A writing thing I've been working on. It's a sort of science-fiction story, with a lot of fantasy added.... You'll see later. Note this is part 2, part 1 was really short, and I only have an extremely rough draft. You're not missing much.
Winry ran into the room, followed by an only slightly-more composed Shael. The man at the computer continued clacking away at his keyboard for a few more seconds, giving the other two a moment to compose themselves. With a decisive final jab at the keys, Jackson turned around to face them, as the map on the computer began moving.
“We have possible enemy contact at the University” announced Jackson.
“Are we sure it’s him?” said Shael quietly.
“Almost”. Jackson turned back to his computer and punched a few keys. By now, the map had oriented itself on the University. A small, blinking red x stood out from the black and blue. Jackson pointed at it. “A security guard was found dead here, K-level, approximately 15 minutes ago. Two minutes later, a security camera on L-level caught this…” He tapped another key, and a small window in the corner grew. It showed a man walking down the hall. Jackson rewound it to the clearest frame. The man’s form was stooped, and he wore rough woolen clothes. His hair was mangy and unkempt; a think mat of stubble coated his face, framing his wild eyes. All told, his appearance resembled that of a drug addict. “We are almost positive it’s the missing Howler, but we don’t have a good enough image to run a face search”.
Shael leaned on Jackson’s console, peering into the face with his colorless eyes.
“It’s him”. Shael stood up. “It’s him” he repeated, quieter. Winry watched the tall, thin man’s hand twitch, as if he were grabbing something. The hand clenched into a fist, then open back up in recoil. A single drop of blood fell from his palm onto the floor.
Shael whipped around and stormed out of the room, his long white cloak billowing behind him. Jackson watched him go; staring at the doorway, then looked over at Winry.
“His emotions are getting the best of him…” He said softly. Winry met his gaze with her brilliant amethyst eyes.
“He’s lost so much…”
“I know, but if he does something rash… you’d better get ready. Time is wasting.”
Shael already had his body armor on by the time Winry arrived in the equipment locker room. . He glanced up at her as she walked in, and then looked back down at the weapons rack. Winry stood framed in the doorway for a second. She shook her head in disgust. They couldn’t afford to waste anymore time.
She slipped off her loose robe, leaving her jet-black under suit on. She then put her own set of armor over it. The set was composed of a vest, upper and lower arms, and leggings, all made out of StopWeave, an advanced form of Kevlar. Winry heard the snap-click as Shael loaded a round into the chamber of his APS-76 sidearm. Neither of them made another move for a moment. Winry opened her mouth to say something, but Shael cut her off.
“Why, dammit…” Winry looked sideways at him as she put on her headset. He was shaking badly. Winry was speechless. Shael, crying? She stood up and put a hand on his shoulder. His shudders grew more violent, then died down. Winry held on for a few more seconds. Seeing he was fine for the moment, she reached into the locker, and loaded and holstered her own APS-76.
“I’m gonna kill him… I’m gonna make him pay… end this…”. He gulped and sat down on the bench, cradling his head in his hands. Winry could do nothing but stare into the locker, fiddling absently with her purple gloves. She was scared. Ever since she had met him, Shael had always been the calm and collected one. Now…
Shael took several deep breathes, as if clearing his head. Everything got quiet again. Winry did a final check of her equipment. They stood there for a second. After what seemed like a long time, Shael looked up, a steely glint in his eyes. “I’m gonna be OK” He said to Winry, trying to reassure her, but not meeting her eyes. He stood back up and reached into the locker. He pulled out a sword.
It looked like no ordinary sword. Its wicked blade gleamed crimson. The handle was wrapped in rags. Shael’s face reflected grimly off its shining blade. Without another word, he sheathed it, attached it to his belt, and stepped through a small metal door to the helipad, into the hot, muggy night. Winry was right behind him, shaken, but feeling a little better.
Two men in black uniforms stood in the hallway adjacent to the equipment room. They stood there as Shael and Winry exited to the helipad. One, older of the two, had a number of medals pinned to his chest.
“This is what you get for having children fight a war”.
His fellow was silent for a moment.
“They’re all we have”.
