“Sorry,” mumbled Zeke, heat rushing to his cheeks. Frankie was sitting on a stool by the workbench, fully kitted out and looking extremely professional.
“These are a bit of a nightmare to learn at first.” Noah pulled the pads taut. He picked Zeke’s helmet off from the floor and handed him his glasses before gently placing the helmet on his head for him.
“Fantastic job!” Noah said to them, presumably aimed at Frankie, as Zeke had fucked it up. Again. “Let’s double check your VisorXs are connecting properly.” Noah powered on the helmets remotely from a tablet.
Zeke’s display panel burst to life. His view of the room through the visor was now bordered by red text presenting data. Over the last few weeks, he’d mastered how to navigate the interface to access a multitude of displays: the location of other squad members, heat maps, night vision mode, camera feeds. This, at least, he was good at.
“I still can’t get over how cool this is,” said Frankie.
Noah laughed in delight. “I’ll remind you that you said that. They can be cumbersome to wear for ten hours straight.”
Zeke silently stared out of a window. The thought of wearing this suit out of the compound in a couple of days had his brain fighting for oxygen.
“Are you okay, Zeke?” Frankie walked over and pressed the latch under his chin to release his helmet. She pulled it off and forced his head up to look at her. “You are going to be fine. Not only because you are now a kick-arse super soldier, but because you’ve got me and the rest of Squad E to look out for you. Noah won’t let anything happen to us.”
Looking directly into her dark eyes, he became overwhelmed by her concern. He bit back a half-formed snarky reply and said, “Thanks. I couldn’t have made it through the last two months without you.” It was true—every time he’d felt low, she’d done her best to get him back on his feet, and he’d done the same for her. He was proud to call her his friend.
Frankie flashed him a grin, displaying her brilliant-white teeth.
Noah looked at them with a complicated expression on his face. Was he running through all the ways Zeke was going to get them all killed? “Last stop is our lockers. Change back, then I’ll lead the way.”
Noah guided them to the second floor, a wide-open space housing hundreds of thin slithers of steel lockers.
“HR have already set up your bands to open yours,” he said, gesturing to two beside each other.
Zeke swiped his wristband over the sensor on the handle to release the lock. At the base of the interior locker, there was a port that matched the shape of his helmet—a charging dock. Above it, something shiny and silver hung from a small rail.
“What’s this?” said Frankie. He turned to find her holding an identical object in her hands.
“Dog tags,” Noah said quietly, apologetic. “They’re pretty antiquated now. We’ve used chips for the last twenty years. I guess it’s a bit of an ode to the past. Plus, they’re still sometimes necessary to identify a body where the chip is… missing.”
“Torn from the soldier’s flesh, you mean?” said Zeke. Noah and Frankie said nothing else, so he turned back to his locker and lifted the plaque on the metal chain: Zeke Bates, ED 263-742-251.
As he hung up his gear, a sense of finality struck him. This was it: the day after tomorrow, he’d be putting on this outfit, and heading into the field. But first, at least, was their trip into the city, and seeing Zaya at last.
Later, Habib grabbed Zeke in the corridor, on his way back from showering. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he said, steering him away from the dorm room into a quiet side-corridor.
“What is it?”
Habib stepped closer, forcing him to look up to meet his eye. “I just wanted to see if we were going to get any funny business on our little trip out tonight.”
Zeke took a step sideways to reclaim his space, but Habib only followed, crowding him against the wall. Zeke wanted to tell him to fuck off, but, in truth, Habib still terrified him. Habib coached him daily on weight training, and he’d been supportive, despite pushing him to his absolute limit. But Zeke always felt uncomfortable when it was just the two of them. He knew he hadn’t yet earned Habib’s approval, but what it would take to get it, he had no clue.
“What funny business?”
“Noah doesn’t seem to think you’re a flight risk. He thinks you’re not stupid enough. Luo, on the other hand, has five mug duties resting on it.” Habib shuffled even closer to him, his low voice deadly calm but laced with warning.
“And what about you?” Zeke fought to keep his voice calm.
“I’m not sure,” Habib said, running his fingers through his thick beard. “That’s why I wanted to warn you that if you try to make any trouble for Noah, there will be consequences.”
“What’s it to you guys, anyway? They’ll just replace me with someone else. Someone far better than me.”
Habib’s face pulled itself into a sneer. “Pull yourself together, Zeke. Let me make myself crystal clear. I’m coming along for the first hour, before I go to see my family for the evening. But if you go walkies, it will reflect badly on Noah and badly on Squad E. So unless you want a visit to the Hole, I suggest you stick very, very close. Because make no mistake—if you do try to run, they will find you.”
How did Habib expect him to want to be here if he was going to randomly attack him like this? A pulse of humiliation swept through him. Hot tears prickled behind his eyes, and he blinked rapidly to push them back. The last thing he wanted to do was to cry in front of Habib.
“Hey,” came a voice. Turning, he found Frankie’s concerned face.
