The 99th Platoon – The FlatFeet Saga
Act One: Total War


(A/N The first three-part mission ever and the first successful string we'd had in a while. This was a sort of revival after we had fallen into the pits for some time. It'll be long but frankly as a whole it was one of the best. Now for the basics: Acts 1 and 2 were started by 00 "PatrickSim" Oreos and the third and final act was started by myself. If you want to use any non-BFD related media from any of the three parts you have to ask either Oreos or myself. Don't let me see this or any other story anywhere other than fanfiction.net. I have permission to re-write this mission in a readable fashion by all the troops involved, each and every one of which contributed towards the fulfilment of this mission. I think that's all. Well then. Here goes nothing.)

Chapter 1: The Saga begins

"Listen up you piece of ****!"
"Hey!" Pyst yelled. "We don't work for you any more, remember?!"
"Pyst!"
Pyst's rougher-than-usual visage locked into Oreos' gaze.
The Disbanding had been tough on all of them, none so more than Oreos. It was hard enough trying to find those that he could for one meeting with their former employers, let alone try to convince them to come. For once he had even left a bit of a beard. It didn't suit him, but razors were more of a luxury nowadays.

Pyst missed the heyday…the golden moments…the rush of battle. Civilian life was eating away at him. He couldn't take it much more… He imagined most of the others were going through the same thing. He hadn't heard from Sarge in a little under a year, and the Platoon had never managed to gather again without arguing, getting into a fistfight or, sadly, completing a mission.

"Am I interrupting something here?"

While most of them looked worse for wear, she still managed to look surprisingly stunning. Her fur with that soft brushing of lilac, her eyes with their crystal, intense gaze, she folded her arms and looked around at those in the room.
Oreos' heart lifted, as did that of all the former 99th. Deja's presence was always a mood lifter back in the day and seeing her once more stirred their thoughts…perhaps there was hope…perhaps there was still a chance. If this mission pulled them back together, Oreos thought, then it would be worth any risk…

Deja took a seat at the far end of the table. The foul-mouthed Major looked down at them.
"May we proceed?" He looked at Oreos, the second-in-command back when the 99th was at its peak. Oreos nodded.
"Just tell us why we're here Adass."

"I'm not going to lie to you. Before you left, you were the best we had. We've sent numerous battalions to clean up the latest mess, and all have failed. We need your squad, the 99th. It's right up your alley. Island; base; a chemical compound that needs retrieving and then a nice clean up job."
"Who's behind it?" CoolGuy asked. The most expensive article of clothing he had at the moment were his sunglasses… He needed some cash.
"While you guys were out of action someone got the old factories going…it's the Tediz."
"Again?" Mon asked. He had gone from surgery to surgery but all the positions were filled. His unemployment benefit was near spent for this month…and there were still two and a half weeks to go…

"We suspect your old acquaintance, The Commander, is pumping the units out from…somewhere." He stopped.
Cartman rubbed the side of his chin in a very good imitation of The Godfather.
"So you're telling us that you don't know where he is?"
"Is he with the Chemical?" FlatFeet asked. FlatFeet still wore his wedding ring, even though Cherry had…vanished…all those nights ago…

"Most probably not… We'll address him in the future. Right now our priority is the Chemical."
"What is this 'Chemical' known as?" Stealth asked. His blade…his ivory handled glittering goddess… He was forced to pawn it to make some cash… Perhaps he could ask the Agency to get it back…
"Chemical X," the Major replied.

Squeaky scoffed a laugh. Squeaky was perhaps the least changed of the lot. He still looked, dirty, dusty and short.
RedStorm stared at the Major with his icy blue eyes. He was out of shape and his staff motion was turning slowly away from graceful and more towards clunky. A mission would be perfect right about now…

"Look, you do this for us and you'll get 15 grand each…"

An uproar started around the table.
Ricy stood up.
"I make more begging on the streets!"
Everyone turned to look at the snowy white Hawk.
"Uhh…metaphorically."

Disregarding Ricy's peculiar outburst Oreos turned to face the Major.
"We're talking 300 grand each here or none of us show."
"On one condition."
"Name it."
"We get to send a predetermined soldier in with you."
"Fine. Do we know him?"
There was a pause as the Major passed a photograph down the line towards Oreos.
"No. Conker's loosening up the ground force entrance conditions, says we need various kinds of troops. We've now had a flood of new troops from all over trying to join the Windy Army Corps. You should see the variety. It's really something…"
"And he is?"
"He's a Hedgehog from the Woods over to the East. They make great sprinters."
"Ok. We'll take him. Do we get paid upon delivery?"
"Of course."

