25 – SINCLAIR'S PLAN

Wilson heard the slamming of the door to the cell room and looked up to see that the Yellow soldier who had punched him earlier, Inez, had returned. She hit the control panel to open his cell, and then picked the Purple spy up with her robotic arm, much like a ragdoll. This effect was increased by the lack of movement in Wilson's body due to the neural blocker.

"C'mon, spy. It's playtime."

"Uh…playtime?" Wilson wondered.

"Playtime," confirmed Inez calmly. "We've set up a sparkly little room just for you."

She carried Wilson through the halls, going even deeper into the bowels of Yellow Base. Wilson realized that he had never heard Inez speak much before, let alone speak happily, and somehow this lightly terrified him. After about three minutes Inez took him into a small room and tied him to a chair there. However, this was clearly no ordinary room. Every square centimeter of the wall in the room was covered with shining energy shields, transparent surfaces with little mass that could reflect or absorb any object trying to pass through them.

Wilson looked around in confusion; this was unlike any interrogation method he had been through so far. He had no idea what the energy shields were for. Normally, they were used as defensive structures.

Inez gave a slight throaty chuckle, the first semblance of a laugh Wilson had heard her utter, though it sounded more like a dry cough than anything else. Then the Yellow said to him: "Have fun."

Interrogations must be what this Yellow is really into, Wilson thought to himself. The ONLY thing I've ever seen her into. Something tells me I should be afraid. Very afraid.

Inez left the room, the door sealing behind her and making an electronic buzzing as its shield surface fell back into place, flush with the rest of that wall.

As Wilson continued to stare around at the room in wonder, the Yellows were watching him from behind a shield that also acted as a two-way mirror. Patton, Hester, and Clair stood next to Inez and Ryan, all observing the Purple.

"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to conduct this interrogation," Clair stated to Patton.

"Duly noted." said Patton. "But I have far more experience with interrogations, and this spy has far too much important information."

"You do have experience, don't we all know it," Hester agreed.

Inez made another dry coughing noise in agreement.

"But the shield walls were my idea," Clair protested. "And in any case, you don't even know yet what I have in mind for them."

"I thought they were just some weird decoration to psyche him out or something," said Ryan. "I mean, I'm standing out here, and I'm starting to feel a little weirded out."

"Listen boss," Clair said to Patton. "No offense to your skill, but I know Wilson better than anyone else here. I may not have worked with him long -hell, not even a day- but even so I know I can get into his head better than any of you can."

"True," said Hester. "Thing is, none of us know him that well at all. He's not even told us his real name."

"I'm wasn't done," said Clair, voice surprisingly cold for someone addressing a superior. "Secondly, when he revealed himself to be a spy, he betrayed all of the trust I had in him. Ever since I've been stationed at this base, I've had so much stuff to do with little if any help to do it. And then Wilson came along. I thought I might actually be able to put my trust in someone better then a former Blue who tries to microwave his magnum every other night! He was going to be…like…my partner. And then he destroyed all of that."

Patton noticed that she had started gripping the hallway railing so tightly that its metal was becoming slightly warped.

"And also there's the fact that I have shield walls set up in that room for one very specific plan, a plan that will shake him to his core and that WILL get him to talk. I have some psychological treatment training, after all. That is why I must be the one to do this."

"So, you want revenge?" Hester asked quietly, cutting Ryan off. Clair jerked in her armor.

"I...guess." She admitted. Hester laughed, just once.

"Should have said that before, Captain," She added, before nodding to Patton.

Ryan gave a nervous laugh and called out: "Did she just morph into, like, an evil overlord or something-"

"Do it." Patton interrupted, talking to Clair. "You probably need some interrogating experience anyways."

Clair nodded. "Thanks, boss." She then turned to Ryan. "I need your plasma launcher."

"What?" Ryan asked quickly.

"Your Plasma Launcher. One of the weapons you borrowed from Command, the shoulder mounted cannon that fires plasma grenades."

