Babylon, Sara's Apartment

"Alright," Abraham croaked. "You've convinced me."

The truth was worse than he could had ever imagined.

They had talked for hours, not stopping even once. It must have been past midnight, now. Abraham's throat was parched, his eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, and his stomach was rumbling.

But all of that was subdued by the truths Sara had revealed to him.

"Zach..." Abraham slumped forward, his voice hoarse and laced with emotion. "They killed him. They really killed him..."

The picture of his friend's corpse left no room for doubt. ADVENT hadn't even tried to frame it as a suicide. They gunned him down, and blamed it on him being caught in the unfortunate crossfire of some drug lab bust. Sara wasn't eager to share exactly how she acquired that information, but did eventually reveal that she had been keeping tabs on him, too. Apparently, Sara was monitoring Zach before she ever turned her attentions to Abraham.

She couldn't save him, but she did acquire proof of his murder. A failing she wanted to improve on, for Abraham.

The reason Zach was murdered was equally horrific. Sara had shown him a shaky video captured from someone's cellphone from the Montreal riot. Abraham didn't even know that there was a Montreal riot, but that was the point. The video recorded the moment when ADVENT started firing on a crowd in front of the city's government building. Lawful and nonviolent, as far as he could tell. Even if it wasn't, which Abraham recognized as a possibility, nothing could have justified what ADVENT did to those protesters.

White Knights - armed White Knights - had opened fire on the crowd with gauss cannons.

Gauss cannons!

That shouldn't even have been possible! Robotic police units were hard coded to never fire on civilians. That was the whole point of their existence! They were durable, but expendable, meant to take risks that human officers couldn't! Using lethal force on crowds of protesters was exactly the opposite of what they were designed to do!

Oh, and now he understood Sara's thinly-veiled disgust from their interview. ADVENT weren't human - she had shown him what they looked like underneath the helmets.

And to think that these bug-eyed abominations literally parade around in plain sight.

"So let me see if I have this right," Abraham said wearily, pushing himself off Sara's kitchen table. She nodded at him, dark circles under her eyes.

"Zach somehow learned what happened in Montreal. That White Knights fired on the crowd. He brought it to his superiors at the New Providence BAT, stating that some malfunction must have occurred, and urging the need for an immediate code fix. Right?"

"That's right."

Right. Zach was the project lead for the White Knight, just like me with the drone...

"But they didn't allow him to fix the code, because it wasn't broken."

"That is also correct," Sara affirmed.

There was no malfunction. ADVENT had just quietly added in the functionality for their 'peacekeepers' to force-target the White Knights, allowing them to bypass their normal programming and attack civilians.

Just like he was doing now with the drone.

"And you don't know what happened after that, but he must have threatened to leak it to the media, or something. So they silenced him."

"Yes," Sara nodded. "I'm sorry, Abraham."

Sara took a hold of her arm and looked away. "I did everything I could. I tried to reach him, tried to warn him, but I was just...I was just..."

"No," Abraham shook his head vigorously. "It's not your fault."

She nodded, but didn't say anything. The room was silent for several minutes.

Abraham took a deep breath through his nose.

"I won't be complicit in this," he said, voice resolute. "I won't help them murder protesters. I won't help them to kill innocent people."

But how? How can I stop this?

"Abraham," Sara warned. "They won't let you just leave. They are monitoring you carefully. Even your apartment isn't safe."

He believed her. She had shown him countless evidence to ADVENT's brutality and ruthlessness. Video after video, picture after picture. Massacres, cover-ups, disappearances...they would force him to finish the project at gunpoint, if they felt he was a liability.

Or they would just kill and replace him.

How could he have been so blind?

...

This...

...this is too much!

Abraham's eyes shot wide. He leaned forward and slammed his elbows onto the table, gripping his hair tightly.

"I-I can't do this!" He stammered, voice cracking. "What the fuck am I going to do?! They're going to kill me!"

Sara stood up and took hold of her chair, moving around the table and placing it next to Abraham. She sat down, leaning over and taking him into her arms.

"Shh," she whispered, cradling him from behind. "It's alright. You're going to be okay."

She held him like that for a while, the only sound in the room that of their breathing. Abraham's heavy, almost hyperventilated breaths eventually slowed, Sara's affectionate nuzzling soothing his panic.

"This time," Sara promised. "I'll save someone. I know a way, Abraham. I know a way to escape ADVENT. You can be safe."

