Chapter 9
A promise kept
July 6th, 1912
Raffle square
1225 hours
Zack's POV
Airship ride was short and surprisingly stable for such crude thruster technology. As soon as I could I jumped off onto the nearby roof of a large store and laid flat against it. From here I got a vantage point of the whole area, from the large park to the fair stalls. I brought out my DMR and used it's scope to get a quick look around the area where my helmet zoom can't reach. From what I'm seeing, my mission just got a hundred times more difficult. Found out what a vigor was if the stall by the stair case was anything to go by. Lightning from their finger tips, the ability to levitate people off the ground, fireballs, stuff ONI would have an absolute field day studying and trying to recreate. Makes me regret not picking up that bottle all those years ago. Who knows how it would have helped us on the battlefield against the Covenant. I can only assume Comstock will be sending people with these vigors after me the second he finds out I'm back. The advertisement for the murder of crows one looks familiar? Could that be what I fought against during my first attempt? Plausible. Next thing that caught my attention was a mechanical man. Only his head and heart were exposed, rest resembled a mechanical ape more than anything. Not looking forward to fighting him, I'd imagine it would be the same as fighting a Mgalekgolo. Basically a major pain in my ass from the beginning till the end. Mechanical horses not far from it, not threatening enough for me to worry. Last stall by a large gate was for something called a 'possession vigor' and they were handing out free samples. No idea what that will do, but I don't like the sounds of it. One thing I'm noticing, Caucasian seems like the most prominent skin tone around here, with an mostly african majority in the more menial labor positions. I let out a disgruntled huff. Early 1900's Spartan, civil right movement won't be around for another 50 years at least. One more reason to focus on my mission and get out ASAP.
Almost identical posters from earlier littered the area. Who ever this False Shepherd is, I almost pity them. . . . actually I can use this to my advantage. Far as I can tell around, the only way to identify the false shepherd is by a brand on their hand, more specifically the right hand if these posters are anything to go by. Extremely vague yet specific, no other details but the brand. All I'd have to do is knock an unsuspecting victim out, burn the brand into their hand and let these people's fear do the rest. It's cause a commotion, bring about panic when said victim fights back after being falsely accused, send their forces into a wind goose chase and away from my route for a little while. But the problem is it would be easy to cover up such a mark so no one asks questions, just a simple pair of gloves would work and won't be too hard to come across. If I'm not careful it could blow my cover, they might know I'm coming but they have no idea where I am or what I look like now. Biggest problem is that I have no means of creating such a brand right now. I can heat up my knife but it would take too long, a bleeding cut would be too noticeable and they'd know it's fake. There has to be something I can use. . . . well it looks like fate has tipped in my favor for a change.
Weaving his way though the crowd was just the distraction I needed. Older male, early to mid forties. No more than six foot two, old drunk of a hired gun if the outfit and facial stumbles were anything to go by. On his right had was the very mark that will send these people into a frenzy should any notice it. Surprised they haven't already, he isn't exactly trying to hide it. If he seen the posters and still refuses to hide it, then he is lacking in the common sense department. Like I didn't get enough of that earlier. I doubt I could get him to go along with my plan of using him as bait to lure them into a wild goose chase. But then again, who said I needed him to agree with it. He doesn't even need to be aware he will be playing the part of the goose perfectly. I can easily 'hitch a ride' from any of these airships to my destination, but the moment I do all eyes will be on me and I'd be shot down in a instant. If he can provide enough of a distraction to keep them off my ass, I doubt they'll notice a single airship veering off course under the ruse of reinforcing the tower's security. That could work, but it is heavily reliant on these people going for the bait.
The man seems to be chatting with the local vendor for the possession vigor, she is giving him one of the green bottles of a woman in a classic swoon position, he popped off the cap and is chugging it down like a marine with any form of alcohol. Weird, his fingers got a ghostly apparition of a little green woman floating about. He wastes no time flicking his hand toward the machine, making the gate open for him as well as dispense a hefty pile of silver coins. Perhaps that could be useful, maybe I'll swipe one for ONI to look at later. On the other side of the door was the same man and woman who brought me back, only this time with a chalk board on the man like an apron. With nearly all the tallies on the heads, weirdly only one tally was on the tails, and that was the one he flipped. I've seen enough for now, time to move.
I got up and got moving. Putting my DMR on my back as I looked around for more vantage points. Clock tower beginning to float this way would work, I might be able to make it. Only about ten meter jump. I just have to wait. . . for . . . the right. . . NOW! I took off running and jumped with all my might, unsheathed my knife and stabbed it into the brick work of the tower to stop myself from falling. As soon as I could I grabbed onto what ever I could and began climbing up, eventually making it to the top by the clock face in under a minute. I crouched down once more with the barrel of my DMR sticking out over the railing. From here I got a good vantage point of not only the fair stalls, but what I assume is the raffle area itself, with some obvious pompous asshole trying to work up the crowed with an really old song from the 1940's, 'Good night Irene' I think it was. At least that is a majority of the lyrics I can hear from here. Longer I am here the more questions I get than answers. My unsuspecting goose walked right into the middle of the group of people by the raffle as a young woman hands him a ball. It has the number 77 on it. That is strange, what kind of raffle uses baseballs instead of tickets? It would be more cost effective and efficient to use tickets instead. Sure baseballs are reusable but it still makes no sense. Too much is not adding up, and I seriously hope it isn't for what I think it is for. The asshole called for the same woman to return on stage calling her 'the prettiest white girl in all of Columbia'. Rather specific and a little bit racist if I am not mistaken. He pulled a random number out of said bowl. Surprise, surprise, it's number 77.A random woman is pointing to my goose as he is trying not to make himself known. The man then congratulates my goose and says he won the raffle which was. . . . dammit I hate being right all the time.