"Go get it, Hobar," Patton ordered. "Double time."

"Yes sir," Ryan said as he turned and made for his quarters at a good clip.

"Shield walls and a Plasma Launcher," Hester thought out loud to herself. "What could she-" The pieces fit into place in her mind, and she chuckled. "Now that's clever!"

"What?" Patton asked.

"You'll see," Hester responded. "It's probably best if I don't spoil it for you. You'll like this, trust me."

"Then I think I'll just wait then." Patton replied.

Ryan returned about five minutes later carrying the plasma launcher. "Here she is," he called out, indicating the weapon by shaking it over his head.

"Good," said Clair. "Now set the launcher for a lower charge. Whatever setting is the highest that won't kill. We want him to talk, not to die…yet."

"Interrogation setting," said Ryan happily. "I recently installed it into all of the weapons I took from Command. Ever since I saw what Patton did to that Red with the hammer…I guess you could say I felt inspired." He shrugged.

"Glad I could be of help," said Patton.

Clair examined the Launcher, then nodded at Ryan. "That's perfect."

Ryan took a moment to adjust the Plasma Launcher to its interrogation setting, and then he handed it carefully over to Clair. "I do want this back, so try not to damage it. Oh, and try not to blow yourself up too."

"I won't," Clair assured him. She then hoisted the Launcher on her shoulder and stepped into the interrogation room.

"See, Patton?" Hester told the Yellow CO. "This is going to be very fun."

"I can already tell." Patton replied gleefully.

Clair closed the door behind her and approached Wilson, making sure to keep the Plasma Launcher perfectly visible to him.

"Wilson. Or rather, that's your alias for this base, isn't it?"

Wilson looked up at her as best he could. "Oh, hi."

Clair continued: "We overheard you telling the Green prisoner about your private war with two other armies," she explained to the spy. "Thing is, if you're here, that means a Purple base must be near here as well. You're going to tell us its location."

"No," Wilson stated firmly. "If you've already overheard my conversation with the Green then you've already heard enough. I ain't talking."

Clair raised the Plasma Launcher to her shoulder.

"Oh, what's that?" She asked, feigning surprise. No more clever excuses for knowing far more then you should? No more fun conversation?"

"Since you know who I am, our...semblance of a work relationship is over. I ain't talking."

"Like Hell you won't!" Clair began to power up the Plasma Launcher.

Wilson stared up at her in amusement. "Yellow, I think we both know you won't fire that off in here. It would become just as much of a danger to you as it would to me. And furthermore, since this is an interrogation, you need me alive anyways. Do you really think I'm so stupid as to believe that you would risk my death before I've told you everything I know?"

"You betrayed me," Clair said through gritted teeth. "You betrayed all of us. I'll risk anything if it will torment you." The Launcher was now nearly fully charged. "Anything."

"Clair, spare me. You would have to be completely insane-"

Clair pulled the trigger on the Launcher. The gun released a Plasma Grenade, which immediately began bouncing all over the room, being reflected by the shield walls.

"-Are you FUCKING INSANE?" Wilson finished as his sentence changed to a much more panicked nature. He's lowered his head when the grenade started bouncing, and now he raised it again.

Clair began charging the Launcher up for a second firing. Wilson screamed: "You'll kill us both. Are you completely out of your mind?!"

In response, Clair released the second grenade.

Wilson's screams were now reminiscent of the cries the Red soldier Steve had uttered when Patton was interrogating him at Blue Base Iota; in other words, he sounded like a terrified little girl. Not that he was in any real danger, of course. With its interrogation setting on, the Launcher's grenades would only sting, though of course Wilson did not know this. As the two Plasma Grenades ping-ponged around the room Wilson continued to scream like bloody murder until finally he shouted: "Fine, I'll fucking talk!"

Clair hit the discharge button on the Launcher, and both grenades evaporated into whiffs of gas.

"Alright then, now we're getting somewhere. The coordinates for your Purple Base?"

