Recording 02

Play

*Static burst

July the 17th, 2035

Ever experienced a nightmare? I'm sure you do. Everyone does. But thing is, nightmares go away once you wake. They don't fucking try to rip your guts out, beat you to death or tear your face off in the morning. Well that's what we're in. A nightmare each and every passing day. Every morning I wake up I find myself wishing I could rewind the fucking clock, hell I'm even starting to miss listening to old Mrs Venison bitch about the republicans every afternoon, you know? Little stuff we ignore everyday, but once the circumstances change well, you get my point.

Yeah, so, once we basically signed our own Fuck-My-Life-For-Eternity-Contract, the Armory was the next stop. Located 2 floors lower and big enough to store some gunships in. This guy, Thomas Imelda, I'm not sure if he's still working there, he was the IC of the place. Big, stout, got a big thing with the ladies and a heavy drinker. The day I see him without a liquor is the day my ex-wife comes back to me.

We'd have a little chat and everything before we accessed our kit. Kevlar became obsolete in 2015, everyone knows this but I'm just givin' you a reminder. We use good old Silica-plates, some kind of synthetic shit the German eggheads cooked up in '13. Turns out at just 3 centimeters the material had the capacity to stop a .50 cal round at point blank.

Months later, boom! Everyone's using it.

Of course, N-CyGenetic's Elite Security Force members use single centimeter double layered vests, packed with bandoliers and basic combat attachments. What makes us scary and unique to other mercenary groups is our facemask. Ever read that book, Warhammer 40k? Well some asshole in the RnD obviously was a nerd of these franchises and made berth the Mark VI GUNGNIR Helmet, resembling fiercely to a Death Korps Helmet. It ends its similarity in the rebreather and helmet, where those fictional badasses had one long bulky tube attached to the backpack and a pointy helmet, we have a number of thin and durable wires that feeds filtered oxygen into the helmet from the generator powering our suit plus 22nd Century silica-made Advanced Combat Helmet or ACH.

The suit, ah, I miss being in it, shame that we had to ditch it so nobody could track us some years ago. It was made fully by that synthetic shit I spoke of earlier, it enhances the human body up to 40% peak capability despite the bulky appearance plus the greaves were pure brass, meaning i could literally punch my fist into some fucker's head and expect the skull to cave in or worse.

Right, right, rambling again. Sorry.

As we were putting on our suits, conversations shot back and forth, mostly between Eyes, McFarlene and that chatterbox, Jem. Was it about Gangnam style or that pansy Korean whore, Hyuna, I'll never know, I don't care anyway, that bitch lost her career when Kpop died because of some corporate scam back when I was a High School nerd.

Wait, I remember, it wasn't about the Asian hippie trend at all, the convo went more like this.

"It's a baaad day to die," mumbled the ex-Marine as he fumbled with his combat gloves, Eyes was at the corner, cleaning his eyelenses meticulously humming some french tune. Merkav and Zack were passing their equipment to one another.

"Aye, and to think, a day. I mean a DAY without actually putting a bullet in some fucker's head...I was starting to love yesterday. What's your opinion on this Jacko?"

"Farlene, If putting a bullet tween' the eyes of another nigga' means I get a hundred bucks more for my family, shit why the hell not? Then again, I'm not one for precision shots, its blood and guts for me baby!" roared the african-american as he revved up his minigun, thankfully there were no live rounds inside or we'd all been swiss cheese before the fight even began.

McFarlene turns to me when conversations get sour. He always does.

"Abe' comeon, you're obviously against this. Why the hell did they even put us back in action?"

"I dunno, but it must be pretty important." I slid the 6 inch steel blade in the sheath as I replied.

"Or they're desperate."

"Or both."

McFarlene laughs.

Trevor then came barging in, Sweet Williams Cigar hanging off his mouth, obviously pissed off.

"Alright you pricks, who took my fucking wielding tool!" Course everyone was too busy laughing to listen at that time, one thing about Trevor, he ALWAYS keeps his wielding tool in storage room B and once in a while he'd forget.

"Comeon, guys, the last time it went missing it was in B room!"

Pack fiddled with his gas mask as he answered. "Storage B, comrade. You always put it there, da'vai I follow you. Need to take something there also."

Jem came up to me in a wierd posture, his helmet switched on but he wasn't suited yet. There was a slight burst of fizzling as the voice scrambler from the mic was powered on.

"Abe'"

Moaned the guy, doing this bad impression of Darth Vader. I decide to tag along.

"Yes, honey?"

"Come over to the dark side..."

A new voice joined in; Eyes.

"Jem, Suck my dick,"

His throaty scrambled voice garbled through the helmet and native french accent caused everyone to laugh. Zack, bloody idiot was fiddling with his voice scrambler, so it wasn't a surprise when his voice came out higher than that piece of shit, Alvin the fucking chipmunk. Convos and laughter alike were rife, and, lookin' back I missed our friendly banter.

