Post by adrini on Feb 22, 2016 13:50:56 GMT -5
Ultimate Justice Society of America
Chapter 5: Darkness
By Adrini
The team is in good health again as Jay’s wounds have fully healed, including the deep leg wound that had kept him behind the lines. He still finds ways to help out and during a supply run finds out that he has been pulled into a team of Fate’s chosen. One that has no idea of its mission.
Zinda and Diana are continuing their work, including helping out the local team, but face a growing reality that they are known agents in the sky. Regardless they do what they can for the war effort, including protecting art from being stolen. There are many casualties in war.
The team has their first meeting as agents of fate. They know the first job, and just need to get there. But that requires Scott. The stakes get higher, they're being looked for. More then one person is looking for the power of Fate.
Scott talks to Garrick, admitting that his hard-line attitude to McNiter is due to pressure from his father’s insistence. He gives up the hunt but knows there will be blow-back.
“It’s not that complicated. We just need to pick up the item and get back.” Tyler, not sure how to take his CO’s emotion tried to explain.
Scott had, on hearing about the mission and his newly found ties to Fate, stood up and was leaning on the wall. Obviously upset he was muttering to himself and even punching the wall every so often.
“My father is already calling for my blood and now you tell me him that-that” Scott Couldn’t seem to find the words.
“We are warriors of an ancient power of Fate with the mission to save the world from its power falling into the wrong hands.” Carter filled in. “And we must find and protect the new form of it's power to aid us in the current fight. Yes, give or take a few details.”
“No one, no one is going to buy that.” Pacing back to his men he battled with himself to make sense of the situation.
“Thankfully no one needs to, Captain.” Garrick was pouring drinks for the men. “We tell them a mission request came from the resistance and as their assistance is key we were obligated to take it up. This is war, no one will question it. We can’t save France without them and we can’t save Europe without France.”
“True, that’s true. I can use that.” He took a glass, gin again, and sat down. “Alright, fine. We’ll call it helping the resistance then. So what’s the plan? I don’t know that area. McNiter’s our man there.”
Those in the room turned to look at the young man, but he was looking at his glass. His face some combination of distraction and despondency. His mind was clearly elsewhere.
“Boyo! There’s a meeting here. Stay with us.” Garrick said loudly, causing McNiter to jump slightly. Looking up it took a moment for Charles to catch up.
“You mean the area? Yes, I know it. You need the old mound, I’ve been there a few times. There’s a tree line we can hide in for the most part. We just need the Germans out of the way so we can get there safely.” He got up, frustrated, and looked out the window. “Standard channels should do it, might need help if it’s hot though.”
“He’s right. They’re grouping up in the north of France, some kind of offensive starting. “ Tyler piped up, surprising the others. He shrugged at their expressions. “I’ve been talking with SOE, someone had to. It was part of our job to keep everyone informed, right?”
“You’ve been passing on resistance information?” McNiter asked quickly, concerned. “How much?”
“Well, we’re supposed to be working together so whatever we had. What, it’s our job!” Tyler got up as McNiter moved, almost as to charge him. The move terrified the teen.
“Dammit, they work with Vichy! He’s a plant for the Germans. Whatever they tell him he tells Hitler, or worse. Do you have any idea what you’ve done! You could have gotten people killed already!”
“Hey now, we’re on the same side here. None one is trying to help the Germans. SOE just need to know what they’re dealing with so everyone can plan and win this war.” Carter stood up, looking insulted. “The King’s Army is only trying to get everyone on the same page.”
“Like hell you are. You want France on her knees like the rest of them. At least the Germans are honest enough to admit it.” McNiter was clearly calling the meeting over, as per his storming out. “The only defender She has now is DeGalle and you won’t accept it because he refuses to take orders. People are risking their lives, but when did that stop the British from playing politics. Je suis finir avec tu. »
Tyler, Scott and Garrick were shocked at the explosive show and looked at Carter who looked angry and frustrated, but wasn’t offering a rebuff. Clearly this was an argument that had been going for some time.
“What did he say?” Garrick asked quietly, trying not to set off their Brit as well as their French friendly contact. They needed at least some of the team on speaking terms.
“That’s he’s done with me. Fine by me if he’s going to be taken in by them.” Carter said as he left as well.
