Hello everyone and welcome back to another chapter of this story! Firstly, I wanted to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter for my return after like 2 years! I appreciate the honest and respectful feedback! I am sorry to anyone who thought the last chapter was a bit blocky and strange. It had been the first time I wrote anything in a long time so I hope this one goes a bit smoother. Not to mention it was a bit hard to write that chapter. However, now we are over it and I hope things go smoother from here on! I know this next chapter comes a lot sooner than the last one, not that it was very hard to do that, so I hope it does not disappoint. Thank you all again for the honest reviews and I will continue to improve for you guys!

Chapter Eight: Deals With The Devil

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

A loud female voice roared inside an office behind a metal door followed by a loud crash and boom. One would think that said metal door would be thick enough to hide any voices and or noises, but you would be wrong. The two guards standing outside next to the door both looked at each other. Despite wearing helmets it was clear what look they were giving. They were scared shitless. Almost like the zookeeper standing in front of a caged lion that could be released at any moment.

The space on the other side of that door was much more hostile. Within the four walls of that office were only three people. One was the Director of Project Freelancer, standing next to him was The Counselor, and in front of both of them standing in front of the desk that had been hurled at the wall behind them was an Agent clad in black armor.

She was simply known as Agent Texas.

"Are you both out of your fucking minds! Why would you keep me here! You needed me there! I'm not some pet you can keep locked up!" She roared, stomping her feet in anger and throwing her fist against the metal walls.

To the credit of both men in the room, they remained calm, as calm as they could be in the face of a lion that is. The Director with his hands placed professionally behind his back and his eyes hidden behind his glasses while the Counselor stood and jotted notes in the electronic notepad he clutched in his hands. They did not move or flinch at her outbursts, it would seem that these were rather normal occurrences among the females around the Mother of Invention.

"Agent Texas, please remain calm. Both the Director and I have our-" The Counselor's strangely soothing voice tried to be the voice of reason in the situation but was quickly cut off by another roaring outburst from Agent Texas.

"You shut the fuck up! I'm not talking to you!" She screamed as her helmet's focus was then turned back to the man standing silently with his hands behind his back. "Are you going to say anything?!"

"Agent Texas, it was within our best interests to keep you here." The Director stated firmly. "Agent Carolina and the rest of the Agents had the situation completely under control. I would advise that you have more faith in your fellow Agents." He continued his voice remaining firm, his tone unwavering in his decision.

However, the Agent in black continued to glare daggers at him underneath her helmet. She did not instantly explode into another outburst of rage again, which was an improvement, but this time resorted to a calm and cold response. "Bullshit. Carolina came back with a hole in her leg and was probably seconds from getting her head blown off. I could have done that without anyone getting hurt!"

The Director did not respond. He stared aimlessly forward as Texas walked forward and glared through his shaded glasses. Her voice continued to remain quiet though her words dripped with venom and edge.

"You think I'm some sort of idiot?" She asked turning her head to the side. "I know what this is about. You're scared." She spits jamming a finger into the Director's chest. "Ever since that mission at that outpost you've had me on house arrest. Unable to leave this fucking ship. This Spartan shows up gunning for your head and you lose your damn balls. Well, get over it!" She proclaimed removing the finger from his chest and turning around. "If you're too damn scared that you have to hide away on this ship so be it, asshole. But not me! I'm not your damn pet! Next time, I'm going whether you want me to or not!" She stated, walking towards the door and all but ripping it open and walking furiously down the hallway.

The Counselor slowly turned and looked at the Director. "Would you like me to document the increase in Texas' aggression levels Director?"

"No, Counselor I would not. We will deal with her later. Right now, I would like to go pay our prisoner a visit."

Sitting in the upper observation room of the training area York placed his mug to his lips as he leaned back with his feet in the window seal. His brown hair was messily thrown in the upwards position as he lounged in some comfortable training and gym wear. His eyes were fixated out of the window as he watched another down below in the actual training area.

