They arrived at the airfield early in the morning, because this was the Army and everything was done early. They did a few refresher courses and on went the T-11 parachute, a colleague checked the straps and made sure that they were properly chest crushing and that the leg straps were appropriately uncomfortable. Then on went the reserve and the rucksack. The jumpmaster inspected each of them, grabbing adjusting straps and raising the voices of several colleagues by a few octaves. They hurried their way through that, then they sat down and waited for a while, because this was the Army. The jumpmaster paid extra attention when he got to her, pulling her straps even tighter despite the fact that they were already done right, either because he had a thing against women or because he had a thing against officers. The latter was most likely.
Then they got their orders and they lumbered into a plane and sat down on the canvas seats, and they waited a little bit longer. Because this was the Air Force teaching the Army how to wait. Then the plane took off and the jostling, which most of them were convinced was part of the aircraft's design, was painful enough to give them proper incentive to jump out of this perfectly good airplane. You might not want to jump, but you damn well wanted out.
"Twenty minutes," the jumpmaster yelled, giving them their time warning, after they'd been in the air for a while.
"Yes sir," they all responded in unison, as they'd been trained to.
A while later the jumpmaster called out again, "ten minutes."
"Yes sir," came their legion reply.
Finally the jump master called out, "Get ready, outboard personnel, stand up." The outboard personnel stood up. "Inboard personnel, stand up." She stood up with inboard personnel. They hooked up their static lines. Then came the little voice in her head that had said the same thing on every time she'd done this. Hey, guess what, I'm probably gonna jump. There is no way to get out of this at this point. They went through the additional checks, then they opened the door. It was a nice day, so the sudden rush of air felt really nice. The jumpmaster checked the door and the green light came on.
"Go," the jumpmaster called. The first guy went out the door and the line started lumbering forward. Then it was her turn, she always considered the term static line jump to be a misnomer. You didn't jump, you fell. One second she was in the plane, the next she was caught in the slipstream. She locked her body in as tightly as she could, head to chest, arms extended over her reserve chute. She had no idea why she was supposed to do this or whether it made any difference, but it was the way that an airborne sergeant had taught her to do it twelve years ago and she wasn't going to test it.
Then she felt the opening shock of her parachute and mentally sighed with relief. It hadn't happened yet, but a part of her always worried that her chute wouldn't open on one of these jumps. Her canopy opened above her and she looked around, taking stock of her fellow jumpers. Then she looked down and began mentally bracing herself for the inevitable, she was going to hit the ground. And despite the fact that the Army taught trainees that you could steer, it was more honest to just say that you were getting delivered. She lowered her rucksack below her with her lowering line.
Out of habit, she mentally went through the five point landing technique in her head. The official technique was simple, toes, then calves, then thighs, then buttocks, then the pull-up muscles. In her entire career with the military, she had never managed to do that. She landed more like a cantaloupe dropped from the roof of an apartment building. But still she'd landed and she was conscious, she always called that a win.
She popped her canopy release, then she took a quick self-inventory. Legs, not broken, arms, not broken, ribs, not broken, no concussions or skull fractures. Alright, I'm functional, she thought as she shook her head. Then she asked herself the eternal question, why didn't I stay in med school? Then she pulled out her SCAR and picked up her gear, just like every other paratrooper on the field, just like they'd been trained to do.
"Colonel Knight!"
She immediately turned to see the source of the yell, a young second lieutenant in army greens running across the field to her. As he drew near, he immediately stopped and snapped to attention, saluting her.
"At ease Lieutenant, what's going on?" She asked, removing her helmet and exposing her bun of crimson hair.
The lieutenant dropped into a parade rest, "Ma'am, there are some men who need to speak to you. They won't say what it's about or who they're with, but their clearance checks out."
Freaking cloak and dagger bullshit, if this is just part of a senate inquiry or something, I'm going to hurt someone. "Who cleared them?"
The lieutenant looked even more nervous than he already had, "the Secretary of Defense, ma'am."
