Sub-Operation 002-1: 'Dead Men'


(Queue 'Gathering Intel' by Sarah Schachner)


"The deep-sea microphones have been set up around the site."

"Great, now start cordoning off the area, make sure you're dressed for the part. We're 'lakewater quality inspectors', and you better fahkin' remember that role! Dack, set up a surveillance point on the roof of this cabin, I want you there when we begin the Lure phase."

Clef was caught up in his position of command; Delegating each of the members to tasks for preparation in dealing with the threat that would come at night. Only a few hours had passed since the initial incident he'd witnessed, but he was renewed by an entirely newfound confidence in what he was doing.

Protecting this town, and its people, from the monstrous alien entity that lurked in the deep of this seemingly-innocent lakeview town.

He would put an end to this morbid affair.

"Vale, I want that aerial drone ready to operate by nightfall. Polly, since you're free for now, I need you to-"

"Clef, requesting your time for a moment."

Clef stopped speaking as he heard Alpha Six's voice coming through his radio. He responded quickly.

"Sure."

He left the team to their tasks, retreating into his room to hear what Alpha Six had to say.

"What is it?"

"I know that you are on a mission currently, and it is likely your plate is quite full right now, but there is another distress call I would urge you and the team to respond to."

"What do you mean?"

"Only a few minutes ago, one of my UAVs spotted an escaped convict breaking into a farmer's house in Powell County. He got into an altercation with the husband, killed him, and is now currently holding the wife and child at gunpoint."

Clef grit his teeth in indecision, before eventually pressing down on the radio button again.

"Where's this happenin'?"

"I'll send you the address, be sure to inform the others quickly and deploy."

"Fahk's sake… right, whateva. Keep me updated!"

"Will do."

Clef immediately put down the radio and began putting on his combat gear with haste; Every second that passed grew heavy on his conscience, knowing of the poor mother and daughter and being reminded of the man he failed to save from that sea monster. He threw open his door, shouting to the others.

"GET YOUR FAHKIN' GEAR ON, WE'RE DEPLOYING FOR A SEPARATE MISSION!"

There was a collectively loud groan that emitted from the main room of the lodge, shortly followed by the sounds of gear being equipped. Satisfied, Clef went for a separate burner phone, with their driver's phone number. He dialed up the number, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Yeah, what's up mate?"

"Get ready to head out."

"Fuck me, are you serious? I just bought a burger, and I found a bloody great view of the lake-"

"Charlie, it shouldn't be long."

"...FUCK'S sake. Fine! Let's get this fahkin' schtupid assignment done before the sun rises! I want to enjoy this night sky fer as long as I can."


Within the hour, the truck was heading rapidly towards the provided address, the members of the MTF team heavily armed and incredibly pissed- having heard the brief report Clef gave them, they were more than ready to exact vengeance on this lowlife.

Skrrch!

The truck came to a screeching halt in front of the house, and the team members poured out of the back, dropping down onto the grass and silently moving up towards the entrance of the two-story house; Dack snuck towards a distant hill to set up his sniper's nest, and Polly stacked by herself (ballistic shield and sidearm in hand) against the front door; Griz and Haiman moved swiftly towards the left side of the house, while Vale and Clef moved towards the right side. In unison, both pairs clung to the walls of the house, keeping their barrels downrange.

"AAAAHH-!"

BANG!


(Queue 'Captive' by Sarah Schachner)


That short, yet gut-wrenching scream, followed by a single gunshot, was enough evidence to rouse the team into a fit of anxiety and anger; They had conflicting feelings about acting as vigilante law when they themselves were hardcore criminals at one point or another in their lives. They were also deeply angry that they had to take the criminal alive, especially one that had killed someone minutes ago and was likely unstable.

But they were given a task. And they were paid well to do it.

"I'm gonna kill this hijo de la chingada-!" Vale hissed through her teeth, trying to psyche herself up. They were risking their lives for a capture.

"Quiet." Clef hushed her harshly, raising his shoulder radio. "And no the fuck you're not, mate. Pioneer-6, is your end fine? Over."

