There was a knock on the door of the orphanage, echoing solemnly through the building. Grumbling, the caretaker opened the door to show two soldiers swaying on their feet at the doorstep, illuminated by the light of the full moon. Even as the caretaker allowed them in, one of the two soldiers collapsed from exhaustion. Stooping low, his comrade helped him up and mumbled something incoherent to him.
One of the orphans had come down from their rooms to investigate the noise. The caretaker clicked her fingers at the child and told him to fetch the first aid supplies. More orphans were coming down now and the caretaker ordered them back into bed.
The first orphan handed the first aid kit to the caretaker, who helped the two men into chairs before looking at the various wounds on the soldiers. It was then that she finally understood the mumblings of the two men.
“Must get Leto Anthea, must get Leto Anthea,” they kept mumbling. The caretaker applied a pressure bandage to a gunshot wound before sending the orphan who had brought the first-aid kit back to bed.
She stood up straight and addressed the two men, “What’s this about Leto?”
The less injured man had been drifting into sleep before Leto’s name was mentioned, “Leto? B-” he coughed and spat blood, “Bring her here.”
“I will do no such thin- Leto go back to bed!” the caretaker said.
A teenage girl had appeared in the doorway between the dorms and the foyer, clad in a smock that may have once been white but was now a dull grey. Her shoulder-length brown hair was held in place by a headband that could have been a vivid yellow once, but was at that moment faded and worn. “I heard my name?”
The matron was cross now, “No, you didn’t. go back to bed, Leto,” she said, still looking for injuries on the two men.
The more injured one snapped wide awake from the pain as the caretaker extracted a bullet with a pair of tweezers. He saw Leto and motioned her closer. Grudgingly the caretaker called Leto over, “Five minutes while I call an ambulance,” she told the child, who nodded, curious.
Leto walked over to the two men, “Hello Mr…” she looked quizzically at the soldiers for their names. The more injured one pointed at the name stitched into his breast pocket, Sharkface, then attempted to point at his partner’s, failing and slipping into unconsciousness.
“I’m Slash,” the still conscious one said, “And he’s Sharkface.”
Leto nodded, “You wanted me?” she tilted her head to emphasise the question. Her head was full of questions. Real life soldiers, just like she imagined her mother and father were before they dumped her here. She didn’t even know their names. She had been found on the doorstep with a card reading ‘Leto Anthea Zoe’ in the basket with her.
“Your father,” Slash said, groaning as the caretaker came back and told them five minutes was up, “What clock are you using? it’s barely been thirty seconds,” Slash said, irritated.
“Fine, the ambulance is on its way and I’ve got to admit I’m interested to see what you want with the orphan girl,” the caretaker said, “Well, go on!”
“Her father,” Slash paused and spat blood again, much to the Caretaker’s disgust, “was a great man. He was-”
“You knew my father?” Leto said, now excited, “Tell me, what was he like? Who was He? Why did he leave me here? What wa-”
Leto was given a sharp reprimand by the matron, “Leto, maybe if you are patient Mr Slash will tell you,” she said, before turning to Slash, “Watch what you tell her. If you’re lying you’ll have more than those injuries to deal with.”
Slash forced a grimace through in amusement at the threat, “My buddy here, Sharkface, fought for your father. He knows more about him than I, who fought first against, then with, your mother,” Again, he spat blood out, “We need to take you to her. Your father saved Sharky and I both, giving his life doing so.”
Leto fell to the ground, “No,” she sobbed, “he can’t die before I meet him.” The caretaker stooped down and called for a couple of orphans to bring a blanket down. Then a vehicle pulled up outside and paramedics rushed to the door and came in.
Slash insisted that they fix them up here and that hospitalization was not necessary for them, but was ignored by the paramedics. They put the two soldiers into the back of the ambulance and drove to the hospital.
