Chapter 21: Miscommunication
Owen was impassive as he watched AK-47 and SVT-38 shove the tied up Nines imposter into the back of the only operational vehicle they had left at the Outpost.
The old delivery van.
MP-40 stood next to him, occasionally she would cast worried looks his way when she thought he wasn't looking.
And for good reason, I must look like shit. Owen thought to himself as he readjusted his chest rig for the fifth time.
None of his old combat equipment fit quite right, and it all felt heavier than normal. Whenever he did too much activity he became winded.
Guess I have to ease back into things. He thought grumpily.
Once Not Nines, that's what Owen decided to call her, was secured in the van, M3 and M4 climbed in to guard her.
Owen had given everyone orders to kill Not Nines if it looked like she would break free. Partly because he didn't want to lose any of the other dolls to a crazed ex Soviet spy doll. He remembered the way Nines' studied him whenever he would enter the room to check on her, taking notes of whatever weakness she found so she could easily take him out when the opportunity arose.
What bothered Owen the most was the fact that he wasn't sure he could stop her, even if he wanted to.
He adjusted his chest rig again, then checked his battered A4.
Sometimes he missed his old Mk18 he had when he was in the Rangers, and he definitely missed the CT-21 he had during his brief stint in Delta, but he was starting to grow fond of the old M16 that Quartermaster Hayes kept forcing on him.
Owen fought down the wave of nostalgia as he made sure the old ACOG mounted to his even older rifle was still secure.
One of the many side effects of losing the nanites was that he couldn't use the ELCAN sights that Freya had set up for him.
He also lost his built in night vision.
It sucked being normal.
"Are you alright?" MP-40 asked, trying to keep the concern out of her voice.
Owen turned to give her a reassuring grin and by the look on his adjutant's face, it was anything but, so he dropped it.
"I'm alright." He said with indifference he didn't feel.
A fresh stream of Russian swears streamed from the back of the van and MP-40 watched Owen's face go blank as his body tensed. He turned to the van and she briefly caught a glimpse of worry cross his eyes.
"We'll be moving out soon." He half muttered, but MP-40 didn't think he was talking to her.
"What would you like me to do?" She asked him.
Owen gave her a brief glance before turning back to the van, "I'm taking Makarov's team with me for security, so you'll be in charge of Nines' team until she gets back." He stumbled a bit at the mention of Nines. "G3's team can be cut to Gentiane as QRF* if she needs it."
MP-40 nodded, "Everything will be taken care of, Kommandant." She then reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, "And don't worry, she will be back in charge of her team in no time, I promise."
MP-40 saw Owen's barriers slip for a moment as she saw the exhaustion and worry in his eyes as he turned to face her.
He gave her another smile, this time it looked haggard, but genuine.
"Thanks," he said.
She nodded and returned the smile and gave him a gentle shove towards the van, "Of course, now go get her back."
Makarov waited for him by the passenger door of the van with something in her hand. When he got closer, she shoved the object into his hand. When he looked down at it he saw it was a small detonator.
He looked at Makarov, eyebrow raised questioningly.
"I placed a fairly potent EMP device on our bipolar friend." She told him coolly, "If she overpowers us for some reason, use it."
Owen nodded, then frowned.
"Don't worry, I made sure everyone backed up their Neural Clouds." Owen could hear the annoyance in her voice.
"It's a good idea," he said, "hopefully we don't need it though."
Makarov shrugged, "That's up to the war relic."
Owen let out a snort, "You talkin' about me or her?"
Makarov gave him an amused smile and walked to the back of the van without clarifying. With a yank, Owen opened the door of the van and climbed in, only to be met with a fresh wave of Russian obscenities and Alexander looking at him pleadingly from the driver's seat.
"Just drive." He told Alexander over the yelling, "We'll be there soon enough."
They made it less than a mile outside of the Outpost before Owen lost his patience.
"I swear I will rip your fucking spine out through your throat when I get out of here, American, you will beg for death at my hands yo-"
Owen spun around, "Would it be possible for you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
He held the detonator up so Not Nines could see it, "I swear to Christ if you do not keep your fucking mouth shut for the duration of this trip, I will fry your ass up like a ditchbug at a fish fry."
Everyone in the back of the van stared at him in confusion.
"What?" He asked in annoyance.
Spectre raised her hand, "Um, what's a ditchbug?"
Owen turned his head to face her, "Y'know, a crawdad."
More blank looks.
Owen frowned, "A fucking, uh, what are they called…" he snapped his fingers, "a crayfish!"
A collective "oooh" sounded from the back of the van.
"So," Owen continued, holding the detonator up once again, "If you don't shut the fuck up, I will fry you like a crayfish."
Everyone fell silent.
"D-don't you usually boil those?" M3 asked.
"M3."
"Yes Commander?"
"Shut up."
A sigh, "Yes commander."
The sun was starting to set when the van rolled to a stop in front of a building that had clearly seen better days.
"So, you're guy operates out of a run down knock off Starbucks." Owen stated as he studied the abandoned storefront through the windshield of the van.
Alexander cleared his throat, clearly nervous, "Like I said, not everything he does is above board."
