I have decided to split this chapter into two parts, due to the amount of content that I had originally wanted to put in, not to mention WonderCon 2016 delaying the chapter.
Anyways, review and follow the story to see what happens next!
Chapter Seven:
The View to a Kill
July 16th, 2016
USS Cormorant
10:34 P.M.
"Have they arrived at CMGA?"
He asked, finishing dialing the rotary phone.
"Yes Major, they are safely away in their cells at this very moment. What do you want us to do with the seven?"
"Interrogate them, torture them but not to death. We need to operate as covertly as possible without any major world government noticing."
The major responded, keeping himself under control.
"And what about Doctor Jones and Zarya? What do we do with them at this moment?"
"Kill them. They're no use to our organization as of today. Execute them by guillotine or by the gallows by the next week's end."
He put down the phone and went back to working on documents in his office. He was the only one there, signing documents about the G20 Summit, UN testimonies all of those sort of things. They were bound to hit the channel in a day and Amsterdam in three. The night was particularly moonless; the clouds formed a dense overcast that did exactly cover the moon. The task force that had linked up was trailing not too far between the isolated carrier. The Major was the only one in his office, or so he presumed.
McSullivan was still up at this time of night. He was still wandering the bridge of the ship when he heard this conversation. Who could he be referring to? He asked himself. The quinjet hadn't returned, yet nobody had noticed. He nearly heard the entire conversation between the Major and this man. Was "they" the strike team that was sent earlier this morning? He rushed to Captain Andersen, the only high-ranking officer that would believe him.
"Captain Andersen? Has Garuda One returned to the carrier?"
He asked the captain as he was prepared to head to his quarters for the night.
"We haven't established contact with Garuda One for the entire day McSullivan. They'd either got shot down or were captured."
The captain replied.
"I was overhearing something called CMGA by the Major."
"No, they couldn't have gone there!"
Andersen exclaimed with shock.
"Wait why?"
The wolf asked, confused.
"CMGA, or Cold Mountain Gefangnis Ausfuhrung is a prison in the Austrian Alps near Hittisau. It was set up by the U.S Government following World War II but later abandoned in the ninties."
"Can we start a rescue mission? I think I can rally a few members of the Strike Team to assist."
"No, we need to gather intel on the location first and if they are actually there. Be prepared tomorrow if I summon you or Captain Bartlett. Go tell the others."
Andersen replied.
The wolf saluted, then ran to Deck D where most of the members were in the Galley. It was completely vacated, with the exception of the Strike Team either playing billiards or having a drink at the bar.
"Everyone, we need to talk now."
Two days later.
July 18th 2016
Somewhere in Austria.
"Wake up! Wake up god dammit!"
Reinhardt said, shaking Pliskin who was still unconscious.
"What happened? Where's everyone?"
He asked.
"We're in Austria. You're in a prison that only contains fifty inmates, including us."
Reinhardt responded bluntly.
"What? Where's Bond, Q, or even Lena?"
"I don't know, Q was sent to another cell after he passed by ours."
Reinhardt wore a black t shirt and grey sweats, Pliskin still wore his bomber jacket from the mission, not being forced to change due to him remaining unconscious. Thankfully due to his jacket, he wasn't cold from the chilling climate inside the cell. He got up onto his feet, walking around the cramped room. There was barely any light coming out from the barred window and the back of the cell and it was deathly silent with the exception of the howling of the wind.
"Holy shit; there are guillotines on the other side of the prison."
Pliskin said, peeking out of the window.
It was snowing heavily outside; he could barely see anything with the exception of the guillotines that stood on the edge of the other prison complex. He wondered why there were four beds in this cell, much like a ship did.
"Reinhardt, ever been here before?"
He asked, facing opposite from Reinhardt.
"In fact, I have. Seven years ago, one of the early missions for the original Overwatch. We scouted the area. We didn't find a thing."
Reinhardt replied, staring into his eyes with strict sense of seriousness.
"Seems like new tenants have occupied the facilitates now."
Then the cell doors opened. A guard threw a body into the room, saying something in German, presumably mocking them. Reinhardt rolled the body to the side, desperately trying to identify who he was.
"Q, is that you? Answer me please!"
Q only wore a simple black prison uniform. His glasses had been taken away from him, making him extremely unrecognizable. He was groaning, he was bruised, he was weakened.
"Talon… They're here."
Q moaned out.
"No, they couldn't have…"
"Pliskin, after we defeated Hydra, Spectre and the Templars, what do you know about their remaining forces?"
"Didn't they spread throughout the galaxy to hide from us?"