The next two days passed in a blur for Leto while the caretaker sorted through all the files she had for information on Leto, but aside from incident reports she had written herself, the only things she had on Leto was the card reading her name that had been left with her and the document that she had put together trying to find Leto’s parents years earlier. There were no hospitals nearby that reported the birth of a ‘Leto Anthea Zoe’ or the death of a Zoe around the time she had been abandoned. The cemetery likewise had nothing on any Zoe families and she was missing from the Office of Births, Marriages and Deaths database completely.
A knock on the door made her put the files down and open it. Slash looked up at her while Sharkface scanned the street behind him. They were still in the bloodstained combat fatigues when they had met first at midnight and delivered the news. The caretaker let the two soldiers in, “Should I call Leto or not just yet?”
The two men sat down in the same chairs that they had two nights prior and once again Leto, her sharp ears picking up her name, was immediately in the foyer doorway. Her eyes were red and she had dark bags under her eyes, “Slash… Sh-S-Sharkface?”
It was Sharkface that motioned Leto over, “I think I have a few things for you,” he said, sitting Leto on the chair next to him, “I owe it to you to explain in full how your father died.”
With the nod from the caretaker, Sharkface began his tale. “To start the story, we need to go back to when your father and I first met,” he said softly, “We met ten years ago, nearly to the day. It was in a hell of a place called Afghanistan. We were all in an operation, codenamed Anaconda. We were pinned down in a tiny depression in the ground, called Hell’s Half-pipe, we were low on ammu- bullets,” he said, simplifying the terms down for the child, who was listening intently, “And your father and I fought together nonstop for nearly a full day. Even a pair of gunships couldn’t take the pressure off of us. We didn’t even know each other’s name. When I was caught in an explosion, your father didn’t hesitate to run out in full view of everyone and dragged ol’ screaming me back into that ditch.” Sharkface reached up and pulled the mask off of his face, showing the half-melted flesh beneath.
Leto stared in half-fascination, half-horror at the face that was lost in memory. Slash was looking the other way, “Where were you, Slash?” she asked.
“I was on the other side of the world doing Private Military work,” he responded, “Now shh, listen to Sharkface.”
Sharkface nodded, “When your father and I got out of that hellhole we were in hospital for days. I thanked him for saving me and then requested a transfer into his unit so I could have a chance to return the favor. We went through more firefights together than you can imagine, so many I struggle to recall any specific one except Anaconda and the other night,” he paused before continuing, “in one of them we came upon someone calling herself ‘Dragon’ who was on one side of a war, and we were on the other. We were doing our job and your father just couldn’t pull the trigger for some reason. We were pressed for time and he left her on the ground without a wound as we pulled out.”
“My mother?” Leto asked.
“Yeah, eventually,” Sharkface said, “But before she was your mother, she was an anomaly. Nobody could figure out why your dad couldn’t shoot her. The gun was full and not jammed, your father was one of the most efficient people in the whole damn force…”
Fifteen years ago…
“Sharkface, on me!” Yellowjacket ‘Jak’ Smith said as Sharkface pressed a grenade into his hand as they prepared to breach the building, “Everyone else, spread out, leave no survivors, you see someone that’s not us, shoot them,” he said to a chorus of ‘yes, sir’s.
Sharkface blasted the door’s lock with the shotgun, blowing a hole in the door that the grenade went through, detonating in an inferno of shrapnel. Jak kicked the door open and the team stormed into the building. In teams of two the SAS put down the resistance in the warehouse.
Without waiting for the others, Sharkface breached another room with his shotgun and came face to face with a woman standing over the bodies of two of Jak’s men. The woman had a flamethrower in her hands and a shotgun over her back. Without hesitation both raised their weapons and fired.
Sharkface was caught in a raging fireball as the woman ducked the slug round. When the fire on his clothes had subsided he ripped off his helmet and mask to reveal his face, “You really think I’m scared of fire?” he said, firing another slug at the woman, who raised the flamethrower. The slug hit the weapon and wrenched it out of her hands, another slug going through the fuel line. She took the shotgun off her back and whirled it around to face Sharkface
“You seem bright. Shame I have to kill you,” the woman said, firing the shotgun virtually point blank into Sharkface’s chest armor.
