Chapter 44: Unknown Intentions

Sunlight grazed upon the warehouse’s rooftop and shone on George’s solemn face. His wrinkled long coat drifted along the cold western breeze, easing the tension from his heart.

A small figure stood beside him, their countenance no better.

“They haven’t returned?” George asked.

“No, Georgie,” Kurt replied, “Savannah kept watch for three days now. She got no signs of them. Ever.”

“Someone must have gotten to them,” George clenched his fists. “Did Andrew investigate the warlord?”

“The fortress was busy lately,” Kurt responded, “Andrew spotted them moving southwest.”

George paused.

“There’s only the bank over there,” he said after a while, “What made it interesting to him?”

A flash of realization came into him. “Was it the soldiers?!”

Kurt remained silent.

“Get Andrew,” George ordered, “Tell him we’re going on a short trip.”

“What about Clyde and Kimmy?” Kurt looked at George worriedly.

“They can handle themselves,” George snorted, “To fail a simple surveillance—” he spit, “What use are they to me?”

Kurt shuddered and backed away. “I will go get Andrew now.”

“Don’t delay. I have no time to spare today.”

George’s eyes turned to the west. An unnatural sensation stirred within him. As his eyes zoomed in—

Light breathing escaped from a scout’s mouth as he held the binoculars pointed toward the bank. His right foot slowly tapped, chiming with the ticking of a nearby clock.

“Ethan, you see this?” he spoke through the comms while pinging a marker.

“Copy, Hopkins,” the voice replied, calm and steady, “Re-aligning.”

Centered on the scope were rotting limbs lay scattered near the southwestern bank’s entrance. A group of people strode into view, crushing the flesh with their bare feet.

With their backs faced, the group went deeper into the bank. A few remained outside, cautiously guarding the area.

“Done with the cleaning?” Hopkins muttered, “Took them three days. I bet you they will go into that vault now.”

“Should I open fire?” Ethan suggested, smoothly placing his finger on the Barrett’s trigger. “We risk these people knowing the Commander’s plans.”

“Commander ordered surveillance only,” Hopkins argued. “Focus on their movement. We don’t want to miss anything.”

To him, whether the Warlord knew of their intentions or not, it was the Commander who would worry about it.

“Lost visual on the target,” Ethan adjusted his rifle. “Hold up, I sense another party.”

“Direction?”

“Two o’clock.”

Hopkins shifted his binoculars, only to be met with a blocked view of a building.

“Bah, what bad luck. Spot’s obstructed,” he stood up and went upstairs, “Lock on them while I reposition.”

Ethan didn’t respond, zooming out as he followed the suspicious party—two of them.

Blonde hair, tall guy. This must be George. he recalled while maintaining vision, The other one’s a miss. That girl must be interrogated again.

The pair dashed through the rooftops, landing each leap with ease. As they neared the bank, the warlord’s forces noticed them.

Indistinct shouting reverberated across the empty streets, flaring up an even larger commotion. Nearby zombies were attracted, skillfully taken down by a black-haired woman holding a bladed weapon.

“Classy, but dangerous,” Hopkins’s voice finally came through. “I remember this girl. Dmitri fought once with her. What do you think?”

“No different from those corpses,” Ethan declared. “She is fast—I do give her that.”

“A lady killer, are you?” Hopkins shook his head. “Oh, confrontation on its way. The warlord and his forces don’t look too happy about this.”

The large group advanced boldly, surrounding the pair of newcomers. The latter seemed unafraid, their mouths yapping inaudibly from afar.

At that moment, something changed.

“Warlord forces backing down,” Ethan frowned. “What could that guy be talking about?”

“About the bank, or us,” Hopkins clicked his tongue. “Best if they conclude this early.”

The sun slowly peaked in the sky. Hopkins remained still, broken out of focus as sweat rolled down his reddish face.

“Parties disengaging,” Ethan said, “No conflicts, discussion only.”

“That’s enough,” Hopkins spoke after a moment, “Pull back. We’ve seen what we need.”

The pair moved along the silent alleyways, treading their way back to base.

The apartment complex wasn’t tranquil either.

From the Commander’s Room, Hans coldly watched as the survivors moved from the first apartment building to the second.

The sudden relocation surprised everyone but Hans, recalling the upbeat Engineer who tended to over-explain things.

Tomasz is a pure miracle from the system,

he complimented.

The so-called results weren’t only limited to the office building, but to the apartments as well.

Electricity connections. Water pumps. Even destroyed electronics and parts—Tomasz repaired them all.

