Ok, this chapter was supposed to come out a few days ago, but then the plot happened. Also, I'd like to thank the guests who have reviewed as I can't message you.

The next morning, nine mercenaries, Miss. Pauling and Mrs. Degroot met around the base's large conference table.

Miss. Pauling stood at the front of the room, holding a broken stick of chalk in her hand, "Alright guys, we need a plan to take down Gray. Any suggestions?"

Engineer walked up next to Miss. Pauling and swiped a stick of chalk from the tray beneath the blackboard, "Well, Ah don't have a plan, but Ah've got a schematic of Gray's headquarters."

On the board, Engineer sketched out a rough plan of what he remembered of Gray's base.

"Now, Ah can't pull up the electronic schematic right now, but Ah remember pretty well what the first floor looks like. Alrighty, so, the base itself is situated on an island. Any ideas a how ta get in?"

Soldier slowly raised his hand.

The team looked skeptically between themselves.

"Yes Soldier," Engineer asked.

"We can use the tanks. There are always tanks moving from the factory to the headquarters."

Engineer raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected Soldier to have that kind of information. "You're sure this information is...accurate?"

Soldier nodded firmly, "Yes sir. We can enter the tanks and they will cross the bridge for us."

Medic leaned into the table, "How vould you know zhis, Soldier?"

Soldier looked about the room with a satisfied grin on his face, "I've infiltrated the robot base before."

Engineer crossed his arms. He could feel the skepticism of his team. He knew most of them didn't believe Soldier, but he'd never known the soldier to lie about the field of combat. "Well, Ah guess that covers our entrance...once we're inside-"

"You become top priority," Spy cut in.

Engineer took a small step back, "What?"

Miss. Pauling tapped Engie lightly on the shoulder, "We talked about it last night, you won't really be fighting."

"Why?"

"You're the only one who knows how to reprogram respawn. You told me all you need is a new DNA card..."

Engineer rubbed the back of his neck, "Y-yeah...Ah know Gray disassembled all a our respawns- an this one's been decommissioned...he's got one back at his base though, fer testin, Ah think. But, why would me reprogrammin the respawn be so important? Ah mean, we have Medic an the pocket regen. an the medigun."

Medic pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, "Yes, and I'm zhe only one who knows how to use zhem. I can't tend to all of you at once."

"Exactly," Miss. Pauling said, "we need respawn if we want to stand any chance of defeating Gray."

Engineer resisted the urge to glare at Miss. Pauling, "We don't even know if Gray's figured out how ta get rid a respawn."

"We can't take that chance. If we die, it's better to think we'll stay dead."

For several minutes, the room was silent. Though they'd discussed the matter the night before, no one had vocalized the threat of actual death. They'd forgotten that for most, a bullet to the brain meant more than mere inconvenience.

Heavy was the first to break the silence, "When we are in base, where should team go?"

Engineer snapped to attention, "Right, uh...we should attack through this side entrance here."

"Yeah," Sniper said, "while yer doin that, Oi'll find a vantage point and watch yer back."

Medic nodded, "Heavy, Spy and I vill stay by you Herr Engineer, to ensure you're safely in zhe base."

Soldier stood, grabbed Demo by the arm, and yanked him to his feet, "I will take Demo and lead the offensive."

"Ahy," Demoman confirmed.

Scout leaned back in his chair, "Yo mumbles, you wanna scout ahead with me?"

Pyro gave two thumbs up.

"I'm coming too," Miss. Pauling said.

The team shot the assistant a collective look of concern.

Miss. Pauling shrugged, "I think the Administrator might be there."

"An what'll Ah do?" Engineer asked.

Medic smiled, "All you have to do is follow Spy."

"That's all?"

Spy flicked a new cigarette between his fingers, "Oui. It's best you're alive to fix the respawn."

Engineer frowned, "There's nothin else ya need me ta do?"

Spy shook his head, "Not at all. For you, this fight should be easy."

Once the final details of the plan were in place, and everyone filed out of the conference room, Medic pulled Spy aside from the group.

"I need you to come vith me."

Spy straightened his tie, "Why?"

Medic started off toward his lab, "Since ve're back at a base, I believe it's time for a check-up. I know ve vent to zhe pharmacy in France, but vhat do zhose doctors know?"

Spy started off a few paces behind Medic, "What could you possibly find that they couldn't?"

Medic shrugged and threw open the door to his lab. With the flick of his wrist, the fading fluorescent lights illuminated the lab's chipped white paint. On a rolling cart, he'd already set up his operating equipment. "Vell, I've alvays found zhat zhe public doctors never conduct a thorough inspection. Now, if you could just sit here, ve'll get started."