"Clear here, Pioneer-1. Out."

"Pioneer-3, this is Pioneer-1, any tangos on the 2nd floor? Over."

Dack, who had already set himself up on a somewhat-distant hill with a clear sight into the house, scanned the top floor of the two-story farmhouse; Half the windows were curtained off, but from what he could see through the uncovered windows, there was no movement.

"Nothing sighted, however, I don't have a full view so I can only tell so much, break." He radioed in. "My thermals didn't catch any heat sigs, though, but I would remain cautious, over."

"Copy, out-"

"Wait, hold on- I just caught movement at the first floor kitchen window."

Dack glimpsed, for just a moment, the sight of a child crawling by the window-

"Wha- Christ…" Dack muttered in outrage and indignation; The girl's head was caked with blood, and as she crawled there was a noticeable trail of crimson left behind her.

"Pioneer-1, I have one of the hostages in sight! If I see that son of a bitch, I'm going to pop his fucking head-"

"Negative!" Clef chastised him over radio- half the team was losing their composure over this atrocious affair. Not that he didn't want to neutralize this target for his team's safety, but they couldn't afford to be emotional right now. "If you gits don' keep your fucking heads straigh', you're gonna get 'em killed! Lose the emotion and perform your du'y!"

His British accent intensified as his emotions temporarily flared up; He could sense the resentment towards him from Vale and no doubt the others, but they fell in line nonetheless- his authority had become resolute after what had just occurred only hours ago.

"Pioneer-6, is there any easy entry into the top floor? Over."

"Da, there's an accessible balcony from the back of the house, over."

"Get up there, ASAP! Over!"

"Wilco, over!"

"Roger, out."

Clef could hear the faint sound of Griz and Haiman's soft-padded boots (only really used for silent ops) moving across the back yard, heading up the stairs to the back balcony.

"In position, over."

"Roger, await orders, out."

Clef immediately reached into one of his grenade pouches, pulling out a flashbang. Vale eyed it with sinister glee.

"Make him hurt." She told him.

"Gotta wait till the cunt's by himself first."

He pushed down on his radio button one more time.

"When you hear the flash go off, that's your signal, team. Out."

Clef peeked through the lower half of the kitchen window, sighting the perpetrator following the bleeding child through the hallway; and the mother's corpse lying just out of sight. Clef felt a chill run down his spine; One of guilt and outrage. If he'd been here just one minute earlier...

Ting!

He pulled the fuse pin, and hurled the flashbang through the glass of the kitchen, feeling immensely awful for the visual and audial shock the daughter was about to endure.

||| BANG! |||

Even from outside, Clef's ears rang as the flashbang erupted in a magnificent, dazzling fashion, lighting the first floor of the house up brilliantly, and quickly followed by the sounds of cursing and sobbing as the afflicted writhed on the floor.

CRACK!

The front door's lock was shot open by Polly's shotgun, as she quickly entered the house and swept the main room; She was simultaneously followed by Griz and Haiman, who broke through the glass backdoor of the 2nd story, sweeping the top floor for hidden individuals, while Clef and Vale climbed in through the broken window.

"There you are, you little fucking shitbag!" Vale cursed vehemently, seeing the convict writhing on the floor as the father's body lay only a few feet away. The child, bleeding profusely from her head, was lying in the corner against a table stand, unmoving.

The entire sight was beyond gruesome to the team, and their rage was quickly aimed towards the convict, who Vale smacked in the head with the butt of her carbine; The convict cried out in pain, lashing out with his hands to try and grab at what he couldn't see.

"Oh, God!"

Griz muttered in horror as his eyes laced over the bodies of the father and child, and it wasn't long before most of the team joined in tandem to beat the convict lying on the floor mercilessly; They were silent with fury and malice as their fists, boots and assorted blunt weapons came down in a torrential, merciless hail of deadly fury upon the convict, the house filled with the sickening sounds of blunt impacts on his flesh.

