She sat in a wooden chair, exactly where they said she would be. Her body slumped to the side, one hand held a pistol the other just hung to the ground. Sev and others held their guns on her just as a precaution, they didn’t trust the communications completely. He imagined she didn’t exactly trust them either. Her name was Olive Kranov, the grand daughter of General Kranov.

There were rumors that Olive Kranov lead a rebel group of soldiers against her grandfather, killing her own men as she moved through the city. None of this made sense. There were other rumors that she rose to the top of the military without his help pretending to fight for his cause while in the shadows building her own army, Sev and his men were about to find out how good this soldier really was and if she was really a ally of the United Front.

Sev turned to his men and motioned for them to lower their weapons, except Lt. Donovan, to show trust in this person. “Olive Kranov, if that is you remove your helmet and mask and put down your weapon.”

Olive knew either way, with our without a weapon her life was going to be determined by these men. She had been calling out SOS messages at every post she found, what ever radio the UF could hear. Her men were in trouble, there were just too many Byzantes to hold off anymore and she was wounded and each post she raided was wiped out of medical supplies. If she waited too long the wounds would be infected, she could already feel the fever taking over.

So she dropped the gun, she could faintly hear the medal hit the wooden floor. Her ears ran still from a flash bomb hit that occurred hours before.

As she slowly unclasped the helmet and removed the pure oxygen respirator from her face she could already see the surprise on the UF soldiers’ faces. Her shaggy hair dropped from the helmet and she could feel a warm stream of blood rush down her forehead.

“Yes I am Olive Kranov, and who is going to help me kill my grandfather?”

This bold statement was no example however of the physical situation Olive was in, she knew of at least two bullet wounds in her back and chest, she could feel the wind fleeing from every breath she took without the respirator.

Sev motioned for the medic to tend to her wounds. He never realized how different General Kranov’s grand daughter would be from him.

“I know, you were expecting a full blooded Byzantes, not human. I’m a hybrid of sorts, no matter I appreciate the help. I think however, we should leave this joint soon, the radio was swarming with troops more than you can handle at this moment.”