Chapter 7 -"Try to keep up, old man."

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"Sarge."

Carter rolled over in her bed and faced the door, wincing at the light. Her father was outlined in the door frame, light from the hallway slipping into her room. She moaned and rolled away. Her father walked in and gently shook her shoulder.

"Sarge," he said.

Carter shrugged off his arm, burying half her face in her pillow.

"Don't you know you're suppose to knock before coming in," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "That way I have enough time to kick the Marine out of my bed, so he can be half dressed and out the window by the time you catch him."

"Why do you think I didn't knock?" her father said.

Carter twisted her head to look blearily at him.

"So you're saying kick him out of my bed in the middle of the night. Got it." She turned away, resting her head back on her pillow. "Now, what do you want, old man? I thought we were celebrating your homecoming by sleeping in."

Her father glanced at the clock.

"We did," he said. "It's six-thirty."

"I've changed my mind," she said. "I'm not happy you're home."

"Understood. Now get up, we're going running."

She pulled the blankets tight around her chin.

"Have fun. Let me know when you get back. We can hang out or something."

Her father yanked the blankets off her. A chill swept over Carter and she curled into a ball. Her father reached out and took one of her arms. On reflex, she shot her leg out, but hit only air. She brought her free arm around, her hand curling into a fist as she swung at her father's face. He easily blocked the blow and hauled her out of her bed. She struggled, flailing her arm and legs. He dropped her and she hit the hard wood floor.

"Are you up?" he asked.

She jumped up, grabbed her crumpled blankets and scrambled into her bed. Without a word, her father left the room. She snuggled down into her bed. A second later her father's footsteps  echoed in the hallway, along with the sound of water sloshing in a pot. She twisted around as her father stepped into her room. Adrenaline shot through her and she jolted out of bed. Her father smiled.

"You're up. How about a run?" he asked.

Carter glared at him as she pushed him out of her room.

"I'll be ready in five. Child services will be here in ten," she said.

"Just enough time to slip out before they get here."

She turned and kicked the door shut. Two minutes later, she emerged from her room dressed and hair pulled back. Her father stood in the living room stretching. After drinking a single glass of a green power shake, she groaned and joined him. Her tired muscles protested the early wake up call.

"How do you feel about running to the Capital today?" her father asked.

"As long as it means you bust an ankle on the steps, sounds great," she grumbled.

"I'll take that as a yes. You ready?"

She straightened and nodded.

"I set the pace this time," she said.

Her father nodded as they stepped out into the cold morning air. Light peeked on the horizon and mist covered the world. They descended the metal staircase and headed towards the road. Carter looked up at her father and grinned.

"Try to keep up, old man," she said, then took off running.

Her father chuckled and started running, falling into step beside her.

************

Carter stepped from her room, pulling her wet hair back into a ponytail. The sound of the shower running filled the small apartment. She was about to step into the living room when she paused. Her attention fell to her father's room at the end of the hallway, the door open. Back tracking, she moved towards it. She stood frozen in the door way. Before her lay a simple double bed, made with military neatness, bare walls and a desk covered in tidy stacks of paper with a single picture frame.

She hesitated before walking over to the desk. Without disturbing the rest of the desk, she picked up the picture frame. A family of three smiled back at her. Her father's arms were wrapped around the ten year old version of herself. Her mother wore a wide smile and rested against her dad, her hair wind blown. Carter's finger's gripped the frame tighter and tighter.

"I remember that day," her father said, behind her. "It was perfect."

Carter forced her fingers to relax and set the frame down.

"Sure."

Her gaze fell onto a nearby stack and the photo that lay on top. Her brow creased in confusion as she picked it up, studying it.

"What's this?" she asked.

The photo held the close up image of part of a face. She pulled the photo closer, something familiar about. Her father moved to her and looked over her shoulder.

"That's President Douglas," her father said, turning away.

"Care to explain why you feel the need to have close up images of his face?" she asked, looking at the stack and seeing another image of the President's forehead.

Her father chuckled.

"For work," he said. "With plastic surgery being what it is today, it's possible for people to alter their face to match the President's. They could possibly try to make a switch. It's very unlikely, but we need to be prepared for anything. The photos are of subtle details that could not be copied. Like the freckles in his eyes, which is a family trait or his birthmark."

"Interesting," she said.

She picked up the stack and briefly flipped through the photos, only half looking at the images.

"You ready?" her father asked.

She set aside the photos and turned to him, nodding.

"Yeah," she said, moving to the door. "You made me run twelve miles on barely anything. Child services will be hearing about this."

"Is that so?" he father said, following her to the front door.

"They'll add to the list of abuse as well." She turned to him as he closed and locked the front door. "Don't you know that you're not suppose to drop your kid on the floor?"

"That rule wasn't in the hand book."

