Chapter 01 - Crisis of Circumstance Part 2

[mancha_sama]

[ μ ] - εуλ 0001 (December 10th)

The heavy thump of helicopter rotors cut through the high blue of the sky, as far below the ocean skimmed by. The surface glittered like threads of silver, while to the south and east dark lines of land smudged the horizon, and in the distant west flickers of an oceanic squall could be seen. The complement of helicopters was flying in a vague v-shaped formation as they skimmed the coastline, headed east-southeast from Junon where they'd stopped briefly for refueling. Each heavy bellied personnel transporter was full with either rookie SOLDIER 3rds or infantryman. Among those in the lead helicopter was a single SOLDIER 1st class: Zack Fair. He would have been enjoying the ride more if he hadn't been vaguely worried he'd endure his second crash landing in far too soon. Modeoheim was still stark in his mind.

Absently, he tried to pass his hand through his fringe, only to touch bare forehead. He covered his own mishap by smoothing his gloved hand back over the top of his head and ruffled the wild mess of his hair, an easy grin on his face. The SOLDIER 3rd next to him was shaking in his brand new SOLDIER issue boots. Zack reached over and slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, don't worry. We'll be fine so long as our pilot is better than Tseng.” The Third gave a strangled laugh as if he wasn't sure whether he was allowed to find amusement in that or not. Zack got that a lot lately.

“I heard that,” a low voice announced through the crackling of Zack's earpiece, and going by the fact that the visible lower half of the Third's face had paled, so had everyone else.

“Smooth as ever, Zack,” a lighter, feminine voice commented.

Zack gave a quick grin, and cheerfully crowed, “Tseng! Cissnei! I had no idea you were joining us on this little operation. What brings you Turks to the SOLDIER's neck of the woods?”

“The President wants a preliminary report as soon as possible. It will be my job to survey the area and take it back to him,” Tseng replied calmly.

“He's really that eager, huh?” Zack mused, aloud. Inwardly, however, he couldn't help but dryly think that someone just wanted to keep an eye on him. There was no way the Turks would sink to the level of messenger boy without a good reason, no matter who was giving the orders. No answer was forthcoming, and he hadn't been expecting one. It still felt like an acknowledgment, that maybe they knew he knew. It was possible he was just over thinking things again. Everything that had happened with Genesis and Angeal was making him paranoid, making him see conspiracies everywhere.

Zack's eyes drifted to the side and looked past the SOLDIER 3rd to the small window and the horizon beyond. He could make out the vague shape of mountains rising above the rest of their surrounding landscape in the distance. Zack passed his hand over his hair again before his hands found the hilt of his-Angeal’s-Buster Sword and tightened around it with the faint creak of supple leather. He wasn't altogether sure what had driven the change in hair style. Maybe he felt it was finally time to grow up, or maybe he just wanted a reminder, or maybe he just wanted to show off the really cool scar he'd gotten. He had heard all kinds of rumors about the sudden change that had followed his acquisition of the Buster Sword. Zack couldn't say what was true himself; he was too conflicted on too many things.

He fought down the urge to fidget as restless energy sizzled through him. Waiting had never been Zack's strong point, and even being en route was no guarantee of getting him to behave. It was only tough lessons that had brought about some hard-earned control on his part, and even then he was still the same old Zack.

Outside the window, the scenery gave way to a final spit of land before it was nothing but glittery, deep blue ocean for miles in either direction. Zack listened to the static swathed comments shot over the airwaves as the pilots coordinated themselves, and the occasional spate of conversation that would break out among the rookies with him as they tried to soothe their nerves. He offered nothing, merely grinned at the familiar sentiments that echoed some of his own from years gone by.

It was as the sun was making the final leg of its ascent toward the middle of the sky that Tseng spoke up again. “We have fifteen minutes before we reach the Mideel Area. All units prepare for landing and disembarking.”

Zack, unable to contain himself, pumped a fist, though he missed the nearby Third's flinch as he nearly caught the rookie in the ribs. His earpiece gave a faint crack at his joyous whoop, and judging by the winces around him, it had done the same to theirs. Next to him, the Third attempted to edge away as far as the cramped confines would allow without looking like that was what he was doing.

