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"Paranoia is just another word for ignorance."
~Hunter S. Thompson
Chapter Seventy-two: Mimic
Wind howled through the streets, harsh and cold. It bore dust and scattered trash from another age: soda cans and newspapers billowed back and forth over twenty years in elemental ping-pong. Ancient, shattered glass windows littered the storefronts and high-rises like acne scars on a once-fair face. Long ago, maybe this place was beautiful. The coast, and a high patio over it, with low cliffs and perhaps a bustling harbor...
Crunch.
"Keep it down, Barta." Anne Lawrence froze, one hand up. She frowned, straining to pick out hints of unnatural noise in the stillness.
"Affirmative." She hadn't wasted five seconds after the drop ripping her helmet off and puking. Was it something genetic with Skirmishers and heights?
Genetic. Anne shivered at the thought. LEGO creations! The idea that she could have mail-ordered Mox or Barta if she'd only had the right coupon code...it was sickening, wasn't it? They smelled so different, looked so unnatural and alien...far worse than adapted humans, weren't they?
It's not...it's not their fault, though. That was a difficult thought to process. No, Mox and Barta hadn't asked to be made. Were they less than human because they weren't human? They had no connection to the Gift, and didn't that make them...well, disconnected? Redundant, maybe, but the concept kept circling in Anne's head like a shark on the warpath.
Unnatural. But could she really think so little of her own allies? Sad. Pitiable.
No, that was the wrong way to go. They wouldn't want her pity, and it wouldn't help them. But if they weren't still the enemy, and they weren't pitiable...what in the world were they?
I need to talk to Janet...or maybe Geist. This is far beyond my meager ability to understand, no matter how long I meditate on it. Surely one of them can guide me.
"Movement right."
Fire shot through Janet's veins. She raised her magnetic autopistol, mouth suddenly very dry. "Repeat, Saleh?"
"Right side. Elevated position, up in the boutique. Looks like a good ambush spot." Not unlike his own, perched atop a water tower thanks to the Serpent Suit's wrist grapple.
"Avenger?" Fatima's EXO suit hissed as she ducked behind a long-derelict van. Anne settled in beside her, and Barta and Nui across the street. Aileen knelt behind a trash can, lips thin while her drone hovered like a loyal dog.
Anne couldn't help but admire Aileen's plasma rifle. The lines on it, curving so smoothly and elegantly and...when were plasma-based autopistols coming? Or the rumors of upgraded gauntlets?
"Copy, Menace." Bradford went silent for a moment. "The transponder signal is coming from somewhere on that block, but we can't risk engaging the scanners, not now. There's an Advent airbase down in Wales that's started a routine active sweep."
"Right. And we're expendable." Nui certainly had a career soldier's eye for the big picture. "Better that we all turn into Lost food than that the great commandy one gets shot down again."
"This is sensible and direct." And if Barta caught the sarcastic fatalism of it all, she was a damn champ at hiding it.
"That sweep will isolate the Templar operative's signal within the next ten minutes, so I don't suggest sightseeing. Advent rapid response units can be here within five more."
"Understood." Aileen studied the building. "How do we proceed, Major Tariq?"
"I want a two-man breach team." She jerked her head at Anne. "Take Barta. Work your way up floor by floor. Meysam, provide high cover. Aileen and Nui, check the rear side, make sure all exits are covered. I'll hold fast out here."
"Right." Of course she gave herself the safest job. Anne wasn't a coward, but what had Vahlen's little team done for the war effort? Nothing. Worse than nothing, actually: the alien Rulers were all their fault. Had the psychotic doctor intended to use them as trained attack animals? How deep had Fatima been in those decisions and plans?
These were the thoughts that separated her from Janet. Janet believed: believed in Betos, believed in Volk, and most importantly, believed in Edward Gallant. Anne couldn't shake a certain sense that this alliance was anything but, and everyone was privately trying their best to even old scores without it looking that way.
And here she was, partnered up with a literal genetically designed alien war machine.
"Consider it done." Barta raised her mag-bullpup, starting for the door. Anne almost literally swallowed her misgivings, hurrying along on her six.
Can't have them thinking the Skirmisher is braver than the Templar, after all, can we?
"I don't like this."