"We can be safe," she corrected.

"How?" He whispered.

She smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and told him her plan.

"I only need one day to set it up," Sara said. "But I guarantee it will work."

"Can you really promise that?" Abraham asked tiredly.

Sara scooted her chair backwards, picking it up and repositioning herself to Abraham's side, rather than behind him. He turned around hesitantly to meet her eyes.

"I can," she insisted. "It's not the first time the method had been used, and it has never failed."

"I have work tomorr- uh, today..." he muttered.

"You can handle it, Abraham, I know you can. You only have to pretend for one day, and then we can leave! "

Abraham had wondered if he would leave Babylon one day, but never like this. He might have been sad, but really, what was he leaving?

He had no close friends here, no family, no important possessions. All that really motivated Abraham to keep going everyday was his work.

And now he knew that his work was a lie. He had no reason to stay.

No, that's not right. It's even worse than a lie. If I stay, I am going to be responsible for the deaths of innocent people. There's just no choice here, I have to go along with Sara's plan.

His sister would miss him, he knew that much. He would have liked to at least left her a goodbye note, but he couldn't connect her to this. She had to stay ignorant of this, to keep her safe.

"Okay," Abraham said. "I'll do it."

The Sinkhole, Subterranean Training Facility

Arkady glanced down at the young woman laying flat on her back on a medical bed. Selena had a bulky pair of black goggles attached to her head, concealing the top half of her face. Several sensors were attached to the side of her head with a sticky adhesive, white wires connecting to the virtual reality device she wore. A black sleeve attached tightly around her left arm fed information to an attached monitor, which measured her heartbeat.

Virtual reality training was effective, certainly. It was also strikingly more realistic than most soldiers initially expected, Arkady included. Basically, the device induced a temporary state of unconsciousness while tapping into the user's brainpower. It was less of a computer program and more of a state of lucid dreaming.

...sort of. The full science behind it was very complicated, what with it being one of eight models stolen from the former American military. The simulation could be controlled by an observer, and each machine could link with the others, allowing an entire group to share the same 'dream'. And while the technology was perfectly safe, there was a protocol that had to be followed to the letter to ensure that. A member of the medical staff had to be present whenever the machines were use.

Side effects include headaches, nausea, and brain damage...

Arkady exhaled sharply at his own joke and turned to survey the room.

The VR training room was located underground. It was just a big square, empty except for eight medical beds, a few chairs, and the observer's control desk, which was lined with displays, switches, and bulky, black computers. Selena occupied the first bed on the left, Arkady standing a few feet away from her. The required member of the medical staff was present, a man wearing a labcoat sitting at the observer's desk.

"Vitals are stable," the doctor said. Arkady had seen him before, but couldn't remember his name. Not that it was important, 'Doctor' was enough for most of them. "We are clear to proceed. This is her first time, correct, Lieutenant Sokolov?"

Arkady nodded.

"She'll get the tutorial, then," the doctor said, typing in some commands to the control computer. "And she should wake up...now."

Arkady stepped over to the observer's desk, standing behind the doctor. He peered down at one of the display panels, which flickered from a purely black screen to a live video of Selena standing in an empty, white room. Arkady pulled up a chair, and the doctor nodded and handed him a headset, so he could communicate with Selena.

Selena blinked, reflexively curling her fingers back and forth and touching them to her palms. She had to close her eyes, as wherever she was, it was really bright.

"Adjusting brightness," a male voice came from somewhere. And then, somehow, the light dimmed. "There, that should be better. Can you see well, Ms. Retter?"

She opened her eyes.

She was in...a void. That would be the best way to describe it. It may have been light instead of dark, but there was nothing here. Selena was standing on a white-tiled floor, but there was no building. There wasn't anything. Selena could see shimmering lines where the walls of the room would have been, faintly pulsing and moving up and down. Beyond them was...nothing. There was no sky, just white light as far as the eye could see.

What am I supposed to see?

Oh, wait. She had to audibly communicate with them.

"What am I supposed to see?" She coughed.

There was silence for a brief moment.

And then, with a pop, an orange plant pot holding some kind of green plant materialized into existence, hovering just above the 'floor'. Gravity kicked in, and it gently landed with a thud.

"I see the plant pot," Selena said.

