Secret Agent...hick?
Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable characters in this fiction, they all belong to Valve. I also do not own the song 'secret agent man', I DON'T OWN ANYTHING BUT MY IDEAS.
my third story and my second on going one. I'm so excited, so without further adue...enjoy and review.
Chapter prolouge:Before it all began
The wind blew slightly, stirring up particles of dust in its wake. The containment facility was on high alert and was more active than usual. More dangerous. The compound had all its defenses up. The uppers had even brought out the elite special guards to protect this shit hole.
Darkness.
That's all there was on the outside of the enclosed prison and said testing site. The only light that could be seen within miles were the search lights that were illuminating the said facility in an almost threatening glow. But the darkness was also there. Was always there. Darkness that mocks your every misjudged move as you try and navigate your way through. The shadow caused from the moon shaded the world in a variety of whites, grey and blacks. But beyond the gated grounds there was nothing more than an overgrown forest. The trees were as tall as buildings, seeming to have never before been tampered by the defiling hands of mankind. It was dense and lush, but no sounds of birds could be heard from inside the ever growing forest, no tracks leading into the shrubs that so generously spread across the hard ground. There was nothing, save for the hideously horrendous sounds of screeching, moaning and more often than to be a comfort, the crying of what would seem to be a small girl. These were the cries of the infected, of the dead. This forest though teeming with life, was hollow, motionless, dark...dead.
Far beyond the Dead Forest lay a city in ruins. Its once proud buildings that once stood proud and tall now lay in a disgraceful heap. The smell of smoke was strong enough to make your nose cringe in disgust. The streets were broken apart as though someone or something had pulled parts of the heavy solid concrete from the roads causing it to take on the appearance of a giant puzzle. Weeds over grew everywhere, sprouting up on the piles of rubbish that were once office buildings, over the side walks and all through out the streets. And just like the forest, this place too was dead. The only sounds were some roars and chilling maniacal laughter. Though only rumors, it was enough to give pause, were the ghostly hollow coughing that could be heard on moonless nights. Of course, no one was around to hear it, no one alive anyway.
Through out this desecrating damaged land the smell of rotting and decaying flesh hung heavy and thick in the already moist and damp air. In fact the odor was so thick that you can even taste the putrid substance on the tip of your taste buds, causing them to sting and pucker in protest.
No one in their right mind would think about going up against a forest of snaring monstrous undead beasts who lurked around every shadowed corner. Or even dare tread the path through the city to even get close to the Dead Forest. Nope no one. Not the Marines, not Air Force, not the Navy and certainly not the Army. The FBI and CIA took great care to avoid this group. So who did that leave?
This group had stations everywhere on this quickly under populating infected world. Stations that were bigger and better than the fortress they put on display for dead eyes to see. Ones that were even more gruesome in the way of testing and killing. They were the nastiest people you would ever meet. They only care about themselves and no one else. Looking out for numero uno was always one of there mottos. They were garbage. The scum even below the infected. Who are in charge of helping those poor people who came down with a mysterious virus. But were they doing their job? Were they using their power for good? Not in the slightest. In fact, they were abusing their power to help themselves to become more powerful. They were a bunch of greedy slobs. No good fart-munchers.
The scum of the scum, CEDA.
Even though the city was wroth with zombies, even though the forest was full of infected individuals and even though he was alone. One person braved those odds, and why? Because it was his job.
The man clad in black made his way swiftly over to remains of an infected that he had the displeasure of meeting. His feet smashed against the soft ground as he moved to kneel behind a pile of discarded metal cans full of bio hazard material. The yellow and green cans could very well hide four dead bodies if needed. How it was positioned left a little cove that was only concealed from sight by the size of the stacked forms towering against the outer wall of the facility. If it could successfully hide four bodies it could very easily hide one living life form.
For a minute he knelt there thinking of what could possible be in those cans. Contaminated blood? Goo from and unfortunate infected? Maybe vile puked out by those fat unlucky one? Or worse?
But his mind was not allowed to wander for too long fore his High Tec wrist watch transmitter started to pick up the desired frequency that he needed. Static started on the other end of the line before a rather familiar voice could be heard on the side. It was HQ.
"Do you read me agent?"
"Affirmative."
"I was ordered to give you explicit instructions to-"
"Not to be rude sir but I already know the drill, so if you could just get on with it I'll do my job and be done with it."
"Alright. Fine. But it's just procedure. Don't get all up in my ass-"
"I'm waiting." The agent could hear much grumbling on the other end of the line, causing him to smirk.
"Fine Nick-"
"Oh no you don't. That's not my agent name." This time around he could hear shouting and much cussing on the other end.
"REALLY!"
"Yep." He always loved pissing off the higher ups in his division. It always made for a good laugh.