That got her attention, "Best not to keep them waiting then."
She followed the lieutenant away from the drop zone over to a waiting jeep. The drive to the headquarters building was fairly quick, out front were the two men that she assumed she was supposed to meet. They had the look about them, black suits, black sunglasses, and they were standing in front of a black SUV. Definitely government rather than military, probably CIA or NSA or one of the black agencies that no one was allowed to know about.
One of the men in black approached them as the jeep pulled up. "Lieutenant Colonel Knight, we need you to come with us."
She stepped off of the jeep, "Alright, but first how about you boys tell me who you are and where we're going?"
The MIB's face stayed expressionless, "Everything will be explained when we get there ma'am, please leave your weapon and excess equipment with the lieutenant. I don't mean to hurry you but we're operating on a tight time table here."
Of course we are, she shook her head while she passed her SCAR and her harness to the lieutenant. "You guys would tell me if you were black ops, right?"
Both men were silent, their faces betraying nothing.
She almost laughed, "Thought not."
"If we're on such a tight schedule, then we'd best get moving." She said as she climbed into the back of the SUV. Instead of the main gate or the airfield, they headed for a secluded helipad in an isolated corner of the base. As they arrived, what appeared to be a cross between an Osprey and an F-35 touched down on the pad. Holy shit, she thought, that's a Skyranger, those things are still in the experimental phase. They aren't supposed to see action for another five years.
"This will take you to the base," MIB 2 said, passing her a duffel bag. She took a quick look inside and saw the contents of her medicine cabinet and a few days' worth of clothes from her quarters.
"You broke into my quarters. Good to know that you guys still have that stellar sense of personal boundaries you're so famous for." The two MIBs just stared back at her, expressionless. "And that great sense of humor. So where is this base that you're sending me too? And did you at least feed my dog?"
MIB 1 spoke again, "Everything has been handled. You will be briefed when you reach the base."
These guys aren't going to give me anything, she sighed. "Well thanks for the ride, always nice to spend time with guys dressed for a funeral with faces even an eidetic forgets in five minutes."
They just kept staring at her as she climbed out of the SUV and headed for the Skyranger. She walked up the ramp into the cargo bay with her helmet in one hand and her duffel in the other and found a seat. She took a good look around while she strapped herself in. There were six seats that were actual seats rather than the canvas netting that was in the plane she'd just jumped from, making them quite comfortable by military standards. A large screen connected to what looked like an adjustable arm was flat against the ceiling near the front of the bay, presumably it could swing down for in-flight briefings. And near the rear of the plane, just above the door, was plainly a small camera, most likely to let the pilot keep an eye on the cargo bay.
Once she was firmly strapped in and her gear was tucked away, the door closed and the jet engines kicked in. The lift off was surprisingly smooth, with just a slight jolt when the jets in the rear kicked in. She'd grown used to long plane rides with no known destination over her career, so she knew the best way to pass the time. After a moment's rummaging in the duffel, she found what she was looking for. She dry swallowed an Ambien, leaned her head back against the wall of the Skyranger, and she was out like a light.
It felt like less than a minute later that a hand was on her shoulder shaking her awake, "ma'am, you really need to wake up."
She blinked away the blurriness and saw a man in a jumpsuit and a fighter helmet in front of her. She tried to shake herself into full consciousness, but the sleep was really clinging to her. "Ugh, how long was I out?"
"About three hours ma'am, the autopilot is bringing us down into the base now. We've got a team being deployed immediately after I drop you off." His voice came out of the helmet sounding muffled and robotic.
Shit, Ambien is supposed to knock you out for at least five or six. I didn't figure the flight would be this quick. She groggily forced herself to undo the straps and grab her helmet and duffel. This is getting off to a great start. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem ma'am, Big Sky, at your service." Then he clambered his way to the front of the airplane, presumably back to the pilot's seat.