"Very good," said the same male voice. "Selena, my name is Doctor Andrews. I'll be helping you along while you learn how to use the simulator, alright?"

"Okay."

"Very good. First, we're going to run through some things to...make your brain more familiar with the machine. Testing your senses, as it were. We'll start with sight, are you ready?"

Selena nodded.

Wait, can they even see me?

The white void around her began to shift. She took that as a yes.

The room around her began to swirl into an indistinguishable mess of color and light. It was very disorienting, and she had to shut her eyes to block out the confusing visual stimulation. When she opened them, she was standing in...a firing range?

"Is this the firing range here at the base?" She asked.

"Yes, Selena," the doctor answered. "Very good. You acclimated very quickly, well done."

Selena silently accepted the praise, not sure what she had done to deserve it.

The doctor swiftly moved on to her other senses. He tested her sense of hearing by 'spawning' in a ticking grandfather clock, her sense of touch by spawning in another plant pot for her to feel, and her sense of smell by spawning a jug of spoiled milk.

Gross...

Thankfully, they didn't make her drink it. Apparently the sense of taste was not included in the simulation.

It was...very strange. It was incredibly realistic, but the sensations of touch and smell were...dulled. Slower. There was some kind of uncanny feeling to it all that she couldn't quite pinpoint. Her sense of sight and sound seemed normal, though.

The tutorial was swift, but very thorough. They had Selena run on a treadmill and use a weights machine so she could get used to feeling what moving around and exerting herself was like. After that, she test-fired a few weapons and had used the firing range for a very short target practice session. The whole process lasted about twenty minutes, before the doctor gave her the all clear and stepped aside so Arkady could take his place.

"Time for your first test," he said gruffly, the first time he had spoken since the beginning of the session. "You will treat this test as seriously as possible. Act as if this is really happening, as if your life is really in danger. Do you understand, Private?"

"I understand, Lieutenant."

"Good. Begin simulation UTA 001."

The world melted away, although it wasn't quite as nauseating this time.

Selena was now standing on the flat roof of a tall building. She blinked and shook her head as she took in her new surrounding.

The building was about ten stories tall, and was located in some unknown cityscape. The architecture was unknown to her, but the city did look relatively modern, and probably American. Looking up at the big blue sky, Selena assumed it was about noon, with a few fluffy clouds being pushed along by a light breeze. There was a stairwell leading down placed in the center of the roof. A flagpole was mounted diagonally on the edge of the building, with a red and white striped flag with tiny stars in the corner flapping in the wind.

Definitely somewhere in America, then.

Selena suddenly noticed that she was clad in full equipment. Grey uniform, Kevlar vest, combat boots...

"There is a table behind you," the Lieutenant's voice said, his words appearing directly in her head. "Arm yourself."

Sure enough, there was a rectangular wooden table behind her, with a variety of equipment and weapons on it. Selena took a minute to fasten a knife, a pistol, and a frag and smoke grenade to her outfit, finishing the loadout by picking up an M4A1 carbine.

"Equip the helmet," the Lieutenant added. A hovering, yellow arrow that was pointing down appeared over the standard XCOM full-helmet, which she noticed lying on the ground next to the table. She restricted herself from rolling her eyes, knowing better than to annoy her strict instructor with displays of sarcasm.

She put the helmet on. She had used them before, during her equipment training a few months ago, but only a few times. Visual displays and indicators flickered to life, part of the HUD built into the helmet's visor. It was honestly pretty disorienting, and she hadn't gotten used to it in the brief time she got to use it.

The helmets were only used sometimes. XCOM didn't have enough armor and helmets for everyone, and you couldn't bring the helmet on a mission that required you to sneak into a city or something, anyway.

"You will now use proper communications procedure using the communicator within your helmet," the Lieutenant said. "You will address me as Command. Your own callsign is Falcon. Copy?"

"Solid copy, Command," Selena acknowledged. This much, she understood well, as she had brushed up on her protocol when Morgan had asked for her help the other day. "What are my orders?"

"Your first mission is very straightforward," the Lieutenant said, his voice now crackling through the communicator within the helmet rather than within her head. "The stairwell leading down leads to only a single room. Falcon, your orders are to breach and secure it. Intelligence has confirmed the presence of at least one hostile, you are to shoot-to-kill. Report in when the room is secure. Any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Good. I will only tell you this once, Private - use your best judgment. Begin whenever."

