Chapter 2: Just a normal day at XCOM

A/N: Second chapter is here! This will mostly be explaining a few things to those that are new to XCOM or haven't heard of the Long War mod as well as throwing in my own ideas. Onto the story!

North America, unknown location

August 17, 2016

XCOM base Alpha

Johnson groaned, feeling the pressure of a heavy-weight boxer ontop of his body. He even felt his bones crack under the weight. The operative lifted itself up off of Johnson and offered a hand. He took the hand firmly, getting off the ground. He groaned again standing on wobbly feet. The pain was gleefully torturing him without mercy. Still, he managed to look around the Cafeteria despite his muscles protesting.

"You alright comrade?" A thick Russian accent asked with a hint of concern.

Johnson got up to see the Russian from earlier towering over him with a concerned expression.

"Yeah, thanks for helping me up," Johnson rubbed the back of his head, trying to soothe the pain.

"Good, I thought bone was broken. Big height."

"Yeah, you do have a… big height," Johnson nervously chuckled. He had just now realized how big he was compared to him. It was like a bear to a mouse and that bear could have easily crushed the mouse. Johnson had to thank his Adaptive Bone Marrow genemod for that.

The Cafeteria itself was a mess. Food, drink, and trays was scattered all over the place. Ceiling tiles and sparking wires hung forcing the people to duck so they wouldn't bonk their heads. Tables weren't in their neat rows or even toppled. People were buzzing about, helping their comrades or trying to retrieve their food. Johnson then turned around to check on how his team was doing.

Zhou was lifting his face off his plate. A spaghetti strand was latched between his nose and his lips giving him giving him a mustache over a mustache. Part of it was in his mouth and he just slurped it up., apparently still hungry. Cynthia was already helping up a Swedish operative. She then proceeded to rip a piece of her own uniform to bandage a bleeding wound on the forehead. Aleph stood ontop of a table just observing.

Then the alarm blared followed by a disembodied voice screaming over the PA system for all teams to gather at the Armory.

Johnson stood there in disbelief as the people around him blazed towards the armory. If all the strike teams were called up then something bad must be happening. Was it related to Strikes one through six being sent out? Or the giant blimp? Johnson sighed. He didn't have the time to figure it out and so went with the flow of people rushing towards the armory.

Johnson quickly found himself inside at the entrance Interrogation and Holding chamber where XCOM's alien POWs waiting for 'interrogation' if Johnson could call it that. Dr. Vahlen had a reputation of being a sadistic psychopath for probing the alien's brains for any juicy information they might have. He almost felt sorry for the aliens…almost.

Johnson could hear the thumping of boots and screams in the halls. It sounded like the end of the world. Hopefully it wasn't the end of the world.

If Johnson had to choose, he would have gone with the crowd. But being shoved and pushed to the ground constantly didn't bide well with him so he had to enter. Even in the Holding Area, it was chaos.

Half of the POWs inside their cells were going haywire. The small, frail Sectoids with their overhead, pineapple heads were running around in circles for no apparent reason. The uncanny human-like Thin Men simply stood in their blue, stripped business uniforms looking around in their shades. The frightening cyborg Floaters sent blood-curdling screams as they flew erratically and dragging their clawed, metal fingers downward on the glass. The intimidating, hulking Mutons were using their massive fists to bash the glass, or in some cases, their heads. That only made their already inflamed head more inflamed.

The Cryssalids, however, were unusually docile. They stood there peering at Johnson. He stopped to look back into their soulless, golden eyes. They seemed to be looking at him as if they were expecting something. Like how a dog would be waiting for a treat. Typically they would be frantically clawing at the glass and had to be subdued for fear of breaking out.. Now they're more like calm puppies.

The Ethereals just hovered passively. Purple psionic energy was clad to their robes, rolling down onto the floor of the cell forming a purple mist. The only thing that even indicated they were living things and not statues was when Johnson passed by them and they turned their heads to stare beneath their helmets. Johnson had also heard of the terrifying powers of the Ethereals, being able to bend the laws of nature to their advantage. They could not only could they make a veteran human with advanced tech into a cowering pup, but they could even form lighting storms or even cause minor earthquakes. It was no wonder why they were the leaders, but if they had that much power, why didn't they just break out?