The curtains pulled up reviling a tied up interracial couple, and by far the most racist background props I've ever seen anywhere. Looks like my goose has won the first throw at stoning these two poor souls to death. I had my cross hairs right between the top hat guy's eyes as he made a stupid joke, my trigger finger itching to take him out right here and now. This place sickens me to my core, farther increasing my desire to get Elizabeth as far away from these people before it's too late. Who knows what types of indoctrinate methods these people thrown at her in the past 7 years. Back home, I can count with one hand exactly how many people I've meet that even cared about the color of one's skin. All of which were people I was sent to kill for completely unrelated reasons.
My goose was about to throw the ball right back at the announcer when a cop grabbed his arm and pointed out the brand to everyone. The announcer in turn solidified the claim that he was the false shepherd, and another cop brought a skyhook. Trigger finger itched something fierce as the blades began to spin. I can take out the announcer right now but that would leave little time for my goose or the couple to escape. A part of me reminded myself a promise I made, all those years ago when I joined Beta company. That I would do whatever it took to protect those who can't protect themselves. So no one else ends up like me. Damn it, Going to be a tough fight to Elizabeth.
I turned my crosshair to the cop with the skyhook and pulled the trigger. A soft crack echoed though out the area as my round tore though his head, splattering his brain matter all over the stage. The crowed went to shock as I changed targets and fired at the other cop holding my goose. Head shot as well, sending the crowd into disarray, forcing the announcer to bolt, I turned my scope to the couple's binds I can see from this angle, two quick shots freed them from the poles, letting them run like hell the other way from everyone else. I fired more shots at random armed targets, trying to give my unsuspecting goose the time he needs to regain his wit and fight back just as my DMR clicked empty, people screamed down below and yelling how the Vox are attacking, my goose picked up the skyhook as he bolted for the gate. 15 rounds used up in that to free my goose and that couple, 13 targets left with a nasty hole in their bodies. Six mags left, 60 rounds left all together for my primary weapon, I'm going to have to make them count. Three police showed up with pistols and bludgeons, as well as an airship with a auto-turret and soldiers rounding around the corner and heading for my position. He should be able to handle that on his own. Time for him to do his unknowing job. I changed mags and put the empty one in my side pouch, never throw away good mags if I can help it.
I vaulted over the edge and fired off my grappling hook toward the airship. It latched onto the side as I began to reel myself in. The forward turret opened fire just as I grabbed a hold of the railing. Primitive pistol rounds buzzed by me as I used my momentum to kick someone off the airship and into the abyss below the clouds. The turret turned to me as I ducked under the barrel of the automatic, using my superior strength to force the turret to turn and fire at the remaining soldiers on the airship, then ripped the gun away from the turret as the last one fell. Targets neutralized, thirty seconds from first contact to now. Sloppy work Spartan, you killed twice as many Innies in less time.
The whole vessel jolted to a sharp plummet downward, I turned to see the pilot's dead body on top of the steering wheel, pushing it forward so the vessel goes down. I took off running and jumped off the descending airship, rolling across the ground of a nearby island just as the ship collided with the clock tower I was perched at earlier, going up in a fireball somehow. I will never understand the physics of this place, nor do I want to.
I sprang up and fired off three consecutive shots just as three heavy cloth armor clad soldiers rounded the corner of a candy store, only to find a brand new hole in their heads just before they dropped to the ground. Much better. I went over to the bodies and looted them of their rifle and ammo, scavenged little under a hundred primitive 45 APC rounds plus a fancier looking skyhook then I remember. Got to save my FMJ ammo for bigger fish, can't waste it on everything in my path. This rather simple automatic will do just fine for the time being. I pulled the bolt back and chambered in a fresh mag. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before I bolted down the street and toward the nearest skyline. Hopefully my goose is doing his job and keeping a majority of their forces off my back. I don't care how he does it, so long as he keeps their attention long enough for me to make it to Elizabeth.
(Booker's POV)
Of all the things I was expecting today, having my but saved by a mysterious sniper with inhuman accuracy was not on the list. That and finding out I was this place's version of the Anti-Christ. I took a deep breath as I rushed into some restaurant and slammed the door behind me. Hasn't even been a full hour and I found myself neck deep in a rapidly growing shit storm. I reloaded the pistol I 'acquired' from one of the dead cops as I began to walk farther into the restaurant. By the bar were the two from earlier. One casually cleaning the bar top while the girl stood by the kitchen doors.