The slight jolt of touch down caused her to grab onto the nearest handhold, then the ramp lowered and she stumbled forward. She didn't have time to get the lay of the land before a young man in a green commando sweater stepped up to her, saluting her, handing her a cup of coffee and taking her duffel and helmet. "Hello ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you. You're needed in the situation room, the council needs to speak with you."
"Alright," she allowed the young man to guide her towards a door. She took a drink of the coffee and realized two things. The first realization came after her first sip, no way in hell are these guys standard military or government, this coffee is way too good. The second came when she realized what flavor it was, and they know my favorite kind of coffee. Yep they've had me under surveillance.
The caffeine helped her get her mind out of the Ambien fog. "Which council? UN? National Security?"
The young man, who she was going to assume was someone's aide, maintained the party line. "It's above my paygrade ma'am, it will all be explained during the briefing. As they drew near, the door suddenly opened and they stepped out of the way as a squad of soldiers charged out. Three men and one woman, all decked out in full tactical kit, carrying assault rifles. She assumed that was the squad that the one that the pilot had mentioned.
Looking at the squad made her notice the true scale of the hangar. It was massive, the Skyranger sat in the center while dozens of support personnel darted to and fro. It was clearly built into a mountain, and on the upper floors were smaller sections containing what looked like advanced fighter aircraft. Whoever these guys were, they had top level connections with the DOD, access to advanced combat materiel, a dedicated air component, extreme logistical support, and at least one squad's worth of an operations force. They were definitely serious.
She was led through a maze of tunnels and corridors to a conference room with a map of the world on the wall. The aide politely excused himself, snapping to a salute, then disappearing through the door, leaving her alone. She took a long drink of the coffee, still fighting off the effects of the Ambien. She was expecting anywhere between an eight and a twelve hour flight, and she was really regretting taking the sleeping medication now. And she knew that she would really pay for mixing sleeping meds with caffeine later, but she needed to be alert now.
The map screen on the wall changed, briefly showing the seal of an organization she was unfamiliar with. Vigilo Confido, I am watchful, I am relied upon, her mind automatically translated the motto on the seal. Then the screen changed again, this time showing a man veiled in darkness. His features were hidden by the extremely bright light behind him. "Hello Colonel Knight, I apologize for the abrupt nature of your summons, but circumstances have forced certain plans to be expedited."
She set the coffee on the conference table and adopted a parade rest stance. "No need to apologize sir, but if you don't mind, I would like to know who exactly I'm working for and what exactly is expected of me."
"You have been selected to serve as commander of the XCOM project, a program activated in light of recent extreme events. You will serve under the directive of this council of nations. If you feel it is morally necessary, I can arrange for the proper authorizations to be presented to you to show that you will be acting with the approval of the United States government." It really annoyed her that she couldn't see his face.
"That won't be necessary sir. But I must point out that I'm only a lieutenant colonel, I'm not qualified to take command of an organization of this size." She refused the authorizations because she already got the sense that this was the kind of organization where paper trails were to be avoided whenever possible. Nothing that she hadn't dealt with before. But her rank should have disqualified her from a command like this.
"Your previous performance has proven otherwise. Colonel, you are needed, you will be overseeing our first and last line of defense. Your actions will have a significant impact on the future of this planet." This guy is really laying it on thick, she thought. This is either really important, or this guy is bullshitting like a pro.
A multinational covert task force dealing with extreme threats. God, this is something out of a video game, she thought. Then again, that describes most of my adult life. The idea certainly held an appeal to her, and it didn't exactly seem like something that she was allowed to back out of. All things being equal, it wasn't much of a choice. Though she was curious as to what previous performance he was referring to. She'd had an abnormally interesting career in the past twelve years, and she'd made a few powerful friends and a far larger amount of enemies. "Alright sir, I accept."
The shadow figure nodded, what little body language she could read off of him told her that she was telling him something he already knew. "Good luck Commander, we will be watching." Then the screen switched back to the map.
"Great, thanks," she sighed and picked up the coffee again. "It's not like I had any other questions or anything."
