Scars, Command, and Shitty Landslides
Massachusetts moved silently around the edges of the empty facility, watching the two Freelancers below, her loaded gun in hand. There were many abandoned bases left over after the Freelancers broke away from Command, and several still contained details on some of the Agents. The Meta was here, using the old databases to determine its next target. She crept forward, trying to hear what Agent Washington and South Dakota were saying. If they had a plan to draw the Meta out, they could possibly manipulate it and use it to her own advantage.
"In the last month, I've been ordered to the sites of five different dying Freelancers in an effort to recover their intelligence programs," Washington said to South Dakota, a strange green glow next to him, just out of Massachusetts' line of sight.
"Why you?" The purple Agent asked. Massachusetts moved along the wall, trying to get a better view of the green thing. However, a voice rang out, clear as day, and she knew instantly what was causing the light.
"Agent Washington's experience with the Epsilon program makes him a primary candidate for recovery," replied Delta, making the hiding Freelancer gasp. They still had Delta?
"Epsilon?" South Dakota exclaimed, waving her gun. "Epsilon went insane and killed itself inside his head! And from what I heard from the other recruits, he went nuts himself. Weren't you certified Article Twelve after that? Unfit for duty."
Washington shrugged his shoulder.
"The people who certified me were the same people that uncertified me. Which, once they needed me, they did. Funny how the system works."
"In either case, he is the logical choice. It is highly unlikely Wash would attempt to steal an A.I. for his own purposes," Delta concluded.
"Every Freelancer I've seen in the last four weeks has had three things in common: their A.I. was missing - but Delta here was left somehow; I think that was a fluke."
"My assignee was killed in an unrelated fire fight."
Massachusetts winced, remembering the feeling of York's body going cold beneath hers. She stopped listening for a moment, distracted by her memories. Then she collected herself again. She needed to find out what they knew about the Meta. It seemed as if Washington hadn't heard of it yet, which was strange. Then again, rebel Freelancers were always well informed of Command's enemies.
"...Freelancers are being killed, South. And someone, or something is stealing their A.I. and enhancements."
"And now Agent Washington is trying to escort us back to headquarters as quickly as possible-" Delta began, but he was interrupted.
"No. I'm not," Washington said bluntly. Delta looked over at him.
Excuse me?
"We don't need to. I've been following the trail of this thing for a while now. But once I got you, Delta, that changed. Now we're the ones being followed. South being left alive was nothing more than bait to slow me down. This thing has already killed four different Freelancers, South."
"All agents with higher battle ratings than Wash."
"Yes, thank you for pointing that out Delta," Washington replied sharply, frowning at the A.I.'s words. One of them was Massachusetts, although he hadn't been the one to collect. Another Recovery Agent was assigned to her beacon whilst he was on his way to York's, only they disappeared off the map. Apparently, Recovery Three had rebelled, but as to why, Washington didn't know. Massachusetts had disappeared as well, and as her whole base had collapsed, Command had assumed she was buried under the rubble, her beacon too damaged to work anymore. Illinois' body had been dug up not long ago, and Washington suspected Massachusetts had something to do with the bullet wound in her head. He also had a hunch she wasn't dead, either, and that Recovery Three was actually trapped under the base, his Recovery Unit stolen by the person he'd gone to help.
Had he not suffered mental difficulties, thanks to Sigma, he may have reached York much earlier, meaning he would have been available for Massachusetts' beacon. He ended up taking several days to reach his target instead. Then he had to drive to the other side of the country to get to South, which took even longer.
"I'm not going to be able to take it out by myself," Washington continued. "Someone has to help me, protect Delta as well."
"I see now. That is why you want me to implant in South."
"Excuse me?" South Dakota asked, stunned. "In who?"
"The only way to properly protect me in combat is to integrate me in to your armour," Delta explained. "Agent Washington will not allow me to do that."
"And somebody has to," Washington added.
"I can't, a-I haven't been rated for implantation," she stammered, unable to believe it.
"Well, make up your mind quickly," he replied. "It's here."
"My motion sensors-" Delta began, but Washington cut him off.
"Are going to be useless. South, get Delta in your head now, and flank left. We have to stand against this thing here-"
Massachusetts sat perched on the wall, looking at the area Washington was staring at. She couldn't see anything. Suddenly, a rocket was fired, flying straight over Washington's shoulder. Quickly, Massachusetts moved around, trying to get a better view of the attacker. She was vaguely aware of South Dakota attempting to get Delta inside her head, but paid little attention. She tried to edge closer to the firefight, and watched as South Dakota staggered over to Washington, who was calling for her, the A.I. in her head clearly taking its toll.
"Wash, I'm here," the purple Freelancer said, moving behind Washington and firing her weapon, both of them crouched next to a crate for cover.
"Good, I need help on the left. This guy moves fast, so keep your eyes open," he replied.
Thanks to my speed enhancement, Massachusetts thought bitterly. Washington looked slightly over his shoulder when his ally didn't reply.
"South, you okay?"