Selena quickly checked her equipment one last time. Her HUD indicated that her rifle was fully loaded and set to full-auto. If she had a squad with her, it could have displayed their vitals and positions, as well.

Selena started towards the stairwell down, but stopped halfway. She turned back to the table with the weapons, and added a flashbang grenade to her belt. She then cautiously approached the stairwell's door, rifle at the ready.

She pressed it open very slowly.

...but there was nothing there. About fifteen steps down, there was another door to her left.

That must be the room, then.

She walked down slowly, taking care not to make any noise.

She silently took cover against the wall next to the door. Unlike the one leading to the stairwell, this one had a small window in it. She leaned forward slightly, just barely enough to take a glance around the edge.

It was a very standard apartment, not that Selena had any context for one. The room was messy and chaotic, as if it had been ransacked. An unmade bed, a few messy dressers, an unorganized bookshelf. Clothes and miscellaneous junk were scattered about, implying that the dressers had been hastily searched. There were what looked like bullet holes in the wall, as well.

But what caught her eye was the lone figure in black armor. He had his back to the door, but clearly had an assault rifle in his hands.

Selena leaned back, flattening herself against the wall. She had never trained against human targets before.

But that's probably part of the test.

She pushed the air out of her nose. That wasn't going to work on her.

...wouldn't be the first time I've killed someone who didn't expect it.

Selena shook her head. She was wasting time, the enemy soldier might not stand there forever. She unclipped the flashbang from her belt, and inched towards the door.

She gave the pull-ring of the flashbang a firm tug, and lobbed it into the room with an underhand toss.

The enemy soldier reacted to her opening the door, but that only turned him around to look right into the flashbang. Selena ducked back against the wall to avoid the grenade's effects.

The flashbang went off, and Selena burst through the room. The soldier had collapsed onto his back, clutching his head with one arm while the other flailing limb held his assault rifle.

Selena let off a quick burst, aiming for his chest. All of the rounds connected, and the man jerked unnaturally, before lying still.

Selena wasted no time and swept across the rest of the room. There were two closed doors, and a kitchen in the corner.

There was a loud shout in a language she didn't recognize, and a man popped out from behind the kitchen counter, pointing a pistol at Selena.

Selena reacted faster, and loosed a volley of fire at the man. He did mange to fire his pistol, but only as he was collapsing backwards, and the round pinged against an oven. Selena rushed forward and hopped around the kitchen counter, rifle trained down. The man was definitely dead, slumped forward in a growing pool of his own blood.

Selena glanced at the ammo readout on her HUD.

Still over half capacity, good...

Selena took a position next to the closest closed door. She took a step back, and lunged at the door with her foot. Her boot had plenty of force behind it, and she kicked the door open with relative ease. She stormed forward, sweeping her eyes across the new room.

"Don't shoot!" There was a man with his knees on the carpet in front of her, in between the room's two beds. He seemed middle-aged, was wearing a business suit and tie, and apparently had his hands bound behind his back.

"Oh god, please help me!" He pleaded hysterically, realizing that Selena wasn't an enemy. "Help me! Please, you've got to get me out of here, they're going to kill me!"

Selena stepped forward hurriedly, pulling out her knife.

Oh, good. He's stuck with ropes, not handcuffs, so I can definitely get him out...

"Thank you," the man sobbed. "Thank you!"

"It's alright," Selena assured the man. "I'll get you out of here."

It's hard to believe this is a simulation. It feels so real!

Selena heard a noise.

And then everything went black.

What...what happened?

Selena was back in physical world. The virtual reality device had been removed, and she was panting and damp with sweat. The Lieutenant was standing next to her bed, his expression unreadable.

"What...happened?" She asked breathlessly.

"You died," the Lieutenant said bluntly. Selena wasn't sure if he sounded amused or disappointed.

Probably both.

"Let's review just how you died, yes?"

He held out a tablet computer for her to take, which she did. A file was already prepared, and she pressed play.

It was...camera footage. Perfectly clear camera footage, as if taken from the perspective of a fly buzzing around behind her shoulders. Selena watched herself creep down the stairs, she watched herself hesitate outside the doorway.

"You did better than some, there," the Lieutenant said. "Some people aren't ready to handle shooting a person, even when they know it's just in their head."

Selena watched herself toss the flashbang and shoot the stunned man.