“If McNiter is right-“ Garrick said after the man left, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging. Tyler put his head in his hands, suddenly worried that he had done harm. Garrick leaned over and spoke softly. "You didn't know, we'll figure it out."
“We need to know. We can’t afford to pass intel to enemy.” Scott said and walked out, following his medic to get answers.
March 23, 1942, The Song Bird Bar
Song Bird had barely caught her breath from Charles’ last letter. His missive, filled entirely with concern for herself and her cell, explained the suddenly missing agents and silent areas that were no longer reporting in. Her Charles had done what he could, telling her as soon as possible, but she shared his concern that much of the damage had already been done. She could well be on the way to being a target.
She had already shaken up assignments and moved or shut down missions to evade but there was no way to know how well it would work. She would just have to see if she stayed alive in the coming weeks. Or if she had to, take the second option.
I know it is not in your nature but please, if Amiens grows too dangerous let Zinda get you out. I know it sounds unthinkable to leave so many people behind. I know what they mean to you. But a world without you in it is no longer one I want any part of. We can fight from here, if it is no longer possible there.
You need only say the word, there will be room for some three or so more as well, so you will be able to save a few. To simply see your smile, and know that you are well and here. Think on it, my Song Bird. Know that I think of you constantly. One word will command me.
Charles had included a few photographs from his brownie camera; of the nearby town and their camp. Pictures of each of his teammates, and his set up office. She could see now what he described in his letters. Best of all two of himself. One in uniform, which she would have to hide. Another of himself dressed as what seemed to be a townsmen, which she could carry with her. She might have to leak that she had a sweetheart in the war, if only to keep a few of the more persistent suitors from her door. A city sweetheart was very reasonable.
She moved the brick from the wall, where she stored all her letters and resistance secrets, and put her new treasures away. Charles’ photograph she slipped into her garter wallet and went back down stairs, Maurice was waiting for her.
“Your smile, mon petite. It is good to see.” Maurice said as she got back to the bar. He was looking healthier, the new business meant that at least she and her agents were eating regularly. “I sent out the new orders, but we need news to send out as well. Do you have a plan for our friends?”
“Just another player on the board.” She looked around the room and nodded. “Let us see how the board moves now that we know better who we are playing against.”
“There is a mission, from ton chéri.” He handed over a note. “We can’t move any of our agents in that area right now.”
“No.” She said, looking at the map. What business could Charles have at the old mound? “We will have to take it, send word. A good six or so will do it.”
“Under the mask.” The old man said, nodding grimly. “I will tell the cell to prepare.”
March 30, 1942 Northern French Coast
Zinda and Diana drove their planes into tree lines, in hopes that they wouldn’t be spotted. The smallest of the planes of the Blackhawks they had been used because of the ability to hide better.
Standing near the rock face Scott, Tyler, Garrick and McNiter were looking at Carter as he looked over the book again. McNiter might know area, and the resistance who knew it better, but Carter needed to tell them what to look for.
“In its heyday it was a walled city, building four stories tall with a decorated roman bath and wide market place. Bright murals with silver and gold. Temples to Jupiter and Minerva, a public fountain supplying clean water to all classes. The outside grove was renowned for its plant life, massive gardens-“ Carter was reading from the volume.
“Not likely to be there anymore.” McNiter said kindly, before the others could be more direct. The two had begun to mend fences. “What would still be there today?”
“Stone outlines, indention in the land level, an area that appears to be almost a basin from a distance.” Carter said, aging the site in his mind. “Maybe a tower, or the remains of one.”
“McNiter?” Scott asked, Blake and Trevor hurrying over. He nodded that he knew the place.
“Alright lads. Fully dark now, shall we?” Trevor said as Blake kept watch, no one wanted to be captured here. “Not where I want to be right now.”
“Two miles north, it’s an open field now. They locals use it to quarry stone for repairs.” McNiter said and Carter winced. Maybe they weren’t entirely made up. “We can stick to the cave line and stay fairly hidden. Move fast.”
They were about halfway there when the local resistance, dressed in black and wearing highly stylized masks, began to appear. Wordlessly nodding their assistance they wove in and out of the environment watching for German lookouts and sharpshooters. There were a few take downs but the team made good progress. The resistance members knew what they were doing.
Watching, Carter noticed that the agents were male and female, young and old. They wore old, worn clothing that had been dyed pitch black. The masks were old fête masks from happier times, once worn to elaborate costume balls, with hoods. The leader was a woman in an elaborate mask, brilliant gold with a hand painted Fleur-de-lis. Far older and grander than the others. And she was leading McNiter personally, this was the cell leader.
