Ch.3: Alpha 1

A.N.:

This is where Becket meets Alpha 1 for the second time (the first being in The Inferior Soldier).

To say that the trip to the intersection was uncomfortable would be the biggest understatement I could have possibly used to describe it. To me, it felt like every atom in my body was twisted through the fabric of time and space before being reassembled to form my body. As we rematerialized, I collapsed onto my knees and vomited. In an instant, Alma was at my side with her arms around my neck. She hummed with a vibrating and soft voice. Her efforts prevailed as I managed to fight off the urge to vomit again. I crocked out, "I'm okay. I'm good."

Her head was so close to my face that I could feel her frigid breath rhythmically wafting against my right cheek. That, combined with the sensation of her cold bare skin against my neck was unbelievably intoxicating. I had to slowly push her away to keep my baser instincts in check. I scolded my body for even reacting in such a manner. I was a Delta Force operative, a beacon of morality and self-sacrifice, not some horny teenager. Still, her touch seemed to reignite feelings that I had long since suppressed to near extinction. When I joined the military, I decided that since affection was what my father showed me then I wanted nothing to do with it.

I shook my head again as I stood. Now was not the time or place to have an identity crisis. The intersection had been ravaged by the fallout from the Origin Facility explosion like the other sections of the city that I had battled through. The familiar building debris blanketed the once bustling streets and even this far from ground zero, the silent memorials of the innocent residents caught in the shockwave dotted the sidewalks frozen in the posture the individual was in when they died.

I saw a transparent figure observe me from down the street before it vanished in a puff of energy. Alma asked me quietly, "Do you see?"

I nodded before I replied, "Yes. I have been seeing them all over the city. What are they?" I turned to her as I issued my question.

She seemed to ponder the question for a moment before she said with her mind, "Residual psychic signatures. Ghost imprints of energy. They hate me. I cause them pain when I am near." I had suspected that she had something to do with their appearance. Her torture-stemmed rage corrupted anything that was exposed to it.

I heard an approaching helicopter, and quickly led my companion to the entrance of the garage. Since I knew Morales, I knew better than to simply knock on the sliding metal door. I said into my com link, "Morales, I am at the main entrance. Open the door. Hurry, a helicopter is coming." I did not receive an answer but the door slowly opened just enough allow us access. I motioned for Alma to go first so he would not close the door in her face. I followed closely behind her and the door closed mere seconds after I squeezed through the access point.

The smell of grease and other mechanical lubricants was thick in the air, which caused me to surmise that the place had been a service garage before the blast. I saw the APC in the center of the small space at the end of the ramp with the front of it facing the garage entrance. A workstation with various tools sat to the right of it.

Morales noticed Alma first but I was surprised to see him smile at her. He even bent down and ruffled her raven hair as he questioned in a playful tone, "And who are you?" I had been so accustomed to her constant presence that it took me a minute to remember that Manny had probably never even seen Alma before now.

I asked him, "Wait, you can see her?" He looked away from a laughing Alma, who was straightening her hair where he had ruffled it, to look at me.

His smile faded and he said with confusion, "Becket, your eyes are different man. Are you all right? What happened to you?"

I questioned him, "My eyes? What about them?"

He seemed to be having difficulty thinking of a way to explain and simply replied, "They're…well, like her eyes."

I shot Alma a quick glance and she simply smiled innocently. I said, "I'm fine. Just a little worse for wear. That's all."

He smiled and turned back to Alma as he asked, "So, who is your friend and why should I not be able to see her?"

After thinking through my options, I decided that the direct approach was the only way to handle the question. With a flat, calm voice, I replied, "Alma Wade."

His reaction was what I had expected. In an instant, the whole atmosphere changed from lighthearted to tense. Before things could get out of hand, I placed myself in front of her.

I raised my left hand up and flattened it so my palm was facing him as I said, "I can explain."

He interrupted me as he said in shock, "Becket, are you out of your mind? She is the mother of the apocalypse!"

I said calmly, "Easy. Look, we can sort this all out later. Right now, we need to deal with Armacham. Manny, can you get me a secure link to command?"

He gave me a worried look. I asked him, "What?"

With an expression I had never seen before, he responded, "Command has…"

I sighed and cut him off as I angrily muttered, "Left us hanging out to dry." He nodded in response. I had anticipated my superiors leaving me stranded after the explosion but it still felt like a betrayal.