There was a yell of rage before someone jumped over him and tackled the woman, taking her by surprise. Sharkface rolled to his feet and drew his pistol as Jak stood up, one foot pinning the woman to the ground, one hand levelling a rifle at her head, “Kill my men, eh?” he yelled before the fit of rage subsided, “I’ll show you…” he trailed off.
“Jak, just shoot her,” Sharkface said, pulling the slide of his pistol back just enough to show the woman that a bullet was in it, but not enough to eject the shell.
There was no response from Jak as the hand holding the rifle began shaking. Breathing hard, he steadied the weapon with his other hand and rested the barrel on the woman’s forehead, “I…” he was breathing hard and fast now, “I…” he stood up and took the barrel off of the woman’s head, “I can’t.”
Sharkface levelled his pistol at the woman.
“Sharkface, stand down, that’s an order,” Jak said, slinging the rifle over his shoulders, “Now help me with these bodies.”
Sharkface holstered the pistol and recovered his shotgun before dragging the other body out after Jak, with a final look, saw the woman was just as bewildered as he was.
Present day…
“Your mother nearly killed me that day, and I just couldn’t understand your father’s behaviour. He didn’t want to talk about it, and he never had qualms about killing anything that had a gun, be it man, woman or child,” Sharkface said to the child sitting next to him.
“What were their names?” Leto asked in a hushed tone, deeply moved by Sharkface’s tale.
“Your father was simply known as Jak. That’s what we called him, just like everybody calls me Sharkface, or why everyone calls Slash, Slash. Formally though, his name was Yellowjacket. Yellowjacket Smith.”
Leto thought this over for several seconds, “Leto… Anthea… Smith?” she said slowly, rolling the words around, testing them.
“Doesn’t quite sound right, does it?” Slash asked her, “No, you were your mother’s child, not your father’s, although from the looks of you, you can hold your own like your father.”
Sharkface continued, “Anyway, your mother was an anomaly, and with two deaths on that mission an incident report was filed, covering your father’s inability to shoot. Five months later we ran into her again. Two months later, same thing. Before long we were running into her on every mission,” he said, sighing, “It became like a game. We would floor her on one mission and spare her, and on another she would spare us. Eventually we met each other when we were all out of ammo and we talked it out.”
“And?” Leto asked Sharkface, “what happened?”
Sharkface grinned, his melted flesh making it look like a grimace. He put his mask back on and said, “Well, after talking it out, we agreed that she could change sides with no punishment for previous actions. Then your father got to know her more and eventually… you know… became your father instead of just another soldier,” he said, once again not going too much into detail.
“And how did my father die?” Leto asked.
Sharkface and Slash both answered, “In a blaze of glory.” Slash continued, “Skipping the part of how I became part of the unit, we were walking around the city, just Sharkie, your father and I, and we came across a drug deal in progress. Your father hated drugs and we decided to jump them…”
Two nights ago…
Jak held up his left fist as he stopped on the opposite side of the alley, the universal military signal to halt. He took the two men to the side and told them that there was something he wanted to check. Keeping low and out of what little light the night gave, he moved behind a dumpster and couldn’t believe what he heard. He instinctively reached for his pistol, only to remember it was back at base.
He had came across a drug deal.
Sharkface and Slash moved up with Jak, and heard the same thing. Changing hands was Twelve kilogram-bricks of cocaine and easily the same amount of other drugs. Jak picked a brick up off the ground and broke cover, walking boldly towards the dealers with a cement brick in his hands. The dealers looked at him incredulously.
“I think that’s enough. Now, if you’ll be so kind as to drop the drugs in the ocean I will not even tell the police about it,” he said, hefting the brick.