"Fine! This is a simple routine mission Conman-00..."
Nick smiled. He had always loved that name. Even though he himself wasn't a Conman, his father was. And he had always wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. The agent fondly recalled how his dad would come home with a big smile on his face when he had won it big. The potent smell of dirty money perfumed the air that would soon be accompanied with the smell of lobster and other fine assortments for a fabulous dinner to celebrate his winnings. The look on his mother's face when her husband brought home the jackpot was unforgettable. She loved him so much. But love didn't stop the mob from coming. Didn't stop the mob from killing his family. Didn't stop the mob from beating the living day lights out of him and leaving him for dead.
Even though it ended badly for is father, Nick still wanted to be just like that, but was he? No. Instead he was a ultra top secret field agent undergoing impossible missions ,using top secret gadgets and always traveling beating the odds that today may be his last day. Yeah, top secret stuff. How boring.
"...All you have to do is scale that 50 foot wall in front of you. Then, make your way passed the 'SI' guards, be careful, they are fully loaded down with the standard sub machine guns. Then, make sure you stay out of sight of the laser grids. Watch out for any land mines, surveillance cameras and the shark pit moats..."
Shark pit moats? Damn these people mean business.
"...that are scattered through out the grounds. You must also get passed the ravenous infected dogs as well as the regular guards with standard M-16's in their arsenal. Once you have done that, you are all in the clear as you narrowly pass unseen by the searching lights that are linked to any and all alarms in the compound and deal with the Highly operational security system that will lead you inside the reinforced steel building where you will blend in and become one with your surrounding or risk being shot on sight or worse... Experience horrible painful suffering for trespassing upon restricted grounds..."
Oh, is that all?
"...But once inside you must gather as much intelligence as you can on this CEDA corporation and their mission and objectives. Also-"
There was static on the other end and Nick cursed himself inwardly. Why the hell did he have to do this crap? He was too old for this. Just too old.
Nick quickly regretted that he had hopped at the chance to go on this mission. What was he thinking? But before he could begin to form his next thought his transmitter screeched back to life.
"Did you copy the new information Conman-00?" The transmitter must have continued on with its briefing even though he was not able to receive it.
"No." Nick replied into his watch. "Please relay the new information to me hence forth, Control." Nick was slightly irritated by the fact that now he had something else to do besides the ridiculous laundry list they had already previously assigned him.
"I said that there are survivors in the vicinity. Test subjects for the CEDA scientists to work on. They are CEDA's lad rats."
"Are they immune?"
"Once," Nick could hear what sounded like a sigh through his transmitter, but was unable to identify the sound because of the static. "But we have reason to believe that CEDA, with all their experiments on them, have mutated them beyond all hope. Your new job is to kill off all these genetically mutated hybrids -"
"Kill off human beings?" Nick was horrified that they didn't even hint at the idea, but to bluntly came out and said it. The voice was cold and human less as Nick heard an affirmative pass through the speaker of his watch. This wasn't right. I can't be right. They were still human after all. Right?
"But aren't they still human? Can't they be saved? They are-were innocent."
"They once. They once were all those things operative. But not anymore. They are monsters now. Horribly deformed disgusting and blood thirsty, flesh eating monsters."
"But still. It's not their fault that they were-"
"Since when do you care for someone Conman-00?"
Nick flushed. He was only being human. Thinking and clinging to the last hope that maybe, just maybe they could be saved. Even if he knew that even with a miracle, it was impossible to save them. But call him human, he liked to lie to himself and say that everything was going to be ok when he very well knew that they weren't going to be.
They didn't deserve to die. After all, they just didn't walk right up to CEDA waving their arms and shouting "Hey. Let me be your test subject. Pretty please? I wont struggle or anything. I'll even give up my children, and my spouse, hell I'll leave my entire family if you want. No? How about a handy-J?" Nick seriously doubted that.
"I don't."
"Good, because I would hate to lose my pessimist-"
"Shut the fuck up dickhead." He had meant it playfully but the words came out harsher than intended.
"Good. Then you will have no problem dealing with this task then. Right?"
If Nick said 'no' then he would be in for an earful when he got back to head quarters, and God knew he didn't want that. He'd rather keep his limbs thank you very much. So even if it went against everything that screamed inside of him, he agreed.
"Yes."
"Good choice agent."
"How many are there?"
"What?"
Nick had to take a few deep breathes before continuing. "I asked how many there were."
"Hold on one second agent and I will read you the report."
There was a click and some rustling on the other end of the line, then out of no where music started playing, disrupting the stillness of the night and causing Nick to jump up, obviously startled.
What the fuck?