I thought quickly and decided what I had to do. I looked at Morales and addressed him with a serious tone, "Manny, I know how you feel about your job but the fact is that we are officially on our own. Whatever we do now, we do it off the record. Someone has to make Armacham pay for their crimes and it sure as shit is not going to be an official operation that does it. No, they have an enormous legal division standing by to protect them from legal action. They have a public relations division that has already decided how they are going to cover up this mess. Not to mention the fact that they are a major defense contractor, which means that the U.S. Government is going to look the other way while those bastards get away with everything. I understand if you do not want to join me in this, but I am not going to let them get away with what I have learned about them or what they have done to me. By God if it kills me, I am going to take that company down. Are you with me?"

I extended my right hand and waited to see if he would shake it. For a brief second, I worried as Morales acted as if he would back away. However, he stopped and instead he reached forward. With a single nod of his head, he shook my hand.

Alma, realizing that I had successfully secured her safety, put her tiny soft right hand in my gloved left hand. I looked down at her. As I gazed into her hopeful glowing eyes, I finally realized that I was no match for her. She captivated me without even trying. Her touch stimulated untapped desires that I would rather keep suppressed. Even now, I knew that her presence was changing me and even as the majority of me was terrified at what I would become, part of me was thrilled at the prospect.

Perhaps, as much as I wanted to deny it, I really was just like her. Maybe at heart, I was still that little boy who was angry at the world for all the pain I had been put through. For making me suffer through all those sleepless nights that I hid in my closet so my father could not find me. Not that any of my efforts were ever enough because he always did find me. Not even a fractured jaw, compound fracture of my right arm, and two cracked ribs were enough to get me out of that house. Only important children were cared about.

I scolded myself for allowing such thoughts. I said to the raven-haired girl with my mind, "Stop using my past against me." She frowned in confusion. I snapped at her, "You know exactly what you are doing."

A look of understanding entered her expression and she gently squeezed my hand as she explained, "My presence. Don't mean to hurt. Sorry."

Before I could respond, Morales grasped my left shoulder to get my attention. When I looked at him, he asked, "Becket man. Are you okay? You zoned out." I nodded in response. He said, "It is a huge company with more resources and personnel than we could ever possibly hope to match. How do you plan on taking it down?"

I smirked before I replied, "Easy, from the top down. We take out the major players, and the company will consume itself with infighting. After that, we eliminate the remaining shards."

Morales frowned a bit before he questioned, "I don't know man. That is a lot of people to find and we don't know who most of them are nor do we have the people to do it with. Even if we could find the information, it is just the two of us and one APC."

Smiling, I added, "Correction, we have her." I pointed to Alma as I finished my humorous statement. When Morales looked at her, she smiled brightly and waved with her free hand. My lighthearted comment managed to release the tension in the air and even caused Morales to laugh softly.

After approximately a minute of relief, Morales said in a serious tone, "I have no doubt she is capable of being a great asset but she is still one person…or ghost. Becket, we need a small army for what you are planning."

I could not help but having a cocky tone when I replied, "Yes and I know exactly where to get one."

Deciphering my statement, my friend said in an exasperated tone, "You cannot be serious. The fucking Replicas? For real?"

I replied, "Yes, I am serious. We have seen them in action when they are organized."

Morales, after rubbing his eyes, explained, "We do not know how to control them. Not to mention the main issue, which is, we do not have a psychic commander. I mean, that was the whole concept for them in the first place. A group of puppet soldiers that gave a commander first hand eyes on the battlefield. They are glorified intelligence gatherers."

I pointed at myself as I said, "Got that covered. Trial and error should fix the other issue. Face it Manny, it is the Replicas or we do this alone. No one has seen or heard from the F.E.A.R. team since the explosion and the remaining SFOD-D teams are scattered. Besides, from what I have seen, they are definitely more than intelligence gatherers. I would even go so far as to say that they are equal in training and ability to Special Ops."

Morales smiled slightly before he commented, "If it had been anyone else who came up with this crazy plan, I would have walked away. All right man, since you are so convinced this will work, I am with you. Who knows, we might not even get sent to Gitmo after we get arrested for terrorism."

I pointed at him and remarked sarcastically, "Appreciate the enthusiasm." Then in a serious tone, I said, "Stay here and watch the APC. I am going to go see if I can locate some Replicas. You wouldn't happen to have any spare clips would you?"

