was the infiltrator.
"Captain Jones, one of yours from the very beginning."
"Near enough," replied Taylor, "but that isn't him. That is a Krys agent."
"We know. He was detected passing out scanners as he entered this building, but he cut a bloody path through."
"Something tells me it's time you upgraded your security. The clone got through to Armand and tried to bust him out. When I stopped him from doing it, he took the head for obvious reasons and made a break for it."
"So now we have no surviving Krys subject?"
"We have him. He'll live."
"Is the real Captain Jones still alive also?"
Taylor nodded in agreement, and Dupont's face lit up.
"This is a real boost to our position. If we can get the real Jones and clone together, it will be irrefutable proof of what the Krys have been doing."
"Yeah, well good luck getting him here. He doesn't want anything more to do with this war."
"Like it or not, he's in it; more than ever now."
"Well you can be the one to tell him that."
"Something tells me he'll be more amenable to the idea now. He's got a clone running around raising hell and a wife in the hospital. Wouldn't that drive you to want to fight back?"
"It would, yes," he replied. Though he didn't agree it would for Jones. The last time he saw the real Jones he was not the man he used to know, not even close. He wanted nothing more than to have him back alongside in the Inter-Allied Regiment. He looked down at the body of the clone and thought not of his own pain and the casualties they had suffered that day, but for the hatred he had for the clone making him believe he had his comrade back.
Dupont looked around again at the devastation all around Taylor.
"Do you destroy everything where you go?"
Taylor smiled in response.
"I never look for these fights. They just seem to land in my hands, or some wise ass throws me in the shit."
"It's good work here. We came so close to losing our evidence. Voice recordings, video footage, documented evidence; they are all pointless without the specimen as proof. We could have lost that, and now we have furthered our inventory."
"Where do we go from here?"
"I've got a meet arranged with UEN representatives, and you're just the man I need for it."
"Not going yourself, Sir?"
He shook his head. "Can't risk it, and anyway, your name means a lot to many people. If anyone can get the point across, it's you."
"I'm no ambassador or negotiator. I'm a marine, a fighter. You want to send a fighter to try and negotiate for peace? Only way I know how to win peace is to kill the enemy."
"You'll do just fine."
Well that's fucking great, he thought.
"Get to the hospital and have them make sure you're all okay, and go see Jones' wife while you're at it. I want you and your senior officers for a briefing at 1300 hours."
He dropped the pole, threw the head over so that it rolled to a halt beside the clone’s body, and strode on out, leaving the soldiers in amazement at what they had seen. As he headed towards the hospital, he realised just how much he ached from the fight. The wrench strike to the arm had hit the bone in his forearm, and it was now swelling and a little numb.
Sometimes he felt as if he and his unit did everything in the war, and then he arrived at the hospital and was reminded how small a part they played in the overall picture. Parker was waiting for him at the door.
"What the fuck's going on?" she asked.
"You know Jones came back to us yesterday?"
"Yeah."
"It wasn't Jones."
"Shit."
"No kidding."
They walked on into the hospital to find Dubois, but they found an empty room. Mitch grabbed a nurse walking by.
"Sergeant Dubois, she was in this room, where is she now?"
"In surgery, Sir," he replied.
"Dubois? What's she doing here?" asked Eli.
Taylor couldn't bring himself to explain it, and he'd had enough of the stuffy air inside the hospital. It was air conditioned, but like all hospitals, it never smelt or felt good. He stepped outside and sat at a bench beneath a shelter extending over the front of the building, resting his head back against the wall. The sun was up now and it was baking hot; his exhaustion made him fall asleep where he sat.
It was an hour later when he awoke and found Parker still sitting beside him. A shadow passed over him, and he saw the silhouette of a man in front of him. He cupped his hand over his eyes to see it was Jones, though he barely recognised him. He wore casual civilian trousers and a loose khaki shirt. He had a beard now, longer hair, and looked nothing like the strictly disciplined Captain Jones he had known so well. It was at this point he thought if he had been in contact with his old friend, he would have known the clone to be false.
"Is it really you?" asked Taylor.
"I should have known you'd be at the centre of all this," replied Jones.
Taylor got up off his feet and offered out his hand in friendship, but Jones would not take it.
"Of course it's me, who else would I be?" he responded bluntly.
"Trust me, we've got a lot to discuss."
"I didn't come here to join you. I didn't come to fight. I came here for my wife."
Taylor was surprised to hear it. He thought Charlie might have finally come around, and it was a great disappointment to hear it was not the case.
"She out of surgery yet?" he asked.
Taylor shrugged and looked to Eli who didn't have an answer either.
"I'd like to know as much as you do."
"Did you speak to her when she arrived?"
Taylor nodded. "I told her you'd come back to us, and you had. That's what we need to talk to you about. Captain Charlie Jones drank with us last night, and this morning cut a bloody path through this base. It was because of Dubois I discovered he was not you, but too late to save as many lives as I would have liked."
Jones didn't seem to care for any of what he was saying.
"I want to see her," he responded.
Taylor led him inside to the room where he had first seen Dubois and was glad to see she had returned. They stepped through into her room, and she smiled on seeing Jones approach.
He looked over to the nurse tending her.
"How is she?"
"Well, she should make a full recovery in a few months."
A tear dropped down his cheek as he took her hand.
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't," she replied.
Dubois was drowsy and barely able to stay awake.
"She needs plenty of rest," said the nurse.
Dubois beckoned for Jones to come a little closer, so he knelt in, but they could all just about hear Dubois' faint voice.
"I want you to do something for me," she said.
"What? Anything," he replied.
"Fight, fight for us."
He stood upright and looked into her eyes to see her sincerity and knew what he must do. It was a moment of clarity he'd not known in a long time. He turned to Taylor who could see new life in his old friend’s face.
"These bastards mean to take everything from me, and I don't intend to let them without a fight. I want my commission back," he snapped.
"You have it."
* * *
Inter-Allied was formed up and anxiously waiting to hear what was coming next.
"All gather in!" Taylor ordered.
They were a little shocked at his relaxed approach and ambled forwards.
"Come on!" he yelled.
"We have a new mission on our hands, but not for the Regiment; for just six of us. No mission we have ever undertaken has been safe or with any certainty of returning, and this is far from an exception to the rule. Six of us are going to a meet with the enemy where we frankly have no idea what to expect, or if they'll keep they word of a ceasefire. I am gonna ask for volunteers."