"We seem to have company" The man said.
"We do indeed." The woman said casually.
"Why are you following me?" I asked pointing my gun toward the two. I have no idea who these two are, what they want with me, or why they keep popping up everywhere.
"We were already here." The woman replied.
"Why are YOU following US." The man replied as well. Well . . . shit he has a point. I got nothing. Since they seem to always be a step ahead of me, literally. I waved them off and began searching around the restaurant for anything of use. Medical supplies, ammo, a drink. Anything useful that might keep me alive a little while longer.
"You know you really shouldn't be wasting time like this. More time you spend here, the farther the Spartan gets, and the harder your job becomes." The woman said. I stopped rummaging though the cash register and looked up at her. "I believe you got a glimpse of him already. Pitch black armor, blue accents, perched up by the clock tower if I saw correctly. Has rather brutish mannerisms if I must say so."
"Perhaps he doesn't know any other way to behave. After all, he's been fighting a brutal war for survival since he was twelve years old." The man answered.
"Fair point. But that is still no excuse to be pointing gun at people for no reason." The woman replied. Okay, time for answers. My patience has already worn thin around these two.
"What is this Spartan? Why is he helping me? I didn't even ask for help." I asked.
"He really isn't helping you per say. In fact he is using you to keep Comstock's attention away from him. He has no idea he's suppose to be helping you, you both just happen to have a similar goal." The woman answered.
"To be fair, what has happened was going to happen anyway. He just capitalized on the opportunity and is using it to get to Elizabeth relativity unopposed compared to the first time he tried. If I am not mistaken, he should almost be there by now. You may want to hurry or you'll be the one on a wild goose chase rather than being the goose." The man answered
"As for what he is. . . let's just say he is someone who tried to break Elizabeth free once before, but failed due to forces well outside his control. Someone you do NOT want to be on bad terms with." The woman answered holding up a vile of orange liquid. "You may want to drink this to be on somewhat even terms with him. At least to keep up with him in terms of durability." I trust these two about as far as I can throw them, but if that glass does what they say it does, it could be useful. I took the vile and downed the entire thing. Tasted like cheap soda as my entire body began to feel tingly. I look down at my hands to see a thin yellow field forming around my skin.
"Surprising." The woman said.
"Surprising that it worked?" The man said.
"Surprising that it didn't kill him." She said. If looks could kill, the glare I gave this woman would have be it.
"True, but a magnetic repulsion field around ones body would act quite similar to the Spartan's energy shields, or as close as we can replicate. Certainly would be useful in the near future." The man answered.
"If it doesn't kill you first." The woman said.
"A fair point." The man answered. I'm out of here, these two are beginning to give me a headache. I turned around after walking though the kitchen to see the two were gone, any trace of them being there left. Even the bar rag was gone, as well as all the booze. You bastards.
"What have I getting myself into?" I asked no one as I began to make my way out to Columbia. Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like this Spartan when ever I do meet him? They say he has a similar goal. What does he want with the girl anyway? What about her makes her so important that someone hired me and some mystery child soldier to get her out? There better be some answers at Monument Island. Because this job is making less and less sense the longer it goes on.
Zack's POV
1311 hours
I jumped down from the skyline and landed on some type of junction station as several skylines go though here. A rather large amount of cargo freight was in my way both tracks, no way though that, going to have to go around. So far my unknowing goose has been doing his job perfectly, I've faced very little resistance up until this point. No more than ten, maybe twelve soldiers on their way to reinforce their friends. They seem to be blocking all skyline routes to the Island. I assume as a precaution so no one tries the easy way to get to Elizabeth. If the mission were that easy, I would have succeeded the first time around. I shouldered my automatic as I searched the junction house, there has to be another way. A rather large blip showed up on my motion tracker. I activated my camo and rushed to a dark corner just as a flattop gunship came into view, nearly perfectly level with the platform below me. Per usual, a new batch of three idiots exited the airship and jumped to the platform.
"Tell me again why we're suppose to guard this random junction house? I seriously doubt the False Shepherd is even going to make it this far. Not with that Zeppelin on his tail." A rather fat one said leaning against the side of the building.
"You heard the Prophet. There is a great evil that is suppose to come this way. Our job is to shoot it out of the sky as they come around that bend. That is why they kept these containers here, to force them to stop and face us. We got the advantage of setting up and this whole line is one way. They have to go though us to get to Monument Island. I don't know about you, I feel pretty good about my odds." The short one answered giving the third one in the airship a thumbs up. So their Prophet knew I was going this way. Right route but his timing was a bit off, either that or these idiots screwed around too much and 'just missed me'. The airship began to slowly pull away as the two idiots began setting up some type of Vickers machine gun tripod. I waited just as the gunship was at level with me to bolt. I jumped from the platform and onto the side of the ship just as it passed by me. I rolled across the deck and made a dash for cover behind the a crate as the pilot looked out the side to see what was wrong.