Watching from the back Scott had wondered why the others were stopped, but then he saw the marching German troops and knew. The female agent spoke to McNiter softly, more of the French he didn’t understand, and the man motioned for the allied team to talk.
“That’s a problem.” Garrick said as they huddled in.
“They arranged for a distraction, the troops should be pulled soon. But we won’t have much time once they move out.” McNiter said as the woman spoke to her own agents. Two slipped away, having been given the detonator from their leader.
“That would do it.” Tyler said, wondering what they were blowing up now. Even from camp they heard explosions across the channel sometimes. He looked at Carter. “You’re the master of digging, what are we looking for?”
“It should be on the left side of the ruins, I’ll spot it better when we get close. Just dig like hell.” The man said, waiting for the sign. The two resistance agents arrived back and the black clad agents gathered against the wall, motioning for them to do the same.
The explosion shook the earth, shaking stones from the rock wall. The troops rushed away, letting the resistance fan out to catch stragglers and cover Carter and the others as they rushed to get started. Blake and Trevor stood watch, to make sure the team wasn’t shot.
“What did they blow?!” Carter asked McNiter as they ran to the ruins. Stones were still falling.
“Three of the local bridges, to stop the trains.” The medic replied, starting to dig. “It’s been a plan for some time.”
“We’ll just have to rebuild them!” Carter said, frustrated.
“Yes, but the Germans can’t use them now.” Scott had joined them. “First things first. Where is the site?”
“Over this way.” Carter sighed but hurried on.
They got to a spot and Carter dropped to the ground and started digging, the others took the hint and pulled out the trench shovels to help. They could heart fire coming from the woods, and shots returned. Trevor and Blake were behind boulders, taking out Germans and offering covering fire.
“Sooner is better!” Scott said, he could hear troops fighting back. The local French knew the territory better but they didn’t have the bullets to keep up with the incoming units.
“They’re out here for us, hurry!” McNiter said, both digging and looking over at the tree line.
Tyler was in a corner, not where Carter thought it would be, but he found the piece. Holding up the item he called to the others.
“Gold, plain, and glowing?” He asked, and the others look. “Yes? Good, lets go.”
Dashing back, the pilots at the lead, they got back to the tree line. The cell was still fighting but a number of their members were leaning on the rock wall, hurt.
“McNiter.” Scott said but he was already moving to help them. He was almost done when the remainder of them came back, they were running and yelling something. Carter hurried into the cave entrance behind them. Garrick, Tyler and Scott only looked confused.
“Into the cave, but help me carry them in first.” McNiter filled in, motioning to his patients.
The resistance took them into a larger area, at the center of a system of caves. Tyler and McNiter worked to heal the wounded while Carter looked at the newly acquired item. It was glowing now that he had cleaned it.
“Is it what we were looking for?” Scott asked. Carter let him hold it as he looked up the information.
“The right hand gauntlet. Just like the book shows.” Carter showed them the picture, it matched. “The pair was trusted to a local noble family, a line sworn to Fate from old times. They were a clan of explorers that settled in the area. Known for discovering new areas, building them up. I’d have to see if the book will show me a family line to track down the current holder of the other. Soon as we get back.”
Leaning on a wall nearby the gold masked woman looked up at the description, she was hurt herself, though not as grievously. Under she masks she looked at the working doctor, who had already helped her. Thanks to him she would lose no one that night. Briefly, she nodded.
An hour later the pilots and the team were led to a cave opening near the planes. Dawn would be coming before long and they needed to go. Rushing ahead Scott, Carter and Garrick went with the pilots to get the planes in position. Tyler was putting the last of the medical supplies away, there wasn’t much space in the planes and they needed to be packed tight.
It wasn’t uncommon for McNiter to stay behind, he was a physician first and foremost. The cell was going to back to the tunnel system, and their daylight hiding faces. Making sure the supplies were clean and ready he doubled back to get him. They didn’t have time. He was talking to the cell leader.
« Ce sera bien, mon copine? » McNiter was pulling her to him. « Tu as être en sécure? »
« Je ne sais pas, mon amour. Je vais essayer. Tu aussi. » The woman spoke, the French he wished he understood. She melted into McNiter and didn’t stop him from taking off the mask, Charles knew her. He was smiling. He slipped a thick batch of letters into her jacket and she pulled out her own. This was where the stationary was going.