Agent Carolina, suited completely up in armor continued to run laps and throw kicks at targets in some sort of movement combat training. After all of the targets were gone the overhead voice of F.I.L.S.S or the ship's helpful everything in one simple A.I, would ask if she would like to restart the training. Carolina always said yes. F.I.L.S.S was not like the other A.I that had been getting issued to the Agents of Project Freelancer. She was incapable of being integrated into any suits or other systems to help with rapid movement support or combat. But for Carolina's continuous training and York's never-ending monitoring, she was always there.

"Still up here, huh? I thought you went to grab some food." A calm and friendly voice called out to the brunette that sat in the swivel chair. York in response turned to the source of the voice and came face to face with his blonde best friend. Agent North Dakota.

Agent North Dakota was also in some comfortable training clothes. Matching the color scheme that was seen on his armor. His features were soft and his voice was gentle. Everything about him screamed big brother and as he looked at York he couldn't help but know exactly what he was doing. He crossed his arms and sighed as he walked and stood next to the man sitting in the chair. They both began to stare out of the glass windows that looked down below. Watching Carolina continuously train without a break.

"Nah, I brought my lunch here." York responded throwing a thumb back towards the lunch box in the corner. His eyes went to the side and looked at his friend as he took another sip of his drink. "What are you doing here?"

North chuckled. "Hah, I came to check on you. I figured if you weren't down at the mess hall you were probably here with her." North's eyes looked at the mug and he raised his eyebrows with question. "Feeling tired already? It's only two p.m."

With a long sip York lowered the mug and smiled. "Irish coffee."

"Ah, I see. You know you don't have to sit here and watch her. She's old enough to look out for herself." North stated with a bit of concern in his voice. Not that he wasn't worried about their fearless leader Carolina. But she was always pushing herself. Always going to the extreme and back. Of course York on the other hand would always throw himself into those extremes if it meant being with her. North would hate to see his best friend burn himself out over someone that didn't even know he was here.

"I'm not so sure about that." York responded sitting up straight in his chair. His usual carefree expression turned serious as he continued to watch Carolina. "Ever since Texas came she's been pushing herself harder and harder. Not that it's not normal for her to meet a challenge head-on. But this- I don't know." York said softly, his words trailing off as he began to lose himself in thought.

North looked at his friend for a moment before turning to face the window. He was worried about both of them. He wanted to believe that maybe this was all normal but after everything that has happened in the last month or so. He doubted that was true. They both were equipped with A.I now, a whole other person in their head. That was weird enough. But that on top of this Reaper guy that has been hunting them. Things just didn't feel right. "Yeah, I get what you mean." North added in agreement.

"Yeah man, I mean I've never seen Carolina like this before. It's like she was willing to do anything to be better than Texas and just when I thought that was bad enough we have this Spartan guy now. Now she's really willing to throw anything away. You've seen her the last couple of missions. She's been ruthless. More than usual. Not to mention she's come across this guy twice now. And every time she's come back hurt or almost killed." York proclaimed before leaning back in his seat with a sigh. "I just don't know anymore man."

North shrugged, "Maybe this is normal. She's always wanted to be the best and we both know it might be impossible but that's never stopped her from trying."

"That's not what I mean, North." York said turning to face his friend. "She's always been like that. We all know that. But I don't ever remember a time when we would be standing next to her and I'm wondering whether or not she's going to throw us to the wolves as bait to get ahead of them. I mean we've heard the stories about those guys. The legendary Spartan super-soldier, Reach, those guys aren't even human and it's like Carolina is trying to be like that. Just. . . it's scary man."

North nodded his head in understanding. York had always been the one to stand next to Carolina any time she was about to go off the deep end. He was like her anchor. But he could not imagine the amount of stress that must be put on him. The guy had been head over heels for Carolina the day she stole that lighter out of his hand. He would do anything for Carolina just like North would do anything for his sister. "It'll be alright. She's never let us down. I have faith in her."