"Why?" Gallant's eyes never left the holodisplay. "It's just a Lost-infested city with no Lost in it. Or anything else, for that matter: just that beacon, pinging and pinging away..."
"This smells like an ambush." Bradford's lips thinned. "That base could launch a UFO any minute."
"Technically it's not a UFO. I'd expect an Air Force jock to know that." Gallant chewed his lip. "If we know what it is, that makes it an Advent Hunter-class attack craft. We wouldn't call a Russian jet a UFO once we removed the 'Unidentified'."
"Sir, you get my point." Bradford clutched the rail, glaring at the little blue buildings hovering over the projector. Menace's various locator beacons moved through the rubble, their signals faint enough no Advent ship could detect them unless it was hovering as close to the LZ as Avenger.
And without Jiaying screwing with our systems, we'd know if they were. Unless they've upgraded their stealth tech! Gallant shivered. Let's not even think about things like that. There's no wood to knock here.
"Should we power up scanners?" Lily knelt by her control console, Julian's red image up on her screen.
"That base would pick us up within a minute. Even if we powered down after just a few seconds, the interference would be clearly visible and put them on heightened alert." Tygan shook his head. "The risks are quite high."
"So are the risks of doing nothing, Doctor." Bradford might have been a pilot and an officer, but in his heart of hearts, he was a fighting man who'd been left behind by the Big Men in their ivory tower before. "Those are our people out there."
"Our people are the best." Gallant wasn't sure he believed that, since this team lacked Jane, Dragunova, Mox, Janet, and Julie all at once–but it had Fatima and Aileen, didn't it? They were top-tier soldiers. And what was he supposed to say with everyone on the bridge listening to him?
"Commander..." Lily pursed her lips.
"Scanners stay dormant, Chief." Gallant exhaled softly. "Central, give our troops an update. Tell them..." What was there to tell them? The Big Men smelled bad juju but couldn't prove anything and wouldn't get off their asses to help? "Tell them to be on high alert."
"Sir." At least he seemed partially mollified. "Menace, do you read?"
"Say again, Central?" Aileen growled under her breath, then played with her wrist computer. "Nessie, transmit protocol."
Nessie beeped and whirred. Aileen gave her a minute, then keyed her com again. "Central? Yoo-hoo? What are you wearing right now?"
"Green sweater." Nui paused. "What was that?"
"Contact?" Aileen brought her rifle up and sighted in after her partner in a flash. But...
"...I guess not. Trash, maybe." Nui lowered her weapon. "Signal's going to be better here than in there."
"Yeah, probably." Aileen pulled her com out and examined it. "Why isn't this thing working? It was a second ago. Dead zone?"
"I hope not." Nui tentatively started for the corner. "I'm going to make sure that was as much nothing as I thought."
"Copy that. Scream if you die." Aileen scowled, sticking her com back in. "Central? Avenger?" She kicked at the first Lost corpse she found, oozing yellow blood from heavy rents in its chest. "Fatima, are you there? Does anyone copy at all?"
Static and some scrambled noises. Aileen hissed. She kicked the Lost body again. "Stupid piece of...maybe it's software?" She reached for the pouch with her slicer chips. "...didn't I have three in here, not two?"
Oh, right. Jane. Aileen bit her lip, fishing a slice out. What was she after? What did she find? She didn't exactly go around bouncing for joy after...
Scrub that. What exactly was so secret that Jane wasn't allowed to access it? Wasn't she the highest-ranking soldier on the ship? Well, Fatima was her equal, now that everything had been formalized, but...what was there that Gallant and Bradford didn't want her to see?
I'm not the world's smartest person, but even I know the answer to that. Aileen shivered, heedless as she stepped in Lost blood. Nothing good.
She paused. Jane slipped from her mind in a heartbeat, and Aileen glanced back down at the dead Lost.
"...why are you still bleeding?" She knelt, cradling the desiccated head. She dipped her fingers in the blood, rubbing it over her fingers in a way that would have made her rookie self vomit. "You didn't die ten years ago. You were alive..." she checked its temperature "...recently."
Crunch.
Aileen's hands were on her rifle almost before she'd started to turn. She dropped one knee and sighted in, spinning and spinning until–
Until she stared down the muzzle of a magnetic rifle.
