Chapter 9: Illusions
"Hey."
Derek groaned and rolled over, enjoying the tranquility of rest too much to get up. This peace was interrupted by a hard object hitting him in the back of the head.
Grunting sharply, he sat up and turned to the culprit. DJ was sitting on a cot nearby eating beans out of a can.
"Morning."
Shaking the pain from his head, Derek rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"
The young operative looked at a tiny dust coated clock on the wall, squinting to see the time through the grime. "About four o'clock. Give or take 10 minutes."
Groaning, Derek dusted some sand off his glasses and put them on. "Really? Four in the morning?"
"Could have woken you up at two when I got up." DJ shrugged, before gesturing to the can. "Breakfast?"
"Is it beans?"
"The fuck else would it be? Filet mignon and caviar? Let me just get out my doilies."
"No thanks." Derek picked up the object that had clattered to the floor. It was the magazine from one of DJ's pistols. "Was that really necessary?"
"Probably not."
Derek got off the cot and deposited the magazine back on the desk where the weapons were laid out.
"So. Plans for today?"
DJ swallowed the last of his beans and three-pointered the can into an empty crate nearby. "Head out eastwards. Try not to get shot. The usual fo-pa."
"Exciting."
DJ scoffed, getting off the bench and wandering over. "I hope the fuck not. I could do with a little less excitement till I get officially reassigned. Even then I think Hanne will try to kick the shit out of me."
The exhausted scientist sighed, nodding halfheartedly at the realisation that could very well be true.
"Hey, where's the bathroom?"
DJ jerked his thumb to the entrance door making Derek grimace. "Seriously?"
"No, I have a golden toilet hiding behind the rock wall behind us." DJ sarcastically replied, giving Derek a smirk. "Take your piss and get ready to go. There's less resistance on the roads the earlier it is."
Derek sighed and opened the door, stepping out to 'do his business'.
Meanwhile, DJ assessed the situation of his weapons. Donning holsters to the waist and underarms, he slotted in the Automag III and 1911's into their respective places. Adjusting to make room for his armor, he poured sand over the fire he had created earlier with a kick.
Derek returned inside, shaking off some sand from his coat.
"You done pissing I take it?" DJ remarked as he took off his trench coat and attached the kevlar/metal scale body armor to himself.
"Yeah, you done checking your mini arsenal?" Derek checked over his own pistol as DJ redonned his coat.
"Big stuff's in the jeep." DJ rolled his eyes before opening one of the duffle bags and pulling out a light metal vest. "Here put this on. I don't want to risk you dying from getting shot in the vitals."
"I thought you said you were hoping to avoid contact?" Derek asked skeptically, taking off his lab coat.
"Since when has hoping for a result ever worked in Nevada?"
Derek raised his finger in motion to reply, but ceased and dropped it. "Fair point."
DJ clipped the sheath for his sword over on his chest, keeping it securely slung on his back. Derek caught his attention by tapping the metal vest with his Browning.
"You sure this will stop bullets?"
"I used to wear it before I got this one. Yes I'm sure." DJ reassured him. "You're the VIP remember? If you die my job goes down the shitter faster than you can say Insane Clown."
Derek slipped his lab coat back on and shifted the vest around a little to accommodate the weight.
Hoisting both the bags over his free shoulder, DJ nodded to the door. "Go, I'll follow you out."
Nodding, Derek flicked the power switch off and went back outside with DJ in tow.
"It's really dark out here." Derek remarked bluntly, using his memory to find the jeep. DJ on the other hand could see perfectly fine in the low light.
"It will be dawn soon, so get your panties out of the twist."
"Easy for you to say, your low light vision is comparable to a cat's."
DJ chucked the duffle bags in the back while Derek fumbled his way into the passenger's seat.
"Just sealing the place back up again. Then we'll be going."
Derek settled into the torn and damaged seat as DJ shoved the rock back into place, before joining him in the battle worn vehicle.
Kicking the old machine into life, DJ backed out of the cave and into the light breeze outside, flicking on the one working headlight.
"Shit, forgot about that." DJ shrugged and started off down the road, the ever so slight gold glow of the sun just peering over the horizon behind them.
The early morning of the Nevada desert was very calm besides the soft wind. Derek's eyes slowly adjusted to the fading darkness as he looked around. "DJ how do you even know where the road is?"
"I don't. It's guesswork really with all this sand." DJ glanced over to the radio and flicked it on. A news report was midway through being presented.
"-phanage is nearing the end of the rebuild, which is timely given the pending weather scheduled for the area. Recent AAHW investigations reveal this was potentially an act of the terrorist group, the Anti-AAHW. Motives are unclear, but whatever they are, they cannot be anything but malicious. More after the 8 am report."
"Ugh, I always hated Nev News. Even when they supported us in the Agency, they always just sounded so… paid to do it." Derek muttered in contempt.
DJ nodded in agreement, flicking the radio off again as the reporter switched into sports. "Not like there's anything else around here. Unless you have something you want to talk about?"
