Chapter 28: The Changing of Tides

There was something very dangerous in placing a dozen powerful men in the same room, thought William Bell.

He was seated at the corner of the rectangular table, on the Secretary's left side, who sat at the end, facing down the table with a view of everyone present. The rest, ten in number, filled in the remaining places, each of them fulfilling a specific purpose. Some brought wealth and funding, while others brought resources and knowledge; whatever the area of expertise, every man in the room was a vital gear in the clockwork of their secretive orchestrations.

And secretive it was; in a world of nearly seven billion, only the twelve members of the Global Defence Coalition were truly aware of the threat of oblivion their world – and the universe at large – was facing.

But even with a common cause, there was palpable grinding amidst the gears, for everyone in the room had their own vision as to how best wage their righteous battle against the Other Side. Bell could sense the unspoken agendas roiling behind the facades of his colleagues like waves of heat, just as he was sure they could sense the same from him. There wasn't much to be done in that respect; it was simply par for the course in the quarterly GDC roundtable meetings.

Bell had been a founding member of the GDC, recruited by two men who were very impressed with the rapid progression of BellMedic. One was Walter Bishop, who back then was the US Defence Czar, and would later become the Secretary of Defence. The other was Karl Manning, who was the founder and CEO of Manning Industries and head to the North Woods Group. Over the next twenty years, they stocked their organization with members loyal to their cause, and the current roster comprised of the most influential figures yet.

They went around the table as they did with all meetings, starting with Walter Bishop's immediate right. Here sat Secretary of Treasury James Van Horn, Walter's accomplice in the presidential Cabinet, and whose primary function was finding ways to funnel funds to the GDC's operations while maintaining the organization's secrecy among the higher tiers of the government. Next to Van Horn was Andrew Whitfield, Senator of North Texas and Walter's eyes and ears in the United States Congress.

After matters pertaining to these two were reviewed – during which relevant diagrams and charts were displayed on the table surface at each of the twelve seats – they directed their attention to media mogul Pierce Rothstein, CEO and Chairman of NewsCorp, a large media conglomerate that owned a few mainstream media outlets and influenced many more. His was a central task, making sure that the GDC and its activities, as well as the true nature of universal decay, continued to remain beyond the range of public awareness. Bell knew of the popular conspiracy theories that had Walter Bishop as their centerpiece, many fuelled by the fact that he has been repeatedly elected as the Secretary of Defence over multiple administrations; many of the men present in the room also enjoyed decent coverage. There was truth in these elaborate narratives – as there was always truth to anything – but Walter Bishop would sooner have these occasional truths remained buried beneath the mounds of unfounded conspiracies than be revealed to the masses.

Next in line were Generals Steven Tonks and Sanford Harris, their connection to the US Army and Air Force, respectively. With the American military under the jurisdiction of the Department of Defence, their cooperation and loyalty had been easiest to obtain. They spoke of weapons testing, trying out the newest prototypes developed and designed by the joint effort of the DOD Science Division and DARPA, and manufactured by Manning Industries, the largest military contractor in the United States. There was also talk of field tests for the newest iterations of the V-Nade and the Nova Pulse Rifle, as well as progress of their missile and nuclear weapon stockpiling operation, a precautionary measure in the event worse came to worst.

Attention shifted to Karl Manning, arguably the most significant contributor to the group, who was sitting at the other end of the table, facing the Secretary. It was apt that Manning was sitting there, as he had been Walter's first ally, and it was from their joint efforts that the GDC came to be, the spark of Walter's animosity for his doppelganger and the theft of his son reigniting the decaying fire that was the North Woods Group, both united in their crusade against the Other Side.

From the beginning, Bell had distrusted Manning. He was a wealthy and powerful figure, both the founder of Manning Industries – this world's answer to Massive Dynamic, Bell had soon discovered – as well the inheritor of the NWG's wealth, power, and legacy. In many respects, he was not unlike Bell. But that was not the problem; the problem was the Vacuum Machine, and how he both came to discover it and find many of its components prior to the founding of the GDC.