Pliskin replied.
"Precisely, now before Jack Morrison was presumed dead, he had leads on an organization called "Talon's Spectres". Do you know who these people are?"
Reinhardt conversed.
"They're Talon's Spectres. How could we have been so blind about an organization banding together to lead one final assault?"
"That museum heist, multiple bank robberies, theft of weapons of mass destruction. It's them."
It all came together. The destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D and Overwatch, no traces of Blofield or Skull Face. It was a view to a kill; they had everyone in their sights before they could take the shot. A shot of revenge. The hour only grew colder with each passing second. Q had passed out after giving them a grizzly recount of being tortured for information he didn't know. Were they next to be tortured? It didn't make sense, a mission that was simple, then weapons, then Hydra remnants came and attack.
The cell door opened up again. Another guard armed with an axe shoved the man into the room where Q was still asleep and Reinhardt and Pliskin were talking. He was hooded, perhaps a member of the Assassin Order? He fell face first onto the floor, cursing at the guard in Russian.
"Who are you?"
Pliskin asked. He responded silently in his native dialect, barely making noise while saying it.
"I'm no one. I've been twisted by this place long enough to lose my identity."
"We need a name."
"Dimitri , or Dima for short."
His face was falling apart. The left side of his face was all wrinkled and his eyes were beginning to look black.
"You look young, how old are you мой друг?"
"Nineteen."
Pliskin responded, looking at him.
"What's your story?"
"The Moscow Incident, four years ago. Me and many others was falsely accused by the Russian Government of taking part of insurgent rebels that seized ten Metal Gear REX's."
"We were sent to various prisons in Siberia. Me? I was the only one sent here."
He walked to the barred window and pointed at the other building.
"I was formerly imprisoned there, until today where they moved me for a person named "James Bond". "
Dima said, turning to face the two of them.
"James is there? How did you know?"
Reinhardt gasped in shock.
"I have eyes and ears everywhere my friend."
"Now, do you three know why you're here?"
He replied. The three of them remained silent, they didn't know why and how they ended up in this place.
"Neither do I. And I've have longed for the day that I could experience the fresh air or the sunlight. Will you help me?"
Dima asked. The two of them knew what he meant; they were breaking out of this prison one way or another. Q would have to be informed later on, still asleep and recovering from his injuries.
"What happened with your friend? Ill or what?"
"Tortured by Talon."
Reinhardt responded.
"I know the reason why now. Why special people get sent here. They want your experiences, and they, they want to hunt your friends for the sake of creating a unified government."
"No shit."
Pliskin replied with a hint of sarcasm.
USS Cormorant
10:11 A.M.
Logan's Point of View
So let me get this straight. After Overwatch and S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated from the inside and destroyed, we were also infiltrated, by Major Zero. I've always known Zero to be a fanatical devotee to the Boss and her will. Even though she had died and her status as a hero to some yet a traitor to all live on to this day, Zero idolizes her. I was in my bunks, McSullivan wants me to join a rescue mission with Clint, Natasha, Kitty, Genette and Sly to rescue them in what? A god-forsaken mountain prison in the middle of the Austrian Alps? Rytlock and Thrall weren't so happy with this revalation and now, were being watched. Every single step we take, were being watched.
"Now, we have successfully located the prison complex. Thankfully Major Zero hasn't been keeping any tabs on me."
Andersen said, addressing the six of us.
"It is located about twenty miles east of the town of Krumbach. I'm assigning Captain Bartlett to fly you in, with escorts from Razgriz Squadron."
"And are you sure that we're not going to be noticed by flying four jets into a potential terrorist base?"
This seems to be the most far-fetched plan we have ever conducted. We expect the group to have broken out of their cells? How do know for sure? We'd have to leave at dawn tomorrow or else Zero would have us sent to the brig. Also, it's snowing at Austria, even at this time of year, do they really expect us to land in the middle of a blizzard? We're near Southampton, and hopefully we don't dock or else it's lights out for 'em.
CMGA Prison
Austria
11:36 A.M
Bond's Point of View
I was held in a cell. One bed just for me, nobody else. Solitary confinement I suppose. We arrived by plane two days ago, Pliskin and Jacob were still unconscious by the time we arrived at Landeck. They forced Reinhardt, Tracer and McCree to relinquish their weapons and armor, with Reinhardt not liking it one bit. I had to be escorted to the auxiliary building, being haunted with the sights of five guillotines and the gallows as I walked to my cell. They were moving a prisoner named Dima to another cell with use of the ski lift to connect the two. Both compounds were solid rock, dark and imposing, at least that's what I had heard from M.
