The Eyes of Fate (Currently in Rewrite)

Fly Boys

Sentinel

Home

Washington State, USA

December 2nd, 2019

"Morning, everyone," Sentinel said as he walked into the dining room. Only Fang and Chesyr were present, both of them seated at the table with a drink in front of them.

"Morning, Sentinel." Chesyr raised her coffee mug at him, then slide a glass of orange juice towards an empty seat. Sentinel smiled and took both the seat and the glass.

"Morning, kid." Fang took a long drink out of his glass of chocolate milk. "Sleep well?"

"About as good as usual," Sentinel answered. The others nodded in agreement. "Where's everyone else?"

"Finishing up with their packing," Fang said. "Did you get yours done?"

Sentinel nodded. He hadn't had a whole lot to pack, just clothes, toiletries and his knife. Ranger took charge of loading the rest of their weapons and ammo, Oracle was preparing any computer parts she might need, and Vyper had packed enough chemicals to destroy an entire town. Fang and Chesyr had only packed a little more than he had, which meant they could relax when they weren't helping the others.

"Have you ever flown before?" Chesyr asked him.

"Once, when I was really little." Sentinel shrugged. "I don't remember much about the flight itself, but I remember looking out the window and thinking about how cool it was."

"You should enjoy this one then," Fang said. "The Agency has planes designed for comfort, even the shitty ones like we're going to be flying on. It's one of the only things the movies got sort of right about them."

"I'm still surprised that they fly us at all," Chesyr mused.

"It's mostly so they can keep track of us." Fang smirked. "The first time they hired me, I flew myself out. They had no clue where I was or when I was arriving. By the time I showed up to our first meeting where I was supposed to get intel, I had already finished the job."

The three of them chuckled at that, Sentinel cutting his short so he could cough. When he straightened up, he saw that Chesyr was eyeing him warily.

"You good?" She asked. Sentinel nodded and smiled at her, but she didn't look convinced. "The ribs?"

"Yeah." Sentinel grinned at her again, and this time she returned it. Fang had given him a nasty bruise on his ribs, and he'd wound up catching pneumonia because of his shallow breathing in the cold air. Chesyr had lectured him for almost an hour about coming to her if he had any damage from to his head or chest, then another half hour yelling at Fang for doing it and for not telling her himself. 

"Did you take your meds today already?" Chesyr asked, referring to the antibiotics and cough medicine she had given him.

"Yeah, I did. I had some trouble getting my arms rebandaged though."

"Lose the jacket, I'll help."

Sentinel shrugged out of the jacket he had put on, leaving him in just his t-shirt. He pulled a roll of gauze and ointment out of his pocket and handed them to Chesyr before turning over his arms, revealing the angry red cuts on both arms.

Fang hadn't been kidding when he told Sentinel that his training was going to get tougher. After two weeks of fighting with the fake knives, Fang had moved on to using real ones. He said that in a knife fight, the first rule was that you were going to get cut, and Sentinel needed to understand that. Fang had mostly cut his arms, but had also given him several on his legs and chest. Fang's skill and experience had shown, though, since none of the cuts required stitches or left scars. The cuts were also mostly healed already, but Chesyr had ordered him to keep the scabs covered so they wouldn't tear open if he caught them or scratched them.