“Finally! I thought we'd never get there. You sure you can set this tin can down alright, Tseng?”

Tseng didn't dignify that with a response. Zack took to watching the approaching shoreline as best he could. He jiggled his leg restlessly, and tightened his fingers on the red wrapped hilt of the Buster Sword again. He listened to the radio chatter more intently, carefully following the thread of conversation as they coordinated the landing. To all sides a mixture of grass and dirt spread out in a relatively flat plain while a thick tangle of forests and cliffs darkened the horizon lines in almost every direction.

In a second, Zack had his harness unstrapped and had shimmied closer to the door as the helicopter came in low and evened out in preparation to land. With a fluid movement, he settled his Buster Sword on his back, then keyed the door open before anyone could protest. He turned his head enough to grin over his shoulder as wind and sound howled into the cabin and whipped his shaggy black hair into a frenzy. Zack lifted his free hand to his forehead in a jaunty salute. Over the noise, he yelled, “I'll go secure the perimeter. Try not to kill my troops!” With a final wink, he jumped.

As air rushed up to meet him, Zack spread his arms as if to welcome it and the spike of adrenaline it drilled through his system. The black fabric of his fatigues was plastered to the front of his body, the wind tearing over his bare arms, and it probably should have hurt but he couldn't feel a thing besides the thrill. It was a matter of timing, knowing what his body could handle, and how he could handle it.

At the right moment he twisted, swung his legs forward and hit the ground at a speed that would probably have shattered the legs on a normal human being. He used his momentum to keep moving forward, tucked, rolled, and came back to his feet with one gloved hand braced on the dirt and the other gripping the hilt of the Buster Sword. Dirt swirled around him, kicked up from his landing and the rotors of the choppers as they came in lower. Zack propelled himself forward in a crouched sprint to get clear of the landing zone before he turned around, danced back a few more steps, then lifted a hand to shield his eyes.

He made a show of looking around the area. As expected, there wasn't a monster or insurgent out to attack them for miles. Lifting both arms, Zack waved to the helicopters and jogged backwards even further to watch them set down. Dust and bits of plant matter swirled through the air in a choking cloud, though not enough to obscure the gleaming metal of the machines.

With low, mechanic churning sounds the doors on the choppers were thrust open and his troops began to disembark. Infantrymen with rifles slung over their shoulders scuttled out from under the still spinning rotors with light cases, and rookie SOLDIER 3rds followed with larger supply crates. They hadn't brought much with them, but it was enough to be self sufficient during the time designated for the mission.

Over the heavy tread of standard issue boots, the rotors of the helicopters began to whine as they picked up speed again and all but one took to the air. They'd be back in around a week to pick them up again if things went well. The mission wasn't one that they were expecting to give them trouble, a fact that made Zack think he ought to be worried. He shrugged it off as a burgeoning sense of paranoia, and turned to grin as Tseng and Cissnei approached from the lone helicopter that had remained on the ground and was now shut down and quiet.

Tseng regarded him with cool dark eyes before he simply said, “Is the perimeter secure?”

Zack never knew whether or not Tseng was joking when he said stuff like that with such a straight face, but his inherent optimism preferred to believe that, yes, Tseng had a sense of humor. Zack cracked a grin in response, arms swinging loosely at his side. “All safe and secure as far as I can see.” He switched his bright gaze to Cissnei and cheerfully asked, “So what do you think?”

Cissnei gave that little thoughtful hum of hers, then looked at Tseng. “Next time, we should let Rude and Reno deal with him.”

Tseng gave a low, quiet chuckle and began to walk away with a gesture for Cissnei to follow. Zack, left slightly speechless, found his tongue in time to call ineffectively after them, “Wha-? Hey!” Zack subsided back onto his heels with a slight laugh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “There's no dealing with Turks....” he muttered to himself.

“Don't you have something you need to do? I'll join you after I have a word with Cissnei,” Tseng called over his shoulder, and it was only then that Zack realized he'd been heard. He manfully resisted making a face at Tseng's back while he watched the two Turks carefully place themselves out of hearing range, then turned on his heel to observe the loitering troops.

