Familia Tenebrae Amor/FTA fiction/timeline
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
GUNNERGIRL: TIMELINE
(Twenty-five (?) years ago)
The small child with the flaming hair cowered under the blankets, trying to hide from the noise of the storm. Short, scrawny, it was hard to tell even if she was a boy or a girl. "Small for her age", all the teachers said, though noone seemed to know exactly what that age was. SHE certainly didn't.
She knew she hated thunder, but could never say why. Maybe it had something to do with the nightmare, the one with the strangers she called "Mommy" and "Daddy", the one that ended with the flash and the loud noise. She had talked to Dr. Taneyev about the dream, talked and talked and talked, and it almost never came now. She knew it was a silly dream- she didn't HAVE a mommy and daddy, that's why she lived at Angel Heart with all the other orphans. But she still hated thunder...
Another bolt, nearby, accompanied by an instant, earsplitting crash. Antonia couldn't help herself, this time- she whimpered aloud, into her pillow.
Leslie heard. Leslie always seemed to know when she was hurt, or needed help. Leslie was her roommate, her friend, her guardian- she protected Antonia from the bullies at Angel Heart, even the boys. Leslie was older, tough, funny, pretty; Antonia wanted to be like her when she grew up.
Leslie was sitting on the edge of Antonia's bed, now, patting her head through the bunched-up sheets. "S'ok, Toni, just a rainstorm. Loud though, ain't it?"
Antonia peeked out from under her covers, and tried to smile. "Sorry I woke you, Leslie. I KNOW I'm a dummy, but thunder 'n lightning always just creep me out so much..."
The older girl smiled back, just visible in the light coming through the window. "Hey, ev'ryone's scareda SOMETHING. When I was your age I was TERRIFIED of bugs, all kinds."
Toni crawled a little further out of her cotton fortress. "REALLY? I think bugs are COOL!"...and they talked and laughed, the older girl calming the younger, until the storm passed.
(Twenty-three years ago)
The fancy grey car dropped Toni at the front door of a HUGE house, a place like something from a magazine. A man, dressed all in black, picked up her small bag. took her hand, and led her inside.
Waiting for her in the living room- cool room, but like, MUSTY old furniture- was about the oldest guy Toni had ever seen, but not saggy-old. Like one of those Pilates guys in a magazine ad, all muscley and hard. His voice was kinda soft, but seemed to carry. "Hello, miss Calazza. Welcome to the Manor. You can call me General."
Something about him kinda creeped Toni out, made her self-conscious. "I've, like, seen you, somewhere, haven't I...sir? At Angel Heart?"
The old man exchanged SOME kind of look with the guy who had led her in. "Very good, Antonia. Yes, I have been to Angel Heart on occasion. I like to...keep tabs on the progress of the students there"
"How come? Are you one of the teachers, or, like, their boss, or something?"
The General smiled a bit. "Let us say...we work together on occasion. They tell me when they find someone...special...amongst their charges." The smile got wider, but somehow Toni liked it even less..."and YOU, miss Calazza, are a VERY special young lady, indeed..."
(Seventeen years ago)
This time when she sat up, startled awake by the storm, it was easy to tell she was a girl. Still skinny, she had grown, filled out, shed a great deal of adolescent awkwardness. She still hated thunder, though. And now there was no Leslie to hold her hand, talk her through her fear.
Leslie was dead. Killed for stumbling on the secret that was now Toni's life. And Toni had had a hand in her death...she was beginning to forget the sound of her friend's voice, and she hated herself for it.
She got up, stretched, dragged on some clothes from the pile on her dresser. Great. Another 6-mile run in the rain, followed by hand-to-hand training. In the rain. Oh well, at least breakfast was usually good.
After the run, she was, of course, soaked to the skin. She would have been completely miserable if she hadn't long since learned to ignore discomfort, work through pain- in fact, basically suppress any and all emotions that might get in the way of doing her job. But now it looked like today was REALLY gonna suck.
Trainer Drew was doing hand-to-hand today. Drew was a burly, no-neck guy from somewhere away South, with a real small brain, but a real big chip on his shoulder to make of for it. He WAS an excellent teacher, else he wouldn't be at the Manor. Karate, savate, Judo, Muy Thai...if it existed as a martial art, he knew at least SOMETHNG about it.
Only one problem: for some reason he HATED Toni.
