Chapter 649: Chapter 649: What’s The Situation? (Part 4)

Don watched the silver helicopter descend carefully toward the helipad through the compound lights.

It moved differently from the Aegis-9 strikers.

Smoother.

Quieter.

The aircraft itself looked narrower along the body, its silver exterior reflecting portions of the rooftop floodlights in muted streaks while dark reinforced windows concealed most of the interior.

Unlike the heavily armed UPSDF transports, this one carried no visible missile systems or mounted rotary cannons beneath the frame.

It looked expensive.

The rotors slowed gradually as the landing skids lowered toward the pad.

The rooftop vibrated lightly beneath the touchdown.

Nearby UPSDF soldiers barely reacted beyond brief glances toward the arriving craft while others continued securing nearby rooftops and guiding equipment deeper into SHQ.

Across the compound, more helicopters still moved through the darkening skyline while searchlights swept slowly across sections of the place.

The sun had almost fully disappeared now.

Only a thin strip of dull orange remained visible far beyond the towers of Santos City while smoke drifted upward in massive dark columns beneath the coming night.

Every now and then, flashes of gunfire still lit distant streets below the compound walls.

The silver helicopter’s side door opened immediately.

More officers stepped out in quick formation.

Don noticed the similarity almost instantly.

Not identical to K-4 and Olynk.

But close enough.

Silver themed uniforms reinforced beneath tactical plating. Cleaner equipment. More controlled movement.

Their posture carried the same restrained alertness K-4 had shown since Don first met him.

One moved first toward the UPSDF striker while another remained near the silver helicopter entrance, scanning the rooftop perimeter calmly.

Inside the UPSDF cabin, one of the pilots turned partially toward them.

"That’s your transport," he said through the cabin speaker system. "You are cleared for transfer."

Another pilot immediately spoke into the communication line overhead.

"Control, Valkyrie-Four. Hand-off currently in progress. Priority asset transfer confirmed."

Static crackled briefly.

"Copy Valkyrie-Four. Transfer acknowledged."

The line cut afterward.

Don unstrapped himself first and stepped out onto the rooftop.

Cold air immediately rolled across his face beneath the rotor wash while loose dust and ash skittered across the concrete around his boots.

Behind him, K-4 hauled Olynk upright again with one arm locked beneath the larger man’s shoulder.

Olynk barely looked conscious enough to walk properly, though his boots still moved when guided forward.

Charles managed on his own.

Barely.

One wing dragged lower than before while the other remained folded tight against his back, twitching faintly every few seconds beneath the floodlights.

His face still looked pale beneath the dried blood around his jaw and collar, though his expression had settled back into something calmer now.

Or at least colder.

The approaching officers met them halfway across the rooftop.

No introductions came.

One simply gestured toward the silver helicopter. "This way."

The group moved immediately.

Behind them, the UPSDF strikers continued lifting away from nearby rooftops one after another while replacement formations crossed overhead through the darkened sky.

Rotor noise rolled continuously through the compound alongside distant bursts of gunfire echoing from deeper sections of Santos City.

Even here, the city still sounded alive.

Don stepped into the silver helicopter last.

And immediately recognized the interior.

Luxurious cabin seating lined both sides beneath soft recessed lighting built directly into the walls.

Dark polished surfaces reflected portions of the overhead glow while reinforced storage compartments remained seamlessly hidden beneath the cleaner design.

Even the restraints looked expensive.

It looked more like a private aircraft than military transport.

Charles lowered himself into one of the seats slowly, one hand pressing briefly against his ribs as he settled back.

His expression tightened for a second before smoothing again.

The officers immediately moved around him and Olynk.

One unfolded a compact scanner no larger than a tablet before running blue diagnostic lines across Charles’ chest and neck.

Another opened a hardened silver case filled with injector cartridges, fluid packs and monitoring equipment arranged in perfect rows.

Near Olynk, two more operatives worked quickly. One attached small circular sensors along his neck while another checked his pupils using a thin penlight device before preparing some form of injector near his arm.

Don and K-4 received far less attention.

Only brief glances.

One woman approached them while securing gloves around her hands.

"What’s your condition?" she asked quickly.

"Our hearing was damaged," Don answered while lowering himself into the seat nearest the side wall. "Mine’s slightly healed."

The woman nodded immediately.

"Please take these," she said in a rushed but still polite tone. "They should reduce pain and accelerate recovery."

She reached into another compartment and pulled out several sealed recovery packs before handing them over.

Don accepted his casually before passing one toward K-4.

The older officer opened it immediately with familiar motions.

Inside sat two matte gray capsules secured in clear plastic beside a thin injector tube filled with pale blue liquid.

Small condensation droplets clung faintly to the inner casing like the serum had been kept cold.

Don copied K-4 after watching him for half a second.

The capsules tasted bitter almost instantly.

Then came the injector.