As if they were personally attuned to the gaze of a commanding officer-maybe they were-the red scarf wearing officers immediately gave a bark of command that sent the troopers scuttling to line up and come to attention. Just the way ShinRa liked it, he supposed. The rookie SOLDIERS were a little slower on the get go, probably still high off their new ranks, but they too fell in line. It was still a little odd to be deferred to like this, but he was getting used to it. Zack clapped his hands and gave a sharp nod, more to himself than anything.

“I've already briefed you on why we're here. This isn't supposed to be a tough mission, but don't get careless. One mistake could end up with you or one of your comrades hurt or killed. Watch your backs out there, and watch the backs of your comrades.”

A chorus of 'Sir's' was the only response Zack got as he looked over them, faintly troubled by the fact that he was in charge of this many lives for the first time in his career. It had always been Angeal looking after him, but now that was no longer possible. It was his turn to step up, but was he ready for it? He'd never been one to doubt himself in the past but now he was starting to wonder.... He hadn't been able to save Angeal.

“Alright, let's get moving. Scout teams two and four, I want you to head south west. Scout teams one and three head south east. The rest of you spread out and proceed due south in parties. If you find any monsters take them out. We don't want anything nasty at our backs!”

The reaction was immediate, and the thud of military boots on the dirt soon filled the air alongside shouts of command as they got ordered and began to mobilize. Zack stood still among it all, watching and wondering. He was about to follow after the main detachment of troops when his phone beeped to signal a new mail. He paused, one foot extended mid step, then relaxed back into a stationary position. He fumbled his phone out and flipped it open with hardly a glance at the sleek if not slightly scuffed black casing, then thumbed open his mail folder's Inbox. Zack wasn't terribly surprised to see it was from Kunsel.

I heard you're on your first mission as a big time CO?
At least it's just checking out some reports of a new mako spring and some monster elimination, right?
Don't worry, we all know you'll do fine, Zack.
Just remember to use your brain instead of your sword for the thinking.

The last line surprised a laugh out of Zack even as he glanced over another mail that had arrived. This one proved to be from Luxiere, praising him for his speech to the rookies. He snorted faintly; all he'd done was parrot the words Angeal had drilled into him. Pride, dreams, and honor... Right. Zack closed his phone with a snap and tucked it away. He couldn't help but wonder what those things meant to him now, in a world where your comrades could be fighting at your side one moment, and then you'd be forced to kill them the next. As always, he shoved the lingering doubts away and lifted his head to gaze after his troops. If nothing else he had a duty to make sure they all got back safe and sound, so he'd focus on that goal for now.

“Zack,” Tseng's solemn voice spoke up from over his shoulder. Zack glanced back at him, neither surprised or bothered by the Turk's quiet arrival. Tseng might be a Turk, but he was also a friend.

“Yeah, Tseng?” he asked curiously. The Turk's passive expression gave nothing away.

“There seems to be a problem.”

“Huh?” Zack turned just in time to see Tseng flick the smallest of glances back toward the helicopter. When he looked, Zack discovered a few infantrymen and a couple of SOLDIER 3rds clustered around a fourth trooper who was sitting in the dirt, his helmeted head in his hands. “I'll take care of it, hold on.” Tseng gave a sparse nod, and Zack strode toward the little group. He waved at Cissnei as he passed her, though she gave no indication of noticing, then came to a halt beside one of the SOLDIER 3rds. “Is something wrong with him?”

“Apparently he's airsick, sir.”

One of the troopers stood up from where he'd been talking to his buddy and turned to face Zack. “It's nothing unusual. It seems he gets motion sick, but he'll be fine in awhile, sir. Always is.”

Zack stepped around the trooper and crouched down beside the sick man, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and said, “Hey, take all the time you need.” All he got in response was a half hearted groan, that he couldn't help but think sounded familiar. Giving a faint laugh, Zack gave the trooper's shoulder a squeeze before he stood. “You lot stay here with him, and catch up once he's feeling better. I don't want you to push him or yourselves; it could end in disaster, so take your time. The trail should be easy enough to follow.”

“Sir!”

Another groan, one that sounded faintly like agreement came from the miserable trooper. That was good enough for Zack. “Get his helmet off him so he can breathe,” he said breezily as he returned to Tseng's side. “Ready to go then?” To Zack's disappointment, if Tseng was bothered by the fact that he was being forced to trek through the countryside again he didn't show it. Tseng gestured for him to proceed him, and Zack strode off after the retreating backs of his troops.