"Commander."
She turned around to see the source of the familiar voice. "Bradford, they tapped you for this XCOM thing too, huh?"
The last time she'd seen Bradford, he was leading a team of Deltas on an operation in Bolivia. He had a good ten years on her, both in age and military experience. He'd been in Task Force 121, then in its successor Task Force 6-26, and eventually its final iteration as Task Force 88. He'd been on the operations that killed Uday and Qusay Hussein, Abu Zarquawi, and he'd been there for the capture of Saddam as part of Iraqi Freedom. He was a bit of a legend in the special operations community.
"Yes ma'am." The consummate professional he was, Bradford snapped into a salute. "Central Tactical Officer, at your service."
"Drop the rank bullshit Saber," She said, using his old call sign. "You're ten years older than me, you've seen me without pants on, and up until two minutes ago, you outranked me."
Bradford grinned, adopting a more relaxed stance. "Good to see you haven't changed Prodigy. I had almost forgotten about Baghdad, I was almost starting to regain some respect for you."
"Bullshit," She said laughing, "You don't forget something like that. And you better respect me, I still have the photos from that weekend liberty in Amsterdam." She downed the rest of the coffee and her expression turned serious. "So what exactly is going on? The council guy said circumstances had forced them to expedite my recruitment, and a squad was rushing out as I was being dropped off. Sounds like we're in crisis mode."
Bradford's expression turned grim. He picked up a tablet and tapped it a few times. The map screen changed once again, this time showing an overhead of a city street. "At 1900 hours Zulu, a number of unknown objects fell to Earth." Another tap, certain oddly shaped objects were highlighted in the picture.
"One of those things finally hit a populated area, that shouldn't be surprising, but it is." Tracked objects falling to earth averaged about one per day, it was honestly a miracle that this hadn't happened sooner. Though as she studied the screen, she noticed something, they looked oddly uniform. A crashed satellite should look fragmented, broken apart by the fall and the crash. These looked incredibly intact, and they looked less like pieces of something and more like individual entities. Besides that, she knew that this couldn't just be a crashed satellite. That warranted disaster relief forces, medics, police, fire departments, but there was no reason to deploy an armed special operations force for just a satellite.
"What are we dealing with here? Is there something on the ACS? Was there nuclear material that could have survived the crash on board? Please tell me no one tried to put a weapons system on board? What city did they hit?" That should have been the first question I asked, she thought.
"Berlin, and we're fairly certain that this wasn't a satellite, or any other form of space junk that we know of. We don't think it was man made." Bradford spoke slowly, as if he was choosing his words as carefully as he could. She liked to think she and Bradford were fairly close friends, so she knew that it took a lot to make this man uncomfortable. If it fell to earth, and it wasn't a man made, that only leaves… shit.
"John," she said slowly, looking him directly in the eyes, "Are we dealing with the X Files here, or should I be calling my pastor right now?"
He took a deep breath before speaking again. "The former, though the latter is probably a good idea too. But yes, we're currently operating under the belief that these objects are extraterrestrial in nature."
She looked down at the coffee cup in her hand, suddenly wondering if she was still passed out on the Skyranger and this was all an Ambien induced dream. "Alright," she said with a sigh, "So why are we sending in operators instead of scientists or, depending on whether the little grey men have popped out yet, diplomats?"
Bradford tapped on the tablet again, and the screen changed to a street map of Berlin. A cluster of Red dots representing the impacts sites appeared on the map with small a small red circle surrounding the area. "Because we've lost all contact with the area surrounding the impact zones, the traffic cameras aren't accessible, the phone lines aren't working, the same goes for the internet, and no one who was in that area has been seen or heard since 1904 Zulu." He tapped again, causing a larger yellow circle to surround the red one. "Local authorities have evacuated the surrounding area and established a cordon around the area four miles out from the impact site. The official story the Germans are running right now is that a nuclear powered satellite crashed and the area could be radioactive."