The metal staircase clanged as they descended. Though the sun had woken up the world, their neighborhood remained quiet, except for the occasional bark of a dog or rushing of a car.

"You're not suppose to raise a kid by reading a military training manual," she said.

"Really?" her father asked, grinning. "I thought it was turning out well."

"Is this your subtle way of telling me you raised me to be an assassin?" she asked. "Because I'm fine with it, as long as you are."

"I was going for a girl able to protect herself, but assassin works just as well."

As they stepped out of the back alley, her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Carter elbowed him in the ribs, making him chuckle. They crossed the street and moved towards the deli. The bell rang over head as they stepped inside. Maggie glanced up from the counter, giving them a warm smile that raced into her eyes.

"You two hungry?" she asked.

Carter crossed her arms and slipped from her father's embrace.

"Starved doesn't begin to describe my current state," she said. "I found this morning was filled with far more abuse than I believe I should be put through. Steve here made me run twelve miles on only a power shake."

Maggie winked at her.

"I guess that calls for lots of food then," she said. "How was your run?"

Carter put on a smug expression, looking at her father.

"Do you want to tell her how I completely destroyed you, or shall I?" she asked.

Crossing his arms, her father looked at Maggie, smiling.

"It went well," he said.

Carter turned her attention to Maggie.

"He doesn't want to admit to the fact that he is starting to weaken in his advanced years."

Her father turned to her, raising a finger.

"How about this Sarge," he said. "When you are 39, I will get an 18 year old to run with you."

"Please, you've let yourself go, Captain. I don't plan on making the same mistake."

Her father wrapped an arm around her neck and rubbed his hand over her hair. In retaliation she elbowed his side and spun out his grip. Hair fell in front of her face as she crouched, fists raised, her smiling taunting.

"You think you are really fast enough, old man?" she asked.

Maggie stepped in between them, breaking the energy that had built up in Carter.

"Did you want food or not?" Maggie asked.

Carter straightened and carelessly brushed back her hair.

"I see what's going on," she said, gesturing between her father and Maggie. "You just didn't want to see him get humiliated."

Maggie shook her head and moved back behind the counter.

"I'll have your food ready in a few minutes," she called out.

Her father stepped up to Carter and turned her around, directing her to a booth with his hands on her shoulders.

"Maybe next time Sarge," he said.

"Sure," she mocked. "You just didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of Maggie."

She slid into a booth, her father taking the opposite side. She gave him a wide smile.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure she'll still like you. Though maybe just think a little less of you."

Her father gave her a flat look.

"We are not discussing this," he said.

"Agreed. We aren't discussing anything. I'm just stating the obvious."

Her father leveled her with an unamused expression. In return, she gave him a smug, toothy grin.

****************

"Sarge, did you get that?" her father asked.

Carter stood in a huddled group with seven other men, all three times her size and a head taller than her. They were crouched in the inside of a wide room, on a lot covered with empty houses. The walls were cracked and the paint was chipping. Loose floor boards and dust layered the ground.

She cracked a smile.

"Sorry, Captain I wasn't paying attention," she said.

A round of chuckles rippled through the group of men. Her father's face hardened.

"Joking," she said. "You act like I haven't done this a million and one times."

She released the clip to her pistol and checked the paint balls. After she reloaded the clip, she cocked the gun and looked back at her father.

"I scout out ahead of the group. Locate where the enemy is holding the hostages. Then when you are all in position, we breach the house."

Carter looked over at Curtis wearing a smug grin. He glanced at her father and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"When were you planning to tell us that when you leave the service Carter is taking your place?" he asked.

The men laughed and Carter joined in. Her father looked back at her and nodded.

"Now that I'm convinced you were paying attention, we can move out," he said. He looked to the men. "Blue team move to the East quadrate. Red, North. Green, South. I'll take West. Sarge, comm in when you have the location. Let's move out."

The group broke apart, splitting off into pairs and dispersing. Carter cut across the living room and moved into the kitchen, attaching a supressor to her gun as she went. She nimbly crossed to the back door, avoiding the shards of faded blue tile that dotted the floor. Easing the back door open, she slipped from the house.

A backyard lay before her. With a quick glance around, she jogged across the yard and vaulted over the low chainlink fence. She dropped to a crouch when her boots hit the dirt. Moving to the edge of the alley, she sidled along the houses, keeping her eyes open for movement, her gun half raised. She lifted her wrist and whispered into her comm set.

"Hey Curtis, how did babysitting go?" she said, holding back a smile.    

Static crackled in her ear and a second later Curtis's deep voice came through clear.

"You know I don't talk about the people I work for," he said, a smile in his voice.

She peered around the corner of a house, her wrist raised.

"That's because if you did, Hamel's innocent ears wouldn't be able to take it."

Faint snippets of laughter rang in her ears. Before Hamel had the chance to retaliate, Carter's father spoke.