"Right." Owen deadpanned before he turned to face Not Nines, detonator in hand. "Remember…" he began.
She rolled her eyes, "Da, da, you will fry me like stupid water bug."
Owen nodded in satisfaction, "Exactly."
"But I wonder, would you be able to harm your friend?" She asked with a mischievous smile, "she thinks so highly of you after all."
Owen gave her a blank stare, "Without hesitation."
Not Nines nodded in approval, "I am impressed."
"I don't give a shit." Owen told the imposter as he got out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
As he moved to the rear of the van, he heard the driver door slam and the scrambling of feet as Alexander ran around to meet up.
"So, when we get inside, I think it's best if we let me do the talking." Alexander said as Owen checked his weapon again.
"Why?" Owen's question was gruff as he watched the rear doors of the van swing open and Makarov's team escorted Not Nines onto the ground, when Not Nines made eye contact with Owen, he flipped his rifle on Burst.
"Well," Alexander licked his lips nervously as he watched the rogue doll be led away from the vehicle and into the building, "My guy can be a bit…odd."
Owen let out an annoyed sigh as he turned to face the doll technician, "Get to the point, Alexander, I'm not in the mood to play twenty questions."
"He's just not what you're going to be expecting, but he does outstanding work, just remember that, alright?" Alexander then frowned at his feet before looking back at Owen. "Also…don't try to shoot him or anything."
Owen rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll play nice, fuck." With that, Owen followed Makarov and her team into the coffee shop and Alexander rushed to catch up.
Once inside, the group stood in what used to be the customer area as Alexander told them, multiple times, not to go anywhere or touch anything, he disappeared into the back.
"Alright kids," Owen deadpanned after five minutes had passed, "Time to touch all the things and see if they show up." With that, he made his way over to a table and knocked the napkin dispenser off of the table. The dispenser clattered to the ground and everyone turned to stare at the door Alexander disappeared behind. When no one appeared, Owen shrugged and laid down in the booth.
"Might as well get comfy kids, obviously we're on their time." He said as he took his hat off and covered his face.
M3 and Spectre led Not Nines onto a bench, before sitting themselves. The rest of the team spread out and SVT found herself wandering around the coffee shop before finally coming to a stop at Owen's booth. She sat opposite of her commander and laid her rifle next to her.
She studied him for a moment before speaking, "Commander, are you okay?"
Owen peeked up at her from under his hat, "Yeah SVT, I'm doing alright, why?"
"Well," she motioned towards Not Nines, who was glaring at him from the other side of the room, "You and Miss Nines were close, and now with everything happening…" she let the sentence hang in the air.
Owen readjusted the hat to cover his face, "I'm good SVT, promise."
SVT deflated a little at the curt dismissal and the two sat in a brief silence that was broken by Owen's snores a few seconds later. SVT scoffed, stood, and sat next to Makarov.
"Miss SVT-38, Miss Makarov, Miss Kalishnakova, if you help me escape these American bastards and back to friendly lines, I know we will all receive a hero's welcome in Moscow." Not Nines whispered in Russian, "I bet they would even throw us a parade in Red Square if we captured the soldier."
"Shut it." Spectre growled.
Makarov chuckled, "For a spy, you're not very good at intelligence gathering."
Not Nines frowned, "What do you mean, comrade?"
"She means that the war has been over, for a while now." AK-47 said with an amused look on her face.
Not Nines frowned in confusion, "Then why are you all working for an American soldier?"
"I said shut it." Spectre repeated.
"We're not." Makarov replied, her amusement growing. "We work for a Military Contractor that the American also works for."
"Then why am I being held captive?" Not Nines asked, frustration creeping into her voice.
"Because you hijacked the Commander's girlfriend." AK-47 announced with a look of malicious glee, "and he will do anything to get her back."
Not Nines looked over at the sleeping Owen with a look of horror on her face, "We didn't…" she made a series of motions with her hands that caused M3 and Spectre to look at her in confusion.
"We have to shut off our audio input almost every night, you two are relentless." Makarov told the Russian spy as AK-47 tried to suppress her laughter, "like wild animals."
Not Nines shivered and stared blankly at the floor, muttering to herself.
"W-what did you say to her?" M3 asked Makarov.
"Nothing she wanted to hear." Makarov replied simply.
M3 shuddered and the room fell quiet once again. SVT studied Not Nines who was still staring at the dirty floor under her feet.
"How do you not know these things?" SVT asked.
Not Nines looked up at SVT warily, "What do you mean?"
SVT stared hard at the imposter, "These are all things you should already know, but you don't. Nines said herself that she was still operational after the war, which means you should already know the answers to everything you just asked."
Not Nines said nothing and before SVT could press the issue any further, Alexander reappeared from behind the back room, the sound of his entrance causing Owen to shoot up from his slumber, clutching his rifle. SVT watched the way his eyes darted around the abandoned building for a moment before he relaxed his grip on his weapon.
"I was only gone for a little over five minutes, how did you already fall asleep?" Alexander asked in disbelief.
"Trick of the trade," Owen mumbled, "what's the word?"
Alexander shrugged, "He's ready to see you."
