Act 1: Retards by the Number
Gustave was known to be a bright man.
He was a doctor, then became a GIGN medic, and then put himself at the forefront of the Outbreak. As a man of altruism, he didn't put much stock into fighting, gambling, or drama. In fact, he cared very little of all those things.
So it was a mystery why he was now dragged into a betting pool situation. Thermite was on a cot with a cast on his leg. Gustave looked very displeased with the situation, taking notes of whatever he said and felt.
"And how did you get your leg broken?" The doctor sighed.
"I was running a betting pool on who would throw up. Sledge flipped the table and it landed on my leg." Thermite responded, plainly, "Stupid Sledge..." he angrily muttered to himself.
"And why would you run such a betting pool?"
"I like being a dealer. Lesion and Smoke were competing who could eat the grossest thing and people starting betting who would throw up."
Shit.
"You are to rest here." Doc said, putting the clipboard down and immediately ran to the cafeteria.
"Your stomach is strong but mine is stronger!" Liu boasted, eating from his pile of fried chicken feet. "You don't know the depths of Asian cooking, Porter!"
The other operators were cheering and hollering. Doc had walked into a raucous chorus of noise. The SAS were seated at one side to support Porter. The SAT were cheering on Lesion. Smoke was munching on chicken feet, staring down at the Asian man.
"Another dollar for Lesion!" Jackal put a bill into the pile. Since Sledge flipped Thermite's betting table, people have been designating piles of money to each person.
"Five for Smoke!" Ash put a five dollar bill.
"You can fooking do it, son!" Thatcher yelled, arms raised.
"Go get 'em, tiger!" Echo whooped. People stared at him in awe.
"Since when did you come out of the workshop?" Jaeger asked, confused.
"Ying told me too." Jaeger pulled his head back in confusion but shrugged.
"He's still going down, ya whipped nerd!" Valkyrie trash talked from the other side.
With all the noise and racket, Doc was absolutely terrified. People were banging on tables, yelling, chewing, and making a lot of noise. While he had his concern over both Smoke and Lesion, Liu was more to be concerned over.
Lesion was very open about his past, and so people were aware he swallowed plenty of oil water in his youth. This led to possibly pica-like behaviors and risk-taking actions. Gustave has caught the man drinking aqueduct water through a life straw, licking salt lamps in the therapy rooms, eating expired food items, eating drywall to prove it wasn't drugs to Bandit (that man had a host of other issues), and chewing on Montagne's shield.
Ying then emerged out of the kitchen with two eggs in hand. She shouted, "This is balut!" Everyone cheered and screamed. Some pounded the tables in rhythm.
"Ha!" Smoke finished his chicken feet and crossed his arms triumphantly.
"I've seen white men like you eat this item," Lesion chuckled, "It never ends well."
"Let's see about that." Smoke replied.
"Never knew Ying's crazy driving would actually be helpful for once," Ela commented from a distant table.
"Wait, what happened?" Zofia was curious.
"When she came, all us girls went for ice cream. We told her directions to the place but she missed an exit and ended up in a Filipino restaurant. The place and people were actually good."
"Well then."
Doc was making his way through the center of the center of the room. He had the dodge the constantly hungry Russians and the sight of Rook and Blitz together. Rook was making a lanyard in GSG-9 colors while Blitz leaned on him. Swallowing thickly, he remembered that Lesion almost had an ulcer from his questionable eating habits. He figured a whole milk should help either of them in a pinch, since balut was known to be very salty. He made his way to the cafeteria line, where Tachanka was standing there.
"Finka, how much longer?" The Russian giant asked.
"IQ's just getting there, love!" Finka yelled from a distance.
"Make that two more, please!" Doc yelled. IQ immediately ran out of there with four cartons of whole milk. She tossed two to Finka and two to Doc. Finka gave one to Tachanka then sat down to watch. Doc jogged over.
"Liu, please think about your hypertension-" Doc called to him.
But it was too late.
Both already cracked the shells open and ate the balut. Lesion casually chewed on the chick fetus and so did Smoke. Both seemed rather fine with it, until Smoke stopped eating. The Brit froze in his seat, gripping his fingers on the table. He then started to convulse and hold his stomach. His cheeks were puffed and he held a pained expression.