Whatever the reason, Johnson was glad that they haven't broken out. He rushed passed them, shortly entering the Interrogation chamber where the latest victim was still being pulled out of the circular, glass container. A trio of scientists were huddled into a circle discussing things that Johnson didn't concern himself with. He was a soldier, not some spook.

Johnson made his way towards the door, but stopped when they opened. Chills went down his spine upon seeing the Cerman-French woman Dr. Vahlen. Her dirty-blonde hair was tied into a ponytail and her tired, blue eyes were trained on her tablet. Bags were around the eyes from countless, sleepless nights.

She didn't even stop to knowledge Johnson's existence. It was no wonder why she earned the reputation of being the 'Mega Bitch of the Galaxy'. Vahlen was more content working herself to death than hanging around with even her own team.

Johnson was just glad he wouldn't end up on either the autopsy table or the Interrogation Chamber. Sure, command denied it, saying it was the PSI operatives who got bored and mind-controlled rookies, but he knew for a fact that Vahlen would just love torturing humans like the one EXALT guy, so according to rumors.

Sure, EXALT was sympatric with the aliens and tried undermining XCOM's efforts, but they didn't deserve having their minds probed to. Maybe that was the reason why they injected poison into their necks when captured.

Eventually, Johnson found himself in the Engineering Section of the base. The sounds of people conversing, things being made, and machines going to work filled the air. Johnson could even taste the hard work of sweat, blood, and oil that the engineers put their hearts and souls in for ops. In turn, many operatives fondly refereed to the Chief Engineer, Dr. Shen, and his underling as 'Santa and his elves.'

"Operative!" A voice made Johnson froze and turned around to see an elderly Chinese man. The wrinkles told of his experience and he was rubbing a bump on his top, bald area of his head. His glasses had a small crack and a bulge hanging off his belly. He held a handgun-like device with a pipe-like protrusion sticking out. A white container was fastened onto it and a liquid Johnson couldn't identify swished around with every step.

"Dr. Shen sir!" Johnson saluted. Even if the Chief Engineer wasn't military, it was a sign of respect for the amount of awesome work that he put forth.

"There's no need for that Johnson," Shen narrowed his eyes to look at the name on the man's uniform, "but there's something I want you to do."

"Of course sir!" Johnson felt humbled. To do something for Dr. Shen was considered an honor among the operatives. Heck, when Dr. Shen came to the Barracks to ask for volunteers to test out new stuff, they had to randomly draw names because so many volunteered.

"I wouldn't put any of you in harms ways, but Dr. Vahlen believes that this… 'Cryssalid Gas' will turn a Cryssalid to our side. Both her and the Commander think this would benefit mankind as a whole. I, however, worry about the implications. We're turning more like into the alien' everyday, but it is for mankind's survival and so far the Commander had been right about a lot of things. Are you willing to try it? If not, I wouldn't worry about being called out on it."

Johnson's eyes widen and gulped. He couldn't believe that Vahlen AND the Commander wanted to see if they could make a Cryssalid into a pet. Worst case scenario he would be turned into an egg carrying zombie just waiting to burst open. But if it did work, then they would have a terrifying new weapon at their disposal.

"I'm willing to try it sir."

"Hmm, alright, be careful when going up close. Now, on how to use it is quite simple. Get close to a zombie and pull the trigger. The liquid will then transform into gas and hopefully rewire the Cryssalid's brain into thinking it is on our side. If it doesn't work the first time, leave it. It's not worth satisfying Vahlen if someone gets hurt or dies."

Johnson nodded and Dr. Shen smiled making Johnson feel comfortable. He handed the device over before making a beeline towards the infirmary to get his head checked after a roof tile fell on the top of his head.

Johnson studied the device in his hands. It was light despite its bulky appearance. As he examined it further, the sounds of inconstant chatter sounded ever closer. He must have been getting near the armory.

Johnson entered the packed armory. There were so many people that it seemed like every inch of the place was covered. He had to squeeze through to find his team. After what seemed like an eternity, Johnson found his team in the center of the crowd. They were in a heated debate on the possible reasons why they were all called upon.