Owen stood, then stretched before motioning for Alexander to lead the way.
As the mechanic led them behind the counter, M3 and Spectre shoved Not Nines a little too hard, causing the Russian doll to trip and fall into a large dish rack on wheels, sending the dish rack, pots, pans, serving trays, cutlery, and herself flying on the ground.
Not Nines swore non stop as she flailed around and tried to get back up. A task made more difficult with her hands still bound behind her.
"Either untie me or help me up!" She spat at her guards who were sharing a chuckle as she tried to stand, but stood on a serving tray and was sent sprawling back to the ground.
"You two," Owen growled, "do your job."
The two SMG dolls grabbed Not Nines by the shoulders and finally hoisted her up, Spectre making a big show of dusting her off.
Alexander looked to Owen with a look that fell somewhere between annoyance and anger. Owen just shrugged and motioned for him to continue. Alexander shook his head and led them to a staircase that led to a basement.
"I don't care who he works for," a voice was echoing up to them, "as long as he pays, and he's not a snitch, I'll do the work, and if he's as connected as Alex says, I have no problem charging my premium rate."
Owen glared at Alexander, "We're going to talk about opsec later." He growled before descending into the basement.
A young woman wearing a blue beret gave a yelp of surprise when she saw Owen descend the last few steps, she quickly recovered and rushed over to greet him.
"Welcome to our shop, Mister Owen, I'm sorry about the state of our lab, unfortunately this is all we could find on such short notice." The young woman said apologetically, "I assure you that we will be able to help you with whatever problems your dolls are having though."
"For a price." A kid holding a wrench said as he strutted towards Owen, holding a large wrench.
"What Dier-" the girl said, casting a glare at the kid, "-means, is that due to the clandestine nature of our work, we are regrettably forced to charge a premium fee for our services."
Owen's face was blank as he stared impassively at the kid, "If you're so good at your job, why are you working in a basement?"
Dier pointed to the group of dolls that were clustered behind him, "Because of guys like you who like to travel with a heavily armed harem."
Owen raised an eyebrow at the word harem, but said nothing. Behind him, however, there were a few irritated murmurs and an amused snort from Makarov.
"Besides," Dier said as he rested the wrench on his shoulder, "where else are you gonna go, Griffin?"
Owen nodded, "That's a good idea," he turned to the dolls and spread his arms wide, "come my lethal harem, we shall take our business to Griffin."
He was met with a wall of stony faces and glares.
"Hold on," Dier said in surprise, not reading the room, "I was just messin' around, y'know?" he let out a nervous chuckle, "Alex said you guys were his friends, so that makes us friends too."
"And what else did Alex say about us?" Owen leaned in close, causing Dier to take a nervous step back.
"That you were starting a new PMC company and needed someone to handle the repairs he couldn't." Dier told him.
Owen had to work to hide his surprise at this, maybe he misjudged Alexander.
"Fair enough." Owen said.
"Speaking of which," Dier said as he leaned over to eye the dolls standing behind Owen, "what is the problem Alex can't handle?"
Alexander finally stepped out from his hiding spot behind the girls and cleared his throat, "Well, I'm not one hundred percent yet, but I think this one-" he motioned to Not Nines, "-wasn't fully wiped before a new personality matrix was installed."
"So the old personality is fighting with the new one?" Dier asked as he eyed Not Nines up and down in fascination.
Alexander shook his head, "The old one has completely taken over."
"How long since the overwrite?" Dier asked, still staring at Not Nines, who was glaring daggers at the boy.
"Around ten years ago." Alexander informed him.
Dier turned to Alexander in disbelief, "You're joking, and the old personality is just now trying to take back over?"
Alexander shook his head, and the two started speaking in rapid fire tech speak that Owen couldn't follow.
Sier then appeared at Owen's side with a tablet in hand, "Well, they're going to talk this way for hours." she informed him as she watched the two with an amused expression on her face.
She turned back to Owen and switched to a business tone of voice, "Alex told us that Miss Nines is dangerous right now, just so you know, we'll have to take some precautions."
Owen nodded but said nothing.
"I would ask that you help us restrain Miss Nines, for our safety, I hope you understand."
Owen nodded again, "Where do you need her?"
Sier motioned for the group to follow her and led them to an area blocked off with a curtain of plastic. Sier pulled the plastic back to reveal a steel operating table with over engineered restraints built in. The table was surrounded by tv monitors and there was a large electrical box with wires and cables running to it.
"Dier whipped this up when Alex explained what happened at your base." Sier explained, "He claims he has prepared for just about everything."
Makarov stepped forward to get a better look as Sier went over everything Dier had done.
"What happens if Miss Bipolar tries to escape?" Makarov interrupted.
Sier gave her an uneasy look, "Well, we have a fail-safe in case that happens."
"What is the fail-safe?" Makarov asked.
Sier shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning, "Well, once we get her on the table and connected to our system," she pointed to large device that was attached to the ceiling above the bed, "we also power up this EMP generator, if Dier thinks we're in danger, all he has to do is activate that."
"How powerful is that?" Owen asked as he looked at the device.
"Powerful enough to fry anything we put under it." Sier explained.