This keeps getting better and better. "Alright, so give me the operational details. What role is our team going to be playing in all this?"
Bradford kept tapping on the tablet, causing a helicopter symbol to appear, "The council has requested our assistance in this. Our team is to rendezvous with German Special Forces from the Rapid Response Division and move in to secure the area, locate the civilians, and secure the extraterrestrial material."
The Rapid Response Division was composed of the best of the best of the German military. Every member was a hardened combat veteran with multiple tours of duty under their belt. They were trained extensively to be able to tackle any situation. Well, almost anything, I doubt they were trained for this. "Alright, seems sound enough, I want you to take point on tactics with this one. I popped an Ambien on the flight because I thought it would take longer and I've still got about five more hours before it's out of my system."
Bradford nodded, understanding. "Alright, we have a couple of hours before the team reaches German air space. Shall we tour your new command ma'am?"
She nodded, "Alright, and seriously John, cut the rank bullshit when we're in private, it's weird."
…
"And this is mission control, we can direct operations in progress from here, as well as monitor global chatter for possible situations requiring our intervention." Bradford said as they stepped into a huge chamber built directly into the mountain. Dozens of men and women sat, glued to their terminals, around the huge holographic globe in the center. A holographic Skyranger traced a path across the globe to Berlin. One of the technicians looked up from her terminal and turned to them.
"Sir, ma'am, the recon team is nearing the impact site." She spoke with a French accent.
"How far out is Delta squad?" Bradford asked. "And someone get the commander a headset."
"About ten minutes sir." Knight listened as another technician fitted her with headset.
"The recon team is over the impact site, patching us through."
Her German was a little rusty, but Knight was able to get the gist of what was being said as the recon team's pilot came over the comms. They were approaching the crash site, no signs of combat in the area. Then the pilot's voice wavered slightly, they were taking heavy fire from several unidentified sources. The next transmission was hard to understand, the pilot was speaking quickly, fear was evident in his voice. They were going down, the helicopter was heavily damaged, mayday, mayday, they were going down and under sustained heavy fire.
"That was the last transmission sir."
"Alright," Bradford said, maintaining a veneer of the utmost professionalism. "Patch me through to Voodoo Three One."
Bradford gave the squad a similar briefing to the one that he had given her. She noticed that she had been right about the camera and the briefing screen in the Skyranger. Several of the screens in the command center now displayed an interior view of the cargo bay of the Skyranger, and the flat screen was hanging down in front of the squad, held by the arm that attached it to the ceiling. The screens switched to the nose camera of the Skyranger.
"Central, this is Big Sky, we have eyes on the crash site." The camera moved to the crashed helicopter, highlighting it.
"Copy that Voodoo Three One, any sign of activity?" Even from the nose camera, she could tell that the chopper was a burnt out wreck. Whoever or whatever they were dealing with, they were packing some serious firepower.
"Negative Central, nothing's moving down there."
"Okay," Bradford said, "set her down nearby."
The Skyranger landed in an area in the middle of the street, one of the few that was clear of any form of debris. The team exited the Skyranger and fanned out across the street. The screens in the command center switched to the gunsight cameras on the squad's weapons.
"You seeing this Central?" Delta-1's voice came over the comms. The area was a mess, vehicles were overturned, buildings were on fire, there had been some extremely heavy combat in the area before they arrived.
"Copy that Delta squad. Get out of the open and into cover. Whatever hit the recon team could still be out there."
The squad advanced up the street, moving from cover to cover as directed by Bradford. This was an unusual level of micromanagement, but these were unusual circumstances.
"Central, I have movement. Thirty meters north of my positon, medical vehicle." Delta-3 reported after taking cover behind a civilian vehicle.
"Roger, proceed to the next vehicle for a better vantage point."
Delta-3 did as he was ordered, but still couldn't see anything. "Delta-4, go check it out, double time it."
Delta 4 sprinted across the street into cover behind the overturned ambulance. When she turned the corner… "Holy hell."