It's been two damm days since we've arrived. It's nothing but a blizzard out here. I can barely see anything and the cold constantly bites at me. I only had a small window to see the other complex, connected by a ski lift going across to it, and another going down to the bottom of the mountain. A guard opened the cell, saying that someone extremely important wanted me. Who would it be, the overseer of the complex? I was only wearing the standard prison uniform, black with navy blue pants. There was a long hallway, completely opened to the cold air outside. The guillotines were on the platform below along with the gallows. The sight of them filled my head with terror, fearful of my own demise.
I entered a room, extremely modern in my opinion, warm to say the least. The two guards that escorted me the left me be, closing and locking the door behind me. I wandered the room looking for a place to sit, if that is what they were intending for me to do. I sat near the fireplace, extending my hands to warm myself and my body.
"Good morning Mister Bond."
Someone spoke.
"It's a pleasure as always to have you staying here, sorry for the inhospitable conditions of your cell earlier. Come have a drink from there."
I saw three wine bottles, all whom were unopened.
"Pomerol 1922?"
I asked myself, opening it and pouring it into a glass.
"I should have known better, expecting you to arrive here all of a sudden."
"Let us skip the formalities; my name is Ernst Stravo Blofield."
Blofield said, extending his hand to shake Bond's
"No need for you to introduce your name, Mister Bond. Come; let us talk for a moment."
Blofield? The leader of SPECTRE, here talking to me at this very moment? I'd be dammed, S.H.I.E.L.D thought he was dead.
"Mister Bond, what do you know about jellyfish?"
"Jellyfish? Well, they are cnidarians, use stinging cells-"
"Stinging Cells, Mister Bond. It attacks at the center, much like how SPECTRE operated."
Blofield spoke, smoking a cigar.
"Spectre faded into obscurity, now we reemerged as Talon's Spectres, an international terrorist Organization dealing with-"
"Counter intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge, Extortion, all sorts of things associated with the lowest scum."
Bond responded, smirking.
"Precisely."
Dima, Reinhardt and Pliskin were in their cell, waiting for a precise moment for a guard to walk near them. Everything was set into motion; they would knock out a guard, steal his keys and free the others, causing a prison riot to distract the majority of the guards.
"How does the rest of your plan go again?"
Reinhardt asked.
"Well, after that we link up with your fellow comrades and get your weapons and armor, and then we exit through this building and take the ski lift to the other complex, hopefully stealing a vertibird and escaping to the nearest German or Austrian city."
"I swear, you are mad."
Pliskin replied.
"It's natural, wait here comes another guard!"
The three of them tried to act as natural as they could, Reinhardt leaning against the prison bars. He tried to not look at the guard, trying to give the element of surprise. He quickly turn around and punched the guard across the chin, knocking him out cold and grabbing his keys.
"Good, now we grab your comrades."
Reinhardt quickly carried the sleeping Q after unlocking the cell. The corridor was dark, the continuous sound of howling wind blowing through their ears.
"I may be mad, but not as mad as that archaeologist on the second level."
"Archaeologist? Do you know his or her name?"
Pliskin asked, initially surprised.
"Uh, can't remember, Jones I believe."
"Doctor Jones? Where is he? We need to find him."
"I don't know, when we release all the prisoners, he'll probably make his way out."
Dima insisted.
"Q, I know you can't hear me but, you're pretty light. In weight I mean."
"You think?"
Q responded, yawning as he woke up.
"Come, we've got to go, now!"
"Reinhardt, I still can't feel my legs, you're going to have to carry me out of here."
Q groaned, trying to stretch and feel his legs.
The four of them walked as quickly as they could, minimizing any potential noise that they would make. Dima had taken the guard's silenced gun and baton, acting as their pointman. There was a staircase to the right of the corridor, filled with empty cells, perhaps this cell wasn't as heavily guarded as it was reported to be. Turning up to the second level of the prison was an entire different story. The main corridor of this level had one long pathway revealing the exit and the guard station that housed all the controls for both complexes.
Dima did not have any time to plan this section of the escape out, he knew that he had to wait for a miracle or "Leeroy Jenkins" it. If it wasn't for a former member of Overwatch, namely Zarya, the four of them would have been dead. Dima then yelled something in Russian, Zarya responding as well.
"She's on our side. Come, let's move."
"We're about to move out and board the ski lift, fortunately some of my old comrades from Overwatch had assisted me in the escape."
"Get you arms and armor. We're moving out soon."
To be Continued in Chapter Eight: The View to a Kill, Section Two