The two dealers pulled out automatic pistols and aimed them at Jak. Slash broke cover and dove in the line of fire as the first shots were fired and Jak threw the brick, which smashed straight into the first dealer’s gun hand, causing him to drop the gun. The second dealer changed targets to the man who dove in the line of fire and hit him three times before the gun was fly-kicked out of his hand by Jak.
Sharkface rolled from cover and collected both pistols off the ground, tossing one to Jak as the gangs involved in the deals moved in to remove the threat. Jak moved the wounded Slash into cover while Sharkface scavenged an extra clip each for the guns.
“Hey Jak,” Sharkface said, “I think we fucked up,” he took cover as a sniper in the building opposite the alleyway opened fire.
Jak changed the gun to semi-automatic and took a potshot at the sniper, “Switch on my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”
The two swapped spots, Jak jumping over Sharkface while Sharkface rolled under Jak. The sniper fired and missed, unable to choose which one to shoot. While the sniper worked the bolt of the rifle both SAS men fired at the sniper with the pistols.
“Slash, get that car going and send a mayday over the radio!” Jak yelled, pointing to a parked car out of sight of the sniper. A van blocked the end of the alley and six men with assault rifles piled out, shooting at the SAS soldiers. Another van did the same to the other end.
Sharkface picked up a tin can from a dumpster and threw it around the corner, “Frag out!” he yelled to fool the deathsquad, who immediately took cover. While they were scrambling for cover from the ‘grenade’ Jak ran at them and engaged them with the machine pistol.
Slash got out of the car and gave them the thumbs up before staggering over to Sharkface and grabbing him for cover. Sharkface gave him the pistol and hoisted Slash up onto his back, “Shoot the fuckers!” he said running forward to join Jak, who had killed two of the deathsquad with the pistol, snapped one’s neck and was fighting a fourth. Two of the deathsquad were aiming at Jak but afraid to fire for fear of hitting their comrade.
The deathsquad at the opposite side of the alley had no such qualms, as the two deathsquads were from different gangs. They opened fire as Slash shot one of the first deathsquad through the head and Sharkface landed a punch so hard it broke the guy’s neck.
The three SAS soldiers grabbed an assault rifle each, with a spare slung over each of their backs. They returned fire at the deathsquad, giving more than they took. Sharkface was shot a large number of times, although few rounds penetrated the light armor vest he was wearing under his fatigues. A helicopter flew overhead and blinded the lot of them with a floodlight.
“This is the police. Everyone drop your weapons, now!” a loudspeaker on the helicopter blared.
Police cars swooped around each of the vans and officers moved in on the SAS and the deathsquad, not knowing who was what. Sharkface and Slash were holding their two assault rifles akimbo at the deathsquad.
The deathsquad opened fire at the SAS soldiers. Jak pushed his team to the ground, below the hailstorm of bullets. When the deathsquad’s rifles clicked empty the police swooped in and subdued them by sheer numbers.
Sharkface and Slash looked up at Jak as he seemed to collapse in slow motion, ragged holes running up his body, the deathsquad rifles easily punching through the light vest. Slash and Sharkface shook Jak, who was barely still alive, let alone conscious.
“Jak, stay with me! Medic! Someone fucking help!” Slash yelled at the nearest police officer while Sharkface held Jak in his arms as he lay dying.
“Sha-kfa-...” Jak mumbled, blood dribbling out his mouth as his lungs filled with blood. He reached into his breast pocket and handed Sharkface a letter, which would have once been bright pink, now stained red and full of holes, “Gib dis… to Leto…” he gagged on his blood and spat a mouthful out, “I’m dying… Tell…” he said, giving up. His eyes lost focus and Yellowjacket Smith breathed his last.
Present day…
“Then he gave me this,” Sharkface said as he pulled the letter out of a pocket, “It took a phone call to Dragon to find out what he meant by ‘Leto’ and she is not going to be happy when she finds out the whole story.”
Leto read the letter as best she could with the bloodstains and bullet-holes.