"What is it Delta-4? Report!"
"Looks like one of the recon team sir." Delta-4 pointed her assault rifle toward the scene, bringing the image into view on her gunsight camera. It was a gruesome sight, a man in military fatigues reached toward her pathetically, a death rattle escaping from his throat. Blood was everywhere, on the man, all over the ground around him, and splayed across the roof of the ambulance. The man was going to die within a minute or two at most. There wasn't even a point to attempting to give him medical attention. "It looks like something…"
"Hilfe…" the voice crackled over the radio. Knight had been active duty military for over a decade, she'd been hit by IEDs, stared down ruthless war criminals, and been in more firefights than she could count. So she considered herself a pretty difficult person to frighten. But that voice coming over the comms scared the ever loving hell out of her. She hid it well, but still twitched ever so slightly.
Even Bradford, who had seen twice as much shit as she had, grimaced at the sound of the voice. "Delta-4, was that your man?"
"Negative sir, that's someone else…"
"Hilfe…"
"Doctor Vahlen, what's he saying?"
A woman she hadn't met yet came over the comms. "He is saying, 'help me.' The transmission is coming from somewhere north of the squad's positon. Based on its strength, probably from inside a structure."
The sound of the voice aside, this gave her a new hope. It was proof that at least one member of the recon team or one of the missing civilians was still alive. It also brought new urgency. From the sound of the voice, whoever it was, they were in dire straits.
"Thank you doctor," Bradford said. "Delta, is there a structure directly north of you?"
"Yes sir," Delta-3 said, aiming his gunsight camera towards a warehouse at the north end of the street.
"Advance and infiltrate, and remember, stay in cover. We have confirmed hostiles in the AO."
Delta-1 advanced to take cover behind an enclosed bus stop. "Central, I got a lot of blood here."
"Roger Delta-1, see where it's coming from."
Delta-1 turned the corner and angled his gunsight camera in front of him. "Central, I think I just found another member of the recon team… or what's left of him." This German commando's fate was even more gruesome than his comrade's. The blood spatter had painted the grey enclosure crimson. The man's stomach had been ripped open and his innards splayed before him.
"This doesn't make sense." Delta-1 said, "He can't have died more than a few minutes ago, but he looks like he's been dead for a week." Knight took a closer look at the image onscreen and saw that he was right. The corpse was in an advanced state of decomposure, even though he shouldn't have even hit room temperature yet.
"Even more perplexing is the cause of death. It appears that he was eviscerated when something burst out of him from the inside." The doctor's voice came over the comms again. A ludicrous thought went through Knight's head, what the hell is this? Alien?
"Tell him not to touch that corpse Central," Knight said quietly. "The advanced decomposure is likely the result of a biological or chemical agent.
Bradford nodded, "move to another piece of cover Delta-3. That corpse could be contaminated."
"Sir," Delta-2 said, "I have visual on the object, permission to approach?"
Bradford's scowl deepened, "It's the only cover between you and that building, permission granted."
Delta-2 sprinted towards the object, she couldn't see much from where his gunsight was pointed, but the object gave off an eerie green glow.
"Talk to me soldier," Bradford said, "What are we dealing with?"
"Sir," Delta-3 said, crouched behind the object. "I have no idea what this thing is, but I can confirm that it's no satellite."
"Roger."
"Doctor Vahlen," Knight said over the comms. "Is the squad outfitted with radiation sensors?"
"Yes Commander, but we're not getting anything out of the ordinary from them."
"Alright Delta squad," Bradford said, looking at a screen showing an overhead shot of the street. "You're almost to the building, keep moving."
Delta-4 moved up to a police vehicle in front of the warehouse. "In position sir."
"Delta-1 move up to the window in front of you and get us a visual of the inside."
"In position sir, looks clear." He poked his gunsight camera around the brick wall to give them a view inside. There were no signs of movement within the warehouse.