Once were fully suited, we rejoined Pack and Trevor in Storage Room B, coincidentally was where weapons and ammunition were stored. I slipped my gas mask in place and was flashed with the Heads Up Display, the targeting systems ran wild, checking out everyone else in greenish tint. Meaning allies. The tactical Map and Heartbeat sensor came up online a few seconds later along with the suit's cooling system which vents heat out the body to mantain room temperature for the user throughout.

Everyone was happy in the sense to have a feel of their guns again. I missed my Desert Eagle, an extinct firearm schoolkids woould never probably heard of. Yeah, I had it with me back in my heydays in the Police Force. Bitch costed me 6 months worth of pay but money well spent nontheless. Saved my life more than I care to count.

"Right, Everyone!" I called out, Jem and Zack stole glances at each other, fists raised meaning obviously one of the two fucked something up and were gonna have a go at each other. I bloody ignored them, we were already behind schedule.

"Grab your kit, eat your shit and meet me in the Hangar Bays in 10, I want everyone suited, booted and strapped. Full Combat Load, maximum effort. Now move!"

Let me tell you one thing, it doesn't matter if you're a rookie or a veteran, spec-ops, black-ops or just a cookie-cutter grunt. The thought of never coming back from an operation would scare the shit out of you and that's how I felt; How everyone felt. Scared shitless. You can't really see it with our spookie helmets covering our face but you can judge from their behaviour.

Merkav was unloading and re-loading his mag into his rifle, Trevor was holding on to the support railing way too tightly, hell, not even Mortensen or Jacko spoke a word. We just sat there in the fucking heli, waiting for our stop, before that, this corporate agent had to give us a last minute briefing.

I never saw him afterwards, God knows what's been done to him to cover up N-CyGen's dirty secret.

The display lit up from the palm of his hands, a mini holo projector, connected to his wrist. He gave what sounded like a grunt before continuing.

"At 2311 Hours, Standard Pacific Time, our facility located several hundred feet underground has gone dark. The facility," The image of some structure in 3D form flashed in green hue of light.

"Is known as Arkadian II, located deep within the desert of Utah, away from prying eyes, Arkadian II is a joint project between N-CyGen Biotech Corporations and the US Government. It's staffed with over 1000 personnel from our top scientists."

I noticed the other guys were giving quick glances to one another, some whispered over the personal comms about how high the shit we are in. Oh there's no doubt we're in deep shit, just how high we were about to find out.

"It went dark, as suddenly as it came, security footages were destroyed, whatever feeds we got were of mass panic and hysteria spreading throughout the entire facility. Local security enforces were apparently overrun and - as a matter of fact, we sent a response of 2 ESF squads, Tetra and Orion Squad. They too were...compromised."

"Compromised? As in, dead?"

Trevor spoke, his voice low and ragged due to the rebreather and voice scrambler his helmet spurred. The Agent looked at us, all of us with that cold steely glare. After what came to be the longest 10 seconds in our lives, the spitfuck responded.

"We don't know."

More questions were raised, questions and hypothesis alike were flung once again back and forth in the heli, we assumed it must've been one of the other corporate saboteurs out for some valuable secrets witheld deep inside the laboratory, MD-Corps were famous for employing their black-ops agents so we assumed it was them. But the truth was far more fucking disturbing and far-fetched.

After the briefing, we spent the rest of the trip in total silence, each of us contemplating in dealing with pre-combat fears. I mean at the time, to die hundreds of fucking meters down a hole is a scary thought not to mention where no one would recover your body at the very least.

We rappelled down, 200 meters away from the primary location, our Nav Points showing us the direction. It was 2am, or was it 3 when we were doing this? Never mind, it doesn't matter, nothing much does now anyways.

So, we made our way to the underground lab, the cover up given was one of the most retarded one ever yet; of all things, a Petrol kiosk with a backroom elevator that would take one down the shaft 500 meters down. Seriously, N-CyGen is one fucked up Research and Development Corporation. The air was still and quiet, the nearest signs of human life were at least 5 miles out, so that should make our job easier without collateral damage.

We moved at a comfortable walking pace, chatting it up with one another through the squad channel, our only give-away to the world were the red lenses our helmets sported, like a fiery demon from hell, armed to the teeth and ready to face whatever the hell was lurking in that shithole. But we were wrong, we weren't prepared.

We were more likely considered well-armed lambs to the slaughter.

It began raining as we were halfway there, it didn't help since we were a hundred metres out, but good news was our suits were fully covered and waterproof. Jem began complaining then followed by Zack and Trevor, then Jacko as the downpour got real fucking heavy. Equipment is good but seriously, having your HUD fogged up with condensing water vapour on your eye-lenses is really a shit on a stick.

"Move, move!"

Growled Merkav as he began sprinting to the petrol kiosk, lights were on, everything looks normal minus the bodies; no blood, nothing. But at least we were out of the rain. Lighting was getting tipsy, as the heavy rain began affecting the electrical appliances in the cover-up store. The thudding and pelting of rain gave a bit of a soothing effect.

