Chapter 29: Operation Wordplay
"If I'd shot you when I wanted to, I'd be out by now" Corporal Steve Newmark said, adjusting the press of his sniper rifle into his shoulder as he kept the scope to his eye.
"I'll give you that one" Corporal Lydia Richardson replied, peering through her binoculars as she lay prone on the rooftop beside him. "You're the reason our kids are so ugly"
"Very good" Newmark replied, easing his grip on his rifle as he allowed the feeling to return to his fingers. "Does this shotgun barrel look clogged to you?"
"I still miss you darling, but my aims getting better" Richardson countered.
"Can you draw me a map, because I keep getting lost in your eyes" Newmark said.
"Nah, that wouldn't work" Richardson replied. "It's too sentimental"
"It depends on how you interpret it" Newmark objected. "Either it's because he finds her beautiful, making it sentimental. Or, he can't make sense of what she's hiding from him and it comes back around to being tragic again"
"I still say the other one was better" Richardson said.
"And I still disagree" Newmark responded.
"You can disagree all you want" Richardson replied. "But I still say it's better"
"Sierra-5" Central Officer Bradford cut in over the radio. "Target is moving west on Dunbar street, are you in position?"
"Central, Sierra-5" Richardson acknowledged. "Settle a bet. Which works better as a Country & Western song title 'I've Got One Day to Live and You're Saying Not Tonight' or 'I Never Knew my Mother, she Left Before I was Born'"
"Sierra-5" Bradford cut in, an additional hint of frustration to his voice. "Confirm positive ID on the target package"
"Target- oh shit!" Richardson quickly brought the binoculars back up to scan the road beneath them. Richardson brought the binoculars into focus just in time to see the truck come barrelling down the road towards them.
"Eyes on target" Richardson announced. "Approaching at high speed, wind light and variable and no civilian presence"
"Sierra-5, target is to be taken alive" Bradford instructed. "Bring the vehicle to a controlled stop and secure-"
A shot rang out from Newmarks rifle. The bullet struck the trucks right front wheel, the tyre exploding in an upwash of disintegrating rubber. The truck veered across one side of the road, tearing along a line of parked cars before swerving back across to impact the wall of the building. The stop was almost instantaneous.
Looking down on the scene of destruction on the street below, strewn with debris and with car horns blaring, Richardson looked across at her partner and asked, "Do you think Centrals going to be mad at us?"
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"Ditcher, Quick and Hyde Divorce Lawyers" Corporal Simon May offered.
"A Detective Agency headed by a guy named Staker" Corporal Rhys Able replied as they continued their patrol past the Alien Containment labs. "Need to track someone down? Ask for PI Staker"
"What about a logging company based on the edge of the Arctic Circle" May replied. "Shiver Me Timbers"
A low alarm began to sound in the background of their conversation. The alarm always sounded for a few moments prior to the research staff starting their interrogation of a captured subject.
"O'Brian, O'Brian & O'Brian, Attorneys at Law" Able said. "Your number one nepotism specialists"
"Snippet & Sons Discount Vasectomy" May replied. "A family business since 1908"
The Alien containment alarm continued to sound further down the corridor.
"Dewey, Cheetham, & Howe Lawyers" Able offered. "Wait, shouldn't that alarm have stopped by now?"
"What do you mean?" May asked. "It always sounds when they're about to go to work"
"Yeah, but only for a few seconds" Able replied. "Otherwise that means-"
Looking down the corridor they could see a Sectoid moving into view. The stunted creature stopped in its tracks as it stared back at them, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments. The creature scurried off into an adjoining corridor like a startled animal.
"Crap" May cursed as he and Able made hast after it.