Spy sat on the edge of the operating table Medic gestured to. His foot tapped up and down from where it hung above the ground. Behind Medic's back, his eyes flicked to the operating equipment and his hands tightened on the table beneath him.

Medic set the earpieces of his stethoscope in his ears, "Alright, just breath normally."

Medic stepped behind his teammate and placed the head of the stethoscope on his back. After a few seconds, the doctor frowned.

"Are you feeling alright?"

Spy avoided locking Medic in the eye, "Of course."

Medic raised an eyebrow, "Really? I haven't even gone past zhe first part of my examination and I'm already finding problems. First off, zhere's a rattle vhen you breath. It's metal on metal, I think zhere's a problem vith zhe über implant."

"And?"

Medic set aside the stethoscope, "I'm going to operate."

Spy dropped from the table and backed away from Medic, "Is that really necessary?"

Medic glared at Spy, "Yes. If zhe über implant is broken, zhe chemicals inside could kill you."

Spy moved toward the lab door, "I'm fine doctor."

"Spy, stop acting like a child. Zhere's no reason to be afraid of zhe doctor."

Spy scoffed, "I'm not afraid of you."

Medic took several steps toward Spy, "Zhen come over here."

Spy stiffened.

Medic gestured to the operating table, "Come Spy. It vill only take a few minutes."

Spy's expression betrayed nothing. He retained a steely gaze with Medic, but remained silent. Then, Medic lunged forward in just enough time to grab Spy's upper arm as he bolted. Using his superior weight, Medic lurched back and brought Spy with him. The assassin flailed slightly before landing hard on his feet. Medic reacted quickly, tackling Spy onto the operating table and restraining him with a built in leather band.

Panting, Medic leaned against the table's edge, "Zhere, zhat should make things easier."

Spy writhed beneath the restraint, "What the hell are you doing?"

Medic removed a large scalpel from its table, "I don't understand vhy you're so nervous about zhis. You vere so calm zhe first time."

With his free hand, Medic swung the mounted medigun around and focused it on Spy. In one swipe, Medic made a cut from Spy's collarbone to the middle of his abdomen. Shooing Archimedes, Medic used his bare hands to enlarge the cut enough to work with.

With the cut in his chest, Spy lay perfectly still. Carefully, his eyes followed every movement Medic made.

"Vait...vhat's zhis?"

Slowly, Medic removed the über implant to find that not only was it broken, but it had a blue core.

Medic turned the device over in his hand, "Are you zhe BLU spy?"

"No."

Medic glared down at the masked man, "Vhat are you hiding?"

"Nothing," Spy said quickly.

Medic's eyes thinned. He increased the power of the medigun and Spy's wounds healed over. He unlatched the table and hoisted Spy into the air by his collar.

"Vhat are you hiding from me, Spy?"

"I told you, nothing."

Medic dropped Spy to the floor, "Vhy must you be so stubborn? I'm only trying to help you."

The doctor looked down at his slouched teammate. From the edge of Spy's cut shirt, Medic saw a fading gray scar on Spy's chest. Curious, he bent down to investigate. Spy tried to resist Medic as he pulled aside the ruined shirt, but to no avail. Once the fabric was removed, the entire scar was visible. Extending from the middle of Spy's left forearm, a set of arching gray scars laced their way like lighting up to his heart. Medic's hand hovered centimeters from Spy's skin.

"No...no, no, no. You, it can't be you. It can't...but..."

Medic's hand balled into a fist. He reeled his arm back. In one motion, he brought his arm down on the spy. With a crack, Medic heard Spy's jaw break from the impact. Again he drew his arm back. Another crack as knuckle hit collar. Medic paused to pull the medigun over so Spy wouldn't die.

"It vas you!" Medic delivered several quick blows to Spy's chest and face, "I had to start a new life because of you!" Medic brought his fists down on Spy's chest, breaking several ribs, "I lost all my work!" He broke the Frenchman's nose and was greeted with a spray of blood, "My home," he tore off his victim's mask and ripped out his hair, "My livelihood!" Breathing heavily, Medic sat back on his feet, "Do you have any idea vhat it feels like to lose everything? To have to forget zhe life you had and start over?"

Wounds healed by the medigun, Spy shoved Medic back. The doctor sprawled onto the floor as Spy jumped to his feet. The Frenchman rushed forward and dug the heel of his shoe into Medic's throat.

"What would I know about loosing everything? All you lost was research."

Medic growled low in his throat, "You vouldn't understand zhe importance of my vork, you vere just a test subject."

Spy sighed and took his foot off Medic's throat. He took several brisk steps toward the door, "How did you know?"