Makarov gave a nod of approval, then turned to Owen, "I want one Komandir."
Owen turned to her in surprise, "Why?"
"Reasons." Was all Makarov replied before she moved back to the group.
"Um," Sier continued hesitantly, "anyway, if you would help us get her onto the table, we can get started."
Owen turned to face the imposter, "So, you want to do this the easy way or-"
Before he could finish, Not Nines' hands shot out from behind her back, shoved M3 to the ground, grabbed Spectre by the throat with one hand, her weapon with the other.
Not Nines aimed the weapon at Owen, but before she could pull the trigger, Spectre reached out and grabbed Not Nines' arm and wrenched up as hard as she could, sending a burst of 9mm into the ceiling. Not Nines snarled and heaved the SMG doll into the group of Misfits, sending everyone tumbling to the ground.
Owen tried to bring his weapon up, but Not Nines sent a small knife flying towards Owen's face with a flick of her wrist. Owen twisted his rifle so the lower receiver was in front of his face and blocked the incoming blade. He heard a sharp crack before the knife fell to the ground and when he looked down, he saw the tip of the blade was bent.
He looked back at Not Nines to see her sprinting past a confused Dier and Alexander and flying up the stairs, Makarov and SVT-38 hot on her heels.
Owen checked his rifle, and found a large crack in the polymer magazine where the knife had struck. It looked like it would still function, but he thumbed the magazine release, put the damaged mag in his back pocket, and slapped a fresh one in.
Better safe than sorry.
Gunshots rang out above them as a firefight between Not Nines and her pursuers kicked off. Owen sprinted up the stairs as fast as he could.
Before he could reach the dining area he heard a rapid fire burst, followed by silence. Owen burst through the server's doors with his rifle shouldered and scanning for Not Nines.
He expected to see either Makarov or SVT on the ground in a pool of coolant.
Instead, he found Nines standing in the middle of the dining area, hands in the air, surrounded by Makarov, SVT, and, to his surprise, the members of 404.
Everyone turned to face him as he lowered his rifle and took in the scene, panting from exertion.
UMP 9 waved when she turned to face him, a grin on her face.
"Hiya Owen!" she said cheerily, "long time no see!"
Owen slowly raised a hand in greeting as he tried to get his breathing under control, "Oh, hey."
He looked at everyone, still breathing hard, "What are you guys doing here?"
UMP 45's eyes glinted as she gave him an evil grin. At the same time, Not Nines' eyes rolled into her head and she collapsed in a heap.
"Helping."
Ten minutes later, Not Nines was strapped to the table, surrounded by Dier, Sier, and Alexander.
Meanwhile, Owen chatted with the UMP sisters and HK 416 while G11 napped in her lap. His team had made their way upstairs when they realized they were going to be waiting a while, and Owen noticed a few unpleasant looks directed towards the 404 dolls as they went.
"So, what have you guys been up to?" Owen asked as they lounged around
"Oh~," UMP 9 began as she spun around in her chair, "the usual, just finished up a job."
"Anything exciting?" Owen asked."
"Why would we tell you?" HK 416 snapped.
Owen shrugged, "Don't have to, it was just professional curiosity."
"We're not going to give all of our secrets to the first Griffin commander we come across," she growled.
"Am I really the first Griffin commander you've come across?" Owen asked in mock surprise, "I assumed you would have met at least one other."
UMP 9 stifled a giggle as HK 416 glared daggers into Owen's soul.
"So, I guess you guys haven't had anything exciting happen." Owen said jokingly, to which UMP 45 shrugged.
"Nothing nearly as exciting as you've been up to." she replied. "We heard that you almost died."
It was Owen's turn to shrug, "So they tell me, I was asleep for most of the dying part."
"That's what you get for trying to use untested tech on the battlefield." UMP 45 told him with the fake grin he'd become accustomed to seeing.
Dier's head snapped around to face Owen, "What does she mean by that?"
"Why?" UMP 45 asked as she turned her creepy grin towards the young mechanic, "are you going to make him get naked and run tests on him too?"
Dier shuddered, "You don't need to make it sound so weird." He said.
"It's only weird when you do it." HK 416 announced in a steely tone.
"Well, if you guys don't like how I work, you're more than happy to find another mechanic willing to work on a group of illegal T-Dolls." Dier informed them with a smug look.
"Hey Alexander," Owen called, "you used to work on T-Dolls illegally right?"
"Please don't drag me into this." Alexander groaned, "Or remind me of that."
"I bet his rates are cheaper than yours," UMP 9 chimed in, "plus he seems more mature."
"If I lose their business, your rates go up." Dier threatened Owen.
Owen shrugged, "If you try to gouge me on the price, I'll break your fingers."
Dier grumbled something and returned to his work.
"Um," Sier's voice drifted quietly in their direction, "what did she mean though?"
"Owen's a cy~borg!" UMP 9 sang cheerily.
Owen was about to argue, then stopped, and frowned, "Holy shit, I am."
UMP 9 grinned in triumph.
"Ja, and I've heard you're one accident away from being full T-Doll, like us." UMP 45 had an amused look on her face, "Wouldn't that be tragic?"