"Reasonable breach," the Lieutenant nodded. "And good reflexes with the enemy behind the counter."

She shot the man behind the counter again, and kicked the door open once more.

"And here's where it all fell apart."

As the hostage began to cry to her past self for help, the video split into two parts. Another perspective of the scene now occupied the corner of the screen, showing her what was going on outside the bedroom. Another black-armored man exited the other closed door, and crept along the wall.

As Selena watched herself pull out her knife and walk towards the hostage, she realized what she had done wrong.

"You see it, then?" the Lieutenant asked, noticing her reaction. "Good."

How far is this going to go? Do...do I really have to watch this?

Yes.

Yes, she did.

The man whirled around into the open doorway, his rifle trained at the ready. Selena watched herself glance up at the noise.

...and then saw her bullet-ridden corpse fall backwards as the soldier emptied a volley into her body. The soldier then shot the hostage in the head, and the screen froze on the scene of their bodies strewn about the bedroom.

Selena coughed violently, sputtering and gasping. She held her fingers against her chest, breathing heavily.

She felt nauseous, but couldn't vomit.

"Does watching yourself die disturb you?" the Lieutenant asked calmly.

Selena swallowed, panting too heavily to be able to respond.

"It should. I would be concerned if it didn't."

"G-god," she managed to stammer. "Did...did I really need to see that?"

"Yes," he answered plainly.

"W...why?"

The doctor from earlier came by, handing her a glass of water and dabbing at her forehead with a damp towel. He looked upset - he probably disagreed with Arkady pushing her that far.

"Lieutenant Sokolov will explain after you've taken a minute to recover," the doctor said firmly.

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow, but did not protest, allowing the doctor to tend to Selena. Her breathing eventually normalized, and she sipped at the glass of water.

It was ice cold.

"The simulation is designed to play out that way, no matter what you choose," The Lieutenant explained. "Even if you chose the other door, you would have found a bound hostage, and the final enemy would have been in the other door."

Selena handed the glass of water back to the doctor, who took it and went back to the control desk.

"I know what I did wrong," Selena said, sitting up. "I should have ignored the hostage, and finished sweeping the area."

"Correct."

"But...why did I have to watch myself die? " Selena asked. "That was the worst thing I've ever seen!"

"Was it?"

Selena blinked in surprise. She hadn't been expecting him to question that.

"I can tell that you are strong, girl," he said, maintaining a coolly focused gaze on her. "You don't survive living on the run from ADVENT if you are weak. And you didn't hesitate long when you realized that your targets were human, so I assume you've probably killed another human being before."

He...he guessed all that? Just from how she acted?

"Or, you realized the necessity of it," the Lieutenant shrugged. "Either way is good, and saves me time."

Selena didn't know what to say to that.

"You asked why you had to watch yourself die."

She nodded.

"I can tell that you are strong," he repeated. "Physically. Accuracy, room-clearing, equipment use...you would learn all these in time. I am sure."

He crossed his arms and adjusted his posture, looking off to the side.

"UTA stands for Urban Target Awareness. This was the first test in the series. Officially, it drills the need for an understanding of the environment. Your tactical awareness. I have never made it a rookie's first VR scenario, until now."

He glanced back at her. Selena's eyes voiced the question that her vocal cords did not.

"Because I needed to test your mental strength," he explained. "You have wondered it yourself, yes? Why you are receiving so much training, when you so clearly long for combat?"

It was frankly uncanny at how easily the Lieutenant had deciphered her personality. She had underestimated the stoic man.

"...yes," Selena admitted. She thought about it often. It made her feel a little guilty when Morgan had thrown her a 'first mission celebration slash birthday party'. Silently, Selena was a little resentful that it couldn't have been a real mission. Something more than a simple supply run. She had been careful to keep those emotions well contained, however, unwilling to spoil her sister's cheer.

"Because you would die," the Lieutenant said plainly. "And possibly get someone else killed along with you."

Selena started at him blankly.

The Lieutenant shook his head. "You have good potential. But your fierce desire to fight means nothing if you lack the skill to carry it out."

...

He's right.

Selena sighed, her shoulders dropping and face hanging low.

"I'm sorry, sir. You're right."

"Don't be," he snorted. "You performed well."

...that's the first genuine praise I've ever received from him, and it's for me failing a mission and watching myself die.

"Remember this, Retter."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. He had never called her by name before, always 'girl' or 'Private'.