"Meysam, do you read?"
"Say again, Anne? I read you two by two."
"That answers that." Anne fought the urge to unsheathe one of her gauntlets on general principles. Autopistol held in both hands, she tiptoed across the creaky wooden floor. "Meysam, anything happening outside?"
"Negative. Wait."
"Wait?" Anne froze, shivers running up her spine like icy claws. "Meysam?"
"I have misgivings." Barta covered the next door, bullpup at the ready. "Tell me I am mistaken and foolish."
"I would love to." Anne exhaled, reaching out into the Void. It was hard here, with the choking weight of so much death overpowering her Sense like industrial odor in her nostrils, but...
"Anne, Aileen has..." Whatever came next, she couldn't make it out. Anne growled a curse, trying to reclaim her meditative focus.
"There's..." She felt until she touched the twinge of a heartbeat: a presence nearby, and not one familiar to her. "There's someone on the next level. At least one someone. Maybe more, I can't tell."
"That must be one of our contacts." Barta examined the stairs. "I suggest a pincer movement."
"Meaning?" Anne put one foot on the first stair. "It's going to crumble under me, isn't it?"
"I do not believe so. However..." Barta jerked her head toward an old elevator shaft, the door corroded and held open by age. "I will ascend with my grapple, and you via the stairs. We will catch whomever this is between us. If they are friendly, they will be very safe. And if not..."
"If not, we'll be split up." But Anne wasn't a coward, was she? "Sounds reasonable. Just..." She tried her com again. "Meysam? Come in, Meysam."
Nothing, now. That was encouraging.
"Let's go." Anne raised her autopistol. "The sooner we find the son of a bitch, the sooner we can get out of this citywide haunted house."
"Agreed." Barta gently pushed through the elevator door, and at least she was quiet. "I will see you on the other side."
"Yeah. Something like that." Anne took aim up the stairs just in case, and she tentatively tested the next step. A faint bang from the shaft was all the evidence she needed that Barta was on the move too.
"Damn it..." Anne bit her tongue, nearly firing a burst at the wall when her foot punched right through the fifth step with an audible crack! She froze, waiting for the screaming about donuts and balatens to commence, but...
Why is the lack of a reaction more frightening than an attack?
She made it up, taking the stairs slowly. The floor creaked under her, so she tried to keep her footsteps close to the wall where there was more support, and thus less noise. Still, there was only so much she could do when outfitted with Templar-modified Predator armor. The suit was designed for many things, but stealth was not one of them. Anne's side scraped against the decrepit paneling almost before she realized she was leaning, and she overcorrected when she yanked away. The floor squeaked loudly, and sweat trickled down Anne's back.
And through it all, her com stayed dead silent.
Easy, easy. She snapped her gun to the left as she passed an open doorway, but there was nothing inside except a long-expired civilian, likely transformed into a Lost right in his bed. Now he was half-ashes, scattered over the sheets.
Thump. If that wasn't a footstep...
"Barta?" Anne leveled her autopistol at the doorway. "Barta, is that you?"
Silence. Anne dove into the Field as best she could, feeling and feeling...
A presence appeared to her third eye, almost as if she could see it in the material world. It lurked behind the next door, huddled in preparation, and Anne lined up her autopistol on the wall. The rounds would tear right through the old pre-Invasion paneling. But...
"Don't shoot!"
"Whoa!" Anne spun, and blonde hair flew as Aileen ducked, just in the nick of time to not get a pistol-whipping. "Jesus! Sneaking up on a woman like that–"
"You can come out!" Aileen held up a hand, nearly pushing Anne away. "We're with XCOM."
"Are you?" That was a woman's voice, leaking from under the door ahead. "How did you know I was here?"
"I met your man Elias down in the road." Aileen knocked on the door in an absurdly polite way. "I tried to hail our people in the building, but comms seem to be down."
"Oh. Yeah." The door cracked open, and one brown eye appeared, assessing Aileen and Anne. "That'll be the jammer. We set that up to start cracking any comms traffic in the area in case Advent launched a ground sweep."
"Turn the damn thing off." Anne did her best not to glare. "We're freaking out here."