At least with the Secretary of Defence, there was no question as to what his motives were and why he was invested in the Silent War. With Manning, there was no greater mystery.

Karl had much to say, first updating the board on the status of soldier construction for the three Waves and weapons manufacturing and stockpiling, then moving on to Intel sent back to them by both Hybrid operatives and NWG Vanguard agents – Intel to which Bell had made slight adjustments to prior to their meeting. ZFT and Massive Dynamic continued to be nuisances as ever, but what was most distressing was the increased activity in MD-brand Penrose supersoldier clones, with the first completely-trained specimens being sent out on their first trial runs in covert military campaigns and tentative offensives against GDC-run operations on the Other Side.

When decisions on how to proceed with Manning's input were deliberated and agreed upon by the rest, Dietrich Mahler went next; he was the representative of the Coalition's German associates, their primary foreign allies in this undertaking. For it was German scientists in WWII that started all this, their early experiments into peeking at the Other Side laying the foundation for an inter-world Cold War, colloquially called the Colder War, one that ran concurrent to the more popular Russo-American conflict. And the Colder War might have remained Cold for much longer had the 1985 Zero Event not occurred, the catalyst through which the passive Colder War became the active Silent War thanks to the GDC.

The North Woods Group, originally a multinational, exclusive club of bankers and economists established in the thirties by Maxwell Manning, had a history with Mahler's people, Bell had learned; Manning had recounted to him how an alliance struck between the NWG and marginalized German parties harbouring anti-Nazi sentiments was one of the lesser known contributing factors to the downfall of the would-be Fourth Reich, and it was these past dealings that allowed Karl to reach out to those his grandfather had partnered with and persuade them to join their cause, who sent Mahler as their representative.

Following Mahler were three significant financial backers to the GDC: Theodore Krantz of Griffin Oil, Jimmy Thurston of Pewter-Thurston Electronics, and David Esterbrook of INtREPUS Pharmaceuticals. Their reports were shorter, as their only real purpose was wiring funds and resources to the GDC.

The faces of the financial backers had changed over the years, with new CEOs succeeding them, or older members reneging on their support, only to suffer "unfortunate accidents" that ensured their silence, at which point other companies would fill the void; the military officials have changed once or twice as well due to retirement. Only Walter, Manning, and Bell, the founding members, have occupied permanent seats in the history of the GDC.

This was the enemy that threatened Bell's world of origin. And at the Secretary's behest, William Bell, Chief Scientist of the DOD Science Division and founder, former CEO, and Chairman of BellMedic, began to actively aid this enemy in their quest to destroy a world he was trying to protect from them.

"Thank you, Mister Secretary," said Bell curtly. "Gentlemen, the progression of the First Wave continues to approach the optimal level of infiltration required for the commencement of the Second Wave. In the time since our last meeting, we've continued to install Hybrid operatives in high-ranking governmental and international entities that exist on the Other Side. At present, the First Wave of Operation Ragnarok is approximately 81.4% complete."

"That isn't much of an improvement over the last projections," noted an unimpressed Dietrich Mahler as he observed the charts and figures that appeared on the table surface before him.

"There have been some... complications," said Bell uneasily. "I regret to inform the members of this board that we've lost another of the Big Eight. About two months ago, Carlisle was destroyed in an ambush during an operation in Central America, and the body was damaged beyond possible repair. With only Gottfried and Raines remaining as our active First Wave Commanders, progression has slowed significantly."

A pause formed as the dozen took in the grim news. Dietrich in particular seemed displeased, which was never a good sign; more than once had he shared that those he represented had doubts as to the prospects of their ongoing operation.

"On the positive side," offered Bell, "Project Lazarus is nearing completion. Very soon, we will have completed a new body for Newton. When it is ready, the replacement body will be transferred to the Other Side, at which point the head will be reattached, restoring Newton to an active status and filling in for Carlisle."

"Any timeframe for when this new body will be completed?" asked Esterbrook.

"Barring potential unforeseen complications, it will take two more weeks to make the final adjustments. Three, at the most."