An uneasy feeling nagged at him, as if something very wrong was going to happen. As Zack crested a low hillock, he paused to look in the direction he recalled Banora being. Zack tried to push the unease aside as a result of bad memories, but he'd never been one to ignore his gut instinct and didn't really want to start now.

“Is something the matter?” Tseng asked as he came up alongside him. Zack had no idea if he actually cared, or was just asking because it was expected. Turks were hard to read when they were relaxed, let alone while on the job. For a moment, Zack considered telling Tseng that he had a bad feeling, but the moment passed as quickly as it came.

“Nah, just admiring the scenery.”

Tseng gave a noncommittal hum, then remarked, “You should admire it a little more closely then.”

“What?”

Tseng didn't need to answer, because Zack found out swiftly enough when he had to skip back to keep an green colored, sickle shaped claw from taking out his kneecap. The insect like monster skittered after him, and propelled itself into the air to take another swipe. Zack yanked the Buster Sword off his back and smacked it aside with the flat of the huge blade. Beside him, Tseng pulled his pistol and, as calmly as if he were skeet shooting rather than gunning a monster out of the air, the Turk fired off a single shot. The Head Hunter hit the ground, already dead, and curled into itself with a crackle of its exoskeleton. Zack flicked it casually out of the way with Buster Sword's tip then set off again.

Zack's heavier footfalls nearly covered Tseng's quiet tread as they continued onward, picking their way between gathering scrub and rock. The sounds of occasional gunfire and shouts floated to them. Monster encounters were few and far between for the pair, whether because the rookies were enjoying their freedom a little too much, or because they'd fled the area from all the racket was hard to tell.

The terrain faded into patchy areas of grass as they followed a slight incline alongside a shadowed cliff. It was mid-afternoon when Zack stopped to use the edge of a rock to scrape bug guts off his boot while he waited for Tseng to catch up. A trooper came running toward him, pulled up, and saluted. Zack waved at him to hold on without even bothering to look up. In fact he went so far as to reach down, grasp his ankle, and haul his foot up. He leaned forward, balancing, and tried to peer at the bottom of his boot. Zack wrinkled his nose at the bits of slime and gunk still caught in the grooves and let go. Once he straightened, he turned toward the trooper. Something about the man's posture seemed to radiate incredulity, but Zack just gave him a grin. “Was there something you needed?”

“Uh, Sir!” he snapped, coming to attention again. “We've found the spring.”

Zack perked up. “Good job. Where is it?”

The trooper pointed, and Zack gazed off in that direction as if he could see it. “It's about two miles southwest along the cliff. There's a little wood down that way, and it's in there, nestled right up against the cliff face, sir. You can't miss it.”

“Hear that, Tseng?” Zack called as he noticed the Turk finally catching up. “We're almost there!”

Although Tseng wasn't visibly ruffled in any way, Zack liked to think he could detect some discomfort in him as he said, “So I heard.”

“You need a break first?” Zack wheedled.

“It would be best,” Tseng opined as he continued on, walking past Zack and the trooper, “if we arrive as quickly as possible so I can report back to the President.”

Zack followed after him, rocks crunching under his boots as he picked his way among them with ease. “You just want to get back to Midgar, and out of the boonies. I always thought you Turks were tougher.” Behind him, the infantryman followed in uncomfortable silence. Zack wondered if he was worried the infamous Turk would decide to take him out for his cheek. Blithely, Zack carried on, eyes locked on the back of Tseng's head in the hopes of some sort of reaction, “You need to get out more, Tseng. Take a hike, go camping, something...”

“Camping. In the monster infested wilderness,” Tseng responded dryly, his pace never wavering. Zack braced a gloved hand on a rock, and scrambled up the pile to walk along the jagged ridge they provided.

“Sure,” Zack said. He spread his arms slightly to keep his balance as he put one foot before the other like he was walking a balance beam. “Builds character.”

“And this is something they subscribed to in your hometown?” Tseng asked, finally deigning to give Zack his attention when the SOLDIER jumped from the rocks to land a few feet in front of him, Buster Sword in hand. Zack neatly bludgeoned another green bug into a spatter against the cliff face, and shook the resulting muck off.