"Sir?"

"You are never safe. Only safer."

"Never safe," she repeated. "Only safer."

He nodded, satisfied. "You are dismissed for the rest of the day. Remember what you've learned today."

She returned his nod.

"I will, sir. Thank you."

Babylon, Farah's Electronics

Sara wore a genuine smile as she saw Abraham's car pulling into to park in front of the store. From her spot at a chair near the store's windows, she saw him get out, dressed in his normal work attire, glancing around uncertainly. She waved at him through the window, and he entered the store. The bell above the store's door jingled as it opened and shut, which might have drawn the attention of other customers - if there were any. Farah's shop had closed early today.

Abraham was clearly nervous, swallowing and darting his eyes around, but he had done it. She had to admit, she was a little proud of him. He was being remarkably brave.

Farah, the woman who owned the store, moved to welcome the customer out of instinct, but Sara cut her off with a single shake of the head. Farah's eyes went wide as she realized what was going on, and moved to the back of the store to play her part.

Sara wasted no time with greetings. Abraham had managed to keep himself together and get through a shift of work, after what was no doubt a sleepless night.

Now it was time for the final piece of the plan.

"This way," Sara said firmly, standing up and beckoning for him to follow her into the back of the store. Abraham nodded and followed suit.

She led him to the storage room of the electronics shop. Computers, televisions, and other various electronic devices were lined up in neat rows, in varying states of repair. Farah had a nice little business here, at her spot in a commercial hub where the city and suburbs began to blend together.

Farah was an XCOM sympathizer, having helped smuggle items in and out of Babylon for almost two years now. And if she played her part correctly and properly disposed of Abraham's car, her store wouldn't even be compromised.

Well, probably. There was always a chance ADVENT might be able to connect the dots, scattered as they were. Sara had taken great cautions to ensure they couldn't trace Abraham's escape here. If they did, it was unfortunate, as the woman was admittedly quite useful.

But smugglers were much easier to replace than computer scientists. Abraham's skills were infinitely more valuable.

Farah had already set everything up. The shop owner inclined her head gratefully towards Sara, and gestured towards the tall, ribbed sheet of metal embedded in the back wall - the truck unloading door. Or loading, in this case.

Sara lifted the sliding metal door up, revealing a waiting cargo truck - Farah's usual supplier. Abraham was going to be stowing away among a perfectly legitimate shipment of electronic devices. Farah's trucks had an established track record, and wouldn't be thoroughly searched. The crate Abraham was going to hide in was shielded against outside scans, and with his body weight, would weigh just about as much as the other crates.

Sara was certain that Abraham would be smuggled out successfully, because she had tested the method personally. She had been skeptical of the need, at first, but Director Mohammed had assured her that acquiring a computer specialist was truly that important. So she had climbed into the crate herself, subjecting her body to several hours of cramped immobility. It was tremendously uncomfortable, to be sure.

But it had worked flawlessly, and that is what mattered.

...

Time to reassure him one last time.

"You're going to be fine," she said, taking his hand in her own and gently squeezing it. "You'll be out of there before midnight. I'll be there to let you out myself, okay?"

He pursed his lips, nodding firmly to bolster his own confidence.

"Alright," he said. "But can you promise me something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Rub my shoulders for me when I get out," he chuckled nervously. "I'll probably need it."

Sara laughed too, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "I promise. Now come on, let's get going."

And with those parting words, Sara watched him climb into the truck, Farah helping to tuck him away into the crate. He gave her a thumbs up, and then ducked his head down as Farah secured the crate lid on top of him. Farah got out, and helped Sara close and bolt the cargo truck's doors. Farah gave her an expectant look, and Sara handed her the keys to Abraham's car. Her own set, anyway.

It was too early to celebrate, of course. She had been trained better than that.

But this mission was as good as done.

Tehran, Iran - Near Mellat Park

Damien pressed two fingers against his neck to check his pulse.

...elevated, but steady. That was good. He needed to keep up with at least part of his workout.

He had just finished an early morning jog around Mellat Park, having woken up an hour early to make time for some exercise. The Nation Park made for quite the enjoyable area to jog around. Unlike the rest of the former national capital, the park's beauty had not diminished over the last few years. It was well maintained, with several rows of flowers beds, trees, and fountains. There weren't many people around, but most of them seemed content, at the least, taking an early respite among the natural delights. In the distance, he could see the needle-like crest of the Milad tower, and even further behind that, the snow-capped Alborz mountains.

