F.E.A.R: Origins
By Genoscythe
Chapter 1: A Few Choice Words
AN: This 'fic is a finished product, and I'll update it every two days to space out the chapters. Strong language ahead, but since you've played F.E.A.R. I'm sure this is nothing new for you.
"…why was this last op such a total failure?"
"Yes."
"You mean, why two groups of Delta force soldiers and one of my point men couldn't stop an entire battalion of perfectly-synchronized super soldiers from detonating a sizeable chunk of the Auburn district?"
"Exactly, Mr. Betters."
"Geez. Where do I start?"
"Anywhere you like, Mr. Betters. This is an interview, not an interrogation." The reporter flipped open his notebook, nudging an overzealous cameraman out of his comfort zone. Commissioner Betters of the top-secret First Encounter Assault Recon force eased back across the table, not twenty-four hours after the incident in Auburn, Washington. For lack of a better analogy, he appeared as if he had been steadily beaten with a sack of oranges for roughly that amount of time.
There were no visible wounds, but his sagging shoulders and defeated brow suggested that they were all inside.
"Can I speak with you for a moment?" Betters snapped.
"You're speaking to me right now, Mr. Betters."
Betters flinched at the name. "No. Can I speak with you."
The reporter sighed, signaling for the cameramen to leave them alone for a moment. As the door to Betters' office slipped shut, the reporter slackened. "What?"
"Why do you have to call me 'Mr. Betters'?"
"Because the cameras are rolling, I have to act professional…"
"It sounds like you don't even know me."
"I'm not supposed to! You think it'll look good for me if everybody knew I only got this interview because I'm your son?" The reporter jerked out a cigarette.
"Don't light that shit when I'm around," Betters warned.
"I have to. I'm a reporter," Betters Jr. explained.
"They make you smoke at the office?"
"That's right. Makes it look like you mean business."
"Well, where are we?" Betters asked patiently.
"F.E.A.R. headquarters?" the reporter responded hesitantly.
"And where is that?"
"I'm not sure. I think we're underground, but after those pills you gave us…"
"Yeah. We're underground. As far as you're concerned, the office is worlds away from underground. Now put the damn cigarette back in your damn pocket and bring in the damn cameramen. I wanna get this over with so I can check up on my point man." The reporter dutifully replaced his cigarette.
"Promise to act professional? We only have so much memory, don't want most of it to end up on the cutting room floor…"
After retrieving the cameramen and reactivating their cyclopean baggage, the reporter began again. "Start with the basics, Mr. Betters. Why was yesterday such a failure?"
Betters grunted something inaudible, looking away. The reporter subtly began motioning for Betters to look at the cameras, eventually elbowing one of the cameramen into a file cabinet. Finally, the F.E.A.R coordinator started to turn.
"The facts are these: we weren't prepared. We had no experience dealing with a paranormal threat of that magnitude. We didn't expect the situation to escalate so quickly. We – "
"Did it…" The reporter interrupted. "…have anything to do with your newest member? I heard you put him on the mission straight out of training."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Betters scoffed.
We're gonna have to edit that out, the reporter mouthed silently.
"The new point man was probably the only reason we're all still alive. No, it was our veteran, Jankowski, that fucked up. We don't even know what happened to him; for all I know, he might still be wandering around the docks."
"How was it you were so unprepared? How your veteran point man was the first to…possibly die?"
At this, Betters actually laughed. "If you haven't noticed, shit like this doesn't happen too often."
Gonna have to cut that too…the reporter simply thought to himself.
"We've never dealt with anything like Fettel or Alma before. Plus, Jankowski's expertise was limited to fixing appliances and blowing shit up."
The reporter hung forward, dumbstruck and unaware that he would have to cut that swear out as well. "You're kidding."
"I don't kid."
"Why did you choose him for F.E.A.R?"
"Because that's all he really needed to know."
"Excuse me?"
"That was basically all we did before this whole Origin situation."
"Again…excuse me?"
Betters leaned forward in a confidential manner. "Believe me when I say that F.E.A.R. was made by paranoid politicians with far too much disposable income. We never had a need for a supernatural investigation team – well, not until yesterday – so to make it seem like our organization wasn't a complete waste of time, they sent us on all these stupid missions that even the cops would ignore. We had our highs and our lows, but Jankowski arrived just when we'd hit rock bottom."
"I thought F.E.A.R. was created by the U.S. Army," the reporter spoke, now on the edge of his seat.
"Yeah, that's the official unofficial story. It's what we tell the people who already know that F.E.A.R. exists."
"Why the deception?"
"Because, as it is, we get tons of free goodies from defense contractors like Armacham who think it looks good for the military to be using their stuff in the field," Betters explained.
"Okay…" the reporter breathed. "I'm still trying to figure out why America needs a group of hardened soldiers to fix appliances."
"Right, so when I said blowing shit up and fixing appliances, I should have mentioned that they were both the same thing."
"Oh my god…" The reporter's head had, at some point, become buried in his hands.
"That reminds me, if this is going to be on TV then I have some choice words for those politicians." Betters leaned forward, grabbed something off his desk and held it up toward the camera. It was a monochrome image of the explosion in Auburn with a tiny helicopter-shaped dot tilting from the shockwave. The dot was circled with black marker, and an arrow pointed from the words 'That's us, you bastards' toward the circle.
Someone else, perhaps a secretary, had scribbled 'lol, Alma' underneath the dot.
"This is where all your time and money has gone, sir. Thank you."
End