Medic frowned, "How did I know? Who else vould have a scar like zhat…"

The tips of Spy's fingers brushed the scar on his chest. Quickly, he pulled the edges of his torn shirt together. He turned his head slightly back to Medic, "I see...good day doctor."

Everything happened so quickly. First, there was yelling. It came through the metal walls in a muffled state. He didn't understand what was going on. Then, they threw open the door, dragged him from his desk and forced him into the hallway. The hall smelled ascitic, like smoke from a chemical fire.

Viktor stumbled against the concrete wall adjoining his room. He threw his hands forward and narrowly avoided knocking his head against the wall.

A guard grabbed Viktor's arm and hustled him down the hall, "Move Klauss, this is a level three emergency."

Viktor wrenched his arm from the guards grasp, "What do you mean? What's the problem?"

The guard snapped around, "It's your subject, Picaro."

Viktor turned his palms up, "And?"

"He's escaped."

Viktor slapped the guard hard across the face, "You let him escape?!"

The guard rubbed the reddening hand mark, "He killed six of us. We're moving you to a safer location... He destroyed the lab..."

Viktor's eyes widened, "He..." Viktor bolted down the hall towards the lab. Behind him, he could hear the guard call for him to return, but Viktor persisted.

Before him was the lab, or what remained of it. Scorch marks lashed out from the lab into the hall. The door was hanging open with a small congregation of guards around it. Viktor pushed his way past the guards. The first thing he saw was black. The room had transformed from seamless white to a lightless void. Everything was destroyed. Computers, files, data, lost to a fire. Years of research, lost in minutes.

In the corner stood his father. In his hand, a file folder crumbled to dust, "It's gone...it's all gone."

Fists clenched, Viktor moved across the room. His breathing came slow and shaky.

"Everything we've worked for, lost..."the father looked up to see Viktor standing next to him, "...it's all your fault."

"My fault?"

The father strode to his son's side and grabbed the edge of his shirt, "If you'd trained your subject properly, we wouldn't be in this situation. If you weren't so weak-"

Viktor tore his shirt from his father's grasp and slapped his hand away, "I'm not weak. This was bound to happen because you insisted we keep a Resistance spy around."

The father stumbled back, "How dare you try to place blame on me! I thought you could handle it, but I see now you're still a child."

"A child?" Viktor hissed, "You think I'm a child?" He picked up the remains of a small metal filing cabinet and threw it to the floor beside his father, "Could a child carry out my experiments?" He caved in a charred table, "Could a child have finished the SS project?" Viktor charged his father, kicked him to the floor and pinned him down with the heavy boot he wore, "Could a child change the world, father?"

The father strained against the boot crushing him, "You didn't do anything. You're merely an assistant."

Shaking, Viktor pulled back. At his sides, his fists clenched and unclenched slowly, "Not anymore."

Viktor spat on his father's face and marched from the room. Stopping briefly to pick up his journal, Viktor made his way to the barracks. There, he grabbed a heavy medic's coat, dried food and a canteen of water. No one questioned him, he had been granted full access to the facility and everything in it.

He vowed then to start over. With nothing left, he could go anywhere. Then again, he had nothing. There was no denying that nearly everything he'd worked for was gone. What was frustrating was how he'd held the completed formula in his hand. How he'd been planning to test it tomorrow on a Nazi volunteer. He vowed revenge. Wherever he went, he decided that one day, he would find the Frenchman and torture him.

A fire raging in his heart, Viktor turned to Russia and started walking.

Meanwhile, Françoir Dufort curled up beneath a large bush. Even in the moonless night, he felt safer covered by the low, oval leaves. He didn't think he could make much more of the journey tonight. Escaping had taken more out of him then he'd expected. Breathing softly, Françoir removed a small briefcase from beneath his shirt. Carefully, he unlatched the case. Inside, three clear syringes and six labeled vials sat in neat rows. This was it, what he came here for. What he came here to stop.

Nearly a year ago, his superior had asked him to undertake a 'special' mission. Then, he hadn't known all the pain and torture he'd have to suffer to obtain the product. He thought it would be a simple in-out mission, nothing particularly difficult. Now, holding the product in his hands, he wondered what he should do. On one hand, he could take the formula and notes and deliver them to French scientists. They would probably re engineer it and use it to Allied advantage. On the other hand, he could destroy it and end the ordeal on the spot. Then, he could take the formula back with him and hide it. It would make an excellent leeway in trade. And, he could always tell his superiors it was lost in the lab fire...

Françoir snapped the case shut and tucked it under his shirt. He laid back on the soft dirt. As he drifted to sleep, he thought of how, in a few days time, he'd be home, and the world would soon forget the Super Soldier project was ever completed.

Note: I probably won't update very quickly as school's started up again.