A mere seconds later, Smoke projectile vomited on Lesion. Lesion leapt back from his seat, positioning himself in the way that kept his portion of balut clean. Smoke began to continue vomiting in the same fashion. He tried to get into the trash can but missed. He then slipped on his vomit and landed in the trash can.
The crowd erupted into screaming, cheering and laughing. Doc grimaced and put down a whole milk for Lesion.
"I am going to check on the both you." The doctor said tersely, "Don't think you can wriggle out of this." He made his way to Smoke.
However, he then slipped into a pile of vomit and landed face first into it. A small crowd laughed at him as the other whole milk flew into the trash can.
After a shower or two, Doc was back on his feet and checking vitals. He made both Lesion and Smoke shower and then made them lather in disinfectant. For Lesion he checked his blood.
"It's a miracle your A1c levels and your blood pressure are normal after everything you ate," Doc groaned, "And that ulcer hasn't changed. I suggest you should stop this nonsense and adopt a sensible diet. One that doesn't include chicken fetus or infected water."
"Am I clear to go, Gus?" Lesion smiled, even with the tongue scraper in his mouth.
"Yes, but for the love of god, drink some filtered water next time."
"Thank you for your service." He walked out of there.
"You, Porter, on the other hand," Doc turned to the Brit, "Have acquired food poisoning." Smoke laid on his bed in a fetal position, lowly grumbling. "Your vitals are normal but a diet of beer, expired food, offals, and things not meant to be consumed put you down a similar road. I'm guessing that week old sushi you ate is the culprit."
"...Dammit, I bloody lost," Smoke groaned.
"Sledge, please tell Porter to eat a plain diet of toast, bananas, rice, and apples." Doc turned to Sledge, who carried the sicker Brit into his room.
"I'm sorry for talking shit about Smoke. When you're a dealer, shit gets heated you know," Thermite croaked from the side. Sledge stared wordlessly and then looked at Smoke, gently petting his head.
"As much you want to take him back, I'm not allowing you. He needs to rest. You're welcome to visit as you like." Sledge gave a nod and left.
"Hey, Gus!" A voice greeted from outside.
Doc sprinted to see who it was, then stepped on a dustpan. The handle rose up quickly to swat him in the crotch. He made gargling noises to only see Montagne. The French giant giggled as Doc started muttering French curses. Even Thermite and Smoke has some fun at his expense.
After some rest, Gustave joined the others in cleaning the cafeteria.
Just as Six gave a speech about food was for eating not meant for means of gambling, the alarm went off. Everyone scrambled to their lockers and armory, but she shushed them. Shutting off the alarm, she made everyone sit back down to the meeting room.
"There are lives in danger, Six!" Jaeger protested.
"Indeed, there are but this is a sensitive mission. There has been a White Mask attack in a mountain town in Colorado, America." Six corrected him, "According to this map, there is a sparse population of people. This mission is sensitive because we need to be quick and quiet. The town is known to be a magnet of controversy. For this reason we're only going to need four operators." The map showed a rectangular state with very little electricity.
"Then who's going to come?" Jaeger continued.
"Rook will be there for riot control and basic defense. Doc will be there to administer aid to both civilians and the others. Mute will come because in an area with so little technology, he can cripple the White Masks easily. Last but not least, Tachanka will come in fortifications and stationary firepower. The rest of you are dismissed."
"That's such a strange setup..." Rook mused, "I understand Gus and me but Tachanka and Mute?" The crowd scattered save Blitz.
"Come back in one piece, yeah?" Blitz gave a kiss on the younger man's forehead.
"PDA, Kotz..." Six sternly admonished him. Blitz scampered away. Turning to the summoned four, "This is what we call Operation Mountain Town." She changed windows on the screen, leading to a layout of the room. It was an abandoned storage unit, mostly empty in the center with a surrounding overhang. "We are known that the White Masks have a hostage in this storage unit," she pointed to the center with a big red X on it.
"So are they camping out in there?" Tachanka asked, "So just an extraction, yes?"
"…Not exactly." Six answered, "But yes."
"Is that it?"
"Yes."
The four were now on an airplane in transit to the mountain town. Tachanka was eating a bag of gummy worms while the other three twiddled their thumbs.