“Absolutely,” Zack replied cheerfully, even as he twirled Buster Sword over his head in a brief victory pose and put it back in place on his back. He turned to face Tseng, and propped his fists on his narrow hips. “Look how I turned out!”

Tseng stared at him for several long seconds, then murmured, “... I believe that's more of a warning against the practice than a compliment to it.” Beyond the Turk, the lone trooper that had been gamely trooping after them seemed to be at a loss even through the helmet he wore.

Zack took pity on the poor guy, and, deciding Tseng didn't require a response, dragged him into the conversation. “What do you think?”

The trooper startled, helmet glancing to either side briefly. “Uh, about what, sir?”

“Camping! Nature!” Zack enthused, arms lifting in a quick gesture of emphasis that took in their surroundings.

The trooper straightened up as if suddenly losing his bafflement. Zack kind of felt bad as he realized he might be putting the guy on the spot, but it was kind of amusing watching him sweat it out like his attempt to involve him in the conversation was a life or death, career deciding test. “It's part of army life, sir! I mean, uh,” he stuttered, then more calmly, as if afraid he'd be reprimanded for asking, added, “Did they really do that in your hometown? Send you out to the monsters, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zack said, face carefully modulated into a serious expression. “When I was being particularly bad my parents would toss me out with nothing more than a rock and a crust of bread.”

Zack had to turn and continue on to keep from laughing when the trooper gaped at him in surprise. “No wonder you got into SOLDIER, sir. If you were able to survive out there with just a rock for a weapon, I mean!”

“Nah, I ate the rock and used the bread for a weapon!”

“That, uh, doesn't sound healthy, sir,” the trooper opined carefully.

He couldn't keep a straight face any longer, it just wasn't possible. Tseng walked past him with a little sigh, after Zack stalled out on the path from his laughter. Zack turned and grinned at the infantryman. “You're alright.”

“Uh, thank you, sir,” the trooper said. It sounded as if he wasn't sure if he ought to be thankful or not.

Onward the three walked in silence, Tseng in the lead. Apparently the Turk had caught a second wind. Zack's pace was far more leisurely than either of them. He soon grew bored of moving so slow, overtook Tseng, and continued on ahead. After skirting an eighty degree grade of scree, Zack found himself confronted by a small tuft of tough little wildflowers with tiny purple petals. They were situated in such a way that they got the most sun in the day that they could.

Zack couldn't help but crouch down for a closer look, and his mind superimposed the image of Aerith happily cradling the blossoms of her small church garden momentarily over the scenery. He didn't reach out and touch. Aerith had scolded him often enough about his inability to properly handle the delicate little things that he was a bit wary of it. Zack couldn't help but think that Aerith would like these hardy blossoms. They were a lot like the ones she babied in Midgar which seemed to embody the people of the slums; tough, but hiding something that was worth paying attention to.

The faint scuff of a boot sole on rock alerted him to his company catching up again, and Zack pushed himself upright. “Just there,” the trooper was saying. He pointed down the hill before them which consisted mostly of rock falls, scree, and shale. Near the base, a tattered row of trees eventually thickened into a small forest, longer than it was wide. Zack could see a splotch of blue loitering on the edge of the trees. “Sparo's waiting for us, see.” He lifted his hand and waved. The trooper by the trees returned the gesture.

Zack sent a look toward Tseng, who was standing as nonchalantly as possible with one hand braced against the sheer cliff face beside him. “And just think, once you have a look around you can hike back and get out of here, Tseng!” He thought he got a glare for that one, but it was there and gone so quick it might have just been a trick of the light. Their trooper 'guide' started down the decline, sliding and slipping on the loose rock as he went. He was obviously trying to keep his gun from being jostled and keep his balance at the same time; it was an interesting process to watch.

Tseng started down next, and Zack was even more amused to watch the Turk pick his way among the rock in his nicely polished shoes. With a final glance back at the flowers, Zack made a silent promise. If he had time before they went back to Midgar, he'd stop here again and dig one of the plants up to take back to Aerith. Then he too started down the slope.