York looked away for a moment before nodding his head. "Yeah, you're right. She's the scariest and strongest person I know. I just wish she would let me help her more."

North chuckled some, "Hah, yeah I know how that feels. But you're right, she's strong, she'll come to you when she needs you. And if she doesn't you'll be there when she does. Just make sure you take care of yourself a little. I would hate to see this be the death of you." He joked a little removing his hand from York's shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah thanks, Dad." York joked back before picking up his mug. Though before he could bring it to his lips he stopped for a moment and lowered it. "You been down to the lower levels yet?" He asked seriously.

North's smile faded for a moment and his face too became serious. "Yeah, I have."

York turned to look back down at Carolina as he sat the drink in his lap. "When did things get so complicated? I know this thing we do is messy but I never thought we would be the ones capturing and torturing people like that."

"It doesn't sit right with me either. But, there's not much we can do about it."

York leaned back into his chair with a conflicted look in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess not."

His eyes watched as another drop of blood slowly rolled down his body and crashed into the floor. The sound of droplets smacking the floor at different periods was the only sound that filled the empty poorly lit room. Spartan B-312 hung from a wall, his wrists chained to the wall behind him and above his head. Forced to kneel as he kept his gaze forward, staring at his reflection in the mirrored wall in front of him. If he had to guess it was a one-sided mirror, allowing the guards and perhaps even the Director himself to watch the Spartan closely.

The only entrance and exit to the room was the door, placed in the center of the mirrored wall. It would open randomly and the person that always walked through it was the white armored Agent, Agent Maine, who would come and inflect more damage onto the Spartan's body. After a couple of minutes of whatever choice of torture, a voice would come from the Agent's helmet to ask simple questions.

"Who are you?"

"What is the entirety of your mission?"

"Who sent you?"

Each time they were met with silence. Not even offered the grace of grunts or sounds of pain as they chipped away at Six's flesh. Cuts, bruises, and even burns all littered his body. Never allowed to fully close or heal, just enough to allow him to not bleed out or pass out from the pain. Not that his body would allow him to do any of the sorts anyway. The double-edged sword of having the body of a super-soldier. His durability allowed a building to fall on him and his bones to not crumble or break, his augmentations transformed him into something more than human. Capable of withstanding pain unimaginable to the regular human mind.

It would seem that they knew that all too well.

Of course, Six was different than the rest of the Spartans. His training as a headhunter and the personal Grim Reaper of ONI set him apart from the rest of his Spartan brothers and sisters. Ruthless training, even by Spartan standards, pushed his augmentations to their limits and then some. Trained to push himself deep into enemy lines, infiltrate, destroy, and return. And if he didn't return from his mission, he would die without a single sound being ripped out of him. No matter the pain Six was forged to be a mere weapon of ONI, anything but a liability.

So even as he knelt chained to this wall, blood dripping from his many wounds, his mind was still focused and his mission was still clear. At the end of the day, his objective had been completed. He had infiltrated the Mother of Invention. His next task had not changed. He would kill the Director.

It was the whole reason why he allowed himself to be captured in the first place.

The reason why he had not broken free from his chains yet was simple. He could not confirm whether the Director was actually on the ship or not. Breaking free only to find out that the Director had been hiding elsewhere, or perhaps on that day was off the ship, would be a miscalculation and a grave one at that. The Director was not a stupid man, allowing the enemy this close would only happen one time.

He had to make it count.

Though, this time he spent here was not completely wasted. He was gathering information, slowly, but he was still doing it. After being captured and thrown onto a ship Noble Six found out quite quickly that the Agents of Project Freelancer now had access to A.I. A very rare and powerful resource even for the most powerful positions within the UNSC. Not your typical function and chore A.I like D.O.T. No, full-fledged A.I that could mimic human thought processes and understanding. Portable and combat-capable A.I that could integrate with any UNSC system, including the cybernetics within a Spartans body.

