Chapter 3: Steel

"Your mission is simple. Recon the base and find out what they are doing there. It's a small outpost but intel suggests that it could be a front for something much bigger."

The informant, an Eastern Division Operative, and DJ had met up in Dr. Rockso's Crack Coffee, a greasy spoon diner with a reputation for low lifes and drug dealers holding spots as regulars. While it only had a few of said clientele, that did not however mean that they could talk beyond a hoarse whisper.

Any one of these seeming criminals could be working for the Agency.

"Recon? What exactly am I-"

DJ stopped talking as the waitress walked past their table.

"You'll figure it out when you get there. It's a Red Zone place. Those shouldn't be hard to guess, right?" He downs the coffee, twisting his face in disgust soon after. "Fucking Hell, half of this has to be that instant garbage. That, or literal dirt."

DJ visibly gritted his teeth, "Red Zone is nothing but experiments, prisoners, slaves and comm centers. That's all shit I've dealt with before." He said, voice rising slightly. "I'm asking about the mission, not where I'm heading."

The man wore a stare that seemed almost piteous in nature. It faded as soon as it came.

"We have reason to believe that a unit dubbed 'G-O-L-3-M' is being tested there. Pronounced 'Golem,' we would assume. But otherwise, we have no clue what it is. That's where you come in. Get in there and find out what you can. Oh, you're gonna be blowing up the place too. Probably should have mentioned that soo-"

"That sounds like a lot more than just 'recon!'"

"Okay, calm down. If you get any louder, the whole diner's gonna be a part of our conversation." The man takes another sip of his mug, his expression of repulsion returning for a split-second. "Look, I'm just the messenger, alright? Says recon on the file, so I told you it's recon. You want me to start pulling explanations out of my ass or what?"

"I'd prefer the name of whoever sent you then. They must be out of their damn mind because I haven't even seen this place before in my life, and I pretty much live out there."

"I can't say who, but I'd put my money on it being someone important, seeing as how you're expected to head East after this."

DJ pondered for a moment, before one name popped to mind.

Hanne.

So that's how it is.

Standing up from his booth seat, DJ dusted off his jacket. "A final test, huh?"

"If it makes the pressure any easier to handle, think of it as your first-class ticket to the Eastern Division. Except your ticket is made out of whatever rubble you leave behind when you're done." The man poured another cup for himself. "Simple shit, like this coffee."

DJ exited the diner, looking around and flaring the collar of his coat to repel the wind. Once he got in his jeep, he quickly left town through the back streets. With not much to look at beside some run down and abandoned grey structures, the entire area despite

A hidden slum wiped off the maps of the world.

The partnerless drive left him pondering old memories. Things seemingly out of reach nowadays. Spanish class, orphan life on the street… any further back seemed to be a blur and cause a headache. Casting the pain aside, he arrived at his last stop: an old warehouse.

It stood seemingly deserted relative to the rest of the neighborhood, just like how he remembered it being. A shining beacon amidst the surrounding darkness of faction warfare.

Home, in a way. The only one he remembered besides what he was told about where he came from.

He pulled into the alleyway behind the warehouse, parking behind the dumpsters. A smile formed on DJ's face upon a familiar figure approaching him as he exited the vehicle.

"Putain! Good to see you're still alive."

Putain grinned, now an older man balding with light grey hair yet with the same pale green eyes. He had a few scars covering his surprisingly younger-looking face, but his most prominent feature was the lack of a left arm. The two embraced.

"It is good to see you DJ. Been a long time, yes?"

He had a subtle undertone, but it was nearly unidentifiable.

"Three years. Maybe four now."

Putain chuckled, taking a step back from the embrace. At this distance, DJ could clearly see the .357 Colt revolver and the modestly padded kevlar vest his old friend wore.

The elder grinned. "Well, you just made this old man's day, coming to visit. You're like a son to me after all. The day you joined the Antithesis, I was thrilled!"

DJ frowned. "Wait, how did you…"

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm not useful. The homeless are great spies, and I run the info business around here." Putain led him inside, gesturing to a few idle men in an unknowable motion as they walked to a makeshift table, off to the side. "While the AAHW trades workspace for us to be in, the Antithesis trades me information. I ask a question as payment and they answer. First one I had was about you."

Sitting down with a groan from his older joints, Putain pulled a flask from his overcoat.

"Still being a sneaky old bastard playing both sides huh?" DJ said as he sat across from him.

"Not myself. I've got people to do that for me. The warehouse used to be where we squatted, but now I got the money from the Agency paying me off to keep my mouth shut." A heavy sigh followed by a deep swig of mystery liquid paused his rambling.

"Course all the info I had then is useless by now, but still. It's very profitable and safe to be a neutral party."