Derek unconsciously felt the pocket with the LMG bullet in it, "Well I-"
A sharp jolt from behind cut him off, causing DJ to momentarily lose control of the jeep before correcting.
"The fuck is… Oh great, black sedan that looks totally fucked. AAHW coming for your ass I bet." DJ grunted, flooring the accelerator. Derek looked back and for a moment locked eyes with the driver of the sedan.
It was carson. He had caught up with them.
"Shit it's my lead engineer." Derek cursed. "Figured if anyone it would be him though."
"You mean that asshole I fought with a day or two ago?" DJ glanced in the rearview mirror, seemingly lining up something. "He's playing it awfully risky for an Engineer."
"He never underwent the upgrade process. Would have hindered his lethality score." Derek explained, gripping his pistol tighter.
"Oh? And what's his score?" DJ braked hard and violently turned, swatting the sedan's right front wheel with the jeeps back and sending both vehicles sliding sideways down the road for a period.
Once they came to a stop, DJ rush tackled Derek out of the jeep into cover while Carson exited the now immobile sedan with his rifle.
"Agents score about a 40 at most, Engineers get an average of 50 and soldats get 60 and up. Carson-" Derek flinched as a bullet hit the jeeps paneling, ricocheting off onto the asphalt with a loud PING.
"Has a score of 85. He used to be part of a hunting squad that dealt with dissenters."
DJ grunted in acknowledgement. "Right. Fun police, gotcha." Sliding the Automag III from his left thigh holster, he popped two shots at the sedan, tearing through the ripped paneling but being deflected by the engine block.
"No chance of getting out of here without taking a risk. I've got a plan, but it's borderline insanity." DJ muttered as a shot tore through the jeeps bodywork and between both him and Derek.
"Oh? And what may that be?"
"Come on. Give me a good angle." Carson murmured to himself, scanning the jeep for movement.
Spotting movement under the jeep, he fired but realized it was just a bag he had been fooled by
Cursing at the rookie mistake, he adjusted to take another shot but was greeted by DJ vaulting the front of the jeep with his sword raised.
Carson had but a few seconds to react. The young Operative was still deathly quick despite being so bulky, lifting the rifle to block the sword slash down on his head.
DJ pulled back and went for a wild side slash, giving Carson time to pull a combat knife out from his belt to block the swing.
Carson countered with a swift kick to the ribs, making DJ take a few steps back in pain.
Something pulled at his mind but Carson disregarded it and lunged forward with the knife, plunging it into DJ's shoulder.
Or so he would have had the blade not snapped in two on impact. The blow still made DJ grunt in pain, but the pieces of what was bugging Cason finally became clear to him.
Too late.
DJ had baited him into the open. Derek was standing behind him, pistol raised for a headshot.
"I'm sorry Carson, but this is happening. I'm going with DJ to the Antithesis. Whatever fate awaits me there is my own to take."
Carson scoffed and turned to Derek. "And what? You think they will protect you? They will torture you for the information you have then discard you when you no longer serve a purpose!"
"You mean like the AAHW sent you out here to do to me? I reached the end of my useful period by their standards. I wouldn't have been relegated to the pathetic side projects of Cain's if they had considered me useful."
Carson's posture changed, assuming a more relaxed position. "You are a scientist of the AAHW. One of the Improbable Quintet. And a murderer protected by us because you were useful. We lose nothing upon your death, but you know too much to live now."
Derek shook his head. "No, I'm not a murderer. The Alphabetical Set was a different time, we didn't know what we were dealing with and we still don't to this day really. I didn't intentionally kill anyone!"
Carson shook his head. "Is that so? Have you forgotten what you did to DJ's original family?"
DJ, having recovered from the blow that had cut his scales but not pierced his more dense bone structure, shook his head. "The fuck are you on about you fanatic lunatic?"
Carson glanced back to the confused DJ. "Derek never told you about the reason he carries that bullet did he?"
"Carson don't you dare! I haven't had the time to tell him yet properly." Derek snapped, gritting his teeth.
"He carries it as a mark of shame, to never forget what he did that fateful day all those years ago."
DJ frowned, pulling out his Automag III again, and aiming it at Carson's head. "You either start making sense, or I blow your brains out and leave you to rot."
"You were an orphan, but you could never remember why, correct? Well, that's because Derek wiped your mind of the memories of that day. It's a gap right?" Carson made a half turn to look at DJ. "You knew your family one day, then there's nothing, then the orphanage."
"WOULD YOU JUST SHU-"
"Derek killed your family kid. Your father was against the Agency, and was lobbying to have them barred from New Zealand for warmongering motives. Derek was tasked with wiping out your family entirely. Of course he was sloppy and left evidence it was the Agency who took your family out, and got the entire Agency barred from operating even a single person in your little home country."
DJ frozen up solid halfway through. It wasn't some tidal wave of memory but a cold shuddering of repressed emotions. One couldn't tell if it was shock, sadness or anger on his face, if not a combination of all three.