"She is experiencing difficulty with my presence," Delta said.
"How difficult?"
"Patient has trouble-"
"I'm fine!" South Dakota cried, aiming her weapon at the target. "Let's get this guy."
"No," Washington said bluntly.
"No?"
"See that ship? You get to it and take off. Get yourself and more importantly Delta back to base. I'll cover you as best I can."
"Wash, is your armour adequately compensating for your wounds? " Delta asked, scanning through Washington's statistics.
"You're hit?" the purple Freelancer asked, glancing down at him. Washington shook his head.
"Just twice, I'm fine. Movement on twos. On my mark: sync."
"But-" South Dakota began, but he interrupted her urgently.
"Sync!"
"Sync!" she replied, knowing she was better off doing as he said.
"Move!"
Massachusetts watched as Washington ran out from his cover, ready to put himself at risk to get South Dakota and Delta out to safety. Then she saw the purple Freelancer raise her weapon and fire, gunning Washington down.
"Alarm! Friendly target, cease fire," Delta said loudly. South Dakota shook her head.
"Calm down; just stacking the deck in our favour," she muttered, and then approached the Meta. Massachusetts realised she had betrayed Washington so that she could get away.
"That little bitch!" she whispered to herself, as the Meta ran to Washington's body, while South Dakota fled to the aircraft so she could escape. Then Massachusetts felt slightly guilty. Hadn't she done exactly the same thing, yet now someone else was doing it, she hated it?
Whatever she thought about herself, now was not the time. Washington might still be alive. The Meta was not going to get hold of anything. As the aircraft overhead flew away, Massachusetts jumped down and charged towards the white figure crouched over the fallen Freelancer. She half expected the Meta to see her and open fire. What she didn't expect to see was a faint, orange hologram and an even fainter purple one hovering over his head.
"Sig!" Massachusetts yelled, opening fire. The Meta looked up, reaching for his gun, but then paused, looking up to the sky. Then he turned and fled, his speed astonishing. It appeared, combined with the other Freelancer equipment, the speed enhancement's effect was greatly increased. Massachusetts ran to Washington's side and kneeled down. She could go after Sigma now...but this was far more important. Taking a deep breath, she activated Washington's healing unit, before doing the only other thing she could.
She called Command.
Massachusetts eyed the approaching soldiers warily, her silver armour illuminated by the green glow of Washington's active healing aid. One of them, with the medic insignia on his basic uniform, held his hands up to show he wasn't armed, and then moved forward, kneeling down by the fallen Recovery Agent. Massachusetts watched as the soldier removed the armour plating, and then attempting to roll him over. She sighed and kneeled down, helping him. The medic looked up and nodded in silent thanks, before pulling several slender, metallic tools from a pouch on his belt and cutting away the skin-tight suit that covered Washington's body. Massachusetts shivered. All over the unconscious Freelancer's skin were horrendous scars, and she realised they were self-inflicted. Was Epsilon's insanity so extreme that it drove him to gouging chunks out of himself? The medic leant over, easing a sterilised tool into one of the many bullet wounds, and with a speed that surprised Massachusetts, removed a small, bloodstained piece of metal.
It was some time before the medic stepped away. He looked grim.
"I've done all I can," he said, turning to his superior. "At least now he can be moved without risk of further injury. However, there are still a few bullets near his vital organs that I didn't dare risk touching. It would be incredibly dangerous, especially in this open, unsterilized area."
The officer nodded and signalled for the other men to come closer. Massachusetts watched Washington lifted and wrapped tightly in strange, white blankets, which, when she asked, turned out to be a new practice: it kept the wounds protected from dirt and infection. Then he was lifted onto a stretcher and taken onto a nearby helicopter, several soldiers following with his armour, before being airlifted out. When the roar of its blades faded away into the distance, Massachusetts glanced over to the officer, who was staring at her.
"Yes?" she asked, not liking his expression at all. The officer smiled at her pleasantly.
"Whilst Command is grateful that you brought Agent Washington's condition to our attention, we simply cannot overlook your crimes. You stole military property: the A.I. Sigma, and murdered countless Command officials in the process…not to mention the hundreds of illegal activities you have assisted with over the year. I heard you even assassinated the ruler of a communist country. Either way, Command is willing to cover these little…details up, provided you cooperate with us and allow yourself to be detained until further notice."
Massachusetts sighed.
"You know," she said heavily, "I was expecting this."
"Yet still you called us? Very noble."
"I'm about to be even more noble. You know as well as I do that I am not going to 'come quietly' with you. I'm guessing you actually planned on it, which is why you have all the extra soldiers. I mean, it's much easier just to kill a Freelancer off and claim it was necessary, rather than arrest me, keep me in a cell, go through all the bastard paperwork, and then send me to court. Am I right?"
"Yes, true, but I don't see how you realising all of this is 'noble'," the officer replied, snorting.
"Usually I'd just kill you all for trying, but I'm going to give you a chance. I'm going to run like hell, and I'm not going to shoot back. I've changed…I don't want more deaths on my hands that could have been avoided."