"Enough chit chat. Stay focused. Sarge, head for the red two story, a block North. I saw movement," he said.

"Copy that," Carter said.

She gripped her gun and quickened her pace. With a practiced ease, she navigated her way through the maze of houses, backyards and alleys. Growing closer to the red house, she slowed, approaching it with cautious steps. Tucked into an alley across from her target, she kneeled to the ground and surveyed the windows.

"I'm in position," she said.

Static sounded then her father's voice.

"See anything?"

"Negative. Holding."

For a long moment nothing within the house moved. Then, in one of the first story windows a shadow passed behind the blinds.

"We have movement," she said. "Checking perimeter now."

She slid out from the alley and moved to another alley facing the back of the house. As she crouched, peering around the building, facing her target, a man in all black appeared.

Without hesitating, she fired. The paint ball hit and burst on the man's chest, before he raised his weapon. Carter stood and moved forward. The man looked at her with a set mouth.

"I've never liked you, Carter," he said.

She smiled and shrugged.

"Next time Davis. Or not."

The man sat down and she walked past him, raising her wrist.

"One hostile eliminated," she said. "Affirmative, this is our target."

"Good work, Sarge," her father said. "Teams fall in. Hold at twenty yards. Sarge, we need the number of hostiles and their positions." 

"On it."

Carter cleared the perimeter and moved in. Checking that the coast was clear, she raced from her alley and stopped beside the house, her back pressed against the chipping paint wall. Her heart pounded and her fingers tingled with a familiar rush of adrenaline. She edged her way along the house, spying in through cracks and gaps in the blinds.

"I have six hostiles on the bottom floor," she whispered.

"Good. Red team give me information on the second floor," her father said.

Static filled her ear as she waited.

"We have located three hostiles on the top floor, in the South room along with two hostages," a gruff voice said.

"Alright. Sarge, can you gain access to the second floor?"

Carter looked up, searching for an access point. She peeked around the corner and surveyed the wall.

"Drain pipe on the North side of the house," she said. "Farthest from the current location of the hostiles."

"Okay, climb it. Blue team get into position and lay down cover," her father said.

Blue team voiced they were in position, "Carter, we got your six."

"Copy that." Carter moved, sliding around the corner of the house and inched toward the drain pipe, her ears straining to hear shouts of alarm. Unnoticed, she stopped and gripped the thin metal brackets. Achingly slow, she climbed, aware of every squeak and noise of protest the pipe let out. Holding on with one hand, she raised her wrist.

"Blue team, am I clear to enter?"

"Affirmative," Curtis said.

She eased the window open. Then gripping the side of the window, she tucked her leg over the lip and pulled the rest of her body inside. She dropped to the floor, landing on the balls of her feet. An empty bedroom with faded green walls lay before.

"I'm in," she said.

"Get into position and when I give the order, take down the hostiles," her father said.

"Affirmative. Moving into position now."

Carter moved towards the bedroom. Slowly turning the knob, she cracked the door open an inch. The hallway beyond was empty. She widened the gap and peered around the door frame, checking both ends of the hall. Breathing slowly, she stepped out. She set down her foot cautiously. The floor boards shifted under her weight, but made no noise.

Heart hammering, and body coursing with energy, she made her way to the hostiles' location. Outside the room, she held her position, gun raised. Her voice barely made a sound as she relayed that she was in position.

"On my mark, we breach," her father said.

She took in a deep breath and edged toward the door handle. Holstering her gun, she pulled out a small canister from her pocket and put one hand on the door.

"Now!"

Carter pulled the door open, yanked the pin out of the canister set it tumbling in to the room. She turned away as a flash of white light burst in the room and an explosive bang rang out. Turning back to the room, she pulled out her gun and stepped inside. With three quick pulls, she shot the hostiles, red paint splattering their chests.

Below her, she could hear the sound of footsteps pounding on wooden floor boards and the ringing of shots. Letting loose angry strings of curses, the three men before her blinked the spots of white from their eyes. Boots pounded outside the room and a second later her father appeared, followed by Curtis. Her father put an arm around her.

"Well done, Sarge," he said. "Hostiles neutralized and the hostages are alive."

She smiled and nudged him in the ribs as the rest of the team filed into the room.

"Sometimes I wonder how you do your job without me," she said.

The men laughed. Carter raised her fist in the air.

"Beers on me!"

**********************************************************************

Oi!

So I know, you hate me just a little bit right now because Link and Donovan (mostly Donovan) were not in this chapter. It's okay they will be in the next, just breath! And don't throw tomatoes at me, this chapter had to happen. *ducks behind book as tomatoes come flying at me* Please! I'm sorry, they will be back! I promise!

On another note, what do you do for fun? Besides throwing tomatoes at innocent authors. Because that's what I do.

Vote, comment, follow! (Yeah, I know I was lacking in the creativity)

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