"What was that?" He yelled looking out the side window. He pulled some type of lever as the ship began flying in a straight line at low speed. He opened the door to the cabin and looked around. I pulled out my knife and slowly began to creep up behind him as he walked to where the other two idiots were. Before he could get a word off I wrapped slit open his throat with a single fluid motion. I pushed him overboard and made a mad dash for the control cabin. The door was thrown open as I ran to controls, quickly stabilizing the ship before it suffered the same fate as the last one.
I took a deep breath and spun the wheel, making the gunship face toward the angle statue. Okay, if memory serves correctly, there should be a docking port for this thing on the 'island' somewhere around the front face. Got to be smart about this Zack, got to think this though carefully this time. I got a better view of the city layout as well as a better understanding on how my enemy operates now. I can formulate a plan around what I know now.
Main Objectives:
~Go to the Island.
~Kill all who are brave/stupid enough to get between Elizabeth and myself.
~Break Elizabeth out of her prison by any means.
~Find a way out of this racist hellhole of a city and a way home before it's too late.
Secondary Objectives:
~Collect some of these 'vigors' for ONI to study.
~Put a bullet in Comstock's head.
Good objectives to keep me motivated. May be loose and vague but it leaves a lot of room to adjust in case of error. Something I found happens quite often. I expect my EVAC prowler to be in one piece only for the Covenant to have already destroyed it, forcing me to steal their corvette in retaliation. . .focus Spartan. Get Elizabeth out of here first, top priority, and why is there a weird portable phonograph right beside the controls. I picked it up and gave it a quick look over. Looks like a regular record from the early 1900's, larger hold in the middle from what I've seen, device itself looked like a speaker with a needle to play the record. Record has a label around the center by the large hole. 'September 29th 1904. Project Hoplite recording 01: Conscription' it read. I am not liking the sound of that already, it was made days after I left here. I seriously hope it isn't what I think it is. I pushed the play button as it gave a short thump before playing.
"Project Hoplite recording one. Over the course of the last ten hours, fifty two children all together were collected out of the seventy we were suppose to get. Most of which was because of how difficult it would be to get them unnoticed while shifting the blame to the Vox. While initially disappointment in our results, Our Prophet was willing to make an exception due to the secrecy of this project and how critical it was. So the children we collected will have to do unless we want to risk exposure on a second run collecting the rest. When I asked our Prophet why he wanted us to take them. He simply replied that they will be Columbia's swords and shields from not only the Vox Populi or the False shepherd, but the Demon more so than anyone else. For he has foreseen his return to our fair city, being stronger and deadlier than before. Leaving untold amounts of destruction in his wake. We can't inform the public about this or it will cause mass panic. These children were carefully screened and hand picked by our Prophet himself. With the youngest being a mere five years old, seven at the oldest. I asked why we're training them so young. He said it would be easier and more efficient this way, and to insure that their loyalty remains with Columbia alone. In a way, I suppose it makes sense." A weary female voice echoed though the speakers. My blood ran cold as this all sounded way to familiar to me. Didn't Kurt say that his brothers and sisters were abducted and forced into extreme military training for a similar reason? This does not sound good at all. "From time to time I caught him reading a book. One titled 'The fall of Reach'. I don't know where or how he got it, or even what it is about. But I know it isn't from any author from Columbia or from the Sodom below. I'd certainly remember a author named Eric Nylund. My mother is a Librarian, she has never heard of it either. I can't say where we brought the children for their training and in doctrine. Fink's men are already hard at work figuring out the Hoplite's armor and weapons known as Projects Aspis and Xiphos. I don't know much about either, I am just in charge of collecting the kids. So far he has told us we have at most seven years to prepare them. Seven years to turn a bunch of weak children into the deadliest warriors than humanity has ever seen if we want Columbia to survive. For a change, I hope that our prophet is wrong and just being overly paranoid. Because I don't want to think of the bloodshed that will happen if he is right. This is Esther Mailer, signing off."
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I approached the Island docking port. This is not good, sounds like Comstock has tried to make his own version of the Spartan Project. I have to assume it was a complete success and that I have at least fifty children trained to be perfect killing machines for the past seven years after my ass. I also have to assume that they are at least on par with myself in terms of training and possibly equipment if they figured something similar out. Not even factoring these 'vigors' or what ever else this place has pulled out of it's ass. I am in for one hell of a fight. I pulled the airship to port and put it what I assume is park. I reach into my pack and pull out two canisters of C7; if I am indeed being pursued by people trained just like me, I'm leaving them a little surprise to hopefully take care of a few of them. I won't be using this route to escape again. Not when I potentially got a platoon of these 'Hoplites' on my ass. I have to assume the worst and prepare accordingly. This will at least buy me some time and alert me that someone is one my six. Only downside, it will let everyone know that something is wrong on this island. If it takes some of these major threats out, worth it. I got superior stealth, I can sneak out easier against a large army of idiots than a handful of highly trained killers. Twelve C7canisters left, still got all my C10, four remote detonation devices, four timers, and three proximity detectors for all my explosives. Worst case scenario, I rig myself up to take out a large portion of this shit-hole of a city with me if they manage to overwhelm me again. I will not fail this time, I won't get a third try.