"Late t'day, Calazza. `Samatter, the work gettin' too tough for ya, little girl?" Toni ignored him, knew any response would just put him in an even pissier mood. He grunted. "Take yer position. Block, dodge `n kick today. Hands behind".
Toni stepped into an "at ease" brace, wrists locked behind her, legs slightly apart. Took a deep breath, started to relax...
WHAM! Drew's size 13 boot crashed into her gut, knocking her down, gagging. "SLOW, Calazza! Think me or anyone else's gonna wait for you ta get all comfy? Get yer ass back in position."
Toni hauled herself up, still retching, started to resume her brace- and Drew was already launching his next attack. Sick as she was, though, she had expected it, danced back, sideways, JUST avoiding his foot, managing in the process to get back into position. Drew grunted again, and started the lesson in earnest.
He was ALWAYS a bastard to his students, and Toni understood and kind of respected it. In their business, there were no friendly bouts- an opponent wasn't going to let up just because you fell down, or started to bleed. The fight ended when one of you wasn't moving...but Drew was really pushing the limits today. His swings were full-out, not pulled short, as she could tell when he connected. Plus, he had already ignored the first rest break, looked like he was planning on just running her to death. He might succeed, too- she hadn't really recovered yet from that first shot to the gut, and things were a bit swimmy.
It was when he tossed a rock at her head that she lost her temper. This was SUPPOSED to be kick and block, not all out. She ducked, and he kicked her legs from under her. She rolled, popped up, sank into a crouch, focused...and on his next attack pulled off a PERFECT combination: pivot, knee block, snap kick RIGHT into his chest. He went down...
He stayed on the ground for a second, an odd smile on his face. "Well, well. Not bad, bitch. Maybe you been payin' attention after all. Maybe you think yer ready for the real thing?" And he came up in a roll, blinding fast...
If she had been a bit slower, she would've lost the eye. She had never even seen him pull the knife from his belt, just felt it burn across her cheekbone, heard one of the senior trainers shouting "Drew, what the FUCK you doing?"...
(Fourteen years ago)
The man was dark-complexioned, with sparkly eyes. He held out his had..."Hi. Alain Montgomery. I'm one of the tactical wonks here. You'll be hearing my voice in your head a lot out in the field. Welcome to Central". She took his hand, felt...something...pass between them, smiled warmly. "Liz. Liz Alastair. Nice to meet you, Alain"...
(Twelve years ago)
It was a near-perfect op, in and out. The local strongman who had been blocking the peace process was in custody, his militia wiped out almost to the last man. She took off her helmet, splashed a little water over her head, then hopped into the back of the APC for the ride home. Saw motion out of the corner of her eye...someone was UNCUFFING the jerk they had just shot the place up to catch! She turned back...
Drovas was pointing his rifle at her chest. "I should put these in your heart. But you've got a nice pair of boobs, I'd hate to mess them up. So this'll do the trick..." dropped his aim, pulled the trigger..
Sometime later, she knew she was not dead, because she saw the shadow stoop over her. Hands, lifting, water, bandages, a voice "Goddamit, get me Medivac NOW, we got a live one..."
(Eleven years ago)
She realized now that the General had only SEEMED old when she first met him, looked that way to her young eyes. Now he really WAS old, aged not only by raw time, but by the stresses of the job. As they all had been...
"I'm pulling you from the team, Calazza."
Her eyes went wide in shock, then anger, before she burst out, "WHAT? Why? I'm recovered, I'm FINE, I'm ready to go back to work!"
"The field exercise..."
"Was PERFECT." She slapped the top of his desk. "The target was eliminated and the material recovered in what you YOURSELF said was a record run. DAMMIT, boss, why are you doing this. I NEED to get back to work..."
"CALLAZA SHUT THE FUCK UP!". She froze, open-mouthed, astonished. The Old Man never swore, never raised his voice. He continued, more quietly. "The field exercise, Calazza, was a freaking DISASTER."
"I got the job done..." He refused to let her finish. "And you got the rest of your team KILLED, goddammit! You broke tactical cohesion, you ignored requests for backup...you are the ONLY one who walked out of it, Calazza. If it had been a real op, I'd be burying five agents right now!" She squirmed, would not meet his eyes. She knew he was right, at least in part, but..."Antonia...you have to trust your teammates, and they HAVE to be able to trust you. Or people end up hurt."
"Trust" , she snorted, still looking away.
