The Vanguard Vixen

How

Turana had opened her eyes to find that she was staring right into Zhirkov's. She hadn't recognised him then of course, and she had kicked his face, hard. Dr Lukas, and the other mercenary whom she had spared but didn't know by name had immediately rushed to stop her.

She had then recognised that it was Zhirkov, and had apologised to him.
Zhirkov got up, rubbing his rapidly swelling left eye, that was already by beginning to turn a sickly color.
"Do all women in Vanguard hit this hard?" He asked in English, but with a thick Prussian accent.

Dr Lukas grappled with Zhirkov's hand, trying to pry it away from his face with no luck.
"If only you'd just let me see!"

"I am fine." Zhirkov replied gruffly.

His continued refusal of the doctor's efforts to check his eye was an obvious pointer to Turana that she had bruised his ego in front of the other mercenary, who she had spotted chuckling a few times. She felt slightly guilty for having acted rashly so she went to him.

"You two," She spoke to Dr Lukas and the mercenary, and pointed to the door. "Out. Go check the weapons."

The mercenary started to protest.
"But we did that-

Dr Lukas grabbed his hand and led him outside.
"Come on ET, let's go check the weapons."

Turana hadn't failed to notice that the din outside had grown silent.
She reached for Zhirkov's hand. He turned away. She gave him a sharp look.
"If I have to break your arm to get it out of the way, I will."

It was when he faced her that she saw the actual extent of the damage. A triangular red gush had flooded downward from his nose,  past his mouth and neck to the shirt below. The shirt was wet to the waist. Zhirkov had split lips and blood rimmed teeth. His nose was still leaking, a steady stream.
"Happy now?"

"I didn't mean to hit you this hard." She replied with genuine worry. "I should take a look at that."

"Who are you?" Zhirkov looked at her. "I know Colonel Turana Blair. And you are not her. Although you are her."

"Something like that." Turana replied, and Zhirkov decided not to push. She had hit him once, and he wasn't going to call for more.

"Do you have any medical training?" He warily eyed her as she went around the room, collecting items.

"I wouldn't do brain surgery, but I can stop the bleeding." Turana sat before him and opened the first aid kit she had found.

She soaked cloths in warm water and started gently cleaning Zhirkov's face.

"The soldiers outside,who fought back. Are they yours?"

"They are. Thank you, we couldn't have brought down those things without you. " He said, slow, nasal and indistinct.

She jammed his nostrils with gauze and used butterfly closures on his cut lips. The anaesthetic took the pain away and Zhirkov settled into a clam and dreamy state. Turana hopped it wouldn't last very long, for she would need him if they were to leave the dark route alive. They had beaten the F360's, and the Vanguard would not be too happy about that.

It was hard to say exactly what he looked like. His nose had been busted before. That was clear. Apart from that he had good skin and sturdy bone structure and dark eyes.

Turana went and washed her hands.

"You okay now?" She asked him.

"Not too bad."

"You've been taking aspirin Zhirkov?"

"Yes."

"Because this happens a lot?"

"V169 has hit me quite a few times, but you're the only other woman that has done it."

Turana noted his words. 'Only other woman.'

What about a man?

"Do you have any history of hypertension or blood disorders?"

He shook his head.

"Drugs?"

He looked offended this time, and firmly shook his head.

She had an idea of what was wrong. In the military, sometimes they would get called off post, or to the married quarters. Women who got hit a lot took a lot of aspirin, because of the pain. But aspirin thins the blood, so the next time they got hit, they wouldn't stop bleeding. Not many women would hit Zhirkov, but if he was in a relationship with a man, a...violent one, or something like that, it would explain the issue. But Zhirkov was a monster of a man, so who would hit him?

"Five minutes Zhirkov, and we leave."

*****

Lewis stared down at the architectural plans laid out on the rickety table before him. He fought the urge to lean down on it, for the first time he had done that it had collapsed, and mixed up all the papers. He analysed the continuous labyrinth of tunnels, a seemingly endless network of routes and dead ends, a maze that spread out under all of Vanguard.

The people that had captured him weren't monsters, just that they had stayed so long under that they had lost a part of their humanity. Their social skills were literally garbage, since they claimed the only reason that they had lured him into their trap was so he could help them. Altogether though, they were generally fine, and Lewis tried to ignore their odd behavior.

These people had used the tunnels for years to travel across Vanguard, only that many got lost quite often. They claimed that the tunnels changed sometimes. Lewis was no genius, but he knew manipulation when he saw it. The fact that they had somehow gotten hand of the plans, meant someone else was running the show. How? They couldn't have done it on their own. There were at least fifty of them down there, and they seemed to be in desperate need of leadership. Not that Lewis was offering his services, no, he had to get back to Turana.

And find Vivian.

And then his friends.

First though, he would have to find whoever it was that controlled the tunnel system. An analysis of the blueprints showed a major underground station. It must have been the place. It appeared to have been heavily shielded—thick concrete layered with steel plates.

An idea started to come together in his head. Perhaps he could hit two birds with one stone.

Lewis rolled up the papers and turned around. They calls told silent behind him, waiting, hopeful.

"I am going to need the gun."

*****

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