"Where's the skeleton crew?" voiced Zack as he slipped his helmet off and strapping it against his thigh, the others followed.

"Don't know, whatever it is, it ain't good." called Jaff from the back as he and Jacko secured the "employees room" which was actually a server room with direct feeds to Command.

"Jem, take 3 guys and set a perimeter, Eyes you're on overwatch get your french ass to the top. Yes it's raining fucktard I can see that, suck it up or your pay's slashed 30 percent!"

As the french got to his uncomfortable post, I oversaw the rest of the process of turning the kiosk into a mini outpost. Jaff called Pack over, the bumbling Russian techie came bouncing in, his 74U slung sideways, stock folded and all with his electronic equipment, he knelt down and jabbed an optical drive into one of the open ports, his eyes were set in determination and ruffled his pack for a mini laptop with what appeared to be a webcam attached to it.

Jaff went out, only to argue with Jem. I swear, they're like an old married couple.

"Ah, Good, satellite feeds, everything is good, I got secure link to Command coming up in ten seconds plus security cameras all around the facility, they'll be online in 1 minute."

As soon as he finished, we heard a new voice through our radio netwrok, Tactical-Display identified it as Command.

"Corbulo Squad, this is Overseer, your orders are simple. Extract the data deep within the laboratory, terminate any survivors or hostiles with extreme prejudice and destroy the facility."

"Command, say again, terminate survivors? Kill them?" It was Trevor.

"That is affirmed, they are now Bad Debts, they know too much, the US government has ordered this specifically. Any members from the ESF are to be deemed as contemporary allies till' further notice."

It wasn't the first time we killed innocents to protect the Corporate's interests, doesn't mean we have to like it. Jacko, the hulk of a man from the Navy SEALS voiced in.

"Eyo, Bossman, what are we up against?"

There was silence as though the guy on the other side was actually thinking.

"Nothing much you and your team can't handle, we'll be monitoring your progress from here. Overseer out." And the link was cut. Jaff swore loudly in cantonese, while Trevor and the others assembled hastily to the service elevator since it sported a bigger and wider space.

"Jesus Christ can't this thing go any faster!"

Whined Jem, who was promptly replied to by Zack, "Shut the fuck up" who, gave McFarlene a high five. I took a swig of the canteen from my pack before setting my helmet in. Merkav and Pack were sharing a small sip of vodka, pure and raw from Russia. Jem noticed and made his comment before I could on regulations.

"Christ man, drinking on the job. What you guys turning fuckin' Irish?" The two just laughed along and then the engineer came up to me, 'Oh fuck no,' I thought to myself, I already know what this bastard wants.

"Abe, got a ciggy?"

'Fuck off man', I wanted to say, but instead what came out from my mouth was...

"Sure, but get your own damn cigar next time!"

It's becomming like a goddamn perverted roleplay, I'd say that line every fucking time he'd ask for a cigar and he'd say, "You know me, haha."

Trevor put his mask back on and bellowed the smoke out, letting it run freely in his suit and into his system, surprisingly enough, this crazy motherfucker gets a boost in combat performance when he's high, not that I'm not complaining or anything I just wish he'd buy his own cigars. I mean who the fuck - ah, never mind I'm rambling again.

So, the elevator opens and we rush to the reception counter, Our Tactical Displays searching for hostiles and ragged breaths filled our own helmets. We'd move slowly, two man leapfrogging cover to cover. Jaff was on point, I was behind him, The place was big, and dark. And scary. Everyone was quiet till, Eyes said something stupid causing Trevor and Jem to break formation and smack the sniper on the head.

"Dima, how much further?" Merkav called from the back. The technician stole a glance at his PDA before replying general wide comms,

"50 meters up ahead, we are on correct path."

There was this huge metal door, with a terminal on the side. Jacko strode forward and wiped the dust off the reinforced metal, he then turned with jabbed his thumb on the door,

"It's reinforced but nothin' too hard for my C-12s, want me to blow it up?"

I refused since the explosion from the charges would alert our presence to whatever it was that took down a facility filled with a crapton of people and 2 elite merc squads, no, I got Dima to get the door. He said it'd be done in 2 minutes, the security encryptions were up-to-date military software. So what we did was form up into 2 rows of four, ready to unleash a hail storm of metal into whatever it was that compromised the lab. Pack stepped back, his PDA in hand and he squawked over the comms,

"Stand-by, opening doors in 3!"

There was a loud sigh of steam being let out and hissing then the mechanisms began to shift as the door that stood before us parted, there were no words exchanged as everyone racked the slides of their weapons, and Jacko revved his 30mm minigun; when the door fully opened, none of us could find words to describe the fucking scene before us.

All of us except Eyes.

"Eh, and I thought it was gonna be a challenge."

THWACK!

That was the Engineer smacking him on the head. Again.