The Master Chief was evidence enough as to why A.I and Spartan pairs were important and valuable assets to the UNSC.

Yet, A.I are difficult and costly to make. So why was it that Project Freelancer had multiple? If the Project was an investment research project funded by ONI surely they wouldn't have placed such faith in them to issue them a whole A.I? Did they steal it? Was that the Sarcophagus?

Either way, Noble Six was sure that the voice that came from Agent Maine's helmet was an A.I. From what he remembered Maine suffered from severe throat injury after being shot multiple times at close proximity. He was honestly surprised he survived at all. That would make a confirmed two A.I among the Agents. Agent New York the tan one with the green A.I and Maine with the unknown A.I.

One thing did bother him though. It was strange that the A.I that Maine possessed seemed to almost speak with authority over him. Not that it was entirely impossible that an A.I speak for someone that physically could not. But this was different. Not to mention, how was it that those A.I integratclassifieded with the Agents? Spartans used very complicated cybernetics that could be used merely because of their augmentations. Freelancers were not augmented super soldiers.

The entire goal of Freelancer was to create less expensive super-soldiers by using Spartan-influenced technology. But if they were using their suits to integrate with A.I or perhaps a less advanced form of cybernetics that would mean their goal from the beginning would have been focused around using A.I. Is that why they went rogue from ONI?

Noble Six took a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the ground. It seemed like the closer he got to this mission the more questions he had and not enough information to answer them. Not that any of those questions mattered. Once he killed the Director and completed his mission he would move on and ONI would get what they wanted. The Project would collapse and the Office would sweep it into a classified file.

A Spartan wasn't supposed to ask questions.

Then the Six was ripped from his thoughts as the door in the room opened. The Spartan expected Agent Maine to step through but instead it was the man he had been chasing this entire time. Director Church, leader, and mastermind behind this project. He was by himself, eyeing the Spartan behind his shaded glasses. The Director stepped into the room and approached Noble Six, looking down at him his facial expressions did not move.

"Hello there, Noble Six." He said simply, though that statement alone was enough to get the Spartan to glare right into the lenses of his glasses.

How did the Director know his callsign? It wasn't uncommon to know the Spartan teams that fought on Reach, especially after news hit the media that Reach had fallen. But he was a different story together. His profile and his history was classified to the highest level, it was made that way so he could be a flexible tool to integrate and infiltrate anything. The Director should not have access to such files, right now he was listed as rogue. His UNSC access should have been stripped.

"You seem surprised. I would have thought ONI's deadliest dog would have not made the mistake of underestimating his enemy." The Director said once again, his tone laced with disrespect. He continued to stare down at Six.

"Why have your Agents question me about my identity if you already know?" Six questioned, looking into the Directors glasses.

"Your identity is need to know and I'm the only one that truly needs to know who you are. And I know all about you Noble Six." The Director answered. Though he did not really answer Six's question. Why would he want to keep his Agents in the dark? Would it not benefit the Freelancer team from knowing his profile? This only led Six to ask himself what other things did the Agents not know. "Have you actually taken the time to ask yourself why you've been tasked with taking me down?"

"The canyon, Red vs Blue, I didn't want to believe it but you're using real people as training. You have them all believing they enlisted in the UNSC. I've read the file. I know why I'm here to kill you." Six answered swiftly, his eyes as sharp as daggers. He was not one to get entirely emotional but these actions were beyond criminal. They were infuriating.

The Director smiled a little, a smug smirk. "I see. So what they say about you Spartans is true. You're nothing more than attack dogs. They point you in a direction and you kill. No questions asked. I only came here Noble Six to see if you are as impressive as they say. And I have to admit I am utterly disappointed. You have no idea what you've stepped in the middle of." The Director turned and walked towards the door, opening it swiftly and stepping out. Leaving Six alone.