Owen shrugged, "Eh, I could think of worse things to have happened to me, maybe my nanites would actually work right."
"Wait." Dier exclaimed, "Nanites?"
"Yup," Owen said, "but they're useless now, deactivated after they tried to kill me."
Dier studied him for a long time, "I want a blood sample." He said.
"No." Owen answered.
"But I can fix your nanites." Dier countered.
"Maybe."
"Sier, go get his blood." Dier commanded.
"416's right, you are weird." Owen told him.
Dier just grumbled something under his breath and went back to checking something on a monitor in front of him, while Sier came over with a syringe and some empty vials.
"I'm sorry if this hurts," Sier said before she started, "I've only done this a handful of times."
"That's okay," Owen assured her, "you won't be the first person to blow out my vein trying to draw blood."
She looked at him questioningly.
"Army doctors." he explained with a chuckle.
"You were in the military?" Sier asked as Owen extended his arm.
Owen hummed in the affirmative.
"What did you do while you were with them?" She asked as she started her work.
"Oh, lots of things," Owen replied, nonchalantly, "most of them violent."
"Oh," she frowned as she tried to find a vein, "why did you stay in Ukraine?"
"Helicopter fell on top of me, got experimented on, then decided to take a decade long nap." Owen deadpanned.
Sier stared at him with a blank look on her face.
"It sounds weird when you say it out loud." UMP 9 said, as her sister studied him closely.
"Yeah," Owen said thoughtfully, "I guess you're right." He shrugged, "Oh well, it's the truth."
"It's definitely one of the stranger stories I've heard." Sier confirmed as she pulled the needle out of his arm. "And done." Sier announced as she placed three full vials into a tray and stood, "thanks for being a good patient."
"Do I get a lollipop?"
Sier let out a laugh, "Unfortunately I'm out."
"I'm done here too for now," Dier announced from his spot with a yawn, "and I want to get started on their maintenance." he said as he gestured to the 404 dolls.
"Guess that's my cue to leave." Owen said as he stood.
"I'll know what I'm dealing with tomorrow once I get all of the data I need." Dier told him, all business now, "once I know that, I can give you a time estimate as to how long it will take to have her back in service."
Owen nodded, impressed, "Thanks Dier, you're not as bad as they-" he hooked a thumb at 404, "-make you out to be."
Dier gave a semi amused chuckle, "I'm still not giving you a discount, now shoo, I have work to do."
With that, Owen turned to leave, but stopped when UMP 45 called his name.
"Are you going back to your Outpost?" She asked with an expression that seemed a little too disinterested.
For some reason, that set an alarm bell off in the back of his mind.
"I was actually planning on staying upstairs, if it's okay with Dier." He told her.
"It's alright with me." Dier said, dismissively as he ran through a checklist with HK 416.
"That's good." UMP 45 said with a thoughtful nod, "have a good night, Commander Owen."
"You too, I guess." Owen told her as the alarm bells continued in his head.
He frowned and went upstairs to inform his team of their temporary sleeping arrangements. He wasn't prepared for the reception he received upon entering the dining area.
"C-commander!" M3 cried out when she noticed him enter, "y-you're al-live!" She rushed to embrace him.
"Uh, yeah I am?" Owen said as he patted M3 on the head and looked at the rest of the dolls in confusion.
"We thought the dolls downstairs had either murdered you, or brainwashed you to do their bidding." AK-47 informed him.
"That explains nothing." Owen said with as much confusion in his voice as before.
"The dolls downstairs have a bit of a reputation." Spectre explained as she tried to pry M3 off of her commander.
"Why's that?" Owen asked, thinking back to UMP 45's sudden interest in whether they were going back to the Outpost.
"Some dolls seem to think of them as a sort of Griffin boogeydolls," Makarov informed him, "they allegedly kill anyone who crosses their path."
Owen rolled his eyes, "Well, y'all better get over that fear quick, because we're spending the night here."
The dolls erupted in protest with this revelation.
"I didn't bring a bedroll."
"I d-dont have my stuffed animal."
"I need a good night bottle of vodka."
Owen held up a hand, and once the complaints died down, Owen continued, "It's almost two in the morning, and we drove through raider territory to get here." He explained, "I'm not taking the chance."
"Also, since you're all worried about the monsters in the basement," He looked around, picked up a booth, and sat down, "Makarov, I want you to set up a security perimeter, have everyone rotate a watch tonight."
"So," he said as he took off his gear and laid it on the table, next he unbuttoned his flannel shirt, revealing his olive drab undershirt, and rolled it into a ball for a pillow, "I'm going to grab some shut eye."
With that, he placed his improvised pillow under his head and was snoring in under five minutes.
"I still don't understand how he does that." SVT-38 said in amazement, "I've never seen anyone fall asleep so fast without having a shutdown ability."
AK-47 hummed in agreement and wandered off to find a spot to sleep before Makarov could force her to do the first watch.
SVT-38 shook her head as she made her way over to where Makarov was conversing with Spectre.
"I'm going to set up on the rooftop," she told her team leader, "make sure no one tries to steal the van."
Makarov nodded, "Do you want me to send someone up to relieve you?"