It had been four years since Thomas Jerome Newton's body had been destroyed in Darfur; his head, however, had remained undamaged enough to warrant indefinite cryogenic suspension. Cue Project Lazarus, which aimed to design a new body to which Newton's head could be reattached. Yet Newton was a First-Generation Hybrid, one of eight created during the Colder War by the NWG-German alliance, and the technology was slightly different than Bell's own Second-Gen designs. Due to lack of extant Colder War-era blueprints and documents, Bell and his team had to create a First-Gen compatible body from scratch in a four-year game of trial-and-error.

Fortunately, the toiling was soon to reach its end. Yet Bell had been granted no say as to the secret mission stored in the Data Disk that was to be implanted in the finalized body, a daring mission the Secretary was plotting as part of the final phase of Operation Ragnarok, one only Bell, Walter, and Manning knew about.

He would have to warn the Other Side of Newton's impending arrival... but how?

The thought was shelved when Dietrich spoke once more.

"Supposing Project Lazarus is successful, can you guarantee that Newton's presence will accelerate the advancement of the First Wave and make up for the losses caused by Carlisle's departure?" When Bell hesitated to speak, Mahler continued. "The First Wave began twenty years ago, and progress has been dwindling these past few years. When will we be seeing results?"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mahler," said Jimmy Thurston. "Our company's investment in this venture is very high-risk. Without results, there's little cause for continued contribution."

The dominoes of dissent cascaded around the table, with even the military officials expressing their reservations as to the possibility of success despite their steadfast loyalty. Only Manning and Walter held their tongues, observant as always. It was Walter's unequalled patience and Manning's charisma that held this group together, Bell knew, but the tension in the room gave him the sense that they would not stand for this much longer.

After the wave of opposition had crested and fallen, all eyes turned to Bell, waiting to see what assurances he would offer them this time. But now was not the time for empty promises; something had to be done.

He rose from his seat.

"If you may be so kind, gentlemen," he said, "I'd invite you all to follow me."

"Where to, might I ask?" inquired the Secretary.

"There's something I'd like to show you."

Bell opened the door, waiting to see if they would follow. Walter was the first to rise after a moment's consideration; the man had come to trust Bell in time, much to his advantage. The sight of their leader getting up incited the rest to do likewise, and Bell led the procession all the way to the Science Division at the lower levels of the facility.

When they arrived, Doctor Brandon Fayette, Lead Lab Assistant of the DOD Science Division and Bell's immediate subordinate, approached them, grasping a clipboard with one hand and smoothing his white lab coat with the other.

"Doctor Bell," he said, surprised by the sudden arrival of a dozen men. "Mister Secretary. Uh, what can I do for you?"

"If you wouldn't mind, Doctor Fayette, I'd like to show these gentlemen to Humphrey's cell."

"The cell, huh? Uh, sure. This way, sirs."

The thirteen of them navigated the Science Labs until they came to a large, two-floor room, descending the balcony to the lower level. They stopped before an expansive cell separated from the room they stood in by a transparent pane of reinforced plastic reaching almost to the ceiling. The cell was once a clean, white room, but marks of what appeared to be soil and decaying plant material covered the floor. The right forward corner was a bit wet, water dripping from a metal pipe whose large tank sat on the outside of the cell for ease of accessibility. Red double doors were set in the back right.

The detail that stood out the most, however, were the dirty footprints lining the cell floor, walls, and ceiling alike in all directions. They soon connected these prints to the thing in the cell's upper left back corner, huddled over itself, facing inward.

"What is that?" muttered Mahler.

"That," said Bell, "is Humphrey, one of our first successfully grown Harvesters. Doctor Fayette, have Humphrey approach the pane."

Brandon relayed the order to his team, who spoke into the microphone. The voice command was translated to a mathematical code and routed into the chamber as a radio signal. When Humphrey received the signal, the Harvester stood, craned its head, and obeyed, walking down the wall to the floor and roaming to a halt five feet from the pane. So close to the partition, they could hear the peculiar clicking noises the Harvester was emitting. The GDC members gazed at the entity standing before them, impressed, amazed, and unnerved, none of them except for Walter and Manning having ever seen a Harvester in the flesh.

