Don't Blink
By Kool Killer
Distance from Site 19: 578 Miles
Current Location: West Richland, WA
Three days later…
Hale and the NTF Epsilon-11 squad were waiting at the staging area, ready to relive MTF squad Gamma-12 who were inbound via helicopter. A couple other squads were standing around guarding death row prisoners that voluntarily agreed to work for the SCP foundation in exchange for their freedom at the end of a month's testing. The prisoners were wearing orange jump suits and were shackled together in pairs, there were fourteen of them. Poor bastards had no idea what was in store for them. One of the inmates looked over at Hale. Hale looked back at him. The inmate was young. The kid had sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes; he didn't look like a killer, nothing close to the guys he was bunched together with. But usually the most fucked up individuals were the ones nobody would suspect. Hale looked over at his sergeant who was pacing around, glancing at his watch. Everyone else was checking their gear over, trying to kill the time. Macaulay looked at his watch and tapped it.
"Gamma twelve is 30 minutes late," Macaulay lowered his hand and adjusted the collar of his black Kevlar vest.
"You want me to raise them Sarge?" Hale placed his left gloved hand on the radio head set connected to his Modular Integrated Communications Helmet. Macaulay shook his head. "Nine Tailed Fox to Gamma twelve," Hale paused, waiting for a response. A couple seconds later and he got a response.
"Gamma twelve to Nine Tailed Fox, sorry for the delay, we had problems opening the overhead hanger doors in site nineteen's vehicle bay, we'll be at your location in five mikes, over," The pilot replied.
"Copy copy," Hale held his hand up with his fingers and thumb extended signaling a five minute waiting period. Macaulay nodded. Hale moved over to Jarvis and sat down on the ammo crate across from him.
"You got any smokes?" Hale held two fingers up to his lips.
"I got you man," Jarvis busted out a pack and held out a cigarette. Hale took it appreciatively. Hale searched his pockets for a lighter but he couldn't find it.
"Forgot my smokes and my light," Hale twirled the cigarette.
"How are you making fuck boy mistakes," Javis smiled and held out his lighter that was lit. Hale chuckled, leaned forward and cupped his hands over the lighter as he lit his cigarette.
"Jarvis, go tip your fedora somewhere else," Hale inhaled his cancer stick.
"You get any edger and you might cut yourself Blight," Devin moved over to Hale and Jarvis. Jarvis offered a cig to Devin who refused it. "That stuff will kill you, it's very bad for the lungs," Devin leaned back from the cigarette like it was the black plague.
"Not according to Marlboro man, he smoked a pack a day" Hale joked.
"How did that work out for him," Devin narrowed his eyes at Hale, smirking.
"Well, he got emphysema and died in his forties," Hale replied.
"Exactly," Devin sat next to Hale. Brant and Dustin moved over to the trio and began shooting the breeze. Soon the sound of a helicopter could be heard in the distance. Sergeant Macaulay called over to the five NTF soldiers.
"Have you two ever considered being on the safety committee?" He Glared over at Hale and Jarvis.
"No, why would we?" Jarvis asked.
"Because you two shit birds are smoking right on top of live ordinance," Macaulay gestured over at the ammo crates Hale and Jarvis were sitting on. Hale and Jarvis did a double take and noticed the explosive warning symbol on the crates they were sitting on. They both made a oh shit face and hopped off them. "Yeah," Macaulay boosted.
Gamma-12's helicopter came into view and began to descend. The helicopter was a large heavily armored pave low. These types of helicopters could shrug off RPG hits and easily fit thirty to forty men. But the amount of fuel they guzzled was absolutely retarded, not that the SCPF was hard up for cash or anything. The pave low landed and the back loading ramp lowered. Gamma-12 off loaded and greeted NTF and the other MTF units with words like, "nice to see you, have a good one, don't do anything I wouldn't do, don't eat the fucking chicken casserole you'll shit yourself to death". They all looked tired and strung out, but who could blame them. Spending three months underground with some of the most dangerous SCP's known to man can really wear on you.
All the prisoners had black hoods placed over their heads and were marched onto the pave low. Nine Tailed Fox boarded next with the remaining MTF units. The ramp to the pave low closed. Hale glanced around inside the helicopter. This pave low didn't have windows to keep those who rode it from finding out site 19's location. Only the pilots and higher ups knew the location of site 19. The door to the cockpit was heavily armored. There was a small rectangular window with tinted bullet proof glass that you could look out from inside the cockpit to see out into the seating area but you couldn't see in. There were red lights lining the walls of the helicopter giving off creepy lighting. Everyone's eyes were black due to the red lights. The helicopter was damn near sound proof. You could barely hear the engine and the sound of the propellers. The pilot activated the internal coms.
"We are cleared for takeoff, next stop, site one niner, two hours max," The pilot then put on some music. Artist, Sonic Mayhem, Song, Quad Machine. The pave low took off and soared up through the air. Hale's stomach sank into his boots. The pilot took off fast as hell.
The flight to site 19 was pretty quick. Halfway there the pilot had asked if anyone had any requests for songs. One of the prisoners had asked for the song, what is a juggalo. The pilot had responded with these exact words," I said pick a song, not a pile of steaming shit," Everyone laughed, except for the one who made the request.
The pave low arrived at the hanger bay for site 19. The overhead doors to the hanger bay began to open, then they stopped and closed shut again. The pilot sounded pissed.
"WOW, when the actual fuck are they going to get this bullshit fixed?" The pilot huffed.
The helicopter hovered for five minutes until the engineers inside the hanger got the overhead hanger doors to open properly. The pave low descended into the hanger and the hangers' ceiling doors closed. The helicopter landed and the pilot turned off the engine. The pave low's ramp lowered and made a metallic thud as it hit the concrete of the hanger floor. Everyone filed off the helicopter. The Inmates were taken to orientation. The remaining NTF and MTF agents reported to command for duty details. Once hale and his team got their assigned sectors they were given their rooms. Hale was rooming with Jarvis, Brant with Devin and Dustin with Macaulay. Hale, Jarvis and Dustin were on night shifts. The others had day shifts, which worked out for Dustin and Macaulay since they would get the room to themselves. After Hale and Jarvis got settled into their room they lounged around for a bit. Since it was 7pm their shifts would start in five hours.
"These twelve hour shifts are going to blow man," Jarvis said from the top bunk.
"Yeah, but eight hour days make the months drag on for 'ever'," Hale emphasized the word.
"True that," Jarvis stayed quiet for a while then smiled diabolically. "I think I'm going to get me some of that chicken casserole those Gamma boys were talking about,"
"Oh fuck no you're not," Hale said.
"You'd better get ready my man, I am going to be making some music with my ass tonight, Ima drop that bass," Jarvis laughed, Hale joined in. They both stopped laughing.
"We better go to the cafeteria before it closes though," Hale got up and headed to the stateroom door.
"Yea, I'm down," Jarvis jumped down from the top bunk. Hale opened the door and turned around.
"I'm serious about that damn casserole, you eat that garbage and your sleeping with the SCP's" Hale pointed at Jarvis. Jarvis snickered. They both exited the state room and left for the cafeteria. Soon the chicken casserole would be the last thing on their minds…