"You see, I think deep down you get it …"
The echo's warm, orange glow dimly illuminated the decrepit room. It shined on the paint peeling off the walls, on the rusted handrail, and on Amherst's sallow corpse.
"You know the old rules; laws, government, those things died on Black Friday …"
Agent Ming could barely breathe as he scanned the room, listening to Keener. Everything was off. Everything was wrong. ISAC should have been blaring warnings about contamination. He should have found Gordon Amherst, alive, violently resisting apprehension. He should have found the virus printer. Above all else, he should have found catharsis.
The only thing he saw was an empty, poorly lit warehouse. The only thing he heard was Keener's message, menacing in its intimacy.
"... but you took an oath, right? You got a duty. Those are both easy ways of saying your conscience is fucking you."
Nausea crashed into the Agent. Shepard fell forward, his left hand's grip finding the handrail just in time to keep his face from hitting the cold concrete floor. Arthur pulled himself up, only to be overwhelmed again.
He could hear it - beneath the condescension, beneath the smug arrogance - he could hear Keener's plea, as if one more rogue was all it took to prove him right, to make sure a tragedy of this scale would never happen again. Ming lurched forward as he felt another bout of nausea, slamming into a steel countertop. The last of Keener's message echoed through the room.
"You should think about getting in on this thing. I'll be seeing you."
The agent opened his eyes, noticing a reflection in an adjacent mirror. Ming looked up.
Keener looked back.
"Hey! Hey! Wake up!"
Sheriff clamped Shepard's arms down as she yelled, hoping to restrain her colleague's fit. The convulsing continued unabated for several seconds, only ending when Shepard knocked his head into the door of the L-ATV. He went still at once, his eyes slowly opening up.
"You alright?" Agent Fields asked, grip still tight on Ming's arms. Still silent, Arthur slowly nodded, prompting Fields to finally let go.
"We'll be in Shenandoah by noon. The JTF managed to find a route through some backroads - fewer abandoned cars we'd have to bulldoze through," Sheriff updated, looking away as Shepard sat up straight in his seat. It was clear to her he needed a moment. Moving her gaze forward, Diana passed the agent her canteen. "Here, drink this." She felt the container snatched out of her hand. "I think you'll like what's inside."
Shepard savored the warm liquid as it flowed down his esophagus. Whatever it was, it may be the last he'd have for years. He looked over at the other agent, a growing smirk on his lips.
"Holy shit - was that coffee and Baileys?"
Adorning her customary frown Fields replied, "I thought you'd want to take the edge off the day." Ming shook his head before taking another swig and passing the canteen back.
"For the record, I was never a day drinker," Arthur smiled.
Sheriff scoffed, "Whatever you say. Okay, now, you want the sitrep? It's about time you're up to deal with it, considering this whole convoy was your idea."
Sheriff passed over a tablet, the fire and phoenix of the Strategic Homeland Division emblazoned on its case. Ming gave the touchscreen a few taps, pouring over the overnight reports.
"Look, let's just say none of us have had good luck with flying."
"I'm still not sold on this," Diana glared. Shepard kept his eyes glued to the screen.
"Do we have to get into this now? We've got the Secretary and we've got a desperately needed resupply. Let's argue once America's got a new President."
Fields could only scowl.
"In about 30 kilometers we'll need to hop out and scout on foot. JTF team has claimed something's up in that area." The other agent nodded, his eyes remaining glued to the screen. A moment of silence passed between them, the air remaining still and cold.
"This isn't right. We should be in the same vehicle as Secretary Walken." Arthur finally looked up at hearing Diana's complaint.
"You've got no argument from me on that one. JTF trusts us enough to go with the convoy proposal and have us to escort the Sec, but not enough for us to be in the same vehicle as her?"
Fields grimaced, "I think we both know why -"
"RPG!" someone screamed through radio, tearing out of the agents' headsets. Barely a second later, Fields could only stare in horror as the vehicle just in front of them erupted in a ball of sparks, smoke, and fire - shattered by an armor piercing warhead.
Ming ducked under the windows as the transport accelerated, crashing the burning wreck out of the way. Lead splattered and ricocheted off armor panels, red and green tracers darting from the bushes alongside the road into the convoy vehicles and anyone unfortunate enough to be caught riding outside.
The utility vehicle rushed forward, speed now of the essence. The RPG rendered them the lead vehicle. If they were disabled or stopped, the entire convoy would be destroyed. The grade of the mountain they found themselves stifled their movement, the engine now fighting the vehicle's very weight in its bid to survive.
"Hang on!" the driver yelled. "We're gunna -"
Fields and Ming slammed into the front seats. The driver wasn't so lucky, barreling through the windshield and right into an earthen wall that had halted their rush, making a sick crunch the agents could hear above the gunfire.
There was no time to lose - dazed and fighting through the pain ravaging his right shoulder, hip, and knee, Shepard shakily undid the door latch. Every second of delay inside the now inoperable vehicle brought them one closer to death. That they were no longer taking fire had no bearing on their priorities. Fields rushed out of the wreck, pulling Shepard along as she took cover behind a roadside boulder. The cacophony of war was only growing louder as she took her breath.
"- the hell?" she heard Ming whisper in awe.
Diana turned to follow her fellow agent's gaze, settling back on the wreck. A slab of earth, three meters tall and one deep, had brought about their abrupt halt. Exempting the section where a one ton vehicle and an unfortunate JTF logistician had slammed into it, all sides and surfaces were smoother than chiseled marble. In spite of the uneven distribution of soil, rock, and gravel, the structure seemed to have been perfectly crafted and materialized at just the right moment.
"You seein' this shit? This isn't right. There's no way …" his words died off in disbelief as he continued staring.
"Forget about that thing, we need to go!"
Shepard shook his head as he charged the chamber on his SCAR. There was no denying the more pressing matter. The next few minutes may well determine the survival of the American government.
Both agents rushed back down the road, striker drones and seeker mines in tow.