A sharp press against the wrist.

A cold pulse spread upward through Don’s arm immediately afterward.

His body stiffened slightly against the seat.

The sensation rolled through him strangely fast. Coolness spread beneath his skin first, then across his chest and neck before reaching the base of his skull.

A faint blur touched the edges of his vision briefly while pressure inside his ears shifted unevenly.

Then came the tingling.

It spread deep behind both ears alongside tiny pulses that almost resembled static crawling beneath the skin.

And slowly—

His hearing sharpened.

Not fully.

But enough.

Rotor noise outside separated cleaner. Voices stopped sounding buried underwater. Even the faint hum of the cabin systems became clearer by the second.

It felt strange.

Artificial.

But effective.

Beside him, K-4 exhaled heavily through his nose before shaking his head once like he was forcing the sensation away manually.

Across from them, Charles grimaced much harder.

His jaw tightened visibly while one hand curled against the armrest beneath the scanning equipment attached near his neck.

For several long seconds, his breathing remained uneven while one of the operatives injected another dose into his arm.

Then suddenly—

It passed.

Charles opened his eyes again and immediately focused on the nearest officer.

"Just nod yes or no to what I ask," he said tiredly. "My hearing will take some time to recover."

He didn’t wait for acknowledgement.

"Is the Monclaire network still available?"

The officer nodded once.

Another operative injecting medication into Charles’ arm spoke without looking up. "Though all forms of surveillance access have been restricted."

Charles stared at the ceiling briefly.

Then sighed weakly.

"I take it the UPSDF only helped due to grandmother dearest..." His eyes shifted sideways slightly. "Or perhaps Uncle Philip?"

The officer near him gave a small shrug.

Charles closed his eyes for a second longer than necessary.

"...right," he muttered quietly. "You wouldn’t know."

His head leaned back against the seat afterward while rotor vibrations hummed faintly beneath the cabin floor.

"It’s fine then," he added weakly. "I know who to ask the rest of these questions."

Don remained silent and allowed the cooling sensation spreading through his body to settle properly.

Outside the reinforced windows, SHQ slowly shrank beneath the helicopter as the aircraft lifted back into the night sky.

Far below, portions of Santos City still burned beneath drifting smoke clouds while scattered emergency lights flickered between ruined streets.

The sky had gone almost fully dark now.

Only the final remains of sunset lingered faintly beyond the horizon like dying embers pressed beneath the clouds.

Minutes passed quietly inside the cabin.

Equipment hummed softly while operatives continued monitoring Charles and Olynk’s condition through shifting displays and injector readings.

Occasionally the helicopter tilted slightly while adjusting course through the skyline, causing shadows inside the cabin to slide across the walls beneath the dim lighting.

Then Charles looked toward Don suddenly.

"Oh," he said quietly, like the thought had only just reached him. "Please hand him a new comms device and reconnect him to the network with open-network privilege."

One of the officers hesitated briefly at that.

Only briefly.

Then another operative moved toward a storage compartment and retrieved a slim black communications earpiece alongside a compact wrist-linked module.

Don accepted them without comment.

The moment he secured the comms properly against his ear, he activated the line.

"Winter?"

A few seconds passed.

Then her voice returned immediately.

"Yes?"

The response came so cleanly now that Don almost paused from the difference alone.

"Apologies," Winter continued. "I had temporarily lost access to the network. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Don replied while leaning back slightly into the seat. "No worries. Think it had something to do with the UPSDF presence or something. Doesn’t matter. Is there something I should be aware of? How’s everyone doing?"

Outside the window, another military helicopter crossed beneath them through the dark skyline.

Winter answered quickly.

"They’re worried," she said. "But they’ll stabilize once they learn your condition. Your mother keeps requesting updates, so I’ve had to... subtract truth multiple times."

Don rubbed faint dried blood from the side of his jaw using his thumb.

"That’s fine."

Then his eyes shifted toward the city beneath them again.

"...and is there anything I should be aware of?"

Winter answered immediately this time.

"Yes. You received a voicemail on your private line from Ashlynn. Here it is."

A brief pause followed.

Then the recording played.

Ash’s voice came through unevenly beneath background noise.

"Hey uhm boss!! Shit—"

Static crackled violently through the message.

"I didn’t know who else to call so if you get— fuck—"

More static followed.

Then gunshots.

Distant screaming.

Her voice returned immediately afterward, tighter now.

"My apartment building is being overrun, I can’t get out... gonna—"

Another burst of gunfire interrupted her.

"...gonna try and go to the bunker... please send help or something or let people know there’s people here..."

Her breathing sounded rough.

Actually frightened.

"Please..."

The message ended.

The cabin remained quiet afterward aside from the low hum of the helicopter engine.

Outside, Santos City stretched endlessly beneath the darkness while isolated fires continued burning across entire districts below.

Then Winter spoke again.

"What would you like to do?"