I know you’re broken down by anger and by sadness;
You feel I left you in a world that’s full of madness
Wish I could talk to you, if only for a minute;
Make you understand the reasons why I did it
I wanna tell you that you’re all that ever mattered;
Want you to know that, for eternity, I’m shattered
I tried so hard just to protect you, but I failed to
And in a prison of abandonment I’ve jailed you
I never planned that I would leave you there alone
I was sure that I would see you when I made it back home
And all the times I swore that it would be okay;
Now I’m nothing but a liar, and you're thrown into the fray
This bedtime story ends with misery ever after
The pages are torn, and there’s no final chapter
I didn’t have a choice, I did what I had to do;
I made a sacrifice, but forced a bigger sacrifice on you
I know you've lived a nightmare;
I caused you so much pain
But baby, please don’t do what I did;
I don’t want you to waste your life in vain
Leto, if you are reading this, then that means I have told someone about you, most likely Sharkface, or your mother had, in which case it will most likely be Slash. I am sorry that it had to come about like this. I desperately wanted to see my little girl grow up, but life in the military had a different idea. Working with my men was too much of a privilege to give up, and your mother… well, she’s your mother. She can’t exactly take time off work for you either. So we decided to put you where we knew you would be safe. You mightn’t like it, but if you’re reading this, then that plan at least partially worked.
My little girl, last time I saw you, you were barely two months old and I had a mission I had to be on. I planned to visit you every time I was home, but that couldn’t happen because then you would have a confirmed set of parents who are well-off, and that meant that either your mother or I had to lose our jobs. We kept you in the utmost secrecy.
I would like to have known you a lot better. If I gave this letter to Sharkface as a result of my death, then this will never be possible, and this will be my foremost regret.
If this letter reaches you as a result of either your mother or I retiring, then I will be around shortly to collect you. Unless you’d rather stay where you are, in which case, just tell Sharkface and he can tell me without one of us being heartbroken about it.
Lastly, about the name. We chose one for you that we knew would be untraceable. You can choose to keep it if you want, it is Greek for ‘Blossoming Flower of Life’ which is a little ironic considering yours truly here’s career path, eh?
Your Father,
Yellowjacket
PS: I love you.
THE END
Some stuff for anyone wanting to make the cover:
AUTHOR: Lachlan Day
TITTLE: The Hidden Child
SUBTITLE*::She never knew her parents... until now
SUMMARY*: Girl abandoned on the doorstep of Orphanage at 2 months old. She grew up not knowing who or what they were, despite the best efforts of the somewhat cranky caretaker/matron.
When she is a teenager, two soldiers with gunshot wounds stumble into the foyer in the middle of the night, and she hears her name mentioned by the soldiers and the Caretaker. She is down there like a flash and learns that her father was the CO of these two soldiers, and had died earlier in the night.
Two days later the soldiers come back from Hospital and answer all of the teenager's questions, with two scenes that recount how her father met her mother and how her father died. To top it off, one of the soldiers gives the young girl a letter to her from her father, found in his breast pocket. The letter contains a poem and an explanation
IDEAS: Maybe have a line separating the two storylines, have a baby in a basket on the top half with the bottom half being the battle of Hell's Halfpipe or something.
GENRE: Short Story/action/general (Not sci-fi for a change)
EXTRA INFORMATION*: The girl's name is Leto Anthea Zoe. The two soldiers are known as Sharkface and Slash. Sharkface wears a mask to cover up a melted face from an RPG blast in Operation Anaconda.
If possible I would like a number of potential covers or rough drafts, then for you to refine the one I choose
It was either paste as plain text and lose my formatting or paste as was and grimace at the broken tags you get when you copypaste something. I chose the plain text option.
And yeah, before anyone asks, I did use the RWBY song Red Like Roses for inspiration, hence the paste of some of the lyrics in Jak's letter to Leto
EDIT 3/2/16: I noticed I had Jak meeting Dragon five years ago when their child, Leto is at least twelve. Fixed.