"Alright, get in there." This was the dicey part, there were very few maneuvers in the field riskier than clearing an unsecured building. Delta-1 burst through the window and rushed into cover behind a set of tarp covered barrels.
"Delta-2, breach the door." Delta-2 sprinted forward and kicked in the door, taking cover behind some crates. He was immediately followed by Delta-3.
Delta-2 popped out of cover and through his gunsight camera, they saw an armed man in military fatigues. He seemed dazed and, most worryingly, was holding an assault rifle in one hand and a fragmentation grenade in the other.
"Hilfe…" The man said, more like a moan than anything else.
"Central, we have eyes on the target," Delta-3 said. "He's armed."
"Copy Delta-3. Okay everyone, get into position nearby, but do not approach." Bradford switched channels, "Doctor Vahlen, can you talk to him? Tell him to drop his weapon."
"I will try," the doctor said. Then she started speaking German, telling the man who they were and to lay down his weapons.
"Hilfe…"
"He appears to be in shock," the doctor concluded. From where she stood, Knight would have to agree, though she felt it couldn't be something that simple. Not on something like this. She shook her head, Occam's razor, shock is the most likely answer, she thought. Murphy's Law, her pessimistic side countered, if something can go wrong, it will.
"Keep your eyes open people," Bradford said. "I don't like the look of this." Delta squad advanced further into the warehouse, taking up positions behind cover around the man. "Delta-3, move in and disarm the man, carefully."
Delta-3 advanced slowly towards the man and raised a hand to show he was peaceful. As he drew closer though quietly exclaimed, "My god."
Then everything went to hell.
The soldier raised his gun and fired before Delta-3 could react. Everyone spoke at once turning comm chatter into a garbled mess. Then the soldier raised his grenade and blew himself, and Delta-3, up. A second later, some… thing shot Delta-1 in the back and his life signs went flat. It was a fucking ambush. Another one of the things opened fire pinning Delta-4 down in her position. Delta-2 shifted positons and opened fire on the thing, hitting it with a tight burst, and seemingly killing it. Delta-4 moved and fragged another one of the… aliens, before being shot in the back herself by an unseen enemy.
"Delta-2 shift cover and find a position to flank the enemy." Bradford's voice was angry, but he still wasn't yelling. Delta-2 did as he was bidden and the alien came into view for a brief second on his gunsight camera. To her shock, it was exactly what Knight imagined an alien to look like. Small, grey, with huge eyes and spindly limbs. Then Delta-2 opened fire and it was dead.
"Central," Delta-2 said, "I think that's it, it's over."
"Roger that Delta" Bradford said, stepping away from the control panel. "Secure the bodies and head back to the Skyranger for immediate extraction."
"Sir," the French accented technician spoke again, "the computer found something on Delta-1's gunsight camera."
"Bring it up on screen." Bradford said, walking over to the largest screen in the room. Knight followed him over. The image that came up on screen was similar to the one captured on Delta-2 had captured. The main aspects were all the same, but there were some key differences. This alien appeared slightly larger, it's head was definitely bigger, and it gave off an red-orange glow from its eyes and certain areas beneath his skin.
One thing came to mind as she stared at the creature, Knight muttered it under her breath.
"In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again."
Alright people, for those of you who have read my stories before, this one will be slightly different in tone than Shadows in the Tunnel or I Think I Like Like You Too. For those of you new to my writing, I'm Jake111, and I hope you stick with me on this.
I will be writing this as I play through my game, but I probably will focus on the stuff happening back at base. I love the missions in XCOM, but writing them would get repetitive as all hell. I am going to try and keep close to the basic story, but I will be putting my own spin on things, adding content and modifying things as I see fit.
Just to give credit where credit is due, I wanted to keep the jump scene as realistic as possible, so I got a lot of that from a Ted talk by Stanley A. McChrystal. It is a great video that I recommend to anyone. I'm going to get a lot of the military aspects of Knight's career from various memoirs by special forces operators I'm reading.
So what do you guys think, should I continue this?
Read and Review people.