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As he waited impatiently in Security Central, Zack Allan hit the link on his wrist, “Sean, this is Zack. Come in.”

He hit the link again, “C&C, this is Sergeant Allan.”

“Corwin here,” came the reply. “What can I do for you?”

“Has Sergeant Flynn linked in yet today?”

“No. But we’ve been having power fluctuations in Grey Sector all morning.”

“Damn,” Allan said to himself.

“Have you tried his quarters yet?”

“Yeah, but he’s not there. Allan out.” He hit his link again to turn it off, and sat down on the chair. “Computer, give me an update of activities last night.”

“Twelve arrests for petty theft, two reported robberies unsolved, one arrest for smuggling contraband, one break in at Evidence Locker, five PPG rifles missing from Weapons Locker—”

“Wait. Detail break in at the Evidence Locker.”

“Virtual Reality Cybernet unit, code 981274, missing from Evidence Locker.”


* * *

Genge and her male associate stood over Flynn’s curled up body in the fake Zocalo.

“C’mon Meridian, we have to get to Allan before it’s too late.”

“But I’ve nearly broken him.”

“Fine. But what do you want from him?”

“To hear him scream.”

“What do you really want?”

“His secrets. Anything that he did that he’s ashamed of.”

“You’ll get nothing from me,” Flynn struggled to say.

“Have Fred inject another 20CCs of nitrogen penthehol into him,” Genge ordered.

“Fine.” The man disappeared again.

“Sean, you can’t hide anything from me. This is your head.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.”

“I came aboard this station in 2259. I’ve known you for more than a year. I know that you have something bottled up inside that Irish head of yours. What is it?”

The scene around the two suddenly shifted from the Zocalo to a city.

“No…” Flynn whispered.

A small group of six, four men and two women, charged toward a building with PPGs blazing. A flash of light suddenly replaced the scene with that of the Zocalo again.

“What was that?” Genge asked. “It looks like I’ve found something a little interesting about you after all, Sean.”

“Go… to… hell,” he forced out from his bloodied mouth.

The man returned into the virtual reality world again. He surprisedly looked at Genge with a large smile on her face, “This is getting better, Bill.”

“The nitrogen penthehol should start having its effects right about… now.”

The scene returned to the city. The six were charging in on a building when one suddenly fell to the ground from a PPG blast. The other five reached the building, where a woman took small grenades out of a satchel she had.

“Where are we?” Genge asked. “Is this a war— Of course, this is Derry.”

In the building, the group of five planted the grenades at different parts of the building. The woman with the satchel started a timer, and they began to run. PPG shots from behind them hit the woman in the right leg and chest, and she fell to the floor. One of the men turned and ran back to her.

Watching from afar, Genge knew who the man was: Flynn. She listened closely to what he was saying.

“Don’t worry Kelly, I’ll get you out of here.”

“Just go Sean. You can’t risk being caught.”

“I won’t leave you.”

“I’m… I’m dying anyway.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Just go.”

One of the other men ran up and grabbed on to Flynn’s shoulder, “She’d dead, Sean. There’s nothing we can do for her.”

The woman called Kelly stopped breathing. Flynn leant over and kissed her on the forehead before running with his comrade.

As they got out the door, a large explosion sent Flynn and his friend tumbling into the air. They landed on their chests, where they were lifted by a group of flak jacketed soldiers. The two were thrown into a jeep and driven away.

Beside Genge, Flynn started crying, “Are you happy now?”

“Actually, no.”

Flynn looked up at her with teary eyes. Apart from the water, they were full of rage. He stood up and walked over to Genge. He clenched his fists until his knuckles began turning white and he took a rough hold of Genge, ready to kill her with his bare hands.

Bill watched what was happening, and saw that the security officer couldn’t bring himself to hit Genge. He grabbed a baseball bat and smashed it over Flynn’s back, sending into a million pieces that disappeared as they hit the black floor.

“You killed us.”

Flynn, mostly unconscious, looked up in pain as Kelly and the man who had been shot outside the building walked up to him.

“Kelly? Seamus?”

“You killed us, Sean.”


“Then why do you blame yourself for their deaths?” Genge asked. “Because it was your fault.”


“But you led the mission into the barracks.”


“So I’m right?”

“Yes. No!”

“Which is it?”

Flynn didn’t answer.

“You got them killed. It was your fault.”


“You’re admitting it was your fault?”

“Yes.” Flynn brushed his hands across his face, and kept them there. Genge heard him sobbing as he remembered that he had got his best friends killed.