"I think a demonstration is in order," said Bell. "Doctor Fayette?"

The lab assistant nodded and shared the instructions to his colleagues. A minute later, the backdoors were opened, and a juvenile pine tree was brought in sideways by two scientists, base enrooted in a large pot, and it was upright that the scientists left it. Humphrey seemed to sense the plant material before the tree had even entered, turning around to anticipate the entry moments before.

Knowing what it had to do, Humphrey the Harvester went to work, fulfilling its purpose. The audience watched, enraptured, as Humphrey did what he was designed to do. But the tree appeared unchanged. Seeing this, Doctor Fayette had his colleagues return to the cell, bringing in a plant specimen that Humphrey had interacted with three days ago.

Some of them gasped, others shared wide-eyed looks, and a few muttered some Good Gods and other appropriate substitutes.

Brandon took the opportunity to explain the scientific principles behind what they had witnessed, and what they were now seeing. Looking at their faces, especially Mahler's, Bell could not help but smirk in smug satisfaction, only to then question the pride he felt at being the creator of the being residing on the other side of the pane.

Sated, Humphrey returned to its ceiling corner, whereupon Bell addressed the group.

"You say you want results?" he said, targeting Mahler most of all. "Well, here they are."

Where once they were reluctant, they were now eager. How could the Other Side possibly stand against Humphrey and his brethren?

"How soon can we expect the Harvesters to be ready for deployment, Doctor Bell?" asked the Secretary suddenly, staring into the cell with intent.

"Manning Industries has already begun fabricating the perfected Yggdrasil Seeds, so we can start at any time."

"Good." He turned to face the group. "I want you to get started on that as soon as you can."

Bell could already see what the Secretary intended in those squinting, calculating eyes of his, but he went ahead and asked anyway. "So soon? The First Wave isn't fully completed –"

"It seems the majority opinion is that we have been waiting too long," said Walter, eyeing the group. "And I agree. Time waits for no one, certainly not for us, and we must act with what little of the time we might have left. The First Wave is sufficiently advanced for the next phase, I believe."

He had been preparing for this day from the moment he helped dream up the three Waves of Operation Ragnarok, but William Bell could not stop the shiver in his spine when Walter finished his next sentence.

"Begin the deployment of the Harvesters," he instructed. "The Second Wave starts now."


XxXxXxXxXxX


Upon descending the staircase, Crow stood at a safe distance to examine Gottfried's bullet-riddled corpse. In addition to the earlier shoulder wound, there were holes dotting the torso and abdomen, and one in the thigh; the majority of his meagre ammo reserves had made their mark. Red and silver seeped from the points of entry, trickling down his navy shirt and black pants in rivulets, tributaries to the small pool that was starting to expand from beneath him.

His limp arms lay outstretched, and his head was turned at the side, eyes closed. Gottfried looked more like he was taking a quick catnap than anything else. For some strange reason, Crow thought it was unfortunate that he was gone. In the heat of the moment, it had been a battle for survival, yet he now felt that if things had been different, they could easily have chilled with a beer or two.

Rest in peace, Gottfried. You're the nicest guy I've ever killed.

Crow tucked the Smith & Wesson at the back of his belt, then tucked in his Glock in his coat pocket; having squeezed them dry, they were now useless, and he didn't think pistol whipping was the most effective defense measure. As he sheathed the Glock, he felt something in his other pocket, and reached to pull out his walkie-talkie.

It occurred to him that his friends were still fighting for their lives back on the main playing field.

He had turned off the transceiver to eliminate inopportune noise, but with Gottfried dealt with, he was free to reopen the channels. Promptly, he turned it on and sent out a message.

"This is Crow, come in!" he said with rising urgency. "Keane? Guy? Do you read?"

"...This is Keane," replied Enigma after a moment. "Where the hell are you, man?"

"I'm not exactly sure. But I took down Gottfried. He's dead." Enigma didn't answer, presumably taking in the news. "What about you guys?"