SVT-38 shook her head, "Nyet, I don't mind staying up tonight."
With that, the rifle doll made her way outside and climbed the ladder that led to the roof. She then found a position with a good view of the abandoned neighborhood they were located in.
Once she was sure no one would be able to spot her from the ground, she settled in and began her watch.
Owen awoke the next day to the familiar sound of a large twin bladed helicopter landing nearby.
With a groan, Owen sat up, looked sleepily out of the window, and saw Colette's Huey settle down in a parking lot across the street from the abandoned coffee shop. The noise had apparently woken the others, as Owen heard a few dolls start to stir. With a yawn, Owen laid back down in his booth/bed, readjusted his shirt pillow, and drifted back into blessed sleep.
Only to be kicked in the leg ten minutes later.
"Get your ass up, you lazy bum." Colette's voice cut through his rest.
Owen groaned and waved a hand in an attempt to rid himself of the intruder.
"Don't you fucking shoo me."
With that, Owen felt a hand grab his ankle and yank him out of the booth, which caused him to fall onto the ground.
"Fuckin' ow." Owen mumbled.
"Quit your bitchin'." Colette said as she shoved a thermos under his nose, "I brought ya somethin'."
Owen glared at the pilot through bleary eyes and unscrewed the thermos. His nostrils were met with the heavenly aroma he knew from anywhere.
"You brought me Springfield's coffee?" Owen asked as he stared up at Colette with a look bordering reverence.
Colette looked down on Owen smugly, "I did, just for you."
"Marry me."
A giggle slipped out from Colette as she reached down to help Owen up, "In your dreams coffee whore."
"You know me too well." Owen said before taking a drink of the black nectar.
Colette looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could, the door to the coffee shop opened again as G36c made her way inside carrying multiple bags that looked like they were about to burst at the seams.
SVT-38 shuffled in behind her, with a dazed expression on her face.
"Excellent," G36c cheerfully said as she found a spot to place the bags and started unpacking. "you're all still alive." Owen saw that the bags were full of food for everyone.
"No we're not." Owen deadpanned from his spot on the floor. "We've all died, and this is hell."
As he said the last part, he waved a hand in front of him before he returned to his thermos of coffee.
"So being trapped with me is hell, is it?" Colette teased as she sat next to Owen.
"Depends on the day." Owen told her.
"How about today?" she asked.
"S'fine." Owen mumbled into the thermos before taking another drink.
"High praise."
Owen just hummed an agreement as he watched Makarov's team dig into the food G36c brought. He made a mental note that everyone seemed to be moving a little sluggish.
"How's Nines?" Colette asked.
Owen shrugged, "Not sure, Dier said he'd know today."
Colette gave him a confused look, "Who?"
Owen shrugged, "Alexander's… fuck, I don't know," he scratched his chin with his free hand, "he's like a pervy wonder kid when it comes to T-dolls."
"Ah," Colette nodded slowly, "okay then." She gestured to him, "And how are you?"
Owen turned to Colette and saw her concern, he turned back to watch the dolls wander around the abandoned coffee shop with their food.
"You've been talking to MP-40." He said in a clipped tone.
Colette let out a sigh, "Don't be like this Owen."
"Like what?" He asked.
"Yes, MP-40 talked to me, but she's worried, and so am I." Colette told him.
"I'm fine Colette." Owen told her dismissively and went back to work on his coffee.
"The hell you are." Colette snapped, her patience gone, "you look like death warmed over."
"That's rude." Owen commented between sips, "but probably accurate."
The two sat in silence for a bit, but Owen could sense something was eating at Colette.
"Is it because your girlfriend is in trouble?" She asked in a not quite hostile, but less than friendly tone.
"Yeah," Owen admitted, "I am worried."
Colette let out a snort, "So you admit she's your girlfriend."
"Nines gets hijacked by a Crazy Ivan spy personality and you're upset because you think we're dating." Owen stated flatly.
"I'm not upset," Colette said, clearly on the path of becoming upset, "I was just confirming you were dating said spy."
"I'm not dating anyone." Owen told her as he tried to keep voice level, "and I'm sure as hell not dating anyone I work with, because that would cause a lot of problems that I don't fucking need." He winced internally as he heard his voice rise.
"I know," Colette let out a weary sigh, "I'm sorry, I just…" she pulled her legs to her chest and laid her head on her knees , "I don't know, I'm worried about you and I'm not really thinking straight right now."
Owen sat the mug down between his legs, heaved a sigh, closed his eyes, opened them, and turned to face the pilot. Colette was looking at him with a mix of annoyance and concern, but mostly annoyance.
"Colette," Owen said, reached out, and grabbed one of her hands with both of his, "I do not have time to be anything other than your coworker right now." His words were slow and deliberate. "And we definitely can't have a repeat of what happened before."
He watched her face go from confused, which he thought was cute, to furious, which he thought was terrifying. She smacked his hands away and stood, grabbing his thermos as she did.
"You're a fucking asshole." Colette snapped at him, "I was actually worried about you." With that, she stormed out.
"Ah… fuck." He muttered to himself as he stared at the spot where he set the thermos down.