Iran is actually pretty nice. Definitely not as hot as I expected.

Mellat Park was about ten minutes away from Damien's hotel. He figured that, were anyone spying on him, him taking his time to appreciate the local sights could only help to add to his cover of being a tourist.

His quick break over, Damien rolled his shoulders and turned around the street corner, where his hotel was. He hummed a tune he had heard a man in the park singing. He stopped after a while, though, conserving his breath to increase his pace. The sooner he got back, the sooner he could shower, change his clothes, and head out to the Fang's base.

Negotiations were going pretty well. He was looking forward to bringing them into XCOM.

After a few more minutes of jogging, he recognized someone.

Amir, his local contact, was standing in front of the hotel, looking up at the rooms on the second floor.

"Hey," Damien greeted in Persian, walking over with a hand raised in greeting. "See any black cats up there?"

That stupid code phrase is going to be the first change, honestly...

Upon getting closer to him, Damien realized that the man was not Amir. Not only that, he gave no sign that he had even registered Damien's presence.

Damien suddenly realized that the man was staring at his room, unflinching and unblinking. And he was smiling.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The man hadn't moved since he called out to him, either.

"Sorry, wrong person," Damien muttered, turning around sharply on his heels and jogging back the way he came. When he was sure no one was looking, he ducked behind the wall of a nearby shop, peering out from around the corner.

The man wasstill staring at Damien's hotel room.

...that is not normal. Something is wrong here, and I might be compromised.

Damien slunk away from the building, acting as casually as possible. He wasn't exactly a spy, but he had been trained for this by one of the Director's best agents. As he began to walk back the way he came, Damien scanned the nearby area, looking for anyone who was either obviously watching him or was too innocent.

But nothing struck out at him.

Not good.

There was nothing incriminating in his hotel room. Nothing against XCOM, anyway, although the police might be a little upset about his fake travel documents, if they found them. Still, a strange man staring intently at his room was too suspicious to pass up.

I need to warn the Fangs about this, and send a signal to HQ.

Damien fished the cellphone out of his pocket, and sent off a text message. It was an innocuous thing, meaningless to any outside observers, but was sent to his handler. Damien didn't even know who his handler was, but the coded distress message would eventually be relayed back to the Director, he was certain of that. XCOM communication protocol was incredibly thorough, especially with the recent tightenings to ensure security.

Damien decided that he would take a long detour on foot to reach the Fangs' base, instead of meeting the transportation van like he had the past three days. If he jogged, it would take him...about an hour, probably.

No time to waste, then. If this turns out to be nothing, they'll understand why I'm late. They're a fairly reasonable group, when it comes down to it.

Damien set off jogging once again. Only this time, when he stopped to check his pulse, he was much more careful to monitor his surroundings.

The streets were too quiet.

It was still early in the morning, true, but it wasn't that early anymore. Yet there was hardly anyone on the streets, and those who were moved quickly and with a hint of fear in their eyes. As he got closer to the Fang's base, Damien had to slow down to blend in. It was clear that people did not jog through this part of the city.

It added an extra fifteen minutes to his travel time, but Damien eventually got within a few blocks of the base, located in the part of the city where the big, blocky apartment buildings began to give way to smaller houses. From his current position, Damien had a slight elevation advantage on the base, and had a reasonably good view of it.

...it looked fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.

...

And then he heard it.

Whatever it was, it was far away, but Damien heard a thudding kind of noise. Repetitive, at exactly the same intervals. Construction noise, maybe?

...no, it's getting closer.

As the source of the noise got closer, Damien realized that there was a mechanical whirring after each thud, and that it was more of a metallic, clanking stomp than a mere thud. More than that, whatever it was was moving pretty damn fast.

...oh no.

...oh, fuck! FUCK!

Damien ducked out of the way, dashing into a nearby alley and hiding behind a dumpster.

Damien only had a brief moment where the source of the noise was in view, briefly appearing in between the buildings that created the alley, but there was no mistaking what it was.

A Sectopod.