"It's over," said Keane. "We drove the Shapeshifters back." Dan flexed his brows; Enigma didn't sound particularly happy about it. "You should probably get back here."

"Yeah," said Crow, staring at Gottfried's inert body. "I'll meet you at Alpha Point."

"...Copy that."

He put the transceiver away, then turned to Gottfried. For a moment, he was unwilling to leave the Hybrid's body unsupervised, but it wasn't like he would be going anywhere, so Dan embarked on his trek back to the packaging area. He decided to navigate the first floor, heading in the general cardinal direction of the packaging site, and after some uncertain exploration, he started to recognize some of the corridors, and so he made his way down the path he had traversed earlier alongside Axiom and Cazador.

At last, he emerged to the site of the firefight. The fighting had indeed stopped, the present calm almost deafening in comparison to the pandemonium of before. He walked out, positioning himself to take in the whole of the packaging hall. Some Shapeshifter bodies could be seen, and ZFT agents were on the prowl, examining the Seed receptacles or conversing amongst one another or tending to their injuries. But no Liberation Front members could be seen, which Crow found curious.

"Crow!"

Enigma approached him from his right. The gap bridged, they clasped their hands and drew themselves, patting themselves once on the other's back before stepping back. Keane seemed pleased enough to see him, but Dan had the sense that something was troubling him.

"Nice to see you again," said Crow. "For awhile, I wasn't sure I would. Where is everyone?"

"They're all out back that way," said Keane with a cock of the head. "Come on. I'll take you to them."

Without waiting, Enigma started off toward the corridor. Crow noticed that some of the ZFT guys were eying him and talking, but he abandoned them to their gossiping as he caught up to his comrade.

"We got splintered during the fight," explained Keane as they strolled. "My team got separated, but I ended up teaming up with some ZFT guy." Crow gave him a surprised look, prompting Enigma to clarify. "It kind of just happened. He sent word to his buddies that some of us weren't Shapeshifters, and from there, the tides turned pretty quick. The remaining Shapeshifters knew the fight was lost; we tried to chase them down, but some escaped."

Turning the corner, they stepped over a Shapeshifter corpse.

"What do you make of ZFT?" inquired Dan.

"I'm not sure. After the fighting dwindled, I reunited with Spock, and we went looking for the others. Speaking of which, Old Roger and one of his homeless buddies are here."

"What?"

"Yeah. Spock bumped into them on the battlefield. Anyway, the Front's been focusing on regrouping. ZFT has been kind of doing their own thing, but we're going to have to deal with them soon."

"Seems Lenny is the leader, so we should go find him in a bit," said Crow. "What about our guys? How are they holding up?"

Enigma didn't answer, and when Dan set his sights forward, he saw why.

They had entered what looked to be the plant's loading bay, with large garage doors down to the left providing access for delivery trucks. He could see one or two Shapeshifter bodies and a ZFT corpse, but that wasn't what caught his attention.

Before him were standing nine individuals, all gathered around something. Those facing Crow's direction perked up at his sight, causing those facing away to turn around. He could see that they were all relieved to see him, but it was not enough to overcome their sorrowful faces. He joined them at the edge of their circle, his eyes falling down.

He had seen that mask before. But this one was different; there was a small, shattered hole in the center of the forehead where there once was none, rimmed in red.

Dan felt like he was sinking inside himself, drowning as the air in the room wore thin. He clenched his fist, but soon let it go; he only then realized the full extent of his physical pain and exhaustion, and found he was too tired to be angry at the Shapeshifters. He instead was saddened, though it wasn't the same this time around. He hadn't known The Guy as well as he did Gary Saunders, so it was more a general sense of loss than a piercing one. He could see the effect in action before him; the Manhattan Front members were visibly taking it harder than the Boston Front.

Even so, it was clear that Polaris, Druid, Spock, and Enigma were not untouched by The Guy's demise. Rebecca edged over to Crow's side, cupping herself in her arms.

"Axiom and Cazador tried to get us back to Enigma, but we were blocked off and were driven here instead," she explained, speaking softly. "The Guy tried to buy us time to get us back safely."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah. He held them up while we retreated. We bumped into Druid, Starseed, and Dryad and stuck together. Enigma and Spock found us later."

