Not In This Lifetime Ch. 06

Trigger warnings & Author's notes

May contain: violence, extreme domination, degradation, sadism, non-consent/coercion, slavery.

Chapter Six: operation eastrun

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Officer Symond Welles was at his desk, sitting across from the fidgety man from Wolfpine. The man's name was Malla Broggs; he was the Wolfpine villager who had previously assisted the royal army in placing security cameras throughout the town. Symond slid a backpack across his desk toward the man.

"You know what I'm going to ask of you."

Broggs nodded, his nervous energy never dissipating.

"You'll find multiple tracking devices in there as well. If possible, I'd like you to plant them on the ring leaders. They are small enough they can easily be inserted into the tread of a boot."

Broggs nodded again. "I think I can manage that."

Symond glanced at the other man skeptically. It wasn't that he thought the man incapable, he simply was wary of trusting him after the first stunt he pulled. Symond half expected to lose more of his tech when the man inevitably chickened out again. In the end, he figured the opportunity was worth the risk.

Broggs had reached out to him him a couple of months after he had retracted his initial offer of assistance. When pressed to explain himself, he painted a picture of a messy operation with no long term plan of action. "Boys playing war," Symond had thought to himself. The entire town of Wolfpine was on edge with the growing rebel presence.

Broggs explained that he, along with the other villagers he had spoken to, wanted the rebels gone and the town to return to normal. There was growing concern that the royal army would target the town as a whole when it came to retaliation -- innocent townsfolk and all.

And so Malla Broggs took it upon himself to sneak security cameras back into Wolfpine for officer Welles, making sure to hide one in the community center where the rebels had their meetings. "They meet every Sunday," he informed the officer before stepping out of the room, backpack in hand.

Things seemed to be looking up for Symond.

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Sunday afternoon, Wolfpine.

The community center in Wolfpine was bustling with activity as the rebel soldiers socialized while they waited for the meeting to begin. Eros, Dego, and Bere all sat at the table in the front of the room. They had been talking amongst themselves for the last fifteen minutes or so.

An abrupt, loud whistle brought everyone's attention up front as Eros stood facing the rebel soldiers. "We have decided to take the town of Kilead." The room went silent as everyone received this news. This was a major development.

Bere was next to speak.

"I will personally be leading a company Tuesday morning at dawn. We have outgrown our resources in Wolfpine. Scouts have reported that we have an overwhelming amount of support within Kilead. We don't expect much resistance to our residency there, but we will be prepared to fight should the royal army arrive."

Eros placed a clipboard on the table. "We have a group of Kilead citizens who have joined our cause stationed over there ready to assist. If you are willing to join the company for this mission, please add your name to the list."

Symond, now privy to their meetings, was surprised by this bold move. Had their numbers really grown so much in such a short amount of time that this was a feasible plan of action? He could not believe it. Either way, he would be ready to meet them with a company of his own.

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Tuesday morning, Kilead.

Symond was stationed outside of Kilead on horseback. He and General Narder had managed to convince king Oppius Domarc to allow him to lead a company of 200 to Kilead to deal with the rebel threat. They had arrived before sunrise, but as the sun crept higher and higher into the sky there was no sign of the intruders.

Symond found himself pacing his horse. He wondered if one of the Kilead rebels had caught wind of them and warned the others. The thought was disappointing to the officer. He had to admit he enjoyed commanding the company, and he hadn't had the opportunity to do so since he was put on rebel watch. Alas, it was looking as though no great battle would take place today.

Symond pulled out his phone to check on the tracking devices that Broggs had succeeded in planting in the suspected rebel leaders' boots. He was surprised to see that the map was indicating that all three of them were here in Kilead. But where -- where were they? What was their move?

"Hold your positions," he barked at the company before taking off toward the location of the three tracking devices. The map led him straight into Kilead. Down the street, toward a house, into a chicken yard. Symond looked around. All he saw were chickens. They clucked obliviously and pecked the ground around his feet. He looked from the map to the chickens and back again. Did they...

"Fucking hell," Symond cursed when he saw a small tracking device attached to the leg of one of the birds. His thoughts were immediately interrupted when he received a call on his phone.