"No! I'm telling you we lost the war and XCOM is being disbanded. That's why we've been called up! Then the aliens are going to have their ways with us!" Zhou was grinning.

"Zhou, why would you want the aliens to win? I think that we won the war, but something is going on," Cynthia crossed her arms.

"Like what?" Aleph asked, putting his hands behind his back.

"I-I don't know!' Cynthia rubbed her temple trying to guess at the reason.

"If you do not know, then your position is weak. I do not believe that we lost the war, but we didn't win it. Perhaps the aliens are finally changing from abductions and terror to full blown war? After all, we have culled their numbers and everytime now when we face an Ethereal in battle, they are either slain or captured for interrogation."

"You all know Mega Bitch uses anal probes," Zhou laughed.

"Stay on topic, Zhou. If you are unfocused then you will face defeat."

"Anything going on here?" Johnson asked as he walked into the circle.

"Nothing much besides from guessing the reason why we're all being called up," Cynthia answered.

"Alright you ladies!" A deep, thundering voice boomed across the armory. Everyone turned their heads towards the source which was a black man smoking a fat cigar. His steely brown eyes swept across the room regarding each person as if they were rookies in bootcamp."Thank you all for coming and not jerking off somewhere. I am the first person to announce we just won the war!"

Cheers began to erupt, but the man barked, quieting the crowd. He adjusted his dark green cap and said, "But the aliens are scrambling over each other and destroying everything in sight! So, what are we gonna do? Well, we're going to show those space fuckers that they couldn't pick a more worse enemy than the human race! When we meet the enemy, we will rip their skulls from their spines and throw them away, laughing! So keep your eyes down the sights and fingers on triggers and we all go home in one piece! Am I right?"

"Oh-rah!" The armory cheered.

"Damn right, but the Commander has tasked me with teaching you new bloods on some of the things you can carry into battle! And as for you vets, you might think you don't need to have the info rammed into your head again, but I know for a fact the lot of you don't know squat.

First up are weapons! They come in three lovely types. Ballistic, Laser, and Plasma! I know some of you just love shouting 'I'm firing meh lazer!' Don't! It just paints a big red target on you and the enemy will enjoy Swiss cheese. The aliens also just love cooking our operatives with their plasma! So the spooks down at RnD found a way to use their own weapons against them! Unfortunately, we don't have piles so only the high ranking ops get them. Ballistics were phased out as soon as lasers went into mass production, but RnD found a way to still make them badass. Men and women, I give you the AR. V2. This badass uses Plasma casing bullets to deal extra damage by penetrating the enemy's armor and do horrible things to them! What makes this baby even badder is that you can use the enemy's own ammo against them! In fact, they're so badass, they'll be standard issue!

Next is armor! Without it, you die. Simple as that. Carapace armor will be the most common and only the advanced armors will be issued to the most dangerous of ops. I also suggest you keep your helmets on unless you just looove choking on Thin Man poison! Or a BBQ. I'll quickly run by on the armors so quit daydreaming about your personal fantasies and pay attention!

Titan Armor protects you from hazards like fire and gas! No, it will not protect you against ARC guns! Archangel Armor allows you to fly for a limited time so use it wisely. Otherwise you become a splattered red dot on the ground. Shadow Armor turns you invisible for a time, but as soon as you fire you'll deactivate it. So don't go around behind the enemy and say 'Boo'. That will only result in your deserving demise! Vortex Armor, or 'PSI' armor, is reserved for those with Psionic Power and it increases their power level. We got other variants, but time is short and those aren't very useful anymore.

Then finally the special equipment! Nano Fiber will act as a second barrier from enemies putting holes into you and medkits will heal said holes! They are multi-dose to, so rookies don't get tricked if a vet throws you one and says 'single use'. Things like laser sights and scopes help you aim better and those of you who miss a shot by a whopping 13 feet, and I'm not kidding bout that, will help you aim. Grenades come in four kinds. The explodey kind, the one that makes you blind, one that smokes, and one that turns you into a stealth master! Remember that things like HE grenades will dish out less pain at the edges than the center. Flashbangs can blind an aliens for a limited amount of time and won't work against certain aliens. Smoke grenades cloak you in a thick mist of whatever making it harder to be hit. Ghost grenades can turn you invisible, but also enemies! Now go out and kick some alien butt!"