DJ nodded, watching the elder. "Still in the loop I see. Then you know what I am here for already then."

"Info, I'd imagine?"

"On something called a 'Golem.' New sort of experimental unit the Agency is making."

Putain frowned. The atmosphere of the room changed almost as quickly.

"You're better off not doing this mission, Drake."

DJ shook his head. "Command says it needs to be done. Recon or something."

Before Putain could get up from his seat, DJ stood up quickly, cutting him off from any route of escape.

"I only got a name from the briefing, Putain. You'd be putting me in more danger by not telling me what I need to hear. I've not got a choice here."

Putain sighed, stocking the flask back in his pocket. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's my last one before I'm reassigned to an actual Division." DJ sat back down. "I'd prefer to walk in there with a good track record. Not as someone who shirks orders."

"They sending you to Hanne? Fuuuck… you're not wrong about needing the 'good track record' then. Hell, he's probably the one who assigned you this. Always putting the roughest missions on the new ones..." Putain leaned forward. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

DJ pulled out a small pocketbook and a pen. "Where are they?"

"Red Zone Sector 2, right next to the fences. One of my guys was taking a piss near the area and saw, as I quote from him, 'a big guy with a disfigured head.' He… or it, was wearing a grey suit of metal armor, carrying huge crates in the loading bay."

DJ noted it down. "Defences?"

"Weak. It's supposed to look like an admin building. A few guards, that's about it."

"Entrances?"

"Unless you want to get shot on-sight, you're going to need a disguise. That, or dig or climb. Fence itself seems too rickety for it to be charged electrically. Might be wrong though, so don't take my word for it."

"Anything else?"

"Take nothing with you."

Nothing?

"What do you mean 'nothing'?" DJ asked.

"I'm saying that you're probably going to lose your belongings, so unless you want to cry about it later on, go in with nothing. If push comes to shove, scavenge like I taught you."

"What about if things get messy? I'm supposed to blow up the building!"

"I thought you said you were just doing recon?"

"I thought that too."

Putain raised an eyebrow before shaking his head in defeat. "Agency buildings in the RZ all run off either Coal or Diesel generators. Burn it or detonate it with ordinance that you should find in the building."

Skepticism clouded DJ's mind. This was very specific information regarding the building. He never doubted Putain's skill to find information, but this was too accurate.

"How the hell do you know all of this?"

Putain smiled warmly. "The Antithesis aren't the only ones who trade me information you know. Besides, I conscripted a few guys to work there who told me these things."

DJ thought for a moment. It was plausible… Wait. Putain never let his guys work for anyone else, period. "If you're going to lie to me, at least put in some effort. I can catch you out way too easily if you say shit like that."

Putain sighed. "That's a shame. That's a real damn shame, you know that?"

He pulled his revolver on DJ, who reacted by jumping from his seat and pulling out his own pistol. "As family as I consider you, the Agency has done more for me than the Antithesis. I'm part of their information division now, and that building is where I go to work when I'm not here."

DJ suppressed a feral growl, sharpening his glare at the elder.

"But… you are still more of a son to me than whatever scum my own one has become by joining the Nevada Saints."

He holstered his revolver, causing DJ to lower his pistol slightly from the headshot aim. Putain stood up, cracking his hip into place.

"I can't kill someone who was willing to deal with my demands. Especially if that someone is as hard to kill as you."

He looked at DJ, shrugging. "You can kill me if you wish."

DJ contemplated the choice for a moment. "You have no idea what you've just done, do you? Frankly, I'd be doing the men that serve you a service by adding a new eyehole in your forehead."

"Indeed. I know exactly what I did." He smiled. "I'll be looking forward to the consequences. Whenever they may come."

DJ sighed, holstering his weapon. "All these years must've made you lose your goddamn mind, old man."

"Implying I hadn't already lost it before then? I'm flattered." Putain took his seat again, cocking his head towards the door. "Get moving. Consider this encounter as a warning for what to come."

"I'll keep that in mind. Just get out of your deal while you can. Else the next time we meet…"

"You've got enough to worry about on your own." Putain grinned. "I've been around longer than you have, you needn't worry about me. Go."

In silence, DJ went back to the jeep, vaulting the door and getting in the driver's seat. He pulled out of the warehouse back onto the road, once again driving out of the town going east.

His normal left hand turned pale as he gripped the steering wheel hard.

"I'm asking you to stay around a little longer, old man… "

DJ had pulled off the road to a full stop. He looked at the digital clock duct taped to the dashboard. Three hours had passed since his last stop; there was no turning back now.

The fenced outline of the Red Zone was clear from this distance, as well as his target building. Getting into the bed of the jeep, he decided to wait till the sun went down before attempting anything, given the lack of any truly specific information.