Wilson hastily uploaded the coordinates to Clair's heads-up display. "It's about nine clicks from here, and just underground in a miniature cave system."

"And there's something else we need to know."

"Oh fuck, what is it now?"

"In your private war, you're against the Reds and who else? Who is the sixth army?"

"The Orange Army," Wilson explained, after a short pause and a glance at the launcher still on Clair's shoulder. "And before you ask, yes, they were wiped out. They've also been reborn recently. About the same time as my army, actually. Like us, they were probably waiting in secret. Waiting until the right moment came, a moment of discord for the other armies that they could take advantage of."

"The revolt at Roster Teth," Clair finished for him.

"Most likely," said the spy. "Their origins are shady, even to us. At this point, your guess is as good as mine."

"What planet did they reclaim first?"

"We don't actually know. We just know that in recent months they've been coordinating at a secret location, or locations. Honestly, their rise to power is almost as mysterious as that of the Reds, only they came back over several weeks, not days."

Clair nodded. "I see. You wouldn't happen to know where any of their bases are, would you?"

"No. Sorry."

Clair raised the Plasma Launcher.

"You sure?" She asked calmly.

"I'M SURE!" Wilson stammered. "DEAD SURE!"

Clair decided his response was fearful enough to be believable. "Okay then, I just need one more piece of information."

"Oh man, not another one...fine, what now?"

"You're real name."

Wilson hesitated. Clair again threatened with the Launcher.

"It's…Zalias. James Zalias." Wilson said quickly.

Clair put her face right in front of the spy's. "Alright then, Mr. Zalias. When we get to the Purple Base, we'll be sure to look up the roster for personnel. And if you're name isn't in it, then-" She pointed at the Launcher.

"Oh, son of a BITCH," the spy spat. "Fine. My real name's Travis Chamealon."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

The spy, Travis, nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. It's not an alias this time. That's my real name. It'll be on the base roster."

"Good," said Clair, lowering the launcher. "I think we're done here…for now."

She exited the room to find that every other member of the base had been watching from out in the hallway, through the two-way mirror.

"That was awesome!" shouted Ryan, pumping his fist. "I had no idea you had such a dark side in you."

"Good work, Sinclair," Patton congratulated her, patting her shoulder. "I might have you do more interrogations."

"Thanks boss," Clair responded. "He gave me the coordinates for the Purple base in the Wilderness."

"Yes, I heard," said Hester. "It's almost completely dark outside now, though. I think we should head out tomorrow at first light."

"Sounds like a good plan," Hearts agreed. "I hate having to snipe in the dark. IR goggles can get pretty annoying to use sometimes."

"The Purple's guards will be tired. We can hit them when they are weak." Inez added in, the longest sentence any of the group had heard her say.

"Well, let's all get some R&R then," Patton said. "'Cause tomorrow's gonna be a big day."

The Purple spy Travis Chamealon was yet again tossed like a wet filthy dishrag into his cell by Inez's robotic arm. The sound of him crunching against the side of the back wall was intense enough to awaken Kevin from the rough sleep he had managed to enter.

"Sweet dreams, Travis Chamealon," Inez murmured condescendingly at the spy. The she left the way she had come, to door to the detention block slamming behind her. For the umpteenth time that day, Travis groaned. His neural jammer had been purposefully nullified slightly just before the interrogation (so that none of his limbs went dead from remaining in the same position), allowing him a bit of motor function, but only weak movements at best.

Kevin crawled over to the transparent wall separating the two of them. "Travis Chamealon?"

Travis nodded. "Yeah. My real name. They forced it out of me."

"Huh. I figured Daniel Anderson was just another alias of yours. A matter of trust doesn't 'matter' much with a spy, I guess."

"Well, is it like I had a choice?" Travis countered. "The Yellows were almost certainly listening in on us at the time. I couldn't reveal it unless I had no other choice! So of course I gave you an alias."

"Yeah, I get it," Kevin responded. "And don't worry, it's okay."