All except for Clef, who was practically a bystander to the morbid event. He himself was enraptured with malice towards the convict; His past self would have gladly partaken in the beating without a second thought. But he was not his past self, and he had orders to carry out; His sole principle kept him centered as a leader.

"STOP, FAHKING STOP!" Clef ordered them intensely, trying to break them out of their murderous trances; He smacked their helmets, elbowed their sides, jabbed his thumb into their neck- Whatever would work to get them to stop.


(Queue 'Exhale' by OGRE)


It was by a miracle and his own solidified authority that prevented him from getting targeted by their rage; Gradually, the adrenaline slowed in their veins, their eyes no longer dilated in violent excitement.

And slowly, the house became silent with a menacing tension; Deep shame overcame the four other agents as they realized how quickly they'd lost their heads.

"I don't want to hear a word from any of you." Clef chastised them through his teeth, too shaken with displaced rage to respond properly. "Bag this cunt up and get the fuck out of here."

The others were gravely silent, but showed their compliance as Clef ordered them to carry out their respective duties- Griz and Haiman grabbed the convict's arms and lifted him up with little care, as his bruised and bloodied body and face reflected the agents' malicious actions all the more clearly.

Not that anyone cared for the health of the convict.

Polly and Vale packaged up the equipment that had been used, including weapons and gear., while Haiman ran out to notify Dack and help with packing up quickly. Griz went over to the bleeding girl's body to check on her, raising sullen eyes and a grim scowl to greet Clef.

"Her head was... caved in. She's... gone."

"FUCK!"

Clef kicked over a nearby table stand in fury, sending the pot sat atop it crashing to the ground. The home remained silent as the rest of the group silently carried on their duties; No one could speak in the wake of all this. They had failed to save the family.

Clef gave one last glance of misery around the house before storming out the door, a sickening, yet alluring concept forming at the vestiges of his thoughts.


Thump!

The convict cried out in pain as he was not-so-carefully thrown into one of the jail cells designed within the bunker, in the lower levels; It was expected at some point that the team would be capturing some individuals, be they involved in occult affairs or not.

Griz slammed the heavy metal door shut, keeping the small-windowed slit open so as to peer in on the captive from time to time. In his opinion, the cell this trash was given was far too civilized for the likes of this convict.

It was a 10 x 10 ft square concrete room with a desk, bookshelf, decent bed, television, and private restroom. Of course, these cells were not numerous, only about 10 of these rooms were constructed- They were not intended for any specific group of people, but were considered a 'temporary imprisonment' for any persons of interest that could be involved with Anomalies. It would be very likely that these 'persons of interest' would not usually be scumbags that deserved less, but rather average, everyday citizens who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

By protocol, they were told to release any 'persons of interest' back into society after a maximum of two weeks (obviously, the captive would be blindfolded as they were transported). In this case, Clef had a far more grim fate in mind for this particular cretin.

He had gathered everyone in the main area, where they would eat and have general recreational activities, around the large mess hall table near the front of the room. He could sense the table brimming with a subtle fury, a combination of dissatisfaction from not killing the convict and resentment towards Clef for his recent orders and harshness.

"You may all be wondering why that shit scum isn't dead yet." Clef started off immediately. "Well, aside from it being on orders of our lovely boss, I 'ave reason to believe that on this bloody and brutal path we are soon to depart down, we will be sure to encounter more lovely parasites like him as time goes on."

He took a breath.

"I believe there is a way to mitigate our risk-taking on these missions, while also serving a most brutal justice to these cretins. It's quite simple, really. Any experiments we may run, any dangerous exploratory missions we may have, any 'anomalies' we may encounter can be wholly approached by these unwilling wankers."

He cleared his throat.

"The rest of their lives, however short, will be given for our safety and... general goal. I think there is a term that would suit them quite nicely..."

A hint of a grin touch upon Clef's face; Fueled by the sinister satisfaction of conjuring up such a twisted, yet ingenious concept; One that required an abandonment of many human moralities and would assure the safety of his personnel.

"We could coin them as... Dead Men."