His boots slipped over loose gravel until his ears were filled with the scrape, slither, and clatter of moving rock. Zack leaned back in an attempt to keep his center of gravity from going completely AWOL until he was about five feet from the bottom. With what he considered to a philosophical shrug, he slid the rest of the way down, nearly toppled from the weight of Buster Sword and his own momentum, and stumbled onto even ground again amongst a veritable miniature landslide.

They covered the rest of the distance in a matter of minutes, and were greeted by a vivid white smile against dark skin, and a cheerful, “Welcome back, Jac! I see you managed to find the CO without getting too lost.”

“I didn't get lost,” their guide, apparently named Jac, muttered sulkily. “Just because you have an uncanny sense of direction and can navigate your way anywhere without so much as a map doesn't mean we're all freaks of nature, Sparo.”

“You found the spring?” Zack broke in, and was immediately graced with a salute from Sparo, as if the trooper was just noticing the SOLDIER 1st was there.

“Yessir! It's back that way in the forest, and if I do say so myself it doesn't look good, sir.”

Zack was instantly on alert, and if the quiet, listening sort of vacuum that seemed to gape open at his side where Tseng stood was anything to go by, so was the Turk. “What do you mean?” Tseng asked, voice low.

“Well....” Sparo said, rocking on his heels. He turned to look back into the forest, then seemed to come to a conclusion. “I think you ought to come and see for yourself, sir. It's fairly obvious.”

Sparo turned and lead the way into the woods with the other three following. As they walked, Zack could feel the hair on the back of his neck and along his arms prickling. The woods were dead silent. Not a single bird sung out, not a single animal rustled through the undergrowth or the tree branches, and he had the creeping feeling that he was being watched. It made his skin crawl uncomfortably, and Zack found himself reflexively gripping the hilt of his Buster Sword as they crept through the undergrowth.

Tseng was a silent shadow a few paces behind him. The two troopers seemed to have lost any of the buoyant attitude they had displayed before. He slowed his breathing until it was the merest of whispers through his nose, and strained to hear anything in the silence. Zack knew from growing up in Gongaga that a quiet forest usually meant the presence of a threat that had scared everything into hiding. It was possible that they were just hiding from the troops, but there was also the very real possibility of something else in the area causing them to flee. Zack had just opened his mouth to ask Jac and Sparo if they'd swept the area for monsters, when, with a sound like a gunshot in the quiet, a twig cracked somewhere ahead of them. The troopers immediately brought their rifles up.

Zack held his hand up to hold them off and edged forward. The last thing they needed was a friendly fire incident because they'd all gotten too hyped up from the atmosphere. He shoved aside a tangle of vegetation and continued forward. Each step he took was carefully placed with all the silent premeditated ease of a stalking wolf. Then, through the brush came another sound. Zack held his hand up to signal his companions to freeze, and listened.

“What if there are mako crazed monsters out here?” a voice floated to them, accompanied by the slightest jangle and the scuff of a boot. Another twig snapped. Zack felt all the tension drain out of his shoulders and began to shove his way through the brush with less stealth.

“Don't be an idiot. If there were mako crazed monsters they'd have sent a First or some Seconds. Not a bunch of troopers and rookies like us,” another voice replied to the first.

“But they did send a First. I was sitting next to him on the way.”

“...Really? What was he like?”

Ahead of him Zack could see the blue uniforms of two rookie SOLDIER 3rds loitering in a relatively open area. Behind them the sheer rock wall of the cliff loomed. Zack whistled slightly as he meandered out into the clearing himself. The cliff was split jaggedly by a vertical fissure, from which glowing green mako flowed like some sort of fountain. It looked like the ground itself had been scored with a gaping wound. At the base of the cliff it had formed a pool from which a luminescent aurora wavered upward and colored the air with an eerie sheen. He barely noticed the two Thirds jumping to startled attention at his presence.

“Hmm.”

Zack tore his gaze away from the natural beauty of the spring, in favor of looking toward Tseng who was kneeling in the grass to the left of the main pool. The Turk was keeping a careful distance. “That didn't sound like a good hmm,” he noted.

“It's not,” Tseng murmured as he stood. He brushed grass from his knee with a few economical swipes of his hand, then turned to spear Zack with a dark eyed, serious look. “This wasn't a natural mako pool.”