The armory erupted with cheers and shouts. The operatives rushed to their lockers or racks to retrieve various pieces of equipment for their ops.

Johnson punched in his locker combination and opened the door. Inside, was a carapace armor colored black, the standard color of all XCOM armors. He took it out and threw it on. The weight was light so he moved as if he wasn't wearing it at all. Johnson then pulled out a pair of grenades and slapped them onto his hips. He then ran over to the racks and picked up his favorite weapon. The scatter laser.

The scatter laser saved his life was countless. While the weapon itself was inferior to its newer, powerful cousin, the Alloy Cannon, they were plentiful. Combined with the cluster of laser array that form multiple lasers instead of splitting it up and packing a strong bite, they were a dream weapon for CQC.

The small, boxy gun's tip was a light shade of crimson. The six 'barrels' were flat and blended into the gun itself, only identified by their glowing crimson. Small, boxes with Xs were on either side and were used to reflect the lasers thanks to the 'special material'. Whatever that was.

Johnson grinned as he was about to place it onto his back when a firm hand placed itself on the mid area of the scatter laser. He let out a yelp of surprise and looked at the owner. It was the operative who gave the speech… and he was holding a regular rifle.

"Oh hell no. This is reserved for the mid-ranks, grunt! You're only a low-tier grunt so you get to test fire our new pack-a-punch weapons!"

The man then proceeded to yank the scatter laser away and shoved the rifle onto Johnson. He fumbled slightly, caught by surprise. He tried protesting, but the operative just walked away with the scatter laser. Johnson huffed, angry that he was forced to 'test' the new weapons.

"All Strike Teams! Report to the Hanger ASAP!" The PA shrieked, motivating the slow movers into hauling ass least they get left behind by their teams.

Johnson just ran out of the armory not even bothering to track the man down. He had to get to the Hanger otherwise there was a chance that he and his team would get picked for cleanup duty. That would be dreadfully boring.

Johnson entered the massive hanger mere moments after the announcement. His labored breath was slow just like how he would do before an exam. After getting his bearings, Johnson looked around the carven. Even after coming here for ops time after time, it still amazed him how huge this place was. It looked as if it could easily fit two football stadiums. Skyrangers were lined up all in neat rows ready for takeoff and above them were Interceptors standing proudly on platforms. Their shiner, more alien like cousins, the Firestorms, simply sat there thanks to their circular-shape. Their silver-blue hulls gleamed menacingly, but were few in numbers thanks to limited resources and the aliens' relentless, superior aerial attacks.

All around people milled about. Soldiers were doing things ranging from checking equipment to praying to some god, staff preparing for the ops to follow, and pilots jumping into their cockpits.

"We have Skyrangers coming in! I repeat Skyrangers are coming home! Clear the deck!" A shout rumbled throughout the Hanger.

Sirens began to boom as if to confirm what just had been said. The trapdoors slid off to the sides allowing six Skyrangers to descend into the Hanger. When they landed, the ramp dropped down with bruised, battered, and bloodied operatives to drag themselves out. Some were also dragging bodies, some of which were mutilated beyond recognized. Paramedics rushed to help the wounded, putting them on stretchers and hastily exited the hanger. No words were exchanged as the process went on before Johnson's amazed eyes. How they worked so flawlessly was the results of months of repeated scenes. Scenes where people were wounded or even killed. Rarely did entire teams come home intact.

But now, late in the war, and even more so now that the aliens were in disarray, the tide had turned. Op after op was completed with minimal loss causing a sense of invincibility among the newer recruits. The older ones still excised caution though, but Johnson was sure that if they played smart everyone would come back fine.

"Alright everyone," everyone turned to the source of the voice. On a screen displaying the Geoscap, a white man in his late thirties wearing a green sweater stood holding up a hand to an earpiece.

Bardford. Johnson remembered the name. The man was second in command to the Commander and his role was to feed tactical info to Strike Teams.

