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Six Hours Later, The Pentagon, Colonel Samantha Carter's POV
I wonder what's so important that General O'Neill want to see me? she thought was she entered the building itself and began to navigate her way to the briefing room her former C.O had asked her to go to.
She had been hip deep in data, trying to figure out precisely what had happened to Area Fifty-One when he'd called, and unfortunately she hadn't been able to provide him with much more in the way of information on how it'd been done. She'd been able to confirm thus far that it had indeed been Hawking radiation, leading to the logical conclusion that a mini-black hole had indeed been temporarily created. This boggled the mind since she'd never known one to be made then simply disappear after a few seconds. Everything she'd known about black holes told her that once they formed they stayed formed indefinitely, with nothing known being able to shut one down.
The glassed ground touched by the phenomena had been confirmed as existing five kilometers down, forming an almost perfect half sphere. This confirmed all the other data from the survivors of the shape of the phenomena but still left the question of how it'd been accomplished in the first place. No technology she'd encountered in her long career could create black holes and then collapse them, so she was currently working under the hypothesis that the artificial black holes were naturally unstable. It would explain their temporary nature since the instability would cause it to collapse in on itself after a few seconds once it passed a certain size requirement.
For someone to turn such a device into a weapon… she didn't like the implications.
Earth and its allies would suffer massive casualties before figuring out how to properly protect themselves, making her pray that the devices were difficult to make and could not be produced in bulk.
She had managed a little better with her investigations into what'd cut the wired communications for the Groom Lake facility but it was still something of a mystery. According to her data, the impact points had been struck with an unknown type of incendiary gel, superheating the affected area and utterly destroying the cables. Her preliminary analysis indicated that it could be some kind of plasma based weaponry but she'd need more time to confirm that beyond a reasonable doubt. One of the other technicians assigned to analyze had said something about feeling like he knew something that connected the two but that he couldn't put his finger on it. She'd told him to keep thinking and to let her know if something more definite came to him.
I wonder if Jack's feeling the pressure from above and that's why he's calling me in? she thought as she entered the elevator that'd take her up a floor. If he's looking for something to throw them to make them back off, I'm afraid he's going to have to look elsewhere.
The elevator door was just starting to close when someone yelled "HOLD THE DOOR!"
On reflex she did just that but, when the person who yelled reached the elevator, she got a rather pleasant surprise.
"Dad!" she exclaimed with surprise and joy as her father, General Jacob Carter, entered her field of vision. "What're you doing here?!"
It had been a couple of months since the last time she'd seen him but ever since the close call a little under four years ago, she was grateful for every moment they had together.
It had been almost four years ago that her father had almost perished when the Tok'ra symbiote Selmak fell into a coma. While it hadn't been enough to keep them from successfully reprogramming the super weapon on Dakara in order to defeat the Replicator threat, it had caused her father's health to take a drastic turn for the worse soon after. The two life forms had been so closely interwoven after years of being blended that Selmak's deterioration had been echoed in her father's human body. Everyone had thought they were witnessing the final days of General Jacob Carter but at the last minute his vitals began to climb closer to what could be considered healthy. It took a few hours but eventually her father woke up with his body well on the way to making a full recovery. There had been many theories as to what'd happened and why they'd been blessed with a change in luck but no real satisfactory explanation had been devised. The best they'd been able to come up with had been that Selmak had briefly managed to rise halfway out of her coma and somehow, instinctively perhaps, had managed to severe the connection between the two of them. After that there had been nothing keeping her father's body from recovering and eventually regaining consciousness.
With the loss of the symbiote, though, the Tok'ra had been even less trusting than before of her father and had effectively cut him out of the loop. In their eyes he'd been reduced from the host of one of their oldest members to merely an errand boy to convey what information they chose to give the SGC to them, as well as pass along whatever demands they might have. Their previous distrust had come from the belief that her father had divided Selmak's loyalties between Earth and the Tok'ra but after the symbiote's death her father had been seen not as kin but as an outsider. Her father had stuck it out for as long as he could, had done his best to not only maintain the alliance, but also improve its condition, but in the end the reduction in their numbers at the hands of Anubis had changed them drastically. They'd gone from a group determined to bring about the end of the Goa'uld System Lords to people more concerned with preserving themselves and their society than taking action. In the end they'd pretty much been reduced to a source of information for the SGC rather than people that could be called upon to help in a fight.
Eventually her father had gotten fed up with his treatment and resigned, returning to Earth to become a military consultant. While her father didn't retain all of Selmak's knowledge, there was still a healthy amount in his brain and, after an initial transcribing of all he could recall, the top brass put him on call for whenever they came across something very old or exotic. There had been several times that the few tidbits of knowledge he'd retained had proved vital during their struggle against the Ori but lately he'd been talking about retirement. While there was still a threat of sorts out there in the form of the Lucian Alliance, it was the basic consensus that there were no more credible threats to Earth or its off world allies any longer. With no dire need of his services her father had told her he was finally going to hang up his uniform and enjoy his remaining years doing whatever retired people do. In fact he'd be officially out of the service in four months, assuming no new threat presented itself.
For a moment her mind considered that the destruction of Area Fifty-One and hoped that her father's retirement wouldn't be put on hold for the foreseeable future.
He'd more than earned it in her opinion.
"Jack called me in to take a look at some intel he was handed a couple of hours ago," he replied as he got into the elevator and pressed the button for the second floor. "He wouldn't say what it was over the phone but, given how he sounded, I think something big has happened."
"Bigger than what happened to the Groom Lake facility?" she asked, worried that her earlier concern about a new threat being on the move might be more real than she'd intended.
"He didn't say," he replied as they reached the second floor and the doors opened.
