Penguins of Anarchy IV: Endgame

Twelve

The salty air was beginning to make Sleeson nauseous. He was getting sick of the sight of water, water, everywhere. The battleships cut through the water like knives through a tablecloth, heading north without a specific destination. Radio operators on the ships were working around the clock making contact with the nations that hadn't been victims of the blasts, including Russia, China, and other countries in Eastern Asia. Just about every other country in the world outside of North America was hammered with explosions—every country taken over by the Alliance.

The morale of all the passengers was extremely low. They had watched their entire country sink before their eyes, ripped apart by the predatory Americans. Everything—and almost everyone—they had grown up with and known and loved was now either incinerated or underwater. Every Antarctican now felt as Drake, Camo, and Greeney had felt thirty-nine years ago when they had watched their home island, Knifefish Isle, sink beneath the ocean.

Ursynz was taking it pretty well; he was constantly thinking about various strategies of retaliation in order to keep his mind distracted from his loss. Larikos was fairly indifferent to the destruction of Antarctica, but it brought him to tears to think about what a similar fate must have happened to his dear Argentina. Fragnile and Terasane, however, had barely said a word the past four days and weren't likely to change that tendency anytime soon. But Sleeson—Sleeson kept replaying the image of Revnos getting impaled by Chimera over and over again in his head. He tried to stop, but it kept coming back. He couldn't help but feel responsible for not doing more to save his friend, the only penguin who had helped him save Fragnile and the others. He and Terasane were alive because of Revnos.

Sleeson leaned over the guardrail beside Fragnile, who was thoughtfully staring out at the horizon. The constant sound of waves crashing against the hulls of the ships could either be therapeutic or maddening, depending on who you talked to. Sleeson was pretty sure Fragnile didn't even notice. "It could've been worse, Fragnile," Sleeson finally said. "We got away with a good number of soldiers. It's no army, but it's something."

"This isn't enough," Fragnile replied in a hollow voice as he continued staring at the horizon. "We need the rest of the task force. Dreemo, Sam, Marcosis, and Riker could still be alive. And even more importantly, Drake, Camo, Gostt, and that other guy made it out alive, and we need them more than anyone. They have to come back and lead these soldiers."

"Not on Brazen's watch," Sleeson countered. Brazen had been very reluctant to let Fragnile and the others roam free on the ships, but his surviving officers convinced him there would be no strategic advantage in the convicts betraying the entire fleet. Besides that, Brazen was beginning to see how much time Waff had wasted worrying about Task Force Anarchy rather than the enemy that had just annihilated billions of lives.

Fragnile glared at Sleeson. "Do you honestly think I care what Brazen says? You think he could stop Drake if Drake felt like taking over? You know what happened when Waff meddled in Drake's business. If Drake gets back, I don't care how many soldiers there are; he'll do what he wants."

"Careful, Colonel," Sleeson warned. "You're starting to sound like a traitor."

"Antarctica betrayed me!" Fragnile shot back. "I gave everything for Antarctica. I've watched hundreds of soldiers I've personally trained die fighting for Antarctica. And what have I got to show for it? A sunken continent and the mistrust of every Antarctican soldier remaining except Ursynz, Terasane, and hopefully you."

"I trust that you have the right motives," Sleeson replied, "but I'm concerned about what you're willing to do to get even. There are penguins on these ships who don't deserve to be punished for what Waff did. Even Brazen isn't to blame."