« Je t’aime, mon Chanson Oiseau. » Rex looked away, blushing slightly, from the private moment. When he looked back they finished the kiss and Charles was tucking the new letters into his army coat. “A bientôt, mon amour. »
« Ne azes tôt. » The woman had her mask on again. Sharing one last look she hurried back to the town and McNiter appeared and began to hurry to the planes. Tyler had moved a little away.
“It’s not safe here, common.” He said, and Tyler followed. Now knowing that the medic had more riding on this war then any of them knew.
April 5, 1942 Tyler's Tent
“You’re still at this?” Jay walked into Rex’s tent flashing the morning light. Rex waved but stayed at work, moving his chemicals around their tube. He put the last mixture over the burner, and after a moment he turned it off and poured the mixture into a medicine vial.
“I think that got it.” The kid said, standing up. He picked up the vial and moved it around. “It looks about right, and the color is good.”
“You have a pharmacy going here.” Jay said, looking at the set up. “What’s your project?”
“Charles’ headaches.” Rex said, putting the vial in the chill box. “Next I’m working on Scott’s heartburn.”
“Nice. Got anything for muscle aches?” Jay asked. Rex pulled out a few small boxes and set them aside.
“Give me a week.”
The young man had gotten several large boxes in the mail two days ago and had barely been seen since. Carter had also been a bit of a hermit reading his book. McNiter had been running missions with the ‘Hawks leaving him and Scott to wait for the next mission.
He saw McNiter walk back to his room, bothered. He was upset about something but he hadn’t been able to get him to crack. Not long after he saw Scott run after and grab the man’s attention. The two were talking now, almost friendly, sharing the joys of bad fathers. They would know better when they had families of their own.
Scott spotted him and nodded, he needed help. He hurried over.
“My father is here. Get him to the airfields, now.” Scott said quickly. “Hide him. I have the cover ready.”
Rushing with Charles they got to the airfields where he found one of the ‘Hawks waiting with his gear. They rushed Charles to a plane where he was secured inside, well out of view. The pilot quickly jumped in and revved the engine, they were going on a mission for a time.
That Scott’s father would visit wasn’t a surprise, they were just on alert for one of his spot inspections. General Scott was a three star with experience in WW1 and the middle years. This was not his first war. The forth in line of a proud military family, making Scott the fifth, he was a legend. A personal appointee by MacArthur himself. But while a good American and fine officer he wasn’t proving to be much as a father.
In line with the rest of the camp, aside from him, Garrick saw Scott steel himself as the car arrived. The highly decorated man got out, aides in tow, and barely acknowledged his son presenting his camp. It wasn’t just Carter and Tyler in line, the rest of the Hawks were quickly moving into ranks as well. Anything to give the General one less reason to complain up the ladder and hurt the outfit.
It was a full inspection, several of the foreign officers being told how “we do things in this man’s army” when their own nations uniforms varied. Garrick joined last, but took attention and waited for their turn.
“So these are yours.” The General said, getting to the three of them. “One is missing.”
“Capitan Blac-Dumant and Private McNiter were called away on an aid mission in our cooperation with the Red Cross and USO. They left a short time ago.” Scott explained. “If I had known you were coming I wouldn’t have agreed to the mission, General.”
“I’m sure.” The man wasn’t convinced, but as Scott was carrying a clip board with the order papers on it even he couldn’t argue. “Average, but acceptable. I expect the camp is the same.”
Jay sighed, Scott would be out of it after this but at least they had kept McNiter away from the worst of it. Tyler was carrying the medic’s trunk away to his room just to be safe. The sooner the good general left the better.
April 3, 1942 The Song Bird Bar
Maurice was busy working on a new set of music, or at least that was the story. The thick pile of music was the cover story for the movement he couldn’t really do right now without giving away his wound. She had no such out.
She hadn’t been that hurt, mostly bullet grazes and a few bruises. But shallow wounds hurt the most sometimes. They were wrapped and treated, Charles’ touch being even more soothing then normal, but still healing. Pain or no, however, she still needed to tend the bar.
She set up for the evening, many of the things needed to chill and prepare for the evening crowds. It was more work load then she was used to, three of her cell had been hurt badly enough that she was taking up their work.