When Owen looked up, he saw that everyone in the room was staring. He let out a frustrated groan as he got to his feet, he was going to follow Colette, but Alexander chose that moment to appear from the back.
Once he saw the food G36c was serving everyone, he made a beeline for it, snapped up a package of toaster pastries and ripped it open.
He was halfway through his first pastry when he noticed Owen.
"Oh hey man," he said as crumbs flew out of his mouth, "Dier's ready to see you."
Everyone looked from Alexander, to Owen, to the door Colette just left through.
Owen turned to look outside and saw Colette storming across the abandoned road and towards her helicopter.
He briefly debated going after her, but sighed and decided to go see Dier.
Before he went, he warned Makarov that he was going to send UMP 45 and her team up to get some food if they wanted it.
"Who?" Makarov asked with a confused look.
"Ha, ha." Owen said, unamused, "Very funny."
"Komandir, I assure you I am not joking." She told him.
"The team that everyone was freaking out about last night?" Owen asked in frustration, "The ones you literally called boogie dolls?"
A spark of recognition shone through Makarov's red eyes, "Ah," she said in a distasteful tone, "them."
She stared around the room with a murderous glare, "If they were here, then I doubt we would know it even if they were."
"Uh huh." Owen said, unimpressed, "Well, I'm going downstairs now."
"Komandir, if you see that group of svoloch's, do me a favor and put a bullet between each of their eyes."
Owen frowned, but gave a slow nod and went downstairs to see Dier.
The young technician had dark bags under his eyes, but he had a triumphant grin on his face.
"I have to admit," he said in a tired voice, "you've brought me a very unique job here."
"How so?"
"First of all," Dier waved a hand to the table where Not Nines was at, "this is not a typical T-doll."
"I figured." Owner replied, impatient.
Dier shook his head, "You don't understand, this is probably one of the most advanced military dolls I have ever seen. The fact that someone was able to even gain access to her personality matrix, let alone try to do a quick and dirty rewrite of it is impressive."
"The rewrite is the problem though," Dier held up a data pad, "The original personality, obviously, wasn't rewritten, just suppressed, but suppressed well."
"That's impressive in and of itself though," he said, "because this doll can throw down some firewalls, let me tell you, the way she can just…"
Owen cleared his throat, which caused Dier to snap back to reality.
"Right," he said, "anyway, the problem started a few weeks ago when someone tried to remotely gain access to her…"
"Dier, I don't give a shit what happened." Owen said, his patience at its limit, "can you fix her?"
He gave Owen a cocky grin, "Absolutely, it will take a few days, but I can get her back to normal, no sweat, it'll cost you though."
Owen ran a hand over his face, "I don't give a shit about that," he glanced over at the sleeping Nines, "how long?"
Dier shrugged, "I don't know, a week, maybe sooner?"
"Alright," Owen said, "let Alexander know when it's time to come get her."
Dier yawned, "Alright," he said as he made a shooing motion, "now get out, I need a nap."
Owen thanked him, and turned to leave then stopped, "Hey Dier?"
"What?" The mechanic asked in between yawns.
"None of my team seem to remember UMP 45 or the others."
Dier just laughed, "Oh yeah, they have a habit of doing that so none of the other dolls remember them."
Another yawn, "Part of their whole, 'those who don't exist' persona. Oooo so spooky." He said mockingly.
Owen nodded, "I figured, thanks again."
Dier just waved him off a final time before he wandered off.
Owen took one last look at Nines before he made his way back up the stairs. He wasn't exactly looking forward to what came next.
He needed to smooth things over with Colette.
The sun beat down on him as he crossed the overgrown road to Colette's helicopter. As got close, he looked to see if she was in the cockpit, only to find it empty.
He made his way around to the side and found her sitting on the cargo floor facing away from the coffee shop with her legs hanging off the side.
Owen took a seat next to her and the two sat together in silence. As he tried to figure out what to say, his eyes danced over the bombed out building that the parking lot used to belong to.
Some part of his mind assessed the damage of the building and concluded that the damage was caused by some sort of guided munition. If he had to guess, the person who used the laser designator would probably have been on top of the coffee shop they were currently residing in.
Owen reigned his thoughts back in and turned to face Colette. He noticed her gaze was unfocused, she was zoned out.
He reached his hand slowly in front of her face and snapped his fingers once.
She blinked and turned to face him.
"So, I was kind of a dick back there." He admitted.
"Yeah no shit, and I didn't ask for you to follow me." She said in a flat voice.
He turned back to the ruined building, "Yeah I know."
"So why did you?" She snapped, "Aren't you worried your girlfriend will wake up without you by her side?"
Owen scratched the back of his head, "For starters she's not my girlfriend."
"Right, because you can't have a relationship with anyone you work with, because you've never done that before." Colette's voice was dripping with sarcasm towards the end.
Owen looked at Colette, his confusion plain on his face.
"What the hell is going on here?" He asked as he motioned to the two of them as he spoke "Tell me in plain English to help me understand."
Colette turned away from him, then after a few seconds she turned back to face him, and to his surprise, she had tears in her eyes.