"They're here, sir. The rebels are at Eastrun."

The reality of the situation quickly dawned on Symond. He'd been duped. The rebels had lured him away from the base and he had easily fallen for it.

"How many?"

"A small squad of less than ten, sir."

"Don't let them escape. Use any means necessary to stop them." Symond ended the call and stared off into the distance toward Wolfpine. He was absolutely livid.

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Tuesday morning, Eastrun.

This mission had gone horribly wrong. It had gone well until an explosive landed near the small group of rebels, knocking them off their feet. Luckily it hadn't been a direct hit, but Mile still grimaced as he found himself on his back, rubble raining down upon him from the sky. He grunted and propped himself up. Cerys and the others were further up ahead, picking themselves up as well. Cerys looked back at him.

"Don't stop -- Get it home!"

Mile watched Cerys hesitate for a moment but then he turned on his heel and fled the scene. They had secured, among other things, the stationed officer's laptop, and both men knew their top priority was to get it to safety. Cerys knew Mile was capable of taking care of himself. But, gods, was he capable? That blast hurt like hell. His ears were still ringing. He grimaced as he struggled to stand.

"Walk it off, Mile," he murmured to himself as he started to follow after the others. More explosives rang out in the distance, the air was thick with clouds of dust and dirt. Mile buried his nose and mouth in the crook of his elbow to keep from breathing it in as he struggled to see in front of him. An eerie siren wailed in the distance, no doubt warning the rest of the royal army that their base had been infiltrated. The rebels had not known that the small base was so abundantly manned -- in fact they were counting on the fact that is was not, as had always been the case in the past. Mile felt entirely responsible for putting them in harm's way. Had they known, they would not have acted so brazenly, but here they were, and they had actually managed to achieve their objective. At least, so far.

"This is actually really bad," Mile thought as he stumbled along. He wasn't sure he was even going the right way anymore, he had lost his watch at some point in the madness, and thus couldn't rely on the compass feature. He had been meaning to fix that loose band buckle. Stupid.

He hurried along for what seemed like way too long, and realized he was going to have to stop moving until the explosions stopped and the air cleared up. It was just a small group of them, this seemed like overkill -- surely they hadn't yet figured out what the rebels had taken. He looked for somewhere to hunker down, eventually finding a ditch and hopping down into it, pressing his back against the cool earth.

This was a very vulnerable spot to be in, enemy soldiers would no doubt be scouring the area for them once they got their fill of shooting explosives. He would have to leave as soon as he could. The minutes seemed to drag on forever as he sat in that ditch. He thought about how the situation came to be.

It had been two months since Mile had accidentally discovered the enemy soldier on the outskirts of Wolfpine. Of course he didn't know it at the time, but the rebels would later identify him as Officer Symond Welles.

"It seems we have their attention now," Eros had said when informed of Mile's encounter. He decided they needed to amp up their defense and have a patrol team around the village. "Something we should have already been doing," he admitted.

"Send me to Eastrun," Mile had implored, and the three rebel leaders plus Cerys looked at him in surprise. "I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. The base in Eastrun is a small operation with a single soldier or possibly two stationed. I know that it has also been used as a storage facility in the past. If we can sneak in before the royal army realizes we are a threat, we can acquire some easy technology. We might not have another opportunity like this and I truly believe we should seize it." All eyes were on Mile. He continued. "I know you can't trust me yet -- I am willing to do this alone."

Everyone was quiet for a moment and then Eros spoke.

"You're right that we can't trust you. But you make an interesting argument and I think it might be worth the risk. However, I can't in good conscience send a single man to do the job."

"I'll go with him," Cerys immediately offered.

"You trust him?" Bere inquired, cocking his head slightly.

"I really do."

Mile couldn't stop the grin that crept across his face at Cerys' quick response. He owed the man so much.

"I do, as well."

Everyone turned to look at Dego. Bere looked shocked.

"You... you do? Since when?"

Dego grinned. "What? We had a heart to heart." He winked at Mile.

Oh, is that what he was calling it.