The second apartment building soon had stable power and amenities, giving Hans the initiative to push the survivors out of his army’s private area.

He turned around, “How’s the relocation going?”, asking.

“The survivors are unhappy.” Dmitri answered blandly.

“Let them be,” Hans sniggered, “Their emotions will get better soon. Have you contacted the squad leaders?”

“Yes,” Dmitri nodded, “They are already on the way.”

From his chest was a letter, putting it on the table.

“Ethan and Hopkins has recently returned. They brought an alarming information.”

“About what?” Hans furrowed his brows.

“The Warlord and the Survivor group.”

The room briefly paused—the silence interrupted by the thudding of boots outside.

“Gather them all first.”

All the squad leaders entered, taking their respective places within the rectangular table that Hans repurposed from the first floor.

“Thank you for taking the time to come here,” Hans presided, “This meeting will focus on our next operation, the northern bank. Before we proceed, however, Dmitri has an alarming report to us.”

He glanced over at Dmitri, to which the latter responded.

“The southwestern bank has been cleared by the warlord’s forces, their strengths increasing as we speak.” he started, “Based on our captive’s clues, as these superhumans eliminate zombies, their power grows as well.”

A squad leader raised their hand, “Why were they not shot down?”

“Reports stated the warlord’s intent to investigate our presence in the bank.” Dmitri added, “Surveillance orders were prioritized. Commander’s call.”

Hans leaned forward on the table, hands supporting his jaw.

“If we let the Warlord move, then we learn everything from his actions.”

The squad leaders retreated. Nobody questioned the engagement rules anymore.

Seeing their questions answered, Dmitri raised the letter from before, “Three days later, we have this,” passing it to the squad leader next to him.

“The warehouse group’s leader, George, was spotted roaming the bank’s premises. A confrontation with the warlord ensued, but no conflict arose.”

“They disengaged peacefully?” a voice asked.

“The scout described it as: leaving on good terms.” Dmitri corrected.

The squad leaders frowned, their mouths tightly shut.

Hans took a deep breath and interjected.

“Whatever George’s intentions are, it will not do good for us.”

“Commander, the warlord may intercept our next bank operation” Jenkins suggested. “I suggest we strike him first.”

“That is not out of the question,” Hans nodded, stealing a glance of the Radar map. “But we must be cautious on approach. The warlord has civilians on their turf.”

“We lure him away, Commander,” another squad leader proposed. “Strike the northern bank, and ambush him if he approaches.”

Other squad leaders shook their heads.

“What if he attacks our base?” Jenkins disagreed.

“That will not be an issue. He has investigated the bank,” Hans intervened. “The Warlord may think he understood our playbook—that we will choose to strike the northern bank next. He is right, but also wrong at the same time.”

“His obsession with guns and our deliberate presence will force him into action. What opportunity is better for him—flanking us as we assault the next bank?”

The room was embraced in silence, waiting for the Commander to continue.

“Push through with the operation. Make visible movements around the urban fringe. We will force the Warlord into action,” Hans ordered. “The Radar will track his movement. Once he does, that will be our opportunity to eliminate his threat.”

The squad leaders nodded, understanding the implication behind Hans’s words.

“I will leave the specific execution to everyone. Any questions?”

“What about George’s group, Commander?” asked a squad leader.

“We’ll know when the time comes,” Hans smiled. “If he approaches, cripple him. If he remains observant, leave him alone.”

He mused of George’s inaction during the last few days. Should the man have an ounce of companionship, they would have scoured the urban fringe and made way into the apartment complex.

He is an opportunistic bastard. It will be tricky to handle him.

Kimmy’s figure struck him; I should visit her again. Her superhuman power could prove vital to my army.

He scanned the room.

“Since no more questions are asked, I shall step out of the briefing now. Dmitri, take over.”

Hans stepped out of the Commander’s room and strolled on the seventh floor’s corridor, making his way downstairs.

On the fifth floor, pairs of Conscripts guarded three sets of doors. Hans approached one of them.

“Commander! The prisoner was looking for you.” the two Conscripts snapped.

“Very endearing of her,” Hans lips formed into an ambiguous smile.

The guards moved aside—the other reaching in to open for him.

“You have come,” Kimmy’s voice reached his ears. “I have been waiting for you.”

“I am very flattered.” Hans grabbed a wooden chair, the firm legs scraping across the tiles.

Kimmy gripped the hem of her clothes, pursing her lips as she hesitated.

“I… I have come to a decision.”

Hans’s brows raised, “And that is?”

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