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"Ok, a horror movie set in a 24-hour supermarket" Technician Fredrick Knight offered, leaning back in his seat as he stared half interested at the display in front of him. "The poster is a grisly scene on an automated checkout machine with the tagline 'Unexpected Item in the Bagging Area'"
"Stop, or my Gran will shoot!" Technician Suki Kururugi replied in return. "OAPs take over the neighbourhood watch armed with surplus police equipment after the local council trials a new law and order drive"
Kururugi idly scanned her cursor across the screen, the readout from the satellites little more than a never-ending constellation of lights on the display. Working in XCOM satellite surveillance used to be a high-pressure environment. But since the strike team had taken out the alien base the scope had remained blissfully quiet.
"A virus infects people into a mindless killing frenzy which causes them to laugh uncontrollably" Knight said. "Call it 'Jest Infection'. The tagline, 'It's no laughing matter'"
"A 3-hour feature 'The History of Progressive Rock'" Kururugi mused. "Brought to you by the Geological Society"
"A film about a murderous flight simulator" Knight said. "A group of engineering students build a full-scale flight simulator from the wreck of a plane. Turns out the aircraft is inhabited by the vengeful spirit of the pilot who died in the crash who forces people to relive the same crash over and over again"
"Why do all your ideas involve people dying horribly?" Kururugi asked.
"Write what you know" Knight joked. "You know, there was this one guy on the strike team who went on a mission in a factory. He fell into a load of machinery and his whole body went through a hole the size of a dogs-"
The alien detection alarm sounded through the control room. Knight and Kururugi checked the display in front of them, the regular flash on the scope representing an unknown contact entering the upper atmosphere.
"Satellite Control to Operations" Knight accessed the base communication system. "We've detected a contact on the scope. Transmitting coordinates now"
"Roger Satellite control" the operator replied. "Operations to Flight Control. LAUNCH, LAUNCH, LAUNCH"
The thunderous roar tore through the base. A few tense moments of silence passed.
"DEMON-2 launch sequence complete" the interceptor pilot emerged onto the shared COM. "All systems green. Target lock, advancing to intercept speed"
"Roger DEMON-2" Kururugi acknowledged, observing as the interceptor emerged onto the satellites viewscreen. "I have you on scope, six seconds to intercept" Knight and Kururugi watched as the two contacts converged on eachother.
"DEMON-2, you should be seeing the target coming into view now" Knight relayed to the pilot.
"DEMON-2, Control I'm not seeing any alien contacts" the pilot announced. "Just an old weather balloon"
Kururugi looked across at Knight. "Did you remember to authenticate the contact before relaying it to Ops?"
Knight looked across at his colleague with a profound sense of realisation written across his face. This was going to take some explaining.
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"I Thought this was Speed Dating" Flight Lieutenant Patrick Gunther said as he rechecked the flight display in front of him.
"I am Smarticus" Air Traffic Controller Fernando Rodrigues replied.
It was always like this on these types of flights. Launch from the facility, ascend to the pre-determined altitude, set the autopilot and wait. Such were the realities of transferring one of the most advanced fighter aircraft humanity had ever created to another facility. The reality was the same for the XCOM Air Traffic Controller on the ground monitoring his progress.
"University Challenged" Gunther said.
"Our Drinking Team Has A Trivia Problem" Rodrigues replied.
"Quizzy McQuizface" Gunter offered.
"What does that mean?" Rodrigues asked. "How do you get that for a Pub Quiz team name?"
"You haven't heard that one?" Gunther asked. "Well it's a play on this news story which came out a while ago about-"
"Unidentified aircraft, this is the Columbian Airforce" a voice interjected over the radio. "You have made an authorised entry into Columbian Airspace. Identify yourself"
"XCOM ATC, what's going on?" Gunther asked. "Did they not get the alert we were coming?"
"Mierda!" Rodrigues cursed. "I knew there was something I meant to do"
XCOM Rule 629: Personnel are not permitted to play word games while on duty.
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More Country and Western song titles:
I'm still Hungover from Drinking the Lake of Fire
Roasting Marshmallows on a Burning Ring of Fire
She Drove Down to the Scrapyard and Crushed All My Hope
My Wife Should be a Professional Basketball Player because she Slam Dunked My Heart