Everyone turned to Oreos.
Deja smiled inwardly. Sarge had made a good choice with Oreos as the second-in-command. He'd be taking on the squad alone for the first time. It was a big step.
Oreos looked at her.
"I'm not Sarge…"
"There's a saying Oreos…" said Deja, "It goes: You're only as good as the people you hire. Wherever he is, believe me when I say that he'd be right behind whatever decision you make, regardless of the outcome."
Deja had said just the right thing at the right time…it was her gift.

He stood up, pausing to reflect on something Sarge had told him a little before the Disbanding.

"Remember what I'm about to tell you Oreos… The final test of a leader is that he leaves behind him in other men the will and conviction to carry on…"

*!BANG!*

The door to the abandoned building the Agency had picked out for the brief burst open, a vicious wind whipping through. The wind lashed at the leather coat, causing it to flutter and hiss in the breeze.
Dark smiled a toothy grin.
"I'm in."

Oreos looked at the Platoon. He smiled then looked up at the Major, his face hardened.
"That goes for all of us."

***

"I haven't been here in a long time…" Oreos whispered to no one, passing his paw along the wall as he walked down the all too familiar corridors. His boots clicked along the linoleum, walking of their own accord with an almost mechanical action, taking Oreos back to the section of the Agency actually given to the 99th Platoon in their transfer from the regular Corps.

::C-Lab::

The swing doors to the laboratory creaked loudly with disuse as Oreos forced his way back into Chael's pride and joy.
The lab, once bursting with motion, energy and creation now lay dusty and abandoned, the experiments cleared, the monitors packed away…
Oreos remembered the long nights Chael would spend in the lab, with WWW occasionally stopping by to lend a hacking hand.

"It's a crying shame isn't it?"
Oreos spun round on his heel. Chael sat on one of the cleared desks; his legs crossed tightly, his arms folded across his chest. Removing his wrap-around shades he gazed at Oreos with his characteristic pink-red eyes.
"I thought you wouldn't show."
Chael hopped down off of the desk and walked to face Oreos.
"I wasn't going to."
Silence.
"You need a shave…" said Chael, his mouth twisting into a smirk. Oreos ran his fingers along his chin.
"Yeah. I know."
They laughed and shook hands.
"Where the hell have you been?"
"Studying…I'm now a PhD."
Oreos whistled, impressed.
"In what?" he asked.
"Physics: Physical, Energetic and Metaphysic."
"Did they tell you about it?"
"Yeah."
"What do you think?"
"We should be fine…they're good soldiers…"

Pyst grabbed a towel from within his locker, twisted it and proceeded to whip Ricy from afar, as Ricy pelted Pyst with bars of soap.
"Hey!" Cartman yelled out, soap suds stinging his eyes, "Who turned the water off?"
Squeaky and Mon struggled with each other's arms in an arm wrestle. A few notes were scattered beneath them as CoolGuy and RedStorm cheered them on.
Dark sat over a steam vent, a towel over his head, breathing in slow, controlled, breaths. Stealth sat next to him, leaning backwards against a wall.
Further off FlatFeet gazed, hypnotized at the photo taped to the back of his locker. It was a photo of Cherry and his wedding day… Unconsciously he began twisting the band of gold around his finger.
With a slight *crack* Pyst nailed Ricy with the towel.
"OW!"
He began cussing but very soon fell silent, as did the rest.
"Uhhh…Deja…this is the guys' locker room…"
CoolGuy stared at Deja, bare save for the towel wrapped tightly around her chest and abdomen.
"I know. The girls' is closed down for repairs."
Deja made her way over to one of the shower cubicles. Before locking the door, she turned to stare at the Platoon.
"Don't make me kick your ass."
"Why don't you kick my ass babe?" Ricy smirked.
Ricy saw the bar of soap point-three seconds before it smacked him squarely between his eyes. Deja shut the door and slid the latch across as Ricy held his head in pain.
"She must be working out…"

Chael pulled one of the cupboards open, a dust cloud emerging from within. He grabbed some equipment and spread it across the nearest table.
Keying in a fifteen-digit code on the pad under the table caused a panel to slide out from the back wall revealing Chael's old sniper rifle. He instantly went to work attaching the equipment he had removed to his sniper. A remote explosive launcher latched to the underside, an explosive clip slammed into the launcher and extra clips strapped over his shoulder. He slid into a Kevlar vest and whipped his backpack up over his shoulder.
"I'm ready to go."