It took him a minute to calm down realizing that it was from his transmitter and not some weird sort of alarm. He knelt back down in the safely of the metal cans after taking a quick survey of the surrounding area.
The wind had ceased long ago and now the moon illuminated the ground and bathing it in an ominous light. The ground emanated with a scene so beauty that he believed it to be not of this Earth. Well, at least not of this infected world. This world turned beauty and mutated into something ghastly. It was appalling and unfair. But then again, the world wasn't fair. Never has been and never will.
There's a man how lives a life of danger.
To everyone he meets he stays a stranger.
Nick blinked. They put him on hold….
THEY PUT HIM ON FUCKING HOLD! What the fuck was this? A football game at half time? And what was with this mus-
Secret Agent man.
Secret Agent man.
They've given you a number….
The music stopped Nick in his mindless ranting. Secret Agent Man! He loved this song! It didn't belong on some elevator fill in music list. He grew up listening to this song. Although he had to admit, he did change the words around just a little to fit his childhood dream of playing in back ally ways and one day, big casinos working the tables.
Once he got moving boy, there was no stopping him. And soon, un-involuntarily, and unbeknownst to him, his body began to react to the music as he started tapping his foot on the cold Earth floor. Nick closed his eyes and started to hum along to the words. He knew he probably looked like an insane wacko who escaped from the Looney bin a little too early for society's liking.
Nick knew that he could very well blow his cover, but at this moment he didn't care.
He needed to relax, even for this moment. You know? Wasn't there some famous dead guy in the past that use to say that? That you should live in the moment. That you shouldn't take things for granted. Nick smirked. Thanks old man, you've helped me a lot through the years and it almost makes me sad to think you are decaying in the ground being shit on by the ungrateful bugs whom devoured and consumed you. And without his consent, his mind began to pile heavy unwanted weight in his thoughts. The weight hurt, but also felt exhausting. And what was his mind wandering to? Why, none other than his past. The past two months to be exact.
Those excruciatingly exhausting two months that seemed to drag on and on to the point where one day rolled into the next and you didn't even know what day it was anymore. It seemed that time had come to a stand still, or the very least, a slow crawl.
Nick had had twenty-seven consecutive rigorous missions in a row. He remembered being exhausted. He remembered being just so God damn tired. Heart shattering, emotionally draining, mind fucking tired. The pain of moving or even so much as thinking of moving sent painful electric shock waves through his worn-out and weary form. All the stress of being put up for missions one after the other without any time to recoup was beginning to add themselves up. He just needed this one out-let. Just this one.
Before he even knew what he was doing he was standing up and dancing. And not just the clumsy rhythmic sway socially awkward teens do at high school dances. Nope, he was swaying his hips shacking his butty, pointing his fingers and singing along to the music as though it was the last thing he would ever do on this hell stricken planet. He thoughts? What the hell? No one could see him. No one could judge him or laugh at him. He was alone save for the crying and screeching heard in the distance. No one was watching his descent into insanity, except maybe the Dead Forest that silently stood there waiting...watching.
Let him be free to be the weird one for once. Why the hell not?
"Odds are he wont live to see tomorrow. SECRET AGENT MAN, SECRET AGENT MAN." The agent's deep baritone voice was slightly too off key to be in complete tune, but he was enjoying himself and that was all that mattered. He felt on top of the world, nothing could distract him now. Not even his transmitter roaring back to life stopped Nick from his shenanigans. Even when the music stopped, Nick didn't notice. Only when the delightfully oblivious agent heard a muffled laughing did he finally realize what had happened.
"Stop laughing you Dickweed!" Nick was not furious but more so humiliated. He was just glad that he couldn't see him dancing. If he had seen that Nick knew he would have had to kill him.
"Oh just shut up and tell me what you have!"
"I'm very impressed with your singing Nick, I would have thought you the-"
"Shut u-"
"Did you take choir in high school?"
"SAY ONE MORE THING ABOUT IT AND I SWEAR, SO HELP ME GOD, I WILL KILL YOU!"
"What, by serenading me to death?" Nick could hear an amused chuckle from the speaker transmitter.
Nick growled and the man seemed to get the hint because the chuckling was now replaced with an dismissive cough.
"Right, well...There are approximately five test subjects in the holding chambers. They underwent both tremendous and horrendous sessions in their time in the CEDA compound. Two females and three males. But that is all the information that we were about to retrieve. We know not their names or of their previous life before their imprisonment. You know your orders Conman-00, now do it."
Nick was somewhat sad by the fact that he gave into killing the innocent that easily. He wasn't heartless, he had a heart he had to admit. And it was bleeding.
There was a long pause before Nick finally gave in to his orders. "Yes."
"Good. HQ out. Report back to us within the 72 hour time period agent or we are to presume the worst." And with that, the line went dead.