He shook his head before he replied apologetically, "No man sorry. As I said, ATC attacked in force. I held them as long as I could."

I waved my hand dismissively before I said, "Don't be sorry. It is fine. I am sure the ATC mercs and Replicas will have plenty of ammunition. You would not happen to still have your kit with you would you? I lost mine when I was kidnapped after the explosion."

Puzzled he stated, "Yeah, why? Do you need it?" I nodded and he went into the APC for a minute before returning with the bundle. He handed it to me and after taking it, I walked over to the workstation next to the APC. I cleared a space and set the kit down.

After rummaging through the items, I located the gas mask. I placed it over my face and adjusted the straps so the black rubber filter mask was properly fitted to my head. Confused, Morales asked me, "Why are you wearing a gas mask?" Pocketing a few spare filters, I turned to face him.

With my voice distorted by the respirator, I answered, "I just escaped from ATC. I am going to avoid encountering them as best I can for now but if I do have to engage them, I do not want them to immediately recognize me and call in my location." I looked back at Alma, who was standing just a few inches away from the front of the APC and was examining the armored vehicle with a look of curiosity, and said to get her attention, "Alma." She quickly turned her head to look at me and smiled back. After returning the smile, I asked, "You ready?" I motioned to the door as I finished my question. She transported to the door in response.

I made my way for the door and when I reached it, Morales asked, "How will you communicate without a HUD?"

I turned to face him and said, "The old fashion way. Toss me one of those walkie talkies." He picked up the black handheld device and tossed it to me. I caught it and took note of the channel it was on before clipping it to my belt. I informed him, "I am on Channel 3. Do not call me unless ATC is breaking down the door." He picked up the second device and switched it to the right channel before nodding. I turned back around to face the door. Sliding it open just enough for us to exit, I motioned for her to go first. I followed closely behind her and I heard the door close soon after I squeezed through the opening.

Alma looked at me expectantly and I tilted my head sideways in curiosity. She said in my mind, "First lesson. Can you sense any of them?" I felt something, I could not properly interpret the feeling, but I did sense something nearby.

I said nervously, "I sense something. I cannot tell where though. I know whatever it is, it is nearby."

I looked at her to see how I did. She nodded approvingly and said in an encouraging tone, "Good for a first try. Replicas. That way." She pointed in the direction we had to go. We made our way down the rubble-strewn street.

As we neared the next intersection, I felt a peculiar change in the air. It felt cold, like something very threatening was coming. I stopped in concern. I looked around and realized that Alma had disappeared. Audibly cursing, I found a square corner of an office building to wait and try to ambush whatever it was. As I pressed myself up against the rough wall, I wondered if Alma had been frightened by the approaching threat. That thought terrified me. She was a supernatural being with near invincibility and the power to liquefy the flesh right off an individual with a single thought. What could she possibly fear? If she was afraid, then I was probably not going to fair too well against it.

I observed a squad of Replicas retreating, or more like running for their lives, from something that was chasing them. My head started to throb mercilessly and I had to bite my lip to prevent giving away my position by making noise. In my mind, I suddenly heard a panic filled Alma beg me, "No Michael! Run! He is coming! Please run away!" Her warning came too late and I saw what terrified her.

A pale, skinny, humanoid creature with a deformed body and a mouth instead of a face was chasing the fleeing soldiers. They made it to the center of the intersection before the monstrosity reached them. The white helmeted Replica Heavy Trooper swiveled around and attempted to engage the pale figure so his brethren could make it to safety. However, as he fired his first round from his automatic shotgun, the thing's left front hand sliced clean through the shotgun and the trooper was thrown backwards onto the ground. The Replica hit the ground hard and even rolled several feet in the direction he was thrown.

The monster left the downed trooper and continued chasing the other Replicas. They did not live long enough to know what happened to them. I watched horrified as the thing merciless butchered the defenseless clone soldiers. He sliced two of their heads off, cut another in half straight down the center, and cut the last one in half at the waist. The thing uttered a weird noise as he seemed to observe his handy work.

The downed Replica had recovered and stood to face the murderer of his squad. He threw a frag grenade at the monster as he uttered with fury, "Die motherfucker!" The thing seemed to face in the trooper's direction at the sound of his yell and simply bated the grenade back at its master. The grenade exploded mere inches from the Replica's face and he was sent back onto his back by the force of the explosive.