He sighed, walked around his desk, took her face in his hands. "Toni...I know what the...event...with Alain did to you, but..." She yanked her face away, spoke bitterly. " Did to me? It almost KILLED me, General. Twice. Once right here within these walls. Right under YOUR nose! Who the hell are you to talk to me about trust?"
He stepped back, anger resurfacing. "True enough. But you knew from the getgo that the job was dangerous. I won't have you make it more so for the rest of my people. You're off team ops, Calazza, and that's final."
She slumped, closed her eyes. "So, that's it, huh? You've used me up, used up my life, and now it's `go play in an office, Toni?' Or maybe..." She looked up, right into his eyes. "...maybe a cup of cocoa? Like Leslie? Better give it to me yourself, boss, if that's it. `Cause you're right, I DON'T trust anyone here, not anymore."
Something passed across his face, as if he had swallowed something nasty. For a second he looked even older, so tired..."Don't be stupid, Calazza. You're too valuable, too skilled, to eliminate or stick in an office. We're making you a Lobo." The girl cocked her head, looked puzzled. "A lone agent. Special assignments, special gear. Stuff too touchy or too wild for a team op to be viable. You report directly to me, you get all your tactical data directly from me. You requisition assets and equipment directly from me. The only person you need to trust other than yourself- is me. And once you walk out the door for a gig, you don't even need to trust me. You call in when it's done, or if you need something. No oversight, no ops reports, no paperwork. For all intents and purposes, as far as even Unit is concerned, you're a ghost. If you can't trust your coworkers, well, fine. You won't have any. Can you handle that?"
For the first time in a long time, the gaunt redhead smiled...
(Nine years ago)
Darla Montez sat up in bed, tried to make out the form moving in her room..."Callista? What?". The redhead switched on the light, and only then did Montez see the gun. "Ah. So that's it. Cold, Callista, but it explains a lot. Like why you're so shy in bed. You never gave a damn about me did you? I hope you die lonely, bitch!"
In the muzzle flash, just for an instant, it looked like she had Leslie's face...
(Eight years ago)
Despite offering a truly stupendous bounty, the coalition of European organized crime families that called itself the Diamond Families never did discover who had assassinated six of their highest-ranking leaders in the space of only three weeks. The only lead they ever had was the sudden disappearance of the girlfriend of one of their middle-ranking executives, a skinny but quite striking blonde who had called herself Annie...
(Seven years ago)
The fires in the harbor held the attention of everyone, the smoke pouring off the three great burning tankers. All three had exploded practically simultaneously, and the blazing wrecks were now blocking the harbor entrance, and would be for some time.
In the chaos, noone noticed the greasy, redheaded foreigner who climbed naked from the water at one of the smaller piers.
(Five years ago)
Unit had been joking for a long time that the General must have sold his soul to the devil to have lived so long.
And when he described her next assignment, she knew it was true...."You've GOT to be kidding me!"
His voice was barely audible. She tried to convinced herself that he had a conscience, that he hated this idea as much as she did, that he would repent...but she knew in her heart that it was just that he was old, weak, and ill. In the name of "the good of civilization", he would do ANYTHING, however heinous. This was the same "good" that had killed Leslie, and given her so many nightmares..."the government of the Republic will not let us move against Initiative forces on their soil without a great provocation. We need to give them that provocation. I know it's not a military target...
"It's a fucking SCHOOL General, full of kids. Y'know, little people? Future citizens, like the ones at Angel Heart? Like me, and Leslie, and all the others..."
"Don't try to lecture me, Calazza. I have little time or strength left, and less patience, especially for sentiment." He coughed, raggedly, for a moment. "Will you do your job, or won't you?"
She looked at his eyes, already peering halfway over death's rim, and knew that if she refused, she would die before he would. She could not speak, merely nodded, and then looked at the floor.
"Good. Good. I have always relied on you, Antonia, for the most unpleasant assignments. You may not see it so, but it is a mark of my respect for you, my...love...if you will. You have been the nearest thing to a daughter I could have ever hoped to have. Do not fail me now, my dear. My time is almost spent..." She walked out as he hacked convulsively into his handkerchief.
And kept right on walking. Daughter, my ass...
(Two months ago)
So there she stood, jet blast whipping grit into her freshly washed hair, as she waited for Burke's "special package" to step off the shuttle. She nearly lost it when the girl with almost Leslie's face walked down the ramp...