I ripped the panel open and put the canister under the control panel, let loose the foaming explosive. The semi-solid resin expanded and filled the left side under cabin, doing the same with the other one on the other side. Carefully I hooked up a proximity detector to it, rigging this whole ship into a makeshift IED. If it detects movement in this cabin once I leave, it will detonate and take a good chunk of the dock with it. Little bit overkill but I am working with that I got. I pushed the central button putting the proximity detector on a timer, linking it to my HUD. Thirty seconds until it activates. Plenty of time to get out and make it look like I was never here. I put the panel back on and got out of the cabin, carefully closed the door, leaving behind a primitive pistol laying on the ground to encourage someone to snoop around it for clues, as well as a few silver coins as added incentive.
I jumped off the airship and made a dash for the large double door. Nothing on my motion tracker. I carefully opened it and did a quick sweep of the courtyard up to the large iron gate. So far nothing, the light on my HUD flashed green. Indicating that the explosives were armed and ready. Perfect. Now my six is covered with a trap. Going to be hell figuring out how we're going to get out of here. But I'll think of something soon. I have to, for Elizabeth's sake. I raised my foot and kicked the iron gate, didn't even budge. Last time Elizabeth picked the lock, I do not have that kind of time right now so time for plan B. I took a few steps back and looked up to the guard tower. There was a freight hook not far from it on the other side. I took out my skyhook and pressed the trigger, it tugged at my arm as I was thrown from my position toward the skyhook with it hooking onto the freight hook. I pushed forward and let go of the trigger, rolling into my landing as I made a mad dash for the doors to the tower. Flattening myself against the wall as I listen on the inside. Just a weird humming sound but no voices or any sound of life inside. I opened the door with the barrel of my rifle going in first.
Inside was an absolute mess. Lab coats and all sorts of trash littered the floor as if someone got out in a hurry. All sorts of signs warning that 'the specimen is dangerous' and quarantine time past a certain point. Why did I even think that these assholes were going to keep their end of the deal? Focus Zack, you're here now, focus on getting her out of here. I walked though the area and past the second set of doors. Rifle at the ready for the worst. Next room was cackling with overloaded electrical energy, a chart showed Elizabeth's growth progression over the years, some type of betting pool board for the 'Vox Populi crime list' on the far wall. Some things never change no matter what time you are in, people gambling on stupid shit is one of them. A couple of early WW2 German concussion grenades with fragmentation sleeves, with blueprints beside it detailing the insides. Strange, why keep something like that here? I picked up a few and hooked them to my belt. Never know when they might come in handy. Once again, the universe gives me something I might need for seemingly no reason. I'm a little suspicious, the universe never gives me anything out of the kindness of it's heart. Everything I find I'm about to use in the next five minutes. Sign saying there is now a 72 hour quarantine by the chief scientist Lutece. I'm thinking that these Lutece people might be a common last name or one of my possible ancestors. I'm seriously hoping for the former. The odds of a last name going over 600 years with little change is slim, especially with potentially tens or hundreds of thousand different people with a similar last name over the same course of time. Like Smith, I meet lord knows how many hundreds of Marines with that last name yet they all swear they are not related.
In the next room confused me something fierce. A large collection of Tesla coils littered an area around something called a 'Siphon Passive'. Lightning cackling between them enough to scream safety hazard to me. Three levers were before me, each one marked based on age progression. 'Age 4, companionship' with a stuffed brown bare. Pulling the lever it cackled with energy before the bare changed to red. Weird but it makes sense to a degree if I understand what is going on. 'Age 11, poetry book' with a green box that turned red with the same process, that is beginning to get strange and creepy. and 'Age 13, Menarche' with a bloody strip of cloth that turned clean with the same process . . . not even going to think anything about that one. Even if it is a natural bodily function for the female gender, still wrong to collect something like that for some sick purpose. It looks like this weird device changes these things to different variants of the same item. Memory serves, it has to due with her 'tears' I think. Windows to other worlds as she called it.
I continued farther down passing by what I remember was the medical lab, film storage, and dark room. Not even going to go into those places again, I already know what is in there. I go in again, I'm just going to piss myself off and farther compromise my emotional integrity. I kicked down the next door and found myself shell shocked at the sight before me. Even more Tesla coils but this time several speakers around the area. Beams of energy wrapped around the room and flowed between the coils. The unmistakable sound of Elizabeth's singing echoed though out the room as some type of blue liquid swished around in the container over the 'siphon' as these people are calling it, but a siphon for what? What could this possibly be siphoning from? Elizabeth? This is all making less and less sense the longer I am here. I took a deep breath and found myself smiling under my helmet. It's been so long since I heard that voice outside my dreams. Almost nostalgic in a way. I closed my eyes and let her voice fill my memory once more, I can still see us dancing in her library, she is even humming the same tune we danced to. Brings back good memories, memories of the last time I was actually happy. I opened my eyes and shook my head, focus Spartan. FOCUS. You need to get Elizabeth out of here. Take a trip down memory lane once your asses are on solid ground and as far from this racist rat hole as possible. Preferably not even on the same planet.