With the Spartan alone with his ow thoughts, he couldn't help but think about his conversation with the Director. What was the purpose? Why did he say all of those things? He doubted there was any meaning behind them. Probably some form of mental torture, to get him to say something against the Office so he could use it as ransom. It wouldn't be entirely impossible or the most stupid strategy. But surely he would have known that it wouldn't work on someone as trained as him? Maybe there was something else. Something that he missed. Maybe he just wanted him to doubt, to question, to make mistakes. That seemed more likely.

Or maybe not.

The redheaded leader of team Freelancer looked down at her watch, it currently reads half past midnight. Carolina had been training in the simulation room of the Mother of Invention almost all day. Straight from the moment, she had forced her way out of the medical center into the training room. She had spent almost her entire day training, pushing herself to be faster, stronger, better, and yet all of the numbers read that she got no better maybe even a little worse.

After a shower, she changed into something different and walked aimlessly through the halls of the MOI. Recently she had plenty of trouble sleeping, too many things to think about, and found herself trying to force those thoughts out of her mind by walking. Usually, she hoped that training for that long would force her to crash but right now her mind was on overdrive.

Ever since they had returned from capturing Reaper a couple of days ago she had been none stop thinking about that situation. Carolina, the team leader, had been left out on the mission and used as bait to lure him into a trap. When did her team start leaving her out of missions? When did she not get the chance to brief them and do it together? Despite the constant reminders from her teammates that the intention of the mission was not that, or how they all thought she was in on it, she couldn't get those other thoughts out of her head.

Honestly, it just pissed her off.

Now she just had a hard time speaking with them. Even the ones she considered close like York, North, and the others. She just felt like they left her out on purpose, and used her. Why? Was it because she lost to both Texas and Reaper? Was it because they lost faith in her? Did they think she wasn't strong enough? Damn, it just kept making her angrier and angrier. She had given her all for this damn Project, to prove herself only for them to doubt her? Who were they?

Why did he doubt her?

Carolina took a deep breath and calmed down as much as she could. Looking down at her leg, she looked over the bandage that was wrapped around her leg. Once again she had lost to him, utterly defeated. That was twice he had proven better than her. Not that she should be surprised. He was a damn Spartan, a super soldier weapon made to kill. He was the perfect soldier. That didn't mean it didn't piss her off. How is that fair for her?

How?

Her green eyes looked up at the signs in the hallway. Telling her where she was. She had aimlessly walked down to the lower levels of the ship. She knew why. Their prisoner was here. She wanted to go visit him. So she walked, turning the corner and walking into his room. Standing on the other side of the glass that separated his cell and the room she stood in.

Her eyes looked over his body. He was bloody, beaten, and cut. Yet, he remained in his position, unmoving. Not screaming in pain, no sign of begging to be released. He breathed in and out, acting as if nothing happened to him. This was the Spartan super soldier. The perfect weapon used in their great war against the Covenant. Carolina's Mother used to tell her stories about these guys. The heroes of the UNSC. The way they could save the day and finish the mission every time.

Carolina bit her bottom lip, clenching her fist. How was it fair? How was it fair that now she not only had to deal with Texas but also this guy? This guy beat both her and Texas! How was she supposed to compete with that? She had given everything to be the best but these two just did it without trying. No matter what she did! She trained harder than anyone, studied harder than anyone, maybe if she had taken her A.I instead of giving it to Maine then maybe. . .

No that wasn't fair. Maine needed it and she didn't. She didn't need an A.I to be better she just had to keep pressing. She just had to find another way. She looked up at the Spartan chained to the wall. How did they do it? She knew they were enhanced but Texas wasn't. So how did they do it?

Then her mind scrambled an answer together. She knew what it was. This guy wasn't human. He was a tool, a weapon, a merciless killer. She always thought she was being the best for her team, and for her friends, so she could protect them but this guy didn't care about the team. He had no friends. He just did what he was told and did it to the best he could. He shot when told, he killed when told, and he was the perfect soldier. No questions asked.