Behind him, Zack heard someone mutter that it sure looked natural to them. Zack thought it looked pretty natural too, but he walked over to join Tseng and see what he'd seen. What Zack found made his nerves stand on end again. “Oh yeah, that's not good,” he muttered, low enough not to be heard.

The troopers and Thirds shifted nervously in the ensuing quiet. Zack squatted down and peered down at the clear mountain stream that was meandering off further southwest, creating a series of little pools and waterfalls as it went. Even as he watched some of the thick mako slid over the surface of the water and was carried downstream. It was obvious that the pool had once been the headwaters for this stream, still was to a degree, but now it was tainted with mako. If he had to guess, Zack would bet that there had been an earthquake in the area that had cracked the cliff open like an egg. From there...he looked back to the oozing waterfall of mako. The walls of the crack through which it flowed already had some small crystal formations beginning, as did the edges of the pool. He couldn't help but wonder how long this had been here.

That uneasy feeling was back again.

Zack settled back on his heels. “Hey, you two,” he called, gesturing to the rookie SOLDIERs.

“Gibbs Richards, sir,” one of them said. “And he's Edge Mueller.”

Zack nodded absently. “Where's the rest of your team?”

“They went off to scout the area further, sir,” Edge said carefully. “Should we go look for them?”

“No,” Zack said. “It would be best if you stayed here.”

“Sir?” There was a wariness to Gibbs’ tone. Zack stood at last and turned to them with an easy grin.

“I'm going to start calling the rest of the company here so we can do a proper sweep of the area, so there's no need.” Except for the fact that they might already be dead if there really were mako mad monsters in the area. He hoped that the water had diluted the run off mako enough to keep them from ingesting an amount that would have an effect, but he wasn't willing to stake anymore lives on it. After he'd sent out the call for the troops to gather, he'd go look for them himself.

-

The sky had darkened with the onset of twilight until it was a faded mass of pinks, purples, and bruised blacks and blues. Zack couldn't help but feel jittery. His check of the area hadn't turned up either of the two missing troopers, nor had any of the incoming teams seen them. Tseng had left shortly after he'd seen Zack had things well in hand, and Zack could only hope that his report would bring some sort of resolution to the steadily growing mess.

With the green glow of the mako around him, the clearing was well lit even with the fading daylight. Those troops that he hadn't sent back out in reinforced groups to watch the edges of the forest or to scout, lingered around the clearing, clearly at a loss. Zack, for his part, had set aside Buster Sword and decided to burn off energy by partaking in his favorite exercise routine and left most of the menial running of things to the lower ranked officers. His mind was more focused on the probability that this mission had gone from simple and easy, to possibly life threatening.

“Sir!”

Zack did a few more squats, then stood and stretched his arms out. The trooper that had approached him was carrying another helmet in his hands, and Zack felt a trill of unease skate down his spine. “What did you find?”

The trooper pressed his lips together, looking pale. “It was found up a tree, sir. We found a rifle stuck in another.”

If Zack had been prone to it, he would have started swearing. “Alright, where did you-” He was interrupted by a shout off to the side, and looked up to see another group joining the clearing. One of the troopers was lagging behind his buddies. Zack couldn't help but think that, with his hunched shoulders and bowed head, he looked rather miserable. It took only a second to make the connection with the group that had been left behind at the landing zone. He dismissed them from his mind for the moment, but as he was turning back to the trooper he'd been speaking to, movement and a flash of color caught his attention.

Zack jerked back around just in time to see the small group skirting the mako pool, and a hippogriff, eyes wide and mako bright in its vividly feathered face, come tearing out of the shadowy forest with a shriek.

“Whoa-Watch out!” Zack yelled, already taking a half step toward the little group. The rest threw themselves out of the way, but the sick trooper, still obviously not feeling well, reacted too slow. Zack could only watch as the hippogriff collided with him and sent him careening to the edge of the pool. The trooper brought his rifle up as the monster grasped for him with its talons, and squeezed the trigger. The beast screamed in pain and backed off with harsh flaps of its dark wings that overbalanced the trooper.

By the time Zack crossed the clearing, the trooper had already disappeared under the surface of the glowing mako.

Next time on Counter Crisis it's a Crisis of Confusion!

Part One
Masterlist