"Okay..." Eros, usually fairly deadpan, couldn't hide his surprise at this development. "Well that's unexpected." He looked at Mile and Cerys. "Alright. If you can find at least one other who is willing to assist you, then you've got yourselves a mission."

In the end, a number of people had jumped at the chance to join the operation. The rebellion had been laying low since claiming Wolfpine, and it seemed that people were eager for action. Mile and Cerys selected two others, a quiet young man from up North named Fila, and an older gentleman; a fellow former soldier of the royal army named Ament.

Mile had a plan, but there were lots of moving parts and it would take multiple people to pull off.

At long last, it seemed like the final explosion had sounded and the air began to calm around Mile. Even the siren had stopped. Now there was eerie silence. He wasn't sure which was worse. Mile hoisted himself out of the ditch and surveyed his surroundings. The air was still thick with dust, but he could make out the mountains looming in the distance.

"Perfect," he thought, and began to run in that direction. The war-field opened up into wilderness and he was home free.

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Saturday evening, Wolfpine.

"Why do you need to go out?" Mile demanded.

Cerys grinned at him. "Come on, you know you want to! We deserve to celebrate, we accomplished something major this week. First active mission since Operation: Wolfpine!"

"It's stupid -- it's not safe," Mile retorted.

"Look, Ezaros is a neutral zone. If anyone starts anything, the citizens will put a stop to it immediately. No uniformed soldiers are welcome. We're all just regular folk there."

Mile sighed. "I am recognizable. What if --"

Cerys interrupted him. "Don't worry so much! You're less recognizable now. Your hair is different and you look like shit," he winked. "Plus you've been working on that accent of yours. You blend in better."

Mile sighed again. Cerys was being generous with his comment about his accent. He was working on it, but it was difficult to force himself to speak another way, and he forgot to half the time anyway.

"I don't want to go."

"Yes you do."

Mile scowled at his friend and fellow soldier. He couldn't deny that a night out did sound nice. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to have fun, and the stress of the mission had been intense.

"I don't know, Cerys."

"It's gonna be okay, Mile. I promise. We'll stay together in case something happens, but it won't."

Mile let out a final exasperated sigh and simply nodded his head at Cerys. He would just have to stay vigilant and keep his wits about him.

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Saturday night, the town of Ezaros.

Mile sat alone at a table in the club, nursing his second drink and watching his friend flirt with various women on the dance floor. This was definitely not what he had signed up for, but he couldn't help but feel amused as the redhead started making out with a stranger. In retrospect, he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by the behavior; Cerys was always flirting with the women in Wolfbane; rebels and villagers alike. The alcohol just amplified it.

Mile picked up his drink and took another swig. He was actually feeling tipsy, when had he become such a lightweight? It had been almost a year since he'd last had an alcoholic beverage, he realized. Joining the rebellion had kept him busy. He hadn't even been missing it, but he had to admit that this was enjoyable. Mile sighed and relaxed further into his chair. He closed his eyes, the music and chatter around him becoming one dull roar in his ears.

"Mind if I sit?" A deep voice pulled him out of his relaxed trance.

That voice...

Mile opened his eyes and looked up to see Officer Welles gazing down at him. He gasped and jumped to his feet, the clanging of his chair against the concrete floor of the club reverberating loudly. The group of people nearest to them turned to see what was happening, but the music was loud enough that the sudden noise went unnoticed by most. Mile stood there and stared at the officer, stunned.

Symond smirked at the reaction of the young rebel. So he remembered him. Good. He motioned to Mile's chair. "Don't let me interrupt your relaxing evening. Please, sit." Symond sat in the chair opposite him. Mile blinked and came back to his senses. Neutral zone... right? Cerys had said the entire town was. He looked around for Cerys. The other man was nowhere to be seen now. Probably fucking that stranger in the bathroom, Mile thought, suddenly annoyed with his friend.

"Sit," came the voice again, more insistent this time. Mile frowned but felt compelled to obey the officer's command. It must've been his time in the royal army, he thought bitterly, annoyed at how deeply the conditioning was drilled into him. He slowly sat back down into his chair and stared at the intimidating figure before him. If the man intended to arrest him, Mile would be safer in this club amongst all these people.