The bipedal, pitch-black war robot was little more than a big, armored box on stilts, but the Sectopod was a nigh unstoppable war machine. The otherwise utilitarian and spartan design was decorated only by a few glowing red lines, and the ADVENT logo on each 'thigh' of the stilts. The Sectopod's armor was completely impervious to most modern explosives, let alone small arms fire. There was an enhanced gauss cannon mounted into the top of the machine, that made full use of the height advantage granted when its legs extended vertically, bringing the armored box just over two stories off the ground. And if that wasn't enough, there was some kind of...energy cannon, embedded in the front-facing center of the machine, which was strong enough to destroy an M1 Abrams tank in a single shot.

XCOM had never managed to even disable one, let alone destroy one. As such, the standing policy when one of the rare machines was encountered was the immediate abortion of the mission. They were that dangerous.

Even when humanity had openly waged war against the aliens, all those years ago, Sectopods were almost completely invincible. The only times that they had ever fallen were the results of repeated airstrikes or being struck with multiple HEAT rounds from a tank.

Damien kept himself well hidden as the giant machine charged down the street. Following just after the Sectopod, an ADVENT armored van followed behind, creeping along at a slow pace.

I've got to get out of here, now!

Damien spun around, taking off in the other direction. Mercifully, the street on the other side of the alley was devoid of any ADVENT.

...but it was devoid of any civilians, too. People were probably watching him through the windows, people that could potentially report his presence later. Not that they would know who he was, but his description might be enough for ADVENT to go on.

Not anywhere close to safe, need to get the fuck out of here...

Damien rushed away, trying to keep his pace in-between a conspicuous jog and an extremely conspicuous sprint.

After less than a minute of running, he heard some kind of an explosion behind him, and the distinct sound of magnetic weapon fire.

Damien knew that the Fangs' fate was sealed the moment he heard the Sectopod. Not even ADVENT would parade something like that around in plain sight without a good reason.

...poor bastards are going to be slaughtered. How did ADVENT even know? They had just barely gotten started! And to think, I would have been one of them, if not for that creepy fucker outside the hotel!

He shook his head while he ran.

Not the time, Damien, just keep fucking running!

And so he did.

Some thirty minutes later, Damien was on his way towards the public transit station. He had thrown his cellphone away in a trashcan. It was disposable, and didn't have any usable intel on it, but he had to assume the possibility that it might be compromised. He no longer had a safe means of contacting Amir, but for all he knew, Amir was the one who ratted out the Fangs! No, he would have to make his way out on his own.

After hastily buying a new shirt, a hat, and sunglasses from a clothes shop, Damien was still assembling his plan. The first step would be to get out of town. Then, he would have to find some way to either contact HQ, Arzen Outpost, or some other XCOM affiliate. Then again, if Amir sold out the Fangs, then he might have sold out Arzen. Damien couldn't be certain that it was safe.

He swore under his breath, drawing a few looks from passersby.

I'll think about that later! I just need to get out of Tehran. There's no megacity in Iran, so I just need somewhere with less ADVENT presence...Qazvin, or maybe Takestan. I can figure it out there!

The transit station wasn't far now. With a little luck, he would be able to catch a bus right away. He had a decent bit of cash on him...after he got off, he might be able to rent a car or something, and ditch it when he got far enough away.

...there was some kind of commotion going on behind him. Damien refused to turn around and look, instead tucking his head down and walking faster.

Someone yelled behind him. High strung as he was, Damien couldn't tell if it was Persian or Glyph that was being yelled.

But he wasn't about to chance it, so he started walking even faster.

As soon as he rounded the next street corner, Damien sidestepped into another alleyway, and began to run.

A/N: No doubt that most of my audience has already heard of it, but if you're clamoring for more XCOM, I'd recommend the Hades Contingency and the Atlas Protocol by Xabiar. It's purely an XCOM: EW story, nothing to do with XCOM 2, and our interpretations of the aliens differ quite a bit, but it's still very well-written and enjoyable. Unbelievably long, though, so bear in mind you'll be reading it for some time to come.

[No, this is not a paid promotion.]

I'm not going to post a new thread on the XCOM subreddit for a while, because I don't want to spam it. These last three chapters have come out in very quick succession because I've been on Spring Break, which is about to end. Odds are strong that I'll get one more out very soon, but expect the pace to drop a bit after that.

As a bit of a teaser, there is a big operation coming up. Not 100% sure if it's going to be the next chapter, but it's likely.

Haven't been doing anything very interesting, lately, because I've been writing up a storm!

Always looking for feedback! Until next time, everyone.