Maybe that is what she needed to become. A weapon with one goal. If she could beat Texas, if she could beat this guy she would finally be the best. She would have everything. She would do anything.

Carolina narrowed her eyes at the Spartan chained to the wall. She would win. She had to. It was her right, she earned it.

She wouldn't stop.

Six didn't know how long it had been since the Director had visited him. With his eyes closed and his head hanging, he tried his best to keep his mind off time. That was the best way to ensure that the hours didn't drag. At least as much as he could. With his body screaming from pain, hunger, and dehydration, even for a Spartan it was tough not to think of everything going wrong. But, it was only a matter of time before he continued with his plan to escape and kill the Director. Now that he knew he was here he could finish this finally.

Right now it was just up to him to save all the strength he could. From all the information he gathered there were two guards outside. He didn't know if they had guns or not in case someone did escape so finding a weapon would be his priority. Next would be his armor, the longer it took for him to get out of there the more time they had to probably get the technical information from his suit. His Spartan armor was a valued asset. He wouldn't leave the MOI without it.

Of course, there was so much more he had to worry about. Without his armor, he would be more vulnerable. Easier to find and kill. He would have to be careful.

His planning was once again interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Six looked up again, this time expecting Maine once more to come into the room and begin the beatings once more. But that was not the case. This time it was another Agent in brown armor with white shoulder pads. His memory told him this was Agent Connecticut. There was no defining information about her. Meaning she didn't seem to be one of the Project's top ten Agents.

So what was she doing here?

"Don't worry," She said walking towards Six. "We're completely dark in this room right now. The cameras are playing on a loop. Other than the two guards in the front, no one knows I'm here. Which means we can speak freely." She said stopping in front of Six. She reached into a compartment in her armor and pulled out a card, a key to the chains that held him to the wall. "We need to talk Spartan,"

Six narrowed his eyes at the Agent. What was her play here? Another trick with the Director to get him to spill information?

"I don't have a lot of time so listen carefully. I think we can help each other, so I'm here to make a deal with you." C.T said which got Six to turn his head slightly. "I can get you out of here, which I'm sure you probably were planning to do on your own so I have something else. For months I have been feeding information from Project Freelancer to allies of mine. Dark information, deep information of Project Freelancer that is safeguarded here on the Mother of Invention. Knowing what I know now, I know I'm on the wrong side. I also know you have contact with the Office of Naval Intelligence. I am willing to give you this information, in turn giving the information to them, if you give me something in return."

So Project Freelancer has a mole. If Agent Connecticut was telling the truth then this was a good opportunity for her. It was believable. Six wasn't entirely sure if the information she had on Freelancer was any different than what the Office had but on the off chance it was, it would prove useful. Though, a part of Six figured his mission wasn't able collecting information but about killing the Director. Yet. . .something else was saying maybe there was something there. Something he should look into.

Six nodded his head. He was willing to hear what she wanted.

"I need protection, insurance. Once I steal this information and break you out of here all of Project Freelancer will come for me. I refuse to go burning with the rest of them so I want out. You get me to my allies I will give you this information." C.T kneeled down in front of Six and showed him the key to his restraints once more. Her two lenses pieces of her helmet reflected his own face. "Deal?"

"Deal."

And that is it, everyone. Once again sorry for the late update but here is one. Things are getting interesting and I had some motivation to get this story going. Some interesting developments with Texas, Carolina, and Six so the next couple of chapters will hopefully start to wrap up the Freelancer Arc and get us set up for something new! The Reds and Blues will be in here so we will get a blood glutch era! Thank you so much for the reviews, remember to let me know what you think, I love hearing from you guys. I read the reviews to get some motivation and that is what is bringing me back after all this time. I also love hearing your theories so please continue! Thank you so much everyone see you soon. Hopefully.