"Then let's go find out." they left the elevator and began to make their way to the briefing room.
It didn't take long and, when they entered, they found a few high ranking officers, some foreign representatives if her eyes judged right, and Jack waiting for them.
"Jacob, Sam, glad you could make it so quickly," Jack said with a cracked smile before gesturing to the two empty seats. "As much as I'd like to catch up, things've gotten a little volatile in the last couple of hours. So if you could take your seats we can get this briefing underway."
It shocked her for a moment to see her old commanding officer so business-oriented since usually he preferred to keep things informal. If things had gotten bad enough that the General was deviating from his normal ways, something big indeed must've happened. Shaking herself out of it, she went to her seat and, when both her and her father were in their seats, Jack clicked a button, causing the lights to dim and the cover of a report to appear on the projection screen.
"Most of you already know why we're here but since there are a few who don't I'll summarize things." Jack said taking on a tone befitting a General. "Six hours ago five separate members of the International Oversight Advisory committee were killed along with many of the people around their immediate vicinity. Carl Strom, Russel Chapman, Shen Xiaoyi, Jean LaPierre and Colonel Chekov were all killed at precisely the same time at their respective locations around the world. Normally this wouldn't be enough to be brought to the attention of Homeworld Security but when people began canvassing the crime scenes they found out some interesting tidbits.
"Carl Strom was killed outside his home while he was holding a gathering of friends, family and VIPs. Rumor around the water cooler was that he had plans to begin a political career," Jack explained after pressing a button that caused in image of a lawn covered in bodies to appear. "There was no warning of the attack. One second everything was fine the next Strom had been decapitated by a high caliber sniper round. Forensic teams found the bullet but thus far haven't been able to match it to any known gun. After the initial kill the assassin opened up with a minigun and began to systematically kill every other person present at the party before seizing control of the automated gas stove in the house and causing it to detonate, killing two people who'd taken refuge close by."
"A minigun?" she asked still a bit stunned by the initial revelation. "Did the killer enter the property? If they did then the security systems must've caught a picture."
"No. The security of the home and the grounds have already been reviewed and no one entered or approached the property between when the shooting started and when law enforcement arrived." O'Neill replied, shaking his head in the negative.
"But a minigun isn't an effective weapon at the same range as a sniper rifle," Jacob said, pointing out what any military officer knew. "To kill the party guests like you said, he or she would've needed to get much closer."
"Normally that would be the case but no shell casings or footprints were found within the prescribed effective range of a minigun. The current theory is that the minigun was somehow augmented to increase its range and accuracy," said the head of Homeworld Security. "When the network in the house was examined there were 'fingerprints' left behind by whoever took control of the automated gas stove. While the security on the household network wasn't anything impressive, the computer technicians indicated that the perpetrator must have been a high level hacker given the short amount of time between initial contact with the system and the changes had been made. The hacker even left behind what they're calling an 'Easter Egg' program on Strom's computer but so far they haven't been able to crack it. They figure it's a calling card of sorts."
"I'd be willing to take a crack at it, sir." she said, volunteering her scientific services.
"I appreciate the offer, Colonel, but we've already assigned Doctor McKay to the task," Jack said with a bit of a wince. "If or when he fails, it'll be handed over to you."
She knew where the wince came from.
While Rodney was without a doubt a brilliant scientist, his ego often made him difficult to interact with.
"Ambassador Holland will summarize the assassination that occurred in the United Kingdom." O'Neill said before turning to the balding man in question.
"At the same time as the attack on Carl Strom, our IOA representative Russel Chapman was attacked and killed inside the Defence Intelligence and Security Centre, along with all employees present at the time." Holland said after General O'Neill pressed a button to change the projection image to that of a split image with a demolished parking lot on the left and a chaotic office area on the right. "Based on evidence gathered, the assassin infiltrated the centre and made her way to Mister Chapman's office whereupon she killed him by stabbing him through the heart with a decorative sword that normally rested on his desk. She then killed a man he'd been meeting with at the time before beginning a systematic killing of everyone in the building. Some of the people managed to make it out into the parking lot but the assassin had planted explosives at strategic points and detonated them."
"She? You know who the assassin is?" she asked, a bit surprised to have a face to go with the killing.
"Based on evidence found at the scene she infiltrated as a transfer from another facility and created a situation that would allow her access to Chapman's office," Holland replied before nodding to O'Neill to change a picture taken from a security camera. "We've already confirmed that the records and information are false and were inserted by an outside party. Nevertheless we've put out an alert to all British intelligence agencies to report in immediately if she is found. Granted, we are aware that she may undergo plastic surgery to change her face but it's better than nothing."
The image wasn't the clearest but it did give information to judge the height, weight, build and some of the basic facial features of the assassin. The face wasn't easy to make out and to her it looked like the hairstyle and the glasses had been specifically chosen to obscure as much of the face as possible without attracting attention or arousing suspicion. Assuming that the assassinations had indeed been a group effort, they'd obviously gone to significant lengths to conceal their true identities.
"The fact that caused us to contact Homeworld Security though was the fact that the weapons available to employees of the Centre had no effect on her whatsoever." Holland said before turning his head to Jack. "If you'd replay the video footage, General O'Neill?"
The head of Homeworld Security nodded and security footage began to play on the screen with the time stamp showing six hours ago, UK time. It showed the assassin methodically and almost mechanically killing everyone she could even to the point of firing shots into rooms. However what was also shown was the fact that several bullets from Centre employees successfully hit the young woman but appeared to have no effect beyond causing her to stumble when the shotguns and assault rifles were used. At first she'd thought that the assassin had been wounded but when no telltale signs of injury or impaired movement showed after a couple of minutes, that theory was disproven.
"Most of my contemporaries believe the