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“As you were!” The captain stepped through the jamb and centered himself at the podium in the front of the classroom—a trail of subordinates followed.

Captain Abel stood above the tallest of those he commanded. He was bald with a mustache. His shoulders and chest much wider than the podium itself. His brown, deep-set eyes moved carefully over the men that sat before him wondering why they had been summoned. “Anyone have anything before I get started?” With his rank, the question was undeniably asked for the appearance of being courteous.

“No, Sir!” A uniformed response. Not a single person uttered a word beyond that—everyone inched back into their seat eager for instruction.

This must be a damn big deal. Captain Abel rarely made the trek from the Capital. Typically, he limited his presence within L.P.H. Fortress to hand-written directives passed on by lowly clerks.

He gathered the reports from the podium and shuffled through them while whispering to his lieutenant. There were several agreeable nods between them—some items worth noting with a touch of his finger against the pages, but once he finished, Captain Abel patted him on the back, signaling that their conversation had ended. He tapped the stack of reports along its bottom to even it, laid it down, and then ran his hands along the sides of the podium. “You there, young man.”

“Yes, sir.” A young boy stepped forward and snapped to attention. From where Thomas sat, he could see the kid shaking, his clenched fists quivering alongside his legs. Thomas caught a glimpse of the red ‘O’ sewn into the cuff of his uniform sleeve—an orphan left by the Almawt virus to fend for himself in this world.

“Hang the mid-north sector.”

“Yes, sir.” He thrust himself forward, seemingly relieved by the task, eager for anything to take him from the spotlight that had been cast upon him. He sorted through a collection of large maps on the tables just underneath the windows.

Thomas watched while he struggled through the stack. That kid has a decent job. I’m sure Joseph could handle something like that. An administrative job would suit him well. Eventually, the boy found the one he needed and hung it in position.

“Good work, son. Now, be a good lad and grab me some water.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy scampered off down the hall.

“Okay,”—Captain Abel exhaled—“what I’m about to share could be considered sensitive, so I don’t want any of this leaving the room.”

One of his subordinates took the hint and closed the door.

“I try to operate with transparency. I like my Guards to know what’s going on in our world… Just curious, who knows why I brought you here?”

Faces met with one another as everyone looked around the room, but no one seemed to hold the answer.

“Just me? Alright, well at least we’ve managed to keep this out of the rumor mill— it’s about damn time if you ask me.”

The entirety of the room politely chuckled then once again fell into an attentive silence.

“Well then, I guess we’ll get down to business. No reason to keep you sitting here in suspense.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “It’s been nearly two months since the Butcher declined our offer and slipped away. Unfortunately, with his group’s nomadic nature, we lost track of them for a bit, originally thinking that he moved his operation closer to their headquarters up north. But, we eventually found out that was incorrect. Regardless, we knew the day would come when he’d turn up again in our operational area. The good news is a scout’s report came in late last night stating that the Butcher set up shop in Burnet Woods.”

Several men shifted in their seats. Collectively, everyone knew what this meant.

Here we go!

“Now, we all know we can’t let him continue with this operation. Negotiations failed, so there’s going to be a much different approach. A quick response with very few words, if any. The reason being that once news spreads that he’s back… people will be flocking to him. It’s a certainty. We’ve already seen it happen.” He scratched his chin, taking a few seconds with his thoughts. “My only concern is that we don’t have an accurate timeframe on how long he’s been active there. He could be packing up as we speak.

“But despite this reality, we will press on treating it as if he had just arrived. The importance of ending his operation is twofold. First off, the damn guy’s a madman, and we can’t have him running loose in the region. We gave him the chance to turn over the women and to never come back. Obviously, he chose to ignore that offer. If his way of life begins to flourish, it’s going to make things harder on our efforts. We can’t have him recruiting people.

“The second thing is that we can’t afford to waste— Come on.” Captain Abel gestured to the boy peeking through the window in the door. He waved him in and took the mug of water, taking a quick sip. “Thank you.”

The boy nodded and took his place within the room.

“As I was saying, the second thing rides along the idea of wasted potential. These women that he traffics are wasted lives. What they’re doing isn’t productive for rebuilding society. It’s actually tearing it down. We have plenty of shit that needs to get done, and we need the people to do it. If they can’t see that on their own, we’ll make them.

“I don’t think any of us believed it when the CDC said Almawt would essentially wipe humans from the earth, but as we venture further out, it’s becoming obvious their projection was accurate. Now let this sink in… We may be the only ones left working to restore order to this world.”

I just can’t imagine—

A crack of thunder and rain began to patter against the window sills.

“That’s kind of ominous, huh?” The captain grinned while looking back to his lieutenant. “You couldn’t have cued it up earlier?”

“Next time, sir.”

“Does anyone have any questions so far?”

No response.

“Then I’ll continue.” He moved from the podium and plucked a pointer stick from the chalkboard tray. The tip smacked against the map just over Burnet Woods. “He’s using the roundabout in the center of the park for the camp. The report states he may have fewer guards than what we saw last time, which means there may have been some sort of falling out over our offer, but we’ll need to confirm the numbers before we move on it. The scout counted between fifteen and twenty, excluding the Butcher and the women.” He moved to the podium and flipped a few pages further into the stack of papers. “There are two service roads that lead into the park, which they have blocked off with barricades made from partitions similar to some of our own.

“Noticeably absent from the report is an exact count on the women. We’ll need to figure that out, but I want to point out that whoever goes up there should understand that some of these girls may fight—depending on how far gone they are—they might. We’ll see, but it doesn’t appear that they have access to the firearms. However, keep in mind that once we hit their setup, we’ll need to be a little more careful about them. There’s nothing that’s going to prevent them from picking one up if they feel they need to. Be. Careful.

“As far as the Butcher’s concerned, he’s reported to be using the public restroom below the gazebo as his quarters. It’s private and out of the elements. That fancy bastard isn’t going to be walking around where he’s exposed.” He lifted the mug to his lips once more, gulping the rest of the water down. “We’re going to neutralize his guards, get the women to a safe place, and trap him like a rat. And just so there’s no confusion, we don’t need to take him alive, so if the team leader decides to just blow him up, so be it.