Dan nodded slowly, pensive. He knew very little about the man behind the mask. Standing in silence, he was tempted to kneel down and remove it, revealing the face that lied beneath. He quickly dispelled the notion, however – Crow had learned all he needed to know about The Guy and who he was.

Besides, the idea of taking away The Guy's anonymity kind of felt wrong. After all, he was just some guy – a guy that died for what he believed in.

His eyes drifted to the right, and he caught two figures standing at a distance, one of whom was familiar. An older vagabond in a blue coat with a grey beard was engaged in a heated discussion with a brown man in an orange jacket; when they noticed that Dan was looking their way, they averted their eyes and resumed their fervent discourse.

Spock, noticing Crow's detection of the homeless duo, got Dan's attention, bidding him aside with a motion of his head. Crow shot a glance to his comrades, more so to his recently-acquired Manhattan allies. He had once been in their position; with The Guy having meant more to them, he figured it would be best to let them grieve on their own.

"Enigma tells me they came here to help," informed Crow.

"They saved my ass back there," relayed Spock. "Might be a good idea to go talk to them."

Acquiescing, Crow made his way over to Old Roger and his associate, Spock tagging along. At the sight of Spock and Crow, the two shot up, and put in a few extra words between each other. Roger redressed himself, and when the other man leaned in to make a last comment, Roger backhanded his shoulder, and he too stood straighter.

"Reporting for duty, Mister Crow," greeted Roger, saluting.

"At ease," said Dan, amused. "What brings you here?"

"Me and Higgs here thought we'd help you boys out. Been staking out this place this last week, and when I saw you go in, I fetched Higgs and we broke in. Don't have guns or anything, but we wanted to give a hand anyway we can. Oh, by the way, this is Higgs."

"Henry Higgins, at your service," said the man with the orange coat. "But everybody just calls me Higgs."

"Just wanted you fellas to know that we want to contribute to this resistance thing you got going on," said Roger. "Anyway we can help, you just give the word."

"We'd love to have you aboard," said Crow with a moment's consideration. "I'm sure we can figure out some way to put you to good use."

Dan shook hands with them both as informal induction, at which point Spock addressed him.

"I was going to ask you, Crow. Did you really take down Gottfried?"

His eyes widened as he recalled his bout with the First Wave Commander.

"For a second, I forgot all about that," he said. "Why don't we go check up in him?"

Spock, Old Roger, and Higgs seemed to welcome the idea, and so the four set off.

"We're going to check on Gottfried's body," announced Crow to the Liberation Front. "He's in the slaughterhouse area up that way. Anyone want to come?"

The eight of them conferred with their eyes.

"I think I'll stay," said Starseed, cheeks still wet. Adept, Axiom, Source, and Cazador made no move.

"I'll go with you," announced Dryad.

Druid also ventured to Crow's party, while Enigma and Polaris declined the offer. The sextet departed, following Crow and Spock all the way back to the site of Gottfried's body. Once there, they stopped, and Spock spoke first after a moment's observation.

"I thought you said you killed him, Crow."

"I did," replied Crow, equally concerned. "At least, I thought I did."

The gang stared at the puddle of mercury-infused blood where a body was supposed to be; their eyes traced the trail of silver-red specks and gobs that led down the hall, disappearing into the passageway.

But... I killed him...

"How the hell's he still alive?" asked Druid, scratching at his beard.

"I emptied my guns into him," said Crow. "But I guess that wasn't enough. He must have mustered the strength to make his escape once I left here."

Exactly how Gottfried did that while scored with bullet holes was another question entirely, he thought. He settled with the theory that figuratively and quite possibly literally, the Hybrid had balls of steel.

"What do we do?" asked Roger.

"Well, he couldn't have gotten far," said Dryad. "Should we go after him?"

He was going to offer a course of action, but everyone turned around upon hearing footsteps, inciting him to do the same. Entering the area was Enigma, who led a quartet of ZFT operatives to their position, Lenny among them; the Liberation Front members tensed.