"You're the only person I have ever allowed myself to get this close to." Her voice wavered as she spoke. "I lost almost everyone during the war, and I lost the rest after the war ended, and the people I knew before the war didn't…"
She shook her head and continued, "Of every I have ever known," she jabbed a finger in his direction, "you're the only one I ever actually…" she trailed off again as she studied his face.
"I remember that time you were shot down." She said as she stared across the parking lot.
Owen felt his body tense at the mention of the crash, but said nothing.
"I remember being crushed when they said you were dead, I remember sitting alone in that stupid fucking club house you guys built." she took a deep breath, "Then you were alive again, and you found me, I mean actually tracked me down and we…" she laughed, "well, you know what we did."
"When you came back and found me, I thought that you…that we…I thought that the reason you came back was because we were supposed to be together."
She let out another brittle laugh, "It's stupid, I know, and not just because it's the most cliche fucking fantasy I have ever had," she sighed, "but also because you died again, and you didn't come back the second time."
"Colette I-"
She shook her head, "No," she said, her voice shaky, "don't interrupt, if you interrupt, then I won't be able to finish, and I need to get this off my chest."
Owen obliged, to which Colette nodded in satisfaction and continued.
"For ten years I wandered around Europe, got a job flying people around, saved my money, bought a helicopter, and found my way back to a small town on the edge of a green zone in Ukraine."
She turned and studied him for a long time, after a while she turned back to the parking lot.
"Then you came back to me, and I thought it was fate that brought you back." She sighed.
"But this time there was someone with you, someone who was absolutely head over heels for you." Another amused snort, "And I know this because she acts the same way I did around you."
Colette shook her head, "But you asked me to join you, because you trusted me, and I immediately said yes, because I wanted, I want…."
She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder and they sat that way for a long time. Owen tried to process everything Colette had told him.
Those feelings he buried a little while ago apparently didn't want to stay buried.
Colette was the one who broke the silence again, "I know you don't like the idea of being in a relationship with a doll but…"
"That's not the reason why I'm avoiding a relationship." Owen said.
She looked up at him in surprise, "It's not?"
"No," he shook his head, "it's not."
Colette frowned, "Then why…"
"I thought it would be obvious."
"It's not."
Owen squinted across the parking lot, the sun now fully above them, "You remember how things used to be, right?"
He looked over to Colette who shrugged in confusion.
"After the," he grimaced, "the crash that me and DuLaney survived, I had to write letters to the families of the guys that didn't make it, let them know what happened."
"One guy, Perez, had a family, wife and a couple of kids." Colette looked up at Owen, who was staring at nothing as he spoke.
"It was the first time actually leading a team, so it was my first time having to…" he blinked, "explain that the lady's husband wasn't coming home."
"I thought it would be better if I told her on the phone, it uh…" he grimaced, "yeah, it wasn't better, she started sobbing and she ah…" he took a deep breath, and held it for a long time. "Yeah, she blamed me."
"So I'm sitting there, trying to explain it wasn't my fault, it wasn't really anyone's fault, but she's having none of it, y'know?"
Owen shook his head.
"And it didn't help that all of her yelling and sobbing at me worked her kids up, so I heard them crying and screaming in the background and that's when…" he took another deep breath and held it, "that's when it really kind sank in, that Perez had left everyone he cared about behind, and that uh, that devastated them."
Owen shrugged, "So she hung up on me," he paused, "and I'm sitting there in my hospital thinking, 'why the hell would I want to do that to someone?' you know?"
Colette said nothing, so Owen continued, "And I still feel that way. Why would I want to put you in a situation like that?"
Colette perked up, but still said nothing.
"It would be a shitty thing for me to do just because I wanted to be with you." He told her, "So I'm not going to do that to you."
Colette pushed herself away from Owen, but he had expected that after what he told her.
What he didn't expect was for her to hop down off of the helicopter, stand in front of him, cup his head in her hands, and force him to look her in the eyes.
"Owen, I want you to listen to me very carefully," she spoke slowly, mimicking the way he spoke to her earlier.
"Okay, I'm listening."
"I. Do not. Give. A. Fuck."
Owen let out a defeated sigh, "Colette look, I flrbrlbl."
She squished his cheeks together and shook her head.
"What happened to your friend sucked, but that's the risk he took, and I'm sure his wife knew it too." She said and Owen glared in response, but said nothing because Colette still had his face squished.
"You know I'm right," she told him, "and I'm pretty sure the reason she yelled at you, wasn't because she blamed you for his death, but because she was understandably upset, and you were the only one she could take it out on."
"That being said," she leaned down so their faces were almost touching, Owen had trouble looking at anything other than her bright blue green eyes that looked like they had won some sort of hard fought battle, "I also know the risk, hell, I'm taking the same risk."
She leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, Owen's brain immediately went fuzzy.
"I'm willing to take the risk with you." She told him, "All you have to do is say yes."
*QRF: Quick Reaction Force
A/N: I honestly wrote the part with Colette and Owen because I'm sick of writing them getting together and then deleting the scene chapter after chapter.
Seriously, I've done this at least 4 times now that I can remember. (I think it was five actually… -Beta)
Anyway, here you go, enjoy. Or don't. I'm going to take a nap now.