Chapter 10 Comrade-In-Arms

The drive to the affluent estate felt foreign after spending a few days in the quiet underground bunker. Van parked in front of a specific building.

He stopped in front of the slightly open gate, staring up at the two-storey building. He was feeling odd, nostalgic. Van hadn't been here in a long time. The usual cream colour building was now light brown. A tree in the front yard that hadn't been there the last time he was around.

Even though Kyrian Doker was a junior rank officer, former commander Doker was Van's closest friend and part of Task Force Nexus. He was the only one who knew Van. The real General Van Zero, war god of Valoris. He was the only person who had successfully transitioned back into the light. Kyrian was now the CEO of a security company, and the sprawling house reflected a man who had built a lucrative empire protecting others.

Van pushed the gate and went inside. He was not a stranger even though the environment felt a bit strange. Van walked up the driveway. High-end security cameras tracked his movement, their lenses adjusting with soft, mechanical whirs. Van didn't hide his face from them. He reached the front door. He noticed the small, worn brass knocker. An antique from their old barracks that Kyrian had stubbornly kept.

Van raised his hand to the door. He paused, then rang the doorbell.

The door opened.

Kyrian looked older now. He was graying at the temples. But he still had the same eyes, same shoulders. He was dressed in a tailored dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows revealing the tattoo on his lower right arm. Van remembered the day Kyrian got it. Kyrian persuaded Van to get his but Van refused. He never liked them. At least not on his skin.

The two men stared at each other, neither man spoke. Kyrian’s eyes scanned Van’s face, taking in the bruised jaw, the exhaustion behind the fierce facade.

“Wow. Sigmar, you look like shit.” Kyrian finally said, his voice a light quaver that hadn't changed. He was one of the people who had clearance to call Van Sigmar.

Van just grunted. “Looks like you did a full work up since I was last here” Van said looking around. The building, to the fence, to the yard.

Kyrian laughed.

“Same old Van huh. And I thought marriage would change you.”

Van clenched his jaw. He didn't say anything. Kyrian noticed.

He stepped aside “Get inside before my neighbors call the HOA. You know, homeowners-”

“I know quite alright. Every neighbourhood has one. Bunch of annoying people.” Van said, stepping inside.

The house smelled of wood polish mixed with lavender air freshener.

“I see you're doing well,” Van said as they walked into the living room. He saw kids’ shoes and backpacks on the floor by the corner. A dog barked somewhere in the back.

“Well, business is going well. They make me wear a suit every day” Kyrian added that last part with a bit of irritation.

Kyrian poured two glasses of red liquid from a crystal decanter, handing one to Van. He didn't ask what happened. He already knew about the explosion. "I’m sorry, Van. About Laura and Noah. I wanted to come to the funeral, but-”

"It's okay," Van interrupted gently. "It wasn't safe either.”

Kyrian took a slow sip. "Unlike you to show up and now after you know what happened, here you are.”

Van looked down at his glass.

“It wasn't an accident. It was all planned. They were murdered. And now they didn't just target me. They took my files. They know my entire operational history” Van raised his eyes, meeting Kyrian's gaze.

“I need your network access. I need to know who signed-off on the strike”

Kyrian set his glass down on the table. He looked away, staring out the large bay window toward the silhouette of the backyard swing set. “I can't.”

“You can, I know you can.” Van said, shifting to the edge of his seat.

“Van, you know me well. If I was still in service, I'd already have my rifle loaded,” Kyrian said, his voice tight, the familiar quaver toning down. “But I'm not. I got a wife. I have two daughters upstairs. If I help you do something, against the government, I don't know what will happen to them. But I know it won't be good. He turned back to Van, his eyes fierce with resolve. “Like you said, see what they did to you. No offence.”

The tension that followed was laden with the weight of their shared history.

He looked at Kyrian, Van clearly understood.

Van slowly set his untouched drink on the counter next to Kyrian’s.

“Fair. You made the right call”

“That’s not what it feels like”

Van said nothing. They both stood up. Kyrian walked him to the door.

“You don't have to explain it to me," Van said quietly, calmly “You're doing exactly what you're supposed to do. You protect them. You do that.”

Kyrian paused with his hand on the knob.

“If you need money. If you need-”

“I don't”

“Van,”

“I'll be fine.”

Kyrian nodded even though he knew what that meant.

“So, where will you go? What will you do now?”

“You, my friend, don't have to worry about that,” Van replied simply. He went out the door, leaving the warmth of the living room behind.

But he stopped.

“What is it?” Kyrian asked. The familiar quaver was back.

Van looked across the street. A sedan was parked there. It wasn't his and it had tinted windows. He looked to the left two houses down from Kyrian’s. A man was watering the lawn.

In the rainy season?

Kyrian was following his gaze. He saw it too. His face went still.

“I didn't,” Kyrian said, shaking his head.

“I know,” Van said, still looking around from where he stood.

“You need to go. Now,” Kyrian said.

“Yeah,” Van concurred.

The door clicked shut behind him, the sun was beginning to set, scattering streaks of pink and amber light. He began the long walk down the manicured driveway. He kept his head down, forcing himself to walk past the estate’s gate at a steady, unassuming pace.

But as he passed the edge of Kyrian's property line, his eyes caught a flash of bright color resting near the hedgerow.

It was a child's bicycle.

It lay carelessly abandoned on its side in the grass.

Where had he seen it before? Then he remembered.

Van stopped. For a moment he was back on his street. The deafening roar of an explosion and the sound of shattering glass echoed faintly in his head.

The sedan from across the street pulled out slowly. It didn't follow him. It just drove past.

They weren't here for him.

Kyrian?

Van kept walking. He didn't look back.

But he felt it.

The same wrongness.

The same moment before everything came crashing down.