an- thanks ever and always to Drakependragon and Reikson for the help and support
As the helicopter touched down, Riley Finn jumped out of the vehicle, waving to the pilot as the whirring blades kicked up dust and made him squint reflexively. Moving forward quickly to get out of the dust cloud, he shook the hand of the officer waiting for him on the tarmac.
"Welcome to Alchemy Island, Commander Finn. I'm Major Barry Curtis," the officer said, smiling pleasantly behind his bespectacled gaze. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Commander, you come highly recommended."
"Thank you, sir," Riley said neutrally, still blinking the dust of his eyes.
"How's the wife?" Curtis made small talk as he led Riley down a small flight of stairs to another stairwell.
"Recovering," Riley replied, the cool air of the stairwell speaking volumes about the facility's ventilation and air conditioning system. "The baby was ahead of schedule."
"Oh? Did you get there in time for the delivery?" Curtis asked as they made their way down a flight of stairs to an elevator that was waiting for them.
R"Yes, sir." Riley nodded, absently noting that the elevator required a keycard just to access the button panel.
"Then you didn't miss the important stuff." Curtis shrugged, pressing a button marked G. "The time after that is for the mother, you'd just be in the way."
"Yeah, her mother and sister implied as much," Finn shrugged. As the elevator began to move down, he turned to Curtis. "So what's really going on here?"
"Product demo," Curtis shrugged. "The firm is Alchemetech, and you're here to help determine if any of their so-called innovations make use of proprietary technology."
Finn sighed. "This is about Alchemetech and The Initiative?"
"You're familiar with them?"
Riley scoffed. "Alchemetech owns about half of the bleeding-edge tech used to build and maintain The Initiative before it was ultimately shut down."
"Is that even legal?" Curtis quirked an eyebrow.
"Technically," Riley shrugged. "I'm sure a good-enough lawyer might shut them down, but they've likely made enough headway in repurposing the technology they've scavenged to be able to afford good lawyers themselves."
"Finn, The Initiative was a US military project." Curtis noted. "As far as I'm concerned, anything that Maggie Walsh discovered belongs to the US Army; the American people."
Riley quirked an eyebrow at him. "You think they stole secrets?"
"I'm not the expert here, you are. That's why you're here, after all." Curtis shrugged. "But I'll not see innovations designed to protect this country be handed over to some Silicon Valley startup that's going to turn around and sell that information to anyone who can afford it, including our enemies."
Then Finn caught Curtis looking at him. The wary stare was all too familiar to him, making him groan inside.
"There a problem, sir?" Finn asked, the tone of his voice indicating he already seemed to know.
Curtis grimaced, obviously catching on.
"I've read your files, Finn, even the parts Intel told me not to; interesting stuff."
"But…?" Riley drawled, wanting to get on with the inevitable dressing-down.
"The lone-wolf attitude, questioning chain-of-command, breaking protocol…" Curtis shook his head. "I get that the Initiative going sideways was a bad experience all around, but I'm not seeing justification for becoming a problem child."
Riley chuckled bitterly. "You read the full file, right?" he noted sardonically. "That means you saw the Threat Assessment report that I submitted six months before Sunnydale collapsed."
"You recommended establishing contact with persons of interest. Summers and her team, the vampire in Los Angeles-"
"I also explained exactly what to expect from them if they came to view any scenario as an extinction-level event." Riley interrupted, sounding testy.
Curtis sighed. "I'll admit; your level of prescience was remarkably accurate."
"Long story short, sir? Everything I told command not to do? They still did."
"I can see being embittered, but still-"
"Maggie-" he cut himself off reproachfully. "Professor... Walsh's use of the facility was, at the very least, highly unethical and that's assuming it wasn't completely unauthorized." Riley snapped. "But, personally, she was like family to me, sir, and she manipulated me and betrayed my trust."
Curtis grunted. "I guess I'll have to accept that."
"You sound like that's annoying to you."
"I've read your files, Finn, but I wanted to know what the man behind the words was like." Curtis shrugged. "I think I understand you better now."
"Good, then I can assume that you'll stop pretending to be Major Curtis?"