Convinced that he had killed the trooper, the monster disappeared in a cloud of ash. As it did, I conjured a name in my mind: Harlan Wade. There was no reason or cause that had prompted me to think that name. I knew with certainty however, that the monster I had just seen was indeed some twisted representation of Harlan Wade. Just another one of Alma's apparitions, but she was afraid of it. I had no doubt that it would be a formidable foe to fight, especially considering that it was not under the influence of Alma herself.

I noticed that the Replica Heavy Trooper was still moving and was even getting to its feet. The grenade had knocked out the trooper's right glowing eye and left spider web cracks on his helmet. I was shocked that the Replica had survived the encounter and was able to move under his own power. I moved off the wall and called out, "Trooper, are you alright?" His head jerked to face me and for a second, I thought he was going to pull out his pistol to engage me. However, I relaxed when he instead saluted me.

After he dropped his hand, he addressed me, "Sir, awaiting your orders." I walked over to him cautiously as I feared a return appearance of the monster.

When I neared him, I asked, "Do you have a name trooper?"

With an emotionless tone, he replied, "Sir, I do not understand the question." His response made me wonder if ATC had simply programmed the Replicas to respond to basic military statements.

Curious, I ordered him, "Sound off."

My suspicions seemed to be confirmed as he responded, "Alpha 1 here sir." I knew I could get the commands down quickly now that I knew what the Replicas had been programmed to respond to.

I ordered him, "Alpha 1, sitrep."

He replied, "Alpha squad has sustained heavy casualties by an unidentified hostile. Alpha 2-5 have been killed. Primary mission objective to eliminate Foxtrot 813 has not been achieved."

Understandably confused, I asked, "Who the fuck is Foxtrot 813?"

I heard a soft voice behind me whisper, "Paxton's puppet." I turned and saw Alma in her child form. I was stunned to see that she seemed to have been crying.

I asked, "Are you okay? What happened?"

She started to say something and instead turned to face away as if she was ashamed. I walked up behind her and gently turned her to face me again. She seemed devastated by what had occurred. The powerful goddess had completely vanished and a scared, vulnerable child was left in its place. I knelt down and pulled her into a light hug. She cried quietly as she snuggled her head against my neck. I was beyond enlightened. I had the wrong idea about my tormentor up until that moment. My experiences with my father had caused me to become assertive but her abuse had done the polar opposite to her.

I whispered to her, "Alma, you do not need to be afraid anymore. Your father is dead. I watched you kill him. He does not have any power over you anymore. It's okay. Calm down." I rocked her while I rubbed her upper back with my right hand and the back of her head with my left hand.

After a few minutes, she whispered in a broken, almost sobbing voice, "No. My anger and fear are all that kept me here. Without him, I am nothing."

The more I delved into her broken psyche, the more she won my heart.

I moved her so I was looked into her eyes when I said, "You are not nothing. Do not think you are. Alma, you literally defied death. You did. Not him. He did not do that. It was you who did. You do not need him and he never deserved you."

She shook her head and then barely whispered, "Without him, I do not have a reason to stay here."

I shook her firmly and then lectured, "Alma, snap out of it! Yes you do. You have plenty of reasons to stay here. What about your children? What about your new daughter? Doesn't she deserve a good life? Do you really think Armacham is just going to stop ruining people's lives? Don't you want to see them suffer for what they did to you, your children, and all of the other innocent people? Alma, they treated you like a rat; like a monster. What if they take your daughter just like they did to your other children? Of all people, you know most about what they will do to her." I seemed to get through to her as she nodded and her helpless demeanor was replaced with the familiar festering anger and brutality.

I slowly lowered her to the ground. She looked back up at me with an expression I had never seen before. She was smiling but it was not sinister, lustful, or even her usual creepy smile. She was just smiling. I smiled back before turning to face the Replica. Alpha 1 had retrieved one of his fallen brethren's assault rifle and was observing his surroundings as if he was guarding Alma and I. The other assault rifles were still where they had fallen and I scavenged the clips from them. After unloading the clips and then reloading the bullets, I had two full clips to work with. I loaded one clip into my own assault rifle and pocketed the other.

I said to Alpha 1, "Disregard primary mission object. New orders: Form on me and provide fire support."

He replied, "Orders confirmed. Forming up sir." He moved closer to me but continued his sweep of our surroundings.

I turned back to Alma and said, "Let's see if we can find an intact group of them. On the way, explain to me who Foxtrot 813 is."