"Hey, Alexsandr, mind if I have some candy please?" Doc asked, looking at Rook's tempted face. The younger Frenchman was looking towards and away from the candy.
"Well, bratan, I don't have any halal candy."
"I'm not even practicing!" Doc threw his hands up in the air.
"Don't you want an apple instead?" Tachanka sneered, getting into Gustave's face. The doctor pushed him away.
"…Can I have some?" Rook asked, sheepishly, rubbing his knuckles together.
"Of course you can," The Russian grabbed a handful and put it in Rook's hands.
"Merci!" Rook's eyes lit up as he voraciously ate the gummy worms. He did a seated giddy dance. It warmed Doc's heart to see him like this to the point of smiling.
"Stop melting like glaciers and fucking jump already!" Mute mumbled through his gas mask.
"Shit, you're right, Mute!" Rook finished. The four gathered their parachutes and jumped off the plane one by one.
The sky was dark, with very little cloud cover. Six was right, there was very little lighting save the streetlights and the security lights. The building they were aiming for was incredibly boxy, where cubes were lined up in an L-shape. Peeking over the roofs, they had orange and white stripes. They concluded it was a storage unit and they dove in. Upon twenty kilometers, they pulled out their parachutes and slowly landed. All four approached the ground and prepared themselves, loading their guns.
"The snowfall is sleet at best, we have a clear view," Rook hugged the wall of the biggest storage unit.
"Da, no one on the outside," Tachanka agreed. He was behind Rook, holding a pistol to his chest, "Mute?"
"Aye, setting jammer," Mute whispered, setting up his jammer on the ground. The lights immediately shorted, and darkness fell over. However, the darkness was short when the streetlamps ran on gasoline.
A boy in a brown hat was playing a video game on his computer, clicking and typing away. He noticed his character stopped moving, and started to call out to his friend over Discord. Every iteration of his friend's name was more panicked until he stopped to notice that all applications said he was disconnected. Panicking, he leapt downstairs to check the router.
Dead.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
He went back upstairs to put on his brown coat. Luckily his friend lived very close to him, grabbing his only his cellphone and wallet. He came out of the back door and went through the carved hole. It lead to his friend's house.
His friend was equally frustrated, tossing down his controller. He was pale with red hair. He then put on his green ushanka and parka. The boy took the same initiative and went out of the house.
Both boys met up at the redhead's backyard. The boy in the brown hat started, "Dude, my internet just died!"
"Dude, mine too!" The red head groaned in agreement, "Everything's dark! All dark!" It was true, the light of their cellphones illuminated whatever immediate space around.
"Whatever happened here was not kewl," Another boy spoke up. This one was portly, and he waddled to the other two boys.
"We're gonna see who the hell is behind this," The brown hat boy exclaimed, shining his cellphone forward.
"Maybe we should bring him along too, wait…" The redhead continued.
"Yeah, he's probably fucked the most 'cuz he's poor!" The portly boy commented, "So we gotta help 'em!"
"Shut up, fatass!" The redhead retorted.
"It's true, you fucking Jew!" The fat boy yelled back.
"Guys, guys, shut up!" The boy in the brown hat slammed his hands down, "Our power and our internet are gone so it's important we gotta go see him now!" The boys marched forward to their poor friend's house.
Rook, Tachanka, Mute, and Doc were lined up at the wall leading up to the entrance of the storage unit. Six's intel told them there was a single hostage. It was strange, just one hostage but with a rather large ransom on her head. There was too little vision to do anything.
With the lack of light, the men decided to rappel up to the upper door. Rook led and opened the door, giving a go-ahead signal using two of his fingers. The other three followed, using the darkness and cat-like tread to cover themselves on the wired balcony. They soon discovered that there was only a single source of light: a lone lamp hanging over a female hostage's head. She was tied up to a chair.
The men silently counted that there was seven White Masks surrounding her. Two flanking the front door, two flanking the back door, and three were near the empty boxes. With nods and head shakes, they swiftly maneuvered themselves into some large boxes in every corner of the room from the balcony. Mute noticed he was very close to a White Mask.
He twirled his way out of cover to grab the man and covered his mouth. The Brit stabbed the man and gently let him down. He gathered some boxes and stayed behind them.