He opened a trap door compartment on the bed behind the driver's seat. Inside lay a minifridge, connected to the battery. It was his idea of "staying frosty" when he needed to stick around for awhile.

Inside the deceptively large fridge was a few assorted cans of various drinks; some were more popular brands, while others were… questionable. He however, had a metal flask from the back of the fridge that he reached for instead.

"Garm's mysterious mix. You're a godsend for long hauls of staying awake."

Deep gulps soothed his nerves, seemingly chilling the very blood in his veins. A brief rush of sharp cold stimulated his weary system.

Closing the lid and putting it aside, he watched the light begin to fade from the sky. His mind reeled back to memories of times past yet again, eyelids sinking with the sun.

"You could be training, you know."

DJ glanced back and saw the Outpost quartermaster behind him. The roof of the Outpost was flat and wide, offering a pretty good view of the surrounding desert.

"Yeah, but I just got off a six hour exercise five minutes ago." He replied to the long, black haired woman.

She came over next to him and sat down. "Let me guess. Shooting for three hours, CQC with the beat up BOT's for two, and standard gym shit for the last hour?"

"Yep. Wolf loves his time orders in sequence," DJ mused, taking a swig from the Nev-Alcohol can.

The quartermaster did a double take. "Isn't 16 a bit young to be drinking?"

DJ gave her a wide grin. "Not where I come from. So long as you have legal guardian's permission at least. No 'legal guardians' here in the Antithesis, eh?"

The concern didn't vanish from the quartermaster's face. DJ put the can down and looked her dead in the eye.

"Alright, look. You keep me and my drinking a secret, and I won't tell Wolf that you've been making off with his cigars every other week. Deal?"

"Wha-? How did you figure me out?!"

"Come on. You smell like a tobacco dry room. Noticed you've been keeping your distance from Wolf too." DJ looked at her once more, still grinning. "Should've been avoiding me too while you were at it, huh?"

"Clearly." She sighed. "Damn… now I need a drink."

DJ fished out an extra can from his jacket's pocket. "Neat jacket, huh? Tons of pockets and everything."

"Just give me the beer."

He tossed her the can. She cracked it open and took a heavy swig, wiping the beer foam from her lips. "Where'd you get that anyway? Last I knew, you were wearing that Dead Rising hoodie all the time."

"Snagged it off that Agency convoy. I guess the engineer I scared shitless planned to wear it instead of the trench coat." DJ finished the can and crushed it with his mutated hand into a nearly perfect flat disk. He pulled out a third beverage. "Them things look cool and are great for shit, but they can get fucking heavy."

"Fair enough. Hey kid?"

"Yeah?"

Her expression turned grim as she stared off into the distance. "Don't lose that personality of yours."

"Huh?"

The quartermaster straightened her back, still avoiding his gaze.

"You know Kyle?"

"Who?"

"An Operative the higher ups wanted no one to remember. Betrayed Antithesis as a spy for the Agency." One of her fists tightened. "Motherfucker cost me my partner and had me sent to Facility Z."

"I was in Facility X for my testing. Never heard of Facility Z, though."

"It's better if you didn't."

"You guys still used a number system though?"

She nodded, looking down. "I was 74."

A cold shiver ran up DJ's spine. "73 people. Christ."

"I'm sure there were a lot of good souls in that 73. Never get to know now." She looked at him. "You were from X, right? What was yours?"

"13."

"X… that was the bulletproof super soldier one, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

She noticed his jaw tighten, but quickly averted her eyes. "There were 14 of you, right?"

"For someone who came from an entirely different Facility, you sure know a lot."

"Z was developed to allow the subject to integrate with an entire network to access secure files and personnel data. It was supposed to hook into the US military's system, but as a trial, I was networked with the Antithesis system."

She finished the can and crushed it into a disk along side DJ's.

"It was a Northern Division assault on the complex that set me free. I was never disconnected from the system, so I am looking at your files right now. Call it cheating if you want."

Looking closer, her deep ocean blue eyes had little patches of white flying around in them. The sight only made him frown.

"My eyes aren't real. While they function the same, I can bring up anything that's in the Antithesis system. Think of them as extreme versions of a TAC mask, combined with a network terminal." She smiled.

"Hence why I'm the quartermaster here. If something is wrong with say, a particular rifle, I can find out instantly and repair it. Same reason why I'm the lead engineer."

"The only part I enjoy about this is the fact that I can cheat the system. Disable locks on the network, find out things about people so I'm not in the dark, find out what's wrong with the hardware…" She looked DJ up and down smirking, "Clothes, too."

DJ nervously chuckled, "That's… a joke, right?"

"Helps with the security checks. That geek Shane out West may be a skinny little shit who likes to tickle pressure points, but he's one hell of a security systems expert. Even if it has its flaws."

