Sir Holland was in his office, a space where he commanded authority with every keystroke on his laptop, his cup of coffee a constant companion on the side.
The door swung open abruptly, and in strode Charlotte Holland, her irritation evident in the way she carried herself. She halted a few meters from the desk, her stance tense.
"You called," she stated bluntly, her tone tinged with annoyance.
Sir Holland raised an eyebrow, a hint of reproach in his voice. "Could you at least knock next time? What happened to manners?"
Rolling her eyes, Charlotte sighed impatiently. "Yeah yeah. Can I just know why I'm here?"
Sir Holland wiggled his fingers sarcastically. "Ohh, my apologies Captain Holland—"
"Charlotte," she corrected sharply, her gaze icy.
"...Captain Charlotte," he amended with a chuckle, returning to his work on the laptop.
"That's not how squad names work, Charlotte," he continued. "The titles are followed by the surnames, not the first names."
Charlotte shifted uncomfortably, a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "Why did you call me here, Dad?"
Sir Holland paused, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair, focusing his attention on his daughter.
"There was an unusual amount of officer casualties at the scene, Captain 'Charlotte'," he said pointedly. "What's all that about?"
Charlotte hesitated, avoiding her father's piercing gaze. "Nothing much, just some interference."
Sir Holland sighed deeply, his disappointment evident as he regarded Charlotte with a knowing look.
"They showed up, didn't they?" he stated more than asked, a hint of resignation in his voice.
Charlotte remained silent, her jaw clenched as she struggled to meet her father's gaze.
"I knew it," Sir Holland chuckled softly. "This isn't the first time they've raided an auction. I don't need to tell you how disappointed I am, right?"
"Look," Charlotte interjected, her voice defensive. "We just underestimated them. Plus we didn't think they were even going to show up in the first place!"
Sir Holland's expression hardened, his disappointment turning to frustration. "Charlotte, you had one job—"
"And we tried our hardest!" Charlotte snapped, her temper flaring. "We were up against members of the Herd, Dad! If it were so easy to capture them, why are they still out there?"
The tension in the room crackled with unresolved conflict as father and daughter faced off, their opposing perspectives clashing in the dimly lit office.
Sir Holland fixed his daughter with a stern gaze, his voice firm with authority.
"Charlotte, I need you to realize the responsibility you have to shoulder now. You captain the main squad of the Kingdom, meaning every other captain looks up to you. If you, out of all people, lose to a Herd member, what do you think that would do to the kingdom's confidence?"
Charlotte's lips curled into a sardonic smile, a glint of defiance in her eyes.
"Hmm, pretty ironic coming from the man who let the Iche kid slip through his fingers in the first place," she retorted, her tone biting.
Sir Holland opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it, his expression softening as he shook his head and chuckled softly.
"You really are starting to sound like your sister," he remarked with a wry smile. "Next thing I need you to copy from her is her skill level."
"Excuse me?" Charlotte's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You're free to go, Charlotte," Sir Holland said dismissively, waving her off.
Charlotte shot him a withering glare before turning on her heel to leave the room.
"Remember..." Sir Holland called after her, causing her to pause.
"You can't lose to the nepotism accusations. Prove to them that you are where you are because you're Charlotte, not a Holland."
Charlotte mulled over his words for a moment before muttering to herself, "You damn right."
Alone in the room once more, Sir Holland opened his laptop to resume his work, but he was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.
Seeing the caller ID as Bevan, he answered with a grin, his tone light and casual.
"Bestie... how've you been?"
On the other end of the line, Bevan's voice was serious and urgent.
"Meet me at our usual spot. We need to talk."
Sir Holland's grin slowly faded, replaced by a look of concern as he realized the gravity of the situation.
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As dusk settled over the park, its tranquil ambience deepened, enveloping Bevan in a shroud of fading light. Clad in a hoodie, he found solace on a weathered bench, his form blending seamlessly into the serene surroundings.
Joining him was Sir Holland, the fading daylight casting a gentle glow on his usual suit and overcoat. Side by side, they gazed into the horizon, the silence between them a fitting companion to the tranquillity of the sunset.
"I'm glad we both had the same idea when you mentioned 'our spot'," remarked Sir Holland, breaking the silence with a nostalgic tone. "You, me, Kiara... hanging out as the main squad of the Britannus Kingdom. Good ol' times. Look at us now, eh? Kiara's the chief commander of the Dove Army, I'm the CEO of the Dove Corporation, and you're the Head of the Dove Academy. Who would've thought?"