"Not a problem." The woman pulled the door more fully open. If there was a poster child for a ratty, war-torn refugee, it was her: scraggly dark hair, cut and bruised face covered in dust and dirt, torn jacket and jeans with holes all in her boots...Anne was by no means finicky, but this woman couldn't have been more pitiable if she'd tried. "It's down the hall. The Father's guarding it."
"Who?" Anne shot a glance out the window. She couldn't see Fatima anywhere on the main street, which either said good things about her stealth skills...or very bad ones about the op as a whole.
"Father Giovanni. He's my other guard." The woman hurried past two doors while Aileen and Anne traded glances.
"Father Giovanni?" Had there been a miscommunication somewhere? "As in, a priest?"
"Yes." The woman stopped at the third door. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
"Ten Hail Mary's in penance." The voice was low and serious, for all the world as if this really was a confessional. The woman nodded very seriously, more to herself than the man who certainly couldn't see her.
"Oh, I get it." Aileen chuckled under her breath. "It's a code phrase."
"We thought it was appropriate." The woman opened the door. "No Faceless here, Father."
"Or here, Yue." He was short, with receding black hair streaked with premature gray. Somehow, he had no major scars. How long had he been in the war? "Where's Elias?"
"Your young friend is down in the street, hooking up with the rest of the team." Aileen glanced past the priest. "So, that communications disruptor..."
"Shut it down." Anne eyed the relay with its three terminals and many rotating dishes. "It's messing with our coordination. You're lucky our sniper hasn't started shooting by now."
"Alright, my daughter. No need to be angry." Giovanni turned for the disruptor and started typing.
Anne scowled. "Don't call me that, old man. I am above your primitive superstitions."
He didn't even glance her way. "What is your worship of the Gift and Geist but a superstition of your own?"
"It's different." Anne glared. "We're right."
Giovanni chuckled. "That's been said a thousand times before, hasn't it? And yet here we are." He tapped one last key, and the disruptor's screens went black. "There. Communications should be back online."
"Great." Anne touched her com. "All units, this is Menace Four."
"Where the hell have you been?" Fatima did not sound happy. "I lost contact."
"We were busy. We've located the target and her..." Anne glanced at Yue, who nodded "...and her two guards."
"Copy that, Menace Four." Fatima paused, as if considering. "Regroup at Point Charlie, and we'll make our way to extraction from there."
"Understood." At least Barta wasn't dead. "I am on my way."
"It'll take me some time to get there. Caught in a basement I shouldn't have started exploring." Nui paused to cough. "Sorry."
"Not a problem. We'll wait for you there. Call if you die." Aileen tapped Anne's shoulder. "Come on. Let's move."
"Yeah, let's..." Anne let out a deep breath. "I still don't like this."
"Relax, we've got the target." Aileen shrugged as if she didn't care in the slightest. "We're on the way out. It's downhill from here."
"Avenger, this is Menace. We've got the package in tow and are headed for extraction."
"Lord!" Gallant let out a long sigh, trying not to be obvious about releasing the tension in his shoulders. "Thank God."
"Copy that, Menace." Bradford wasn't all iron either, whatever he pretended: his shoulders sagged and he leaned on the rail in a very relieved way. "Bring her back in once piece. Avenger will be standing by to pick you up down the coast at Baker Seven."
"I guess we're all just a little on edge, eh?" Gallant leaned on his cane, studying the barracks camera feed. The off-duty troops were there, chuckling and trading jokes now that the tension had broken. They all watched the visuals broadcast from the bridge, and...
No. No, they all didn't. Gallant frowned. There was one missing.
"John?"
"Commander?"
Gallant examined the barracks feed more closely. "Have I lost my mind, or has Major Kelly vanished?"
"Uh..." Bradford pursed his lips. "Probably hit the head, I guess."
"I...guess." Was she the source of the data breach? What was she doing right now while all the ship's eyes were on the away team?
"I've got her, Commander." Lily pointed to another feed, and Gallant studied it.
"Ah. I see." He didn't have many more answers, though. "Seems like an odd time to hit the weight room." But all eyes on the bridge were on him, so he had to at least project something other than the concern eating at him from the inside. "Still, at least she didn't fall off the stern, and that's the important part. Thanks, Chief."