The young Operative's face turned beet red as he placed both his hands over his nether regions. The quartermaster chuckled.

"Hey, no shame in what you've got packing down there. You'll make a woman real happy someday, I'm sure."

"SHUT IT!"

She laughed. "Does it help to know that I'm a lesbian?"

"Not with that stupid grin on your face, no. Ah, fuck it!"

DJ picked up his can, downing as much as he could in one go. Maybe it'd knock him out of this nightmare like in his lightweight days before Project X.

It didn't.

The quartermaster patted him on the back. "Your experiment filters out poisons and toxins from your system as a secondary effect. You'd wet yourself before your liver fails."

"I'm sure that'd look like one hell of a sight with me having no clothes on." He shook his head. "Fucking shit."

The last patches of sunset gave him little reprieve.

"Hey."

DJ looked to her, a lot less confident than from the start of the conversation.

"You're alright, kid." Her smile felt warmer now, especially with the little white squares fading from her eyes. "And it's not just your combat reports that show that."

The comfort allowed him to ask the last thing on his mind:

"What's your name?"

"Maria. Mari for short. You're actually the first person to ask that. No one else seems to give a flying fuck."

"I've noticed."

"Yeah. Last time Wolf called me over, he referred to me as 'weapon woman'. So I slapped the bejebus out of him and called him a cunt."

DJ quickly swallowed his drink before he would spit it out. His throat was stuck between half-choking and half-laughing. "What?!"

"Yep. Can't name one person aside from you I haven't slapped in this concrete shithole."

DJ wiped away the tears looking at his watch. "Shit, it's nearly eight. Better go back in before I get chewed out for missing curfew."

"And I better get on the night watch." Maria got up, pulling a PDA out of her black lab coat looking jacket as it beeped.

"Well lookie here. The lead nerd from the Western Division is coming over with his lacky to check out the base tomorrow. Looks like I also gotta get John to haul ass on those BOT repairs."

She sighed. "Otherwise, I'm gonna have my ass handed to me by some skinny fucker that I'm not allowed to hit back for fear of 'reducing his engineering capabilities'."

DJ smiled and opened the roof hatch. He gave one last look at her.

"Hey, Mari?"

She looked up from her PDA. "Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you when I have questions about some shit? No one ever talks to me here…"

"Sure. Just don't get too personal, I have a habit of poking fun at the worst of times." She grinned. "Master Three Legs."

DJ went bright red again, biting his tongue. Instead, he ventured back inside to go get some rest.

The present took precedence with a soft beeping. DJ glanced to the source of the annoying tone on the dashboard.

Eleven o' clock.

Taking another big drink from his flask and putting the rest back in the fridge. He hopped out of the vehicle.

"Nothing on me, just like you said old man." DJ said to himself.

He approached the fence, testing out the wires by tapping a finger against it. Feeling no spark snap at him back, he took his chances. The fence shook badly, but he made it over before its age would become a problem.

The massive building nearby featured two guards at its front, just as Putain said. An unusually low amount of security, but he wasn't one to complain.

There would likely be more bodies inside.

"All is going to plan," A light-toned, booming Russian voice said.

"Pavel, I think you need to hear this."

"What is it, Zai?"

"The Western Division sent out a Senior Field Operative and The Anomaly out on a mission. They were recently captured by The Professor."

"Bah! Cain and his Entropite are weak and useless. The Auditor will see this and be done with him soon. The raw power of the Drives themselves are the key, as well as the keystone Christoff wields."

"But…"

"But nothing. The Anomaly is of some concern, but Cain will not be an issue. The old human is past his time, the fact he hasn't lost his mind yet is the only reason he is still here."

"Cain has his old project back."

"Please. The Walker brother is of no concern. Madness will consume him, or he will be weak to the influence of the energy regardless. Let The Anomaly handle him. With how far the old fool's mind has deteriorated, I have little to no doubt that he and his partner will escape Cain's confinement."

The visage of Zai remained quiet, as Devus's visage appeared on the rock formation.

"Was it successful?" Pavel's visage turned to Devus.

"Yes. The new experimental units are feeble and slow, with armor just as fickle. They will not be a problem for the target to take out should he 'fail' his mission."

"Good. Then we will leave this in the hands of the man's father. Removing this Host from the war will make things easier."

"Indeed, sir."

"One more thing, Devus."

"Yes, sir?"

"Have you considered surgery to correct your poor vision?"

For a good couple of seconds, silence separated the two of them.

"Devus?"

"I WILL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!"

"Gotta catch me first, you blind bastard."

Both vanished, while the Pavel phantom turned back around. He glowered at the lone building.

"I'm surrounded by fucking idiots…"