Keane was immediately alarmed by Gottfried's absence.

"Gottfried's escaped!" he said.

Lenny halted, assessing the situation. "Hanley, Morrison, follow the trail and track him down," he commanded.

Two of the four ZFT agents broke formation, arming themselves.

"I'll go with them," offered Keane, and given Dan's blessing, he made after them.

Once the trio vanished around the corner, the two parties returned their attention to one another. Crow and Spock stood before Lenny and his partner, while the others were stationed on the sidelines.

"I've been told that you're in charge of this group," said Lenny. "Is that right?"

In his combat boots and black attire, Lenny certainly looked the part. He had a head of neat, dirty blonde hair, and his hazel eyes scrutinized the cap-wearing mean before him.

"That's right," said Dan. "I'm Crow. This here is Spock."

Lenny and his pal exchanged a perplexed glance, but quickly shrugged it off.

"Alright, Crow," resumed Lenny. "Listen closely. When your friend comes back, I suggest you gather your people and get going. We can handle things from here."

Crow felt as though he had been slapped in the face. "What do you mean, get going?" he asked in restrained indignation.

"Make no mistake. We're grateful for the assistance you've lent to us, but this is no place for civilians. I don't know how you get involved in all this, but this is a dangerous game, not one meant to be played by amateurs. You're better off leaving things to the professionals."

"Are you serious?" exclaimed Crow, too tired to control his disbelief. "You want us to just leave? We've come too far to back down now!"

"Do you know what you're up against?" asked Lenny, not too fond of Crow's tone. "Do you know what's at stake? This is bigger than you can possibly imagine. We do what we do so that people like you can still have lives to live. I wouldn't be so quick to throw that away, Crow."

"Oh, I know what's at stake," affirmed Dan. "But this concerns all of us. The Shapeshifters are threatening to destroy us all, and I'll be damned if I'm just going to sit around and do nothing it, civilian or not."

Lenny muffled a scoff. "You want to make a difference, is that right? How exactly do you plan on doing that? How much manpower do you have? How many resources do you have at your disposal? What do you think you know about the enemy? We're a global organization, Crow. Trained soldiers, all of us. And we've been fighting them for almost fifteen years. I'm afraid you'd be a small thorn in their side at best."

"We've only been operational for the past few months, I'll grant you that," admitted Dan. "And yeah, we're only about a dozen strong, and we're not pros. But that sure as hell didn't stop us. In the last six months, we've collectively made dozens of recon and raiding missions. We've infiltrated one of their lairs, and we blew up one of their Titan production sites. And tonight, we were going to dismantle the Yggdrasil Seed operation they have going here. I'd say that for mere civilians, that's pretty damn impressive."

Lenny and his associate exchanged a puzzled glance; the latter shrugged, and Lenny turned to address Crow once more.

"Yggdrasil?" he said. "Titans? What on Earth are you talking about?"

Dan's face went blank as he tried to process what Lenny just said.

"You've got to be kidding me," said Crow. "You don't know anything about the Harvesters or the Titans? The Second and Omega Waves? How can you not know about what's to come? They leave their super sensitive Intel lying around in file cabinets, for Christ's sake!"

"Intel?" asked Lenny, his interest suddenly heightened.

"Yeah. Intel. We found some of their Top Secret project documents in one of their underground hideouts. They leave them in unsecured places because they have no reason to expect someone to burst in there and take them. And you're telling that in fifteen years, you haven't once heard about the Harvesters or Titans? Yet you're going to turn around and bash us for our ignorance?"

"Since you know so much, I trust you also know about where the Shapeshifters come from?" inquired Lenny, not appreciating Crow's allegations. "Do you know who created them? What do you know of the Silent War, and what's really going on?"

Crow didn't answer; Lenny had him beat there. And all Spock could do was eye the ZFT men with wariness.

"No?" he continued in answer to Crow's silence. "I didn't think so." Lenny turned contemplative, pivoting his head to silently confer with his buddy. "Seems we're both missing parts of the story. I think we might have gotten off the wrong foot. So let's try again. You say you have Intel. We'd be interested in seeing what you've found."