"What are you having?" Symond eyed the remainder of what was in Mile's glass. "Whiskey on the rocks? Not messing around tonight, are we?" He beckoned a waitress over and ordered two more. Then he sat back, his left arm outstretched languidly over the back of his chair. Mile watched him warily. What was his game?

The older man smiled at the rebel's obvious discomfort and observed him overtly. The awkward silence was deafening, but Mile found he had no words. They sat in silence, staring at each other until the waitress returned with the drinks and seemed to break the spell. She sat the first in front of Symond and the second in front of Mile. Symond thanked her and placed the glass against his lips, sampling the whiskey.

"Not bad. I hear the distillery is in this very town."

Mile blinked and unconsciously looked down at his glass.

"I didn't poison it, Mile." Symond took another sip of his own drink.

"Why are you here?" Mile finally managed to get out.

"My buddy over there just got promoted. Wanted to celebrate." He nodded toward a table to a burly, bearded man that was very clearly not on his first drink. He was creating a ruckus amongst the group of people around him, all of them laughing uproariously at whatever he had said.

"Where's your friend?"

Mile frowned. How long had the officer been here, watching him? He hadn't even noticed the other man -- he felt like a fool.

"Around," he replied, trying to sound unbothered.

Symond's smirk returned. "Uh huh..." he took another sip. Mile looked away and unconsciously took a long drink from his glass. This was decidedly not a fun time. He was going to kill Cerys if he made it out of this.

"You have been working hard."

Mile glanced at him and took another drink, refusing to engage. Symond continued, unperturbed. "You look as though you've gained quite a bit of muscle since our last encounter."

No response. Symond, determined to get a rise out of the young rebel, took another drink from his glass before asking, "busy last Tuesday?"

Asshole. Mile visibly tensed in his chair, his lower jaw taut, and placed his glass on the table a little too loudly.

"Thought so." Symond reached into his pants pocket and pulled something out and tossed it over the table to him. Mile fumbled with it briefly before getting ahold of it. He frowned as he looked at his lost watch. Stupid. Fucking stupid.

Ryfrid, a fellow soldier, and a brilliant one at that, had taken many measures to secure all of their technology, so it was highly unlikely that the officer had managed to break into it and access his information since tuesday. But it was an expensive, top of the line watch that he'd had before joining the rebellion. It was not likely that another rebel soldier would have anything remotely similar.

"You'll want to get rid of that, it's been bugged." Symond winked.

The fuck was this man's game? Mile hated that the other man was blatantly toying with him. He sighed and placed the watch on the table before taking another swig of his drink. Symond followed suit, never taking his eyes off the rebel. Mile felt like a prey animal about to be devoured by a predator.

So why did he feel a growing sense of excitement? Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he couldn't help but admire the older soldier. Symond was not a bad looking man by any means. Mile guessed that he was in his mid to late thirties. He was upwards of six foot tall, and well built. He had long, dirty blonde hair he kept in a bun on his head. His facial hair was kept short and neatly trimmed. He had such a relaxed demeanor about him, Mile wondered if they might have gotten along had he remained in the army. Mile raised his glass to his lips, and then realized he'd finished the drink. He placed the glass back on the table.

Symond noticed as well, and finished off his own before standing suddenly. "Come."

Mile blinked and looked up at him. "What?"

"Get up. Let's go."

He frowned, not appreciating being ordered around.

"Why would I -- I-- Absolutely not." Mile sat firmly in his chair, flustered. He would be an idiot to go anywhere with this man -- this man that served his father and had made it clear in the past that he'd eagerly send Mile back to the tyrant king per his orders.

Symond grinned at him. It wasn't the taunting smirk Mile was quickly becoming accustomed to, it came off as a genuinely friendly and playful grin, and gave the officer a boyish charm he had never seen from him before. It was decidedly the most adorable thing Mile had ever seen, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

Symond took advantage of Mile being caught off guard and pulled him to his feet.

"C'mon." Symond ushered him through the crowd and Mile found that he was helpless to stop himself from trailing behind the other man like a moth to a flame.