Is she trying to take her mind off Aileen being in harm's way? Just because it was the easiest, least problematic, most benign answer didn't mean it was wrong, did it?
Yes. Maybe Gallant was a pessimist, but...yes, it did. The most benign answer was always wrong, wasn't it? So what was the most worrisome, least manageable reason for Jane to be disconnected from everyone?
Somehow, this line of thinking didn't make Gallant feel any better.
"Nui?" Meysam Saleh frowned. He gently opened the glass door that was the only obstruction between him and the rendezvous point, eyeing his friend. "Thought you'd be late."
"Oh." She chuckled in the back of her throat. "I found a shortcut. And then Elias here caught up with me."
"How do you do?" He had a thick Swedish accent and a mag-rifle that looked to have started life as an Advent officer's. He didn't look much like a Viking though: a small serpent tattoo on his bicep was about the most warlike thing about his scholarly appearance. His T-shirt was ratty and worn, and the hilt protruding over his shoulder had yellow stains from use.
"Good morning." Meysam didn't offer his hand, but did give his name.
"Pleased to meet you. Elias Svensson." Elias studied the alleyways around. "So...where's the rest of you?"
"Got some here." Aileen appeared from the shadows, with Anne and Barta in tow. Then came a woman who had to be the VIP, and a little man who resembled nothing so much as... "This is Father Giovanni."
"A priest?" Meysam blinked. "That's a new one."
"We're just waiting on Fatima, then." Aileen lowered the Bolt Caster, jerking her head toward the waterfront. "Barta, go check the route and make sure we're clear. We'll follow."
"Understood." The Skirmisher raised her bullpup. She started off into the darkness, and Meysam couldn't help covering her until she vanished around the next bend.
"Tell me something, Doctor." Nui examined Yue very thoroughly. "What information do you have?"
"Uh..." She shrugged. "I found out some information on the Hunter's lair. Passcodes and such that could be used to get access, if it could be found."
"Really?" Meysam's eyebrows went up. The chance to take the Hunter down, like the Warlock... "Any leads on that?"
"Unfortunately, no. The only one who truly knows his location is the Hunter himself. Everyone else just accesses his lair through the portal network." Yue sighed. "And he's unlikely to tell you where he lives, willingly or otherwise."
"Well, it's progress." Aileen smiled tightly, while Nui grumbled under her breath. "Lighten up, how about? We're ahead of where we were."
"By a bit." Fatima appeared nearly from thin air, and Meysam fought the urge to whip out the Enhanced Shadowkeeper and put a round into her. EXO Suit or not, she was quiet as a cat. "Where's Barta?"
"Sent her on ahead to check things out." Aileen studied the surrounding buildings. "I don't like how quiet it's been."
"Yeah, join the club." Meysam scoped in after Barta, but she was out of sight by now.
"Sorry, guys. Got turned around, but I'm back on the main street now. I should be at Point Charlie in a few minutes."
"Nui?" Meysam froze. "But you're..."
Something hit him hard from behind, and Meysam tumbled onto his hands and knees. He rolled away on instinct, and Nui's foot hit the ground where his head had been an instant before.
"Faceless!" He whirled, grabbing for his pistol now. His fingers wrapped around the haft–
Blam!
Author's Note 72: If It Looks Like A Duck, It's Actually An Alien Mud Monster
Am I the only one who thinks that the resemblance between Faceless and Arkham City's version of Clayface is WAY too serious to be accidental? Maybe I'm just too much of an AC fan.
I know I'm a bit late with this one, but it's hard to get back into the swing of things. I've had to do a lot of messing around just to regain what groove I have, and hopefully that sticks. I've been trying to get hits on my novel, since it would be nice to get some income to replace the money from my job(if you're interested, check my profile: I'm not clogging my ANs with plugs). I'm hoping to make it to my original planned midseason break at CH85, but as I said last time, no promises.
Something like this–a faceless impersonating a soldier–is impossible in the game system due to how your command POV is omniscient. But might it not be really cool if some of the soldiers you can collect on random VIP rescue missions turn out to be Faceless, and they shoot at you? Maybe taking down their health causes them to transform into their regular Faceless form, minus however much HP their human shell had. What do you think about the idea?
Until next time, Vigilo Confido.