Guardian Angels (An AC6 Fanfiction) [SLOW UPDATE]

Chapter 2: Defend The Last Resort

12 November, 2015 1417hrs
Gracemeria Train Station, Gracemeria

- 3rd person's p.o.v. -

Lt. Colonel Victor Voychek awoke with a start as the train came to a stop. Blinking away the blurriness, he fought the lethargy that threatened to overwhelm him as he stood, painfully aware of the lancing pain coming from his right leg. The pain did have a positive effect on him though, as it drove away from the last of the fatigue he was feeling.

Grabbing the cane at his side, he stood slowly as the pain in his right leg throbbed dimly as he supported his weight on the wooden crutch. Grabbing his luggage along with a silver briefcase stenciled with the Estovakian coat-of-arms which he put on top of the luggage, Voychek trudged slowly out into the train's corridor and moved towards one of the open doors.

He mentally sighed as he neared the exit. "Relegated to ground duty ..." He thought sourly. "And to think that I was in the air, fighting for my country not a month and a half ago..."

He glanced up when sunlight struck his face directly despite there being a roof over the tracks, only to find a giant gaping hole was the culprit. It was from a bomb or missile, he didn't know which.

"It would seem the city's resigned to its fate beneath the Estovakian flag...what a pitiful sight."

Voychek noticed the flags of his country hanging from the building he could see through the hole in the ceiling, and after a few moments, he lowered his gaze and continued walking forward. He was thankful deep down that the city itself, for the most part, was relatively left unscathed from what he heard after the invasion had finished.

As an intelligence officer for the Air Force, he needed to see only statistics and numbers and the overall big picture, not individual faces and unnecessary distractions caused by empathy and guilt.

Having reached one of the empty tables, he sat down on one of the chairs while securing the silver briefcase with handcuffs attached to the handle connected to his wrist before putting it on the table. Setting aside his luggage and cane, the former flight lead of the feared Strigon Team waited for one of his contacts to arrive to pick him up for his newly assigned duties.

As Voychek's thoughts drifted back to his former squadron, the sound of his cane falling made him look at where his luggage is-was supposed to be. The sound of running footsteps greeted him as a child, a boy no older than ten, ran away with his luggage over his shoulder.

"Go dance with the angels!" he had called over his shoulder, before several Military Police started chasing after him, whistles blowing all the while.

"There goes my spare clothing." Voychek thought idly as he bent to pick up his cane. Clothes didn't matter to him, for they are replaceable. As for the silver briefcase in his possession...

He felt a sharp tug come from his right hand - the hand which he cuffed his wrist to the briefcase - and turned to see another child, a young boy with a beanie cap and dark blue sweater and green shorts, attempting to pry the briefcase from him.

The ensuing tug-of-war was no contest as Voychek easily wrestled the carry case from the boy, who fell on his behind before getting on his feet and running. "They would not be so lucky with these documents," he thought.

After resting for a little while after the long train ride to the city, he decided to find a ride that would take him to a landmark he expressed interest in going to once he had seen it briefly from the sky.

Gracemeria Castle, the oldest structure in the city, a landmark he remembered was the seat of power for one of Emmeria's oldest kings, the one who united the lands and established what the country was today during medieval times. Once he was dropped off by the main entrance, he thanked the taxi driver but got no response whatsoever as he drove away.