The front room done she did the work of the back of the house before taking a meal to her room for the mid-day meal. She had personal matter to see to.
The last batch of letters were almost done, but a few details had to be added. Zinda should be here in a few hours for the trade-off. Writing if French kept them safe. His teammates, who reported to the SOE were brushed them off. She knew how important it was to be overlooked.
The Colonel is coming by almost hourly, it would be the case today as well but he had some business at the officer’s club to see to. I created this broker façade for its connections. Mostly it got me enough credibility to gain intelligence from real information brokers, they have more stomach for working with monsters then I do. Now it’s brought a nuisance.
I carry your picture now, the Parisian one. He seemed to be displeased that I had a boyfriend in the war, but at least it’s likely to put him off. I know he is already looking for my old beau and I wish him luck in the search. I hadn’t any before the war. There were none that gained my favor till you. It is also likely to put him off talking about you, as he has been doing. He has men throughout the town looking for your team. Please keep away, my beloved. I could not see you hurt.
The gauntlet will be stored in my rooms –The Player will know where. Whenever a break comes up I will find a way to get it to you. Fate had not been kind to me as of late, but if it led you to my door then I must allow it has been kind at last. Perhaps it was all in preparation for such a boon, for you did come to me when I needed you most.
She will be here soon, with new letters from you that I ache to hold. And I must secure your item to keep it safe for now. I will do what I can to keep safe, and if I need to I could not think of something more wondrous then running into your arms for all your camp to see. I can only pray that the day will come, for Fate to be kind again. But the fight for France continues, and I must be to my work. One day, we will know peace. And see all this made right.
Signing the letter with her sign, names were far too dangerous, she sealed the last one. Sealing the new bundle in the soap tin she turned to the wall. It took time to chisel out the mantelpiece but it allowed her to pull out more bricks. The gauntlet had been in her family line for longer than any of them had remembered, but now it was going to be hidden one last time.
By the time it was done and she had finished her meal the laundry basket was gone, the cleaning woman would be waiting for the trade then. She would have new word from Charles tonight.
The housekeeper’s helper was out, fairly serious leg wound, so Song Bird carried the dishes to the back well. They would need them. Just after setting the tray on the board she heard only a few steps before a rag was put over her mouth and nose and it all went dark.
Watching the woman drop Colonel Godsten smiled. He directed his men to follow as he returned to his quarters. None of them saw the baker’s daughter who saw them as they left.
April 4, 1952. Blackhawk Camp.
“Garrick, hurry!” Pulled from sleep Jay woke up to two things. A sound of falling items from the next to his, the medical tent, and a wide eyes Rex. This wasn’t good.
“I’m comin’ kid. Any idea what’s going on?” He was pulling boots. He could hear glasses clinking. “Huh, so this is what he’s like cracked.”
“Ya, it’s not funny. I need your help.” Rex looked out the door, looking worried.
Arriving he saw Diana and Zinda in the personal room behind the medical ward. McNiter was sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at the floor.
“-they’re looking, they have people everywhere.” Diana was trying to reach him but it wasn’t working.
“It’s bad, Di. Nothing for it.” Zinda was pouring another glass, bringing it over. “She’s tough but this is war. She’s right in the middle of it. At least part of this will be saving herself.”
His letters next to him McNiter only sunk his face into his hands. Rex hurried to the table to grab the vial.
“Headache again?” He asked, already pouring a dose. The medic waved it away. “Ya, I guess it’s not a concern right now.”
“Not the social hour I would recommend right now Garrick.” McNiter took the glass from Blake.
“We have a crisis of intelligence.” Diana said, offering him the bottle, he refused. “Our source was taken today.”
“The krauts?” Jay asked, Zinda nodded. “Who was it?”
“La Noir Canari. The cell leader from the mission. She was using her ins with the local German command to get the good stuff for us but we think it got too deep.” Diana took a drink for herself and sat down. “Or it was just bad luck. Her second-in-command is searching now but there hasn’t been a peep.”
“But what does that have to do with him?” Jay asked Rex, Charles picked up a few letters and waved them. “I’m assuming those aren’t just intelligence. May I?”
McNiter shrugged and Jay opened one to see why he wasn’t concerned, it wasn’t in English.
“What’s the plan here?” He asked, handing the letter back. Charles just put the letters back in their box.