"What? What are you…"
"Curtis, the real one, anyways, has enough clearance to know about The Initiative," Riley shook his head. "But the threat assessment? Never mind what I wrote in it, that's above his pay grade; way above."
Curtis sighed, and then took off his cap to reveal some distinctly non-regulation hair. "Luka Redgrave, investigative reporter," he said, offering his hand. "What gave me away?"
"No offense, but you've got baby-soft hands for a guy who's supposed to have fought in every theater in the last decade." Riley said lightly. "But the piss-poor hacking job you did on my email was the real giveaway."
"Army Intel's on to me?"
"Army intelligence? Are you kidding?" Riley waved his concerns away. "Curtis was so happy to get out of this product demo that he didn't even question how he won tickets to a Caribbean Cruise he didn't enter."
Luka sighed, leaning against an elevator wall. "So what, then? I thought the hacking job was pretty slick."
"I have a few, er… friends, who give me a heads up whenever anyone so much as glances at the data on The Initiative much less my connections to that debacle."
Luka grimaced. "You plan to rat me out?"
"That depends on why you're so interested in Alchemetech, Mr. Redgrave."
"Alchemetech's run by an uncommonly-powerful witch, who's also a member of an order of witches that's been at war with mankind for the last six hundred years." Luka sighed, running his fingers back through his hair.
Once again, Riley was forced to realize that while he might be Uncle Sam's go-to guy for preternatural shenanigans, there was still a whole world out there that he had no idea even existed.
"I think that she's plotting an end to that war and I don't think that mankind's gonna be the beneficiary. She's gonna use the US military and, more importantly, technology scavenged from the Initiative to accomplish her goals."
"Look, I believe you, okay?" Riley sighed. "so when we get on site? Let me do the talking."
"Hey, I have experience as an undercover journalist, I know what I'm doing."
"Please, you're a terrible actor; I figured that out pretty quickly," Riley sighed. "besides, youre a person of interest."
"Why?"
"Like I said, I have friends in odd places, and they're looking for an old friend of yours, goes by the name of Bayonetta."
"Bayonetta killed my father and I think she erased my memory. She's no friend of mine." Luka spat.
"Well, something's going on and Bayonetta... or at least people connected to her… have gotten themselves involved. So, as of right now, you've become a lead."
The elevator opened up to a large lobby, where a car was waiting for them. Somewhere in the distance was the main feature of the Alchemetech corporate complex; an intimidating edifice that was the company's corporate headquarters. The sight of guards patrolling the grounds, armed with assault rifles and decked out in the best gear money could buy, was quite a sobering realization.
"How do we play this?" Luka whispered.
"You have gloves?" Riley hissed.
"Nice ones," the reporter murmured.
"Put 'em on and leave 'em on," the career soldier ordered. "You've the soft skin of a man who hasn't so much as glanced in the direction of a firearm, never mind being in combat."
Their car ride was quick and spent in silence as it swung through a few turns before stopping in front of Alechemetech headquarters. A pretty young woman in a grey pantsuit smiled at them, quite disarming if they hadn't been who they were; a slightly-amnesiac journalist and a problematic soldier who was too valuable for Uncle Sam to cashier or even restrict to a desk job.
"Remember, let me do the talking," Finn hissed as they got out of the car.
"Major Curtis, Lieutenant-Commander Finn; welcome to Alchemetech."
"Thank you, Miss…?" When she just smiled, but refused to answer, Riley rushed ahead and added, "I hope you don't mind, but the major has a bit of a head cold; his throat's a mess."
"I understand," she nodded politely. "If you gentleman will just step this way, we can begin the tour."
"Thank you; that'll be fine," Luka rasped in a gravelly voice.
The woman walked ahead so she didn't see Riley elbow Luka roughly.
"You have a sore throat, you're not auditioning to be the next Batman," the soldier hissed.
"Sorry, but this sneaking around isn't really me." Luka snapped back.
"Well, it'd better be," Riley growled. "This island's owned by Alchemetech, and since it sits outside official US boundaries, they have complete autonomy in dealing with intruders;
-like a nosy reporter?"
- or the US military 's problem child, exactly. Finn hissed, "Now shut up and let's catch up."