Bevan responded dryly, his words tinged with sarcasm. "Yeah, who would've thought you were gonna turn into an even bigger knob."
Sir Holland chuckled softly at the jab. "I appreciate the kind words, Bev."
"Any time," Bevan quipped back.
"So, what did you call me over for? Finally want to catch up with your best mate?" Sir Holland inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Bevan sighed and reached into his pocket, retrieving his Dove Academy work badge. With a solemn expression, he handed it over to Sir Holland, who accepted it with mild confusion.
"Why? What's this?" Sir Holland questioned, examining the badge.
"That's my badge. I quit," Bevan stated matter-of-factly.
Sir Holland sighed, a faint chuckle escaping him. "What are you talking about?"
Undeterred, Bevan rose from the bench, determination etched upon his features. "I'm leaving my position as Head of the Dove Academy. No need to find a replacement, Valeria's been doing a decent job."
As Bevan began to walk away, Sir Holland called out after him, his voice tinged with concern. "Bevan..."
Ignoring the call, Bevan continued on his path, his resolve unwavering.
"Bevan!" Sir Holland's voice grew more urgent as Bevan stopped in his tracks.
"Where the hell are you going?" Sir Holland demanded.
Bevan turned to face him, determination etched in his expression.
"To find my sons," Bevan replied firmly, before walking away, leaving Sir Holland speechless and perplexed on the bench.
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Squad 0 found themselves back at Kelly's house, gathered in the sitting room, their minds abuzz with the urgency of finding a plan B. Udo, Ren, and an unusually aloof Alko occupied the couch, while Kelly and Kimberley sat on separate chairs, tension thick in the air.
"We were so close, Kelly. So close! I saw them with my own two eyes! You were right!" Kimberley exclaimed, her frustration palpable.
Kelly sighed, her expression troubled. "Kimberley..."
"Kelly, what do we do now? There has got to be another opportunity we could take," Kimberley pressed, her desperation evident.
"I-I'm not sure..." Kelly faltered, her brow furrowing with worry.
"Come on! Please! Just... just think!" Kimberley pleaded, her pacing around the room reflecting her agitation.
"Sorry, Kimberley. I... can't think of anything else at the moment," Kelly admitted, her voice tinged with defeat.
"How about the preacher guy? Do you know where any of his churches are?" Kimberley suggested, grasping at straws.
"The only people who know about his church's locations are his followers and Shepherd," Kelly explained, her tone resigned.
"Fuck!" Kimberley cursed, frustration evident in her every movement.
"Kelly, you managed to predict their movements last time. What do you think the Bank could target next?" Udo interjected, attempting to steer the conversation towards a more productive direction.
"Udo, I'm not sure. All auctions, legal or illegal, are most likely going to be put on hold for a while because of what just happened. So we can rule those out," Kelly reasoned, her gaze distant as she considered the possibilities.
"What about banks, events... what else do they target?" Kimberley pressed, her voice tinged with desperation.
"We can't really predict their movements when it comes to banks. Th-they attack at random," Kelly admitted, her voice laden with uncertainty.
"Come on, Kelly! There's got to be a way!" Kimberley insisted, her frustration mounting.
"Look, I- the only way I can see you guys meeting them again is by recognizing them in public or something. D-did you see their faces?" Kelly asked, turning the question to the others.
"I mean, there was this big blonde guy with tattoos… that's the only one I saw. But he wasn't alone," Kimberley recounted.
"Ren, Alko, did you guys see any faces?" Udo inquired, turning to the others.
"Um… no. I was waiting in the parking lot when Alko suddenly came flying into my windshield," Ren answered.
"Huh?" Kimberley turned to Alko, seeking answers. "Alko, what happened? Did you see who hit you?"
But Alko remained silent, head down.
"Alko! Alko, are you listening?" Kimberley persisted, her tone growing more urgent.
Still, Alko refused to look up at her, his silence unnerving.
"Alko, I asked you a question," Kimberley insisted.
Alko muttered under his breath, barely audible.
"Shut up," he said, his voice laced with venom.
Kimberley paused, taken aback by his response.
"Kimberley, relax," Ren urged, attempting to diffuse the tension.
But Kimberley was not to be deterred. She stomped towards Alko, her anger bubbling to the surface.
"Repeat that for me!" she demanded, her voice rising.
Alko jolted to his feet, his gaze meeting hers with intensity.
"I said shut up!" he spat, his words dripping with rage.
Kimberley froze, startled by the tears glistening in his enraged eyes.
Without another word, Alko stormed out of the house, leaving the room engulfed in stunned silence.