“The new point of contact is Le Jourer. He’ll get us what he can and we’ll see if anything comes up. But he says they’re being watched right now so it might be slow for a while.” Diana wasn’t happy about the loss either, for that matter neither was Zinda. Whoever this person was she was close to all three of them. “When they do track her down we might be called in to help. Consider this a heads up.”
“I appreciate the support but my head is about to explode, my eyes hurt like hell and I have tossing and turning to get to.” Charles said putting the glass on the table. There was an owl outside that was making itself known. He winced at the sound, it was loud. “There’s nothing anyone can do right now so just get out.”
“We’re here if you need us.” Diana said, taking the hint. Garrick knew the man was suffering but he was right, there wasn’t anything they could do just then. This was a hell of a secret to have been carrying around. “Say the word.”
“Get her back.” The medic said, getting up and cleaning up his rooms back to regulation before he went to bed for the night. “That’s it.”
April 5, 1942. Camp Blackhawk
“So the line would have ended in Paris. They’re a former noble line so likely tied to the arts or local leadership.” Carter was pouring over the family tree in his tent. The faces, while lovely, were vague.
It was worth bringing up with the others, maybe there was some lead. He was heading out to talk to Captain Scott, as he was in charge here, but he was already seeing someone.
“Captain Hall, Colonel McSweeny. Colonel, Captain Hall. He’s our resident scholar.” Scott introduced the two.
“Helping the Americans with their Monument Men project I assume. Good work in war, easily forgotten.” Carter knew his countrymen, this officer was here for a reason. “You’ve helped a number of our people, I thought to put faces to names.”
“We’re doing well enough to be talked about.” Capitan Scott was smiling, the praise meant something to him.
“I brought some of the good stuff, if you know what I mean. Could I have a moment?” The man was worried and Scott nodded. They went back to Carter’s tent, he had a set of glasses.
“I’ll grab Tyler.” Scott said, leaving Carter to fix the glasses. “Find out what’s going on.”
“Thank you for the time, sport.” He sat down, watching Carter pour the sherry. “You lot have pulled you weight. Makes it sad that I have to come today.”
“Are we in trouble or do you need something?” Carter asked, handing over the glass.
“You’ve been with the Americans too long.” The Colonel said, smiling dryly. “Both. The quality has changed and we can’t afford that right now.”
“There was some concern over Vichy.” Carter said, and the man nodded.
“They were right on that one, only right to say so. But we have something rather more important to deal with.” He downed the glass. “We have to get those flight patterns, too much as at stake not to.”
“Who are the new targets?” Carter refilled his drink. “My understanding is they’re rather crippled at the moment. Germans caught on to them.”
“Ah, that would explain it. We are, old chap. They’re planning to bomb London, the palace, all the major cities.” Carter felt his chest get tight as the spoke. “We’re moving the children and informed into the country. But it’s a bad lot. Whatever you have, lad. Save English blood.”
“McNiter might have something.” Hall said, his head getting light. If the SOE was no longer working with Vichy he would talk more, he had to. England couldn’t fall, it was hurting the allied cause enough that France had. His home, taken over like Amiens. “Follow me.”
They walked into the camp grounds. Carter got a sinking feeling in his gut, most of the camp was hanging out around Charles’s tent. It wasn’t a good sign.
“Some issue I think.” The Colonel said. “Shall we?”
Carter was able to push himself inside, though not their guest who was now trying to look inside anxiously, where Garrick was cleaning up scattered metal and ash, and Scott was righting furniture that had been overturned. The place was a mess.
“The Colonel alright?” Scott asked, putting jars back on a shelf. “Would he mind sending for a doctor for us?”
It didn’t make a genius to guess Charles had been hurt, a hurt doctor couldn’t treat himself. The Colonel would be willing to do a great deal to help, sending for a doctor wasn’t an issue.
“What happened?” He put the wrapping cart back in semi-order, and called a Blackhawk in to tell him to request a physician as soon as possible. In the crowd he saw the Colonel get the request and hurry off, they’d be getting a good one. “How is he?”
“His heater blew up when he was cleaning the flu, general upkeep.” Scott said softly, he could hear Rex trying to help in the next room. Cleaning the flu was part of regulation care for the room stoves they all used. Charles would be good about keeping up with it. “Rex is doing what he can, but the door blew off and hit him hard. He’s blind.”