"Because of the situation we are currently in, the Commander saw it fit to allow teams to choose their Skyranger which will then carry you to the op site. We'll get teams paired once we get information in and determine which situations are the most pressing. Now go get them boys and girls!"

Johnson didn't pick a Skyranger immediately unlike others who dragged their entire team into a Skyranger. He would wait till the gang got together and discussed it, even if they disagreed on which one to take. The wait, thankfully, wasn't long as the members of Strike Diamond found him one by one.

"So, which Skyranger do we pick? Just hop in one and see where it takes us?" Johnson crossed his arms waiting for a reply.

"That one," Aleph pointed to a Skyranger with the word Crow painted in white on the side.

"Why?"

"Because it will take us to Raccoon City. A friend of the Council is there and reports from civs suggest alien activity. The aliens likely were planning on abducting the person, but now they're thrown into disarray."

"Ohh," Zhou grinned and his ears perked upon hearing 'Raccoon City', "was this city built by a corporation that makes umbrellas?"

"No."

Zhou's grin faded into a frown and he asked, "Is there a mansion in the middle of nowhere?"

"Not from what I know of. Now let us claim it before anyone else does."

"Have there been any reports of crazed, cannibal people?"

" Zhou," Aleph's voice didn't rise, but it took a steely edge to it that made Zhou stop with the questions, "we take the Skyranger and head to Raccoon City. I doubt anything bad will happen as the Ethereals were incompetent and would have just sent Thin Men to abduct the VIP. An easy mission for us."

"Aww, but Thin Men pop like a worm in a microwave. I hate it."

"Stay clear of the gas then," Cynthia sneered as she begun to walk towards the Skyranger.

"But I like inhaling gas. I heard it's supposed to be healthy for the lungs!"

"What?" Johnson raised his eyebrows, baffled.

"Zhou must have been listening to the higher ups. You know how they are when boredom has reached its limit," Aleph explained as he walked past Johnson towards the Skyranger.

Johnson just shook his head. He learned not to listen to the higher ups the hard way. When they got bored, things always got interesting. Johnson still had nightmares of Sectoid heads all in the restroom toilets and he was forced to enter the girl's restroom. Things got hairy with a group of not one, not two, but seven female PSI ops.

It was a brisk walk to the Skyranger and the pilot's southern American accent boomed over the overheads.

"Welcome to Crow Airlines! We thank ye for choosing to fly with us! Buckle in ye younglings for Raccoon City!"

"Man, XCOM must be scrapping the bottom of the barrel now if this guy is a pilot," Johnson thought as he took a seat near the cockpit.

Johnson felt the Skyranger purr as the engines started up and the rumble upon takeoff. Shortly after a Holo Screen mineralized at the ramp, the face of a young, white man in a green sweater was on it. The man's piercing green eyes had tire bags under them. The man stifled a yawn trying to maintain a professional atmosphere, but sleepless night after night was starting to get to him.

"Strike Diamond, correct?"

"Yes, that's us," Johnson answered. He leaned back against the hard, cold seat.

"Alright then, you're head towards Raccoon City. Reports indicate heavy X-Ray activity," the man briefed them, using the slang word 'X-Ray' for alien," and a 'Jack Smith', a friend of the Council, was there to help with relief efforts when the X-Rays went apeshit."

"Is Jack Smith a military officer?" Cynthia asked. She had her legs and arms crossed with a raised, questioning eyebrow.

"No. Politician."

"So we're saving a very much possible ungrateful asshole."

"No," the man growled in irritation."Listen, just get down there and get him out. Strike Red will be with you on this op and they've had experience with VIP escort. Follow their lead and you'll make it home in one piece, likely."

"Do we have any more Intel on the situation?" Aleph spoke up, his eyes staring down at his helmet.

The man placed both his hands on his face and let out a deep sigh.

"If you knew what kind of hell is going on in the Geoscape you would understand, but that is all we have at the moment. I'll keep you updated as information becomes available. In the meantime, just get Smith out of there."

"Copy that."

"We're be nearing the OP site! Thanks for choosing Crow Airlines and we'll be seeing ye when ya get back!"

Even despite the thick walls of the Skyranger, Johnson could smell the scent of burnt flesh.