Travis continued: "Yup, that alias is one of many." After apparently thinking to himself for a moment, he then changed his tone to one far more urgent: "We have to get out of this place. ASAP."

"Tell me something I don't know." Kevin commented. "But what's the rush? Aside from the obvious reason."

"These people are fucking insane!" Travis stammered. "They put me in a room covered with shield walls and then used something to launch a plasma grenade and had it bounce all over the place! They'll kill us both if we don't do something!"

Kevin shook his head in surprise. "Fuck. This is bad. I mean, I know Yellows were brutal, but that..." He sighed. "So what do we do then? I hope you've got a plan, 'cause I sure as hell don't."

Travis let out an angry grunt. "This is all so stupid. I can't believe I didn't last even a single day before being found out!"

"Yeah, what's up with that, anyways?" Kevin asked. "You're like the worst spy in the history of spying."

"This is only my second spy job," said Travis. "Before I came to this planet, I was a rebel on Roster Teth, one of the people who caused the overthrow of the Green occupation. I had learned to fight, to kill. But then Roster Teth was taken, and in order to avoid attracting too much attention from the Blues or Yellows we had to keep a low profile. Thus began the Spy Agency, of which I am a member."

"Your first spy job was in a Green base, wasn't it?" Kevin stated.

"Yes," Travis confirmed. "Avalanche Base. But it was SO different from here. Here, they have all these protocols and things about where you can go. In Avalanche, it was just a bunch of scientists who didn't really care what I did with myself. They have a code where everyone's ideas are taken into account, and that means everyone has access to everywhere. Well, almost everywhere…but certainly it's less restricted then in this place! When I got here, I thought that just like in Avalanche I could explore up and down the place, and no one would give a fuck. But GOD was I wrong!"

Kevin gave his best attempt at a nod. "Yup, that explains quite a lot."

"I'm a terrible spy," Travis admitted. "And I shouldn't be here. Which is why we need to get out."

"I know," said Kevin. "But the question is, how? We're sealed up in this cell block tighter then a gold ingot."

Travis nodded. But before he said anything else he pointed to a camera up on the corner of the room, one which Kevin had somehow not been able to notice. Then he reached groggily up to his helmet and hit a few buttons on it. After reaching what he deemed an appropriate setting, he opened up his tacpad (which he could now barely reach, thanks to his loosened neural jammer) and typed in something.

A message appeared on Kevin's heads-up display: NOW THAT THEY GAVE ME MOTOR FUNCTION, I CAN FINALLY USE THIS WAY TO COMMUNICATE. DON'T WORRY, THIS MESSAGE IS BEING SENT TO YOU ON A FREQUENCY THEY CAN'T POSSILBLY KNOW ABOUT.

Kevin opened up his suit's non-verbal communication system, a standard install that most soldiers didn't use, and replied: GOOD PLAN. SO, HOW DO WE GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE?

WITH THIS. After making sure he was out of view of the camera, Travis pulled out a keycard. I MAY HAVE HAD VERY LIMITED MOTOR FUNCTION, BUT IT DOESN'T TAKE MUCH. I MANAGED TO GET THIS OFF OF SINCLAIR WHEN SHE WAS PREOCCUPIED WITH THE GRENADE LAUNCHING DEVICE.

Kevin shook his head and typed in: THAT'S SOMETHING, BUT HOW ARE WE GOING TO USE IT? WE CAN'T EVEN REACH THE CONTROL PANEL FROM HERE.

Travis typed in: NEVER SAY NEVER. THERE'S ALWAYS A WAY. I'VE HAD TO DO MUCH TOUGHER ESCAPES THEN THIS.

Kevin's only response was: ELABORATE. WE STILL NEED TO REACH THE CONTROL PANEL.

Travis pulled out another device, which looked like a thin metal rod that was curved at the end. He then eyed the many little air holes in the front wall of his cell, which were certainly large enough for the rod to fit through. LEAVE THAT TO ME.