"But then, he got word he missed one of the family. You. Being moved into a science division with his wife, it became a two birds one stone situation for him. He figured he would pick you up and clean slate your entire family. With you adopted he had recovered the otherwise fucked scenario enough to not be terminated, and he had a new subject for his experiment. All seemed really convenient didn't it De-"
Carson was cut off by a thunderous BOOM. His head promptly exploded with enough force to crack the Engineer's mask through both the visual glass and polymer body.
Derek lowered the smoking Desert Eagle, sighing. He had forgotten about the hefty weapon in his lab coat pocket from the base.
DJ was still frozen, only now with Carson out of the way, his gun was now aimed at Derek.
"DJ- Drake. I was meaning to tell you since we left the base but…" Tossing the Deagle aside Derek cautiously approached an unfreezing DJ, whose expression changed from one of sad shock, to one of a chilling void of nothing.
"I hadn't felt confident enough to tell you. It was back when I was in my excited phase of discovery. I put everything behind the projects. They came first, to the point it took losing Beth to one to knock some sense into me. I can never apologize enough for what I did but-"
"Just get in the jeep." DJ brushed past him, holstering the heavy pistol.
Derek felt the sharp chill in the tone of voice. It wasn't harsh, but the softness in DJ's voice was unnaturally terrifying. Following the order given he entered the passenger seat silently.
DJ had grabbed a frag grenade from out the back of the jeep. Pulling the pin, he underarm rolled it to the sedan, before getting into the jeeps drivers seat.
The sedan erupted in a vicious explosion, tearing it apart like a paper-mache pinata being attacked by kids with sticks.
Almost kicking the jeep into life again literally, DJ readjusted and set them on the road again. Derek looked over to say something.
What greeted him was a sudden stop throwing him out of his seat. Meeting DJ's gaze revealed a stare that had the potential to kill from miles away. A controlled yet deeply feral anger.
Derek looked back to the road and sank back in his seat as low as he could get, while DJ's gaze turned back to the road.
It was going to be one quiet trip ahead of them to New York state.
By the time they had reached the state home to the Eastern HQ, it was already late afternoon. Having been directed to a hideaway to park the jeep, DJ was in the process of directing Derek to the Metro system.
Having entered a maintenance doorway in Grand Central, they had been walking along for a bit of time in an abandoned section of subway before DJ had sharply turned right across the tracks to a nondescript door in the wall.
Swiping the keycard he got from Hanz, he pushed the door open and directed Derek down the hallway, pausing in front of a heavily armed Operative at the next door.
"And I suppose you are this Operative Anderson we've been hearing about?"
"Yeah. Can we hurry this up?"
The guarding Operative opened the door for the two. "Wait here for Sanders and Jones, they'll take the scientist, then I'll be running you through debrief."
"Fine" DJ directed Derek on through and forced him into the chair, standing beside him still as cold as when he walked in.
"Drake I-" Derek was cut off by a swift cross punch to the face, giving him a blood nose. The shaking fist of DJ's was stained with his blood.
"Not. A. Word. You can talk to the interrogation team."
Holding up his sleeve to stop from bleeding on the floor, Derek resigned himself to silence, fearing more torturous abuse at the hands of his adoptive son.
A masked man and a bulky but shorter blond haired man approached, the masked man pointed to Derek. "This the scientist I take?"
DJ pulled him up, fishing in his pocket for something, before pushing Derek to them, "Yeah. Have fun with him." The lingering scowl on DJ's face seemingly crushed Derek's remaining emotions and physical strength, slouching over slightly in the bulkier Operatives grip.
The two left with Derek, as DJ was led aside down a separate hallway. The dark stonework made for a much more serious feel than the warmer colours of the Western Division. Exposed stone in a few places as well as clear industrial repurposing of old maintenance tunnels and rooms gave it a very utilitarian feel.
Taking a seat at the table across from the first Operative they met, DJ sat ridgedly, while the Operative leaned back in his chair. "Operative DJ Anderson. Officially classed as Senior Field Operative I hear. Seems like you impressed the right people out West. I'm Operative Herschel. I am currently the head of security for the time being while we reorganise, so I'm also in charge of mission debriefs for the newbies like you."
Pulling a pen and pad from the side bag he wore, Herschel placed them on the table and looked DJ in the eye. "You've been slated for a specialty unit, before I am allowed to let you continue however, I need you to describe your mission, from start to finish. Every detail is important and relevant."
DJ sighed, letting out a breath of exhaustion. "Well, it all started in Doc's Diner…"
A/N: Hey. Again, I don't normally like doing authors' notes, but this ones important. I was stuck here, unable to write the end for the better part of 2 years because I wasn't able to have the confidence to ask the right question about the East's base details. So I have effectively passed the biggest hurdle I've ever faced in writing a fic to date, and I figured that was worth talking about and celebrating sort of since it shatters a 2 and a half year long writer's block for the end of this chapter.
That's it. There's only one chapter I plan after this, and at the end will contain a proper Authors Note talkin about shit, for now, this is where I sign off after not sleeping at all because sleep deprivation is a cunt. Stay safe everyone.