It was Rook's turn to strike as he cracked another White Mask's neck but he let him drop with a thud. This soft thud alerted the rest, turning to Rook. They started shooting at him, but the younger Frenchman rolled behind a large cargo box. This was a good distraction for them, as Tachanka was slowly setting up his LMG before it happened.
Tachanka cornered himself and started to fire with his LMG. He sprayed across the room, catching a good amount of the White Masks. Doc grabbed the woman in the chair and took her into another corner of the room. Mute gave suppressing fire as the doctor was untying the woman.
It went rather smoothly, much to the men's surprise. There was minimal noise from the outside, and none of the terrorists had approached them or the hostage.
"Are you okay, mademoiselle?" Doc addressed the woman.
"Yes… yes, I am," She sounded hollow, wringing her hands. She was a petite woman, with pale skin and brown hair in a bun, "Thank you. My name is Anya Bradford, by the way."
"Let's get you out of here, Anya," Tachanka added, helping the woman up.
"I am forever in your debt!" Anya cheerfully cried, hugging Tachanka, "As a former Google developer, I will reward you handsomely!"
"No need, lady."
"Do we have to call anyone?" Mute added.
"No," Anya giggled nervously, "I live near here. I can walk." She gathered herself and tried to walk. Tachanka helped her up again.
While the three men walked the hostage out, four young boys were hanging out at the back of the room.
"This is kind of creepy," The boy in the brown hat said, "There's only one light."
"Whoa, there's dead bodies!" The boy in the green cap gasped, pointing to a White Mask.
"That hostage was hot! Nice titties and a tight ass!" The boy in the parka whooped, muffled by his orange parka.
"So this is why our power died," The fat boy looked at the jammer, "Ay, turn that shit off so we can play video games again!" He brayed in the direction of the men who were just coming back.
Rook emerged from a large cargo box, clutching his side. His pupils widened in fear at the sight of four young children behind him. The children released a wonderous 'Ooooh' at the sight of the thickly built French military man in front of them. After a few gasps and coughs, he wheezed, "We're almost done, children. Worry not, we'll turn the jammer off and you children can play. Actually, I don't think you children should be out here this late." He gave a dismissive handwave.
"Rook!" Tachanka jerked in his direction, "I forgot about you for a second!"
"Julien!" Doc turned just as swift, "Don't move." He readied his Stim Pistol, aiming at Rook.
"He's got a gun!" The boy in the green ushanka screamed, moving next to Rook and then backward. Doc twitched, forcing him to pull the trigger early.
The pistol went into the boy's chest, where he let out a panicked wail. The boy in the brown hat held and dragged him back. Tachanka and Mute froze, staring intently at Doc.
"Gus, what the hell?" Rook yelled between coughs, "You shot a child!" Doc then shot again, getting his friend this time, "Ow!" Rook sat against the wall, "Go home children!"
"Wait, let me pull it out!" Doc gasped, running towards the boy in the green ushanka, but the other boys shielded him.
"What the hell man? You shot my best friend!" The brown-hatted boy replied indignantly. His best friend's eyelids were heavy, and he was dragging his feet.
"Yeah, fuck you guys!" The fat boy yelled back, "You drugged him!"
"Let me explain-" Doc tried to speak.
"I already pulled it out," The boy in the orange parka held the syringe sideways and dropped it, "Thanks and no thanks, sir."
Suddenly, the ginger boy's eyes widen and he stood upright. Next, he took a huge breath and shook his arms out. It was like he was never shot. "Dude, I can breathe again! Holy shit!"
"…That was the epinephrine, child. Are you alright?" Doc retracted his hands in confusion.
"Sure, I have a little bleeding from my chest, but I can really breathe again!"
"Are you sure?"
"I promise."
Doc gave the child a bandage, "If you have any issues at all, please call this number," He procured a business card and put it in his pocket. Rook remembered he had some candy and handed it over to them, "You children need to get home now."
After a chorus of 'thank you sirs' and 'good night', all four men waved goodbye awkwardly as the boys walked back to their homes.
"Six, the hostage is safe and now in custody." Mute spoke into the radio.
A/N: I know this is a departure of what I usually do, but I hope this is enjoyable to read! R&R!