I walked into to the elevator and slammed my fist on the button. The doors closed as the whole thing slowly began it's climb up. Ah yes, I remember this death trap. Lot cleaner in here than I remember, less bullet holes in the back wall. Different music was playing than before. I think the tune was Linkin Park 'one more light'. I am finding myself humming it as I slowly travel up the elevator shaft. A red light on my HUD blinked rapidly indicating I got a second to prepare myself. I quickly held onto the sides of the elevator and braced myself just as a loud explosion rippled though the air, shaking the entire island with the lights flickering and sparking briefly as the whole place seemed to stabilize itself after a short few seconds of rumbling. That feeling and sound never gets old. My favorite part of being a Headhunter, blowing shit up. It seems like my trap worked perfectly, it definitely got something in that blast. Not even ten minutes after I set it up, confirming I got someone on my trail or at least coming this way. Who ever they are, they sure got the surprise of a lifetime.
Booker's POV
"SHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!" I screamed I was blasted though a set of iron gates and slammed into a stone statue hard enough to make it crumble with my shields completely shattering on impact. How the fuck am I even still alive?! I fight my way though a entire battalion of soldiers as well as a zeppelin nearly killing me, somehow made it to monument Island, go to loot a parked airship for it's ammo and money; Only for it to explode in a enormous orange and white fireball, sent me flying though the front doors as well as a heavy locked gate, and into an angle statue that is now destroyed beyond any hope of repair. Were it not for the shields that the twins gave me, I would be in at least a hundred different pieces all over the place and a nasty red stain on the grass. Feels like I was spit out by an angry volcano from the deepest bowels of hell's ass crack, ears were still ringing as my entire body ached something fierce, vision slowly returning to me but so far it is a big blur. I groaned in agony as I picked myself up from the destroyed statue and looked back at the carnage as everything slowly got less fuzzy. The entire front half of the island is just . . . gone. Skyline was warped, twisted, and melted from the blast, near by station and island was deeply scarred and crumbling to the ground. Guess I ain't going that way to get out. I coughed up a plume of smoke trying to figure out what just happened as my head was swimming in agony.
"Well, it seems that the Spartan is a lot more creative and destructive than we originally gave him credit for. My word that was an impressive fireball, all from two small canisters no bigger than a can of coffee." A male voice slowly started to sound familiar. I looked behind me to find the twins from earlier on either side of the statue looking at the destruction with what I can only assume is shock and surprise. I didn't even think they could make any other expression aside from neutral and bored.
"Worst part is, that was just a fraction of his explosives. I'll give him credit where it is due, he certainly knows how to cover his back. I think even Lady Comstock felt that blast from her grave." The female said as I looked to the two with a death glare once more. These two are seriously getting on my nerves. How did they even get here and survive a blast like that unscathed. Better yet, what else are they either not telling me about my supposed 'help'. Because so far it looks like he's doing everything but. Nearly blowing someone your suppose to help to kingdom come doesn't exactly scream friendly.
"Perhaps we should've informed Booker that the Spartan has a particular soft spot for high explosives and does not hesitate to use them as he sees fit." The man asked. Oh really now, I never would have guessed. My ribs and back figured that out all on their own.
"Regardless, I think he's figured that out now. Even if he wasn't the intended target. I pity the poor fool who angers him enough to use the larger yield ones." The woman answered.
"Please tell me I'm dead and this is hell. Because I'm not sure I can take much more of this." I asked groaning in pain as I managed to take a few steps forward. Ouch my everything hurts.
"No, not yet. You still got some time left in you it seems." The woman answered plainly.
"Don't have any hard feelings. He didn't mean for you to be the one caught in the blast. Just anyone he thought was on his tail that might cause him trouble." The man answered. My head went to my hand as I groaned in pure agony. Once again, this job is up there as suicidal. I look back up to find the twins gone once more. I seriously hate it when they do that.
"Alright Booker. Just go in, get the girl, strangle this Spartan, and get out before you're caught in another fireball like that." I told myself hobbling to the front door. There has to be a medkit inside, or something I can use to patch myself up.
Zack's POV
The elevator dinged and opened as I walked out into a small room I remember that they used to observe Elizabeth. Chair still there with a note pad and everything. I turned back to the elevator with an idea in mind. Memory serves, this elevator is the only way up or down. I chuckled wickedly as I got to work setting up a new surprise. I tied up the stick grenades to the roof of the room by the elevator, running a string from the fuse to the elevator doors, setting it all up so these grenades fall and go off once the doors open again. Once again to provide me with a early warning when someone comes up this elevator. Crude but it will work. Satisfied at my work, I turned my attention to the blast doors before me. I pulled the lever and they opened up, relieving Elizabeth's bedroom. Exactly how I remembered it, only the window was reinforced heavily with steel wire in the glass. Clever bastards. Breaking a window and getting her out that way is a no go. Why did I think it would be this easy? I turned and walked down the steel hall to a panel on the wall labeled 'specimen tracker'. Comstock didn't keep his side of the deal in any sense of the word. I sighed as I pushed the button. A light beside 'Dressing room' light up. Guess that means Elizabeth is there. I hope she is at least dressed right now.