"Why would we do that?" asked Crow. "So that you cast us aside once you've taken what you needed? I don't think so."

"We're not heartless opportunists, Crow. I was thinking that we could fill each other in on the blanks before we go off our separate ways."

Spock looked to his partner in crime as the rest of the Front roster continued to observe the scene with unease.

"...Why don't we join forces instead?" offered Dan after a moment, to everyone's surprise.

"An alliance?" said Lenny, intrigued.

"Yeah, an alliance. Gottfried told me that the Second Wave is already in progress, and that Harvesters are walking around as we speak. We're going to need as many willing people as we can get if we're going to defeat them."

Crow chose to refrain from sharing his concerns about associating with rogue scientists and bioterrorists, as Gottfried had described ZFT. But the opportunity was there. While he wasn't particularly fond of Lenny, there was no denying that joining forces might prove to be mutually beneficial.

"Well, you don't seem entirely over your heads," mused Lenny aloud. "And you faced off against Vincent Allen Gottfried and lived to tell about it. Perhaps you're made of stronger stuff than I gave you credit for. We could use someone like you on our side."

"Let's make things clear," said Crow. "We aren't joining ZFT. And you won't be joining the Liberation Front. We'll continue to operate as our own organizations. But we'll help each other out, keeping ourselves updated on our operations."

"I think we might be able to sort something out," agreed Lenny.

"Crow," said Spock, nudging his head aside.

"Give me a moment to talk things over with my crew," said Dan.

"Of course," said ZFT's head honcho.

Crow and Spock distanced themselves, and Druid, Dryad, Roger, and Higgs swiftly joined themselves to their caucus.

"They're look like sketchy folk to me," hushed Druid. "I'll back you up, Crow, but still, are we sure we can trust them?"

"Gottfried told me that they're a gang of bioterrorists," explained Dan. "They're probable knee-deep in shady activities. But he also told me the Harvesters are up and running. Time's running out, and I don't see many other choices."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?" said Dryad.

"Exactly," affirmed Crow. "Spock?"

"I'm with you on this," replied the goateed man. "I agree with Druid, though. We should be careful when dealing with these guys."

"No need to tell me twice. What about you two?"

"We'll go wherever you go, Mister Crow," said Roger, with Higgs nodding once to support him.

"So we're all on board, then," said Dan. "Great."

Bringing an end to their conference, the group returned to their prior positions, facing Lenny and Friend as they too finished their own conversation.

"Looks like it's settled," announced Crow.

"Glad to hear it," said Lenny.

The two were facing one another; when Crow approached, Lenny tensed, then looked down to see the man extend a hand, which Lenny accepted.

"Daniel Thompson," said Crow as they shook. "Co-founder of the Liberation Front."

"Leonard Dunham, Captain of Zeta Cell." They ended their handshake, and Lenny stepped back. "No time to waste, Thompson. We have a lot to cover."


XxXxXxXxXxX


A/N: At last, the curtain is pulled wide as we visit the masterminds behind Operation Ragnarok. I hope the first half of the chapter will give you plenty of food for thought.

And in the second half, we get plenty of bombshells. Gottfried is still alive and has escaped, while The Guy is dead. (Blue) Henry Higgins comes into the fold, and we are introduced to Leonard Dunham, brother to James Dunham and uncle to Olivia Dunham. And now ZFT and the Liberation Front have formed an alliance to tackle the Waves of Operation Ragnarok. Interesting things lie ahead for our beloved Spock and Crow.

So it is that The Coming War concludes. For those interested in getting insight into what PTS IV might have in store, I will be placing teasers and whatnot on my profile page; I will also update my profile to mark significant milestones in the planning and writing process of PTS IV. It will likely not come out for quite some time, but I can assure you that it will be worth the wait.

Well, hope you enjoyed the third of seven installments in this series. Four more remain, and it's only going to get wilder. And as always, any and all feedback is appreciated; feel free to leave reviews and comments if you have the time.

With that, I will take my leave. Love and Light, folks! ;)