The officer rolled his eyes.
"Well, thank you for making our job so much easier," he said, grinning and raising his gun. Massachusetts jumped forward, swinging her pistol and knocking the officer's own out of his hand, before cracking him across the face with it. He hit the floor, clutching at his broken nose and fractured jaw, blood gushing from between his fingers, and looked up at her.
"I said I wouldn't shoot," she said acidly, and then turned on her heel, sprinting towards her Warthog. Immediately, the soldiers opened fire, but she had already dived into the jeep, firing up the engine. She put her foot down on the pedal, and the Warthog shot forward, running over a group of soldiers who had tried to block her way. She winced as they rolled over the windscreen, the snapping of bones clearly audible over the jeep's motor. A few Warthogs attempted to drive after her, but a well tossed grenade on a rocky ledge brought upon a blockade of boulders, preventing Command from pursuing after her.
Sighing, Massachusetts placed the Recovery unit back in the dashboard of the jeep, waiting to see if she had lost the Meta for good. Surprisingly, his tag came up immediately. It seemed as though he had taken her lack of pursuit as her giving up, and so had slowed his attempts to escape.
"Idiot," she snorted, pressing hard on the pedal with her foot.
Within hours, the Meta was in sight, attempting to get away on Washington's Warthog. Quickly, Massachusetts pulled off a plasma grenade from her belt, one of the few things she had salvaged from the ruined mountain base. She had come into contact with Arkansas and Iowa since she had disposed of Missouri. They asked where he was, to which she replied 'K.I.A.', lying through her teeth. Killed In Action? She had murdered him, once again to save her own skin, the same way she had done to his wife. She had endured many sleepless, guilt riddled nights since she had left Last Resort, wondering whether or not the alien creatures had found Missouri. Still, eventually she would get Sigma back, and then things would return to normal. She would need no one, and start rebuilding her old, mercenary life again.
For now, though, she needed all the help she could get. Arkansas had given his condolences over Missouri, and then pinpointed the Meta's location for Massachusetts, giving exact coordinates. He had warned her that Agent Washington was in the area, however, and that Command could be nearby. She had given her thanks, and had not spoken to him since.
Massachusetts clicked the activation button on the grenade as she drew level with the other Warthog, and then tossed it on the backseat, before breaking quickly. The Meta turned and saw the danger, jumping out of his vehicle just in time; a few seconds later, it exploded. Massachusetts watched as her enemy was flung across the dusty ground, blue erupting behind him, the Warthog spinning magnificently in the, before landing heavily, completely broken. She stepped out of her own jeep, picking up the gravity hammer and holding it aloft.
"You've nowhere left to go, Maine," she called out, taking a step forward. "Give me Sigma, and we can leave each other in peace."
She watched as he ran over to the Warthog, and she shook her head. It was on fire; did he not know when to give up?
Then she took a step back as he picked up the wreck of metal, before turning around and throwing it at her. Massachusetts swung out with the hammer, hitting the flying car dead on, but then yelling in surprise as the sheer force behind the weapon tore it from her grasp, sending it spinning high into the air with incredible speed. Both she and the Meta watched as it shot up like a rocket, before tumbling gracefully down and slamming into the side of a grey cliff. The rock crumbled, and the hammer bounced off, ricocheting violently all around the cliff face. Suddenly, the whole thing collapsed, and the two Freelancers found themselves facing a massive landslide.
"Well, shit," Massachusetts said.
For a few moments, all she could do was watch the rush of stone cascade towards her. Then she snapped to her sense, and sprinted to the Warthog, revving up the engine.
"Maine!" she yelled out, and he looked at her, tilting his head to one side. "Get the fuck in! You have my A.I., and I'm not losing her! We can settle our shit later!"
The Meta paused momentarily, and then leapt into the passenger seat. Massachusetts hit the pedal, and they set off, the deal wave of rock looming menacingly on them. Then Massachusetts spotted a gorge. She always seemed to encounter them nowadays, and she grinned behind her visor. This was just like the old days with her and Sigma. The Meta realised at the last second what she was going to do, and tried to take hold of the steering wheel, just as the wheels left the edge and they hurtled through the air, the landslide rushing down into the gorge behind them.
"We're gonna make it!" Massachusetts yelled happily, while the Meta merely clung to the Warthog door and said nothing. As they hit the other side, though, they over rotated, flipping over and rolling across the landscape, being mercilessly rattled around inside the jeep. It flipped again and they were both thrown out, skidding heavily along the floor, their armour making an unpleasant scraping noise as they went.
For a moment, Massachusetts was silent, unable to believe she was alive. Then she sat up, pulling her pistol from its holster.
"Now," she said, pointing the gun at the Meta's head, "where were we?"
Author's notes: Two things. First, the idea that Silent Memento gave me was the whole Aliens and Massa shooting Missouri thing last chapter. Originally, it was just a Covenant patrol, but I changed it to make it a betrayal.
Secondly, the final two chapters, when I get to them, will be posted at the same time, as they are best read together.