I opened up the door and looked around the room of the large steel shell. Still how I remember it. I walked though the next set of doors down the hall. Same set up as before, only with one window. Cautiously I pulled the lever. Opening up the blast doors, and relieving a sight I was yearning for the past seven years. Before me, on the other side of reinforced sixty millimeter bulletproof one way glass, was Elizabeth. Older then when I last saw her, taller by at least half a meter, breasts more noticeably developed, her hair was done up in a ponytail, elegant white shirt and blue skirt, around her neck was a pair of worn dog tags. . . MY dog tags. She held my tags in her hand, looking at them sadly running her thumb over the stamped metal. My chest tightened up and my heart stopped for a second. She hasn't forgotten about me, not even after all this time. Apart of me was screaming at me to break through the window and give her a hug, another part was telling me to keep going for an easier way in.
"Elizabeth" I called out softly, placing my hand on the window as she looked up for a second, reaching over to the side of the 'mirror' and pulling a curtain over it blocking the view as I heard her run out of the room now. That a girl Elizabeth, putting blankets up over the 'mirrors' to limit that information they can as well as give her privacy when she wants it. I smiled to myself as I began walking to the next room. So close Spartan, find a way in and get her the hell out of here.
I kept a close eye on my motion tracker as I walked to the next room. Only thing I am picking up is Elizabeth. Same as the last two rooms, I walked in and opened the blast doors. This time it was in her art studio, or what I always assumed was her art studio. Several paintings littered the area, some old I recognize, some new. One showed the Pillar Of Autumn floating lazily though space as it headed toward a large and barely illuminated Ring. Another looked a lot like Cole's Last stand. Elizabeth walked into the room, under her arm was a new painting. Looked like the Master Chief from this angle, the armor matched with the 117 number on the breastplate, but I don't recall him having a grappling hook on his forearm. She set it down and took a deep breath, reaching her hands forward she looked like she was grabbing the air, a familiar tear began for form between her fingers as she opened it wider and wider, struggling the whole time.
"Come on Elizabeth, you can do it." I encouraged knowing she can't hear me. She threw her hand out as the portal opened wide open, reveling a sort of storage room. In it was a wide variety of objects and paintings, even one I remember that one all too well. It was the most time I had to sit still without some form of a goal to keep me busy while playing the fun game of 'Question and that's classified'. It was more worn now, paint long past settled with the canvas a little torn around the frame. She smiled as she picked up the new paintings and put them with the others. Looks like she has her own pocket dimension or something like it. She closed the portal just as quickly as she opened it, walking out of the room satisfied with herself.
If I know her by now, she's going to the library to look out . . . . wait a minute. The door! The big vault door in the library. Memory serves, it opens from the outside. That is how I can get her out! The stairway should be around here somewhere. I ran out of the room and looked around and with my head turning like a groundhog. It has to be here somewhere. They still need to restock her kitchen and get her new books. I ran though the airlock like door of another room to the white walls going up a ramp. Jackpot, found it. I bolted up the stairs and nearly collided with the wall as I ran my near top speed to find the vault door. . . only to be wanting to bash my head against the wall when I find said door. Of course they changed it out with a new one. Why wouldn't they. Of all the things they changed in this prison, the one door keeping her in was it. It looked thicker than I remember, the steel stronger than I remember it looking. Only a lone keyhole on this side of the door was all that looked to open it. This thing was not going to open any time soon. Dammit why did I think it would be this easy.
"Son of a BITCH!" I swore slamming my fist against the door with all my might. Denting it with a loud resounding bang echoing though out the walls of this cured prison. I rest my head on my fist as I started going though alternative means of escape. So close Spartan, I am so close to getting her out of there. I just have to think. There has to be another way out. Windows are heavily reinforced so breaking one and getting her out that way is out, main door is locked and I don't have a key or a pick.
"Hello? Someone out there?" A grainy, almost angelic voice called out though some sort of speaker. I raised my head and looked toward the voice. On the wall to my left was a call box of some sort embedded in the wall. I don't remember that being there. Must have installed it some time after I left. "Whoever you are, please leave me alone. I don't want to answer any more questions or do anymore tests." She said. I reached down and pushed the big red button before I even realized it.
"It's me Elizabeth." I said speaking into the intercom as I let go of the button. First words I say to her in over seven years.
"Zack . . . Zack is that really you?" She asked, almost desperately.
"The same kid who's back you patched up and nursed back to health seven years ago." I answered.
"I don't understand. If you're Zack, how are you back?" She asked.
"I'll explain later, right now I need to get you out of there." I answered letting go of the button looked back at the door once again. There has to be another way to get in. Something I am missing. Maybe they left a key down stairs I missed. . . wait a second. I don't need a key, I got a satchel full of universal ones. I leaned down and pushed the button once more. "I'm coming in my way. Make sure you away from the door. Coming in loud." I ordered letting go of the button and reached into my satchel for a cube of C10. I only need one cube, it should be more than enough. C7 will take out this side of the tower. C10 should be enough to breach the door without too much damage to anything else. I put it in adhesive sleeve and stick it by where I think the hinges would be. Pulling out a remote detonator I set it up as quickly as I could and linked the detonator to my HUD. Once the light blinked green I went back to the intercom and pushed the button. "Elizabeth, I need you to listen very carefully and do exactly as I say. Get away from the door and behind something solid, the thicker the better. Cover your ears and brace yourself for the worst. Breaching in T-15 seconds." I ordered going down the ramp and around the corner so I'm not caught in the blast counting down in my head. I know Elizabeth will listen to me. I heard my trap from earlier going off with some gruff sounding male swearing up a storm from my little surprise. It's now or never Spartan. I took a deep breath as I got to one, then pushed the button on the detonator.
Elizabeth's POV
Zack's back! I don't know how but he's back! I'd recognize his voice anywhere. I was currently hiding on top of the stair case and ducked down under the rather thick banister to make myself as small as possible. It's away from the door and at a large off angle so unless Murphy's law decides to take effect, I should be safe up here from what ever he is planing on doing with the door. I had a gut feeling he came back. I know he had something to do with this whole island shaking not even a full twenty minutes ago. I just can't believe he came back for me. After all these years I thought he completely forgot about me with his war, or perished in it. All those nightmares of him being ripped apart and eaten by large apes, nailed though the head by several thin trails of plasma. I'm glad it was just nightmares. I wonder what he looks like after all this time. All though I am curious how he plans on getting in here, and why he wanted me behind something thick. . .
No sooner did the thought pass though my head, a loud bang echoed through out the entire tower. The door burst into flames and smoke as it was violently thrown off the wall, flying across the room and smashing it's way into the dinning room, resting sideways in the wall. The force of the blast was enough to send books flying everywhere off their shelves, several of which nearly hit me. I yelled in surprise and began to cough as the smoke littered the area, a single book fell down from the mess that managed to hit me. Hitting me in the head and dropping to the floor beside me. Ghosts of Onyx, same book Songbird gave me when Zack arrived. I reached out and grabbed the book as I picked myself up. Coughing hard as the smoke began to dissipate from the room, the ringing in my hears slowly beginning to subside and is replaced by loud blaring alarms.
Heavy foot steps echoed though out the room as my hearing slowly returned to me. Out of the smoke came a large armored black figure, a large rifle was on his back and a satchel on his side with a familiar pistol, a golden visor glared in the afternoon sun as he looked my way, what stuck out the most was the gray cage over a blue bird. I couldn't believe my eyes. I walked down the stairs until I was basically right in front of him. He completely towered over me by a entire foot and a half. I am at best 5 foot four, He is nearing seven foot easily. This can't be him. . . can it?
"Are . . are you really. . . .?" I asked trying to find the words to say, extending a shaking hand, putting it on the emblem painted on the chest plate. He's real, I can feel the cold metal of his armor. His hand softly went over mine, I can feel the warm hand under the armored glove trying to reassure me I wasn't dreaming. I looked up into as his visor's golden color vanished. Reviling a dulled pair of green eyes I never thought I'd see again. "Zack." I said pulling him into a hug. He said nothing as he wrapped his arm around me, almost like he was unsure what to do. "But. . . . how. . . how are you here?" I asked.
"I made you a promise Elizabeth, now didn't I." He finally said, voice a lot more graveled and deeper than I remember. "And when a Spartan makes a promise, we bend heaven and hell to keep it." I wrapped him in a tighter hug as he softly pat my back, seven years I waited to be with my best friend again. Feels like it was a lifetime ago since I was last in his arms like this. I wonder. . . I wonder if he remembers the kiss."It's good to see you too Elizabeth." He said happily as we simply stood their in one an other's embrace, completely forgetting about the world around us, ignoring the blaring alarms, I'm even ignoring the statue of Comstock whistling it's tune. All that matters right now is that we're together again. . . . wait a second. All color drained from me as we both heard the unmistakable screech of my warden.
Chapter 9 is done. Now the main pairing begins their run down the Infinite gauntlet. I had that entrance for their reunion in mind for a while. Just about every complete Bioshock fanfic I read involving Elizabeth and an OC for the most part seems to be a generic retelling of the game. I wanted to shatter that to effectively put this apart from the main story. It will not be a generic retelling of the game, as you already guessed. Elements from the Halo universe have leaked into Columbia, but how much I won't say for now. Let's just say that while Columbia may now have it's own version of the Spartans, we'll see how well they stack up to a Headhunter in future chapters. Debating on how long to keep Booker just on Zack's heels but always just missing him. For the Halo books showing up in Columbia, I will say they will have an impact later in the story. So far I am really enjoying writing this while waiting for Halo Infinite to drop. Until then, I hear Reach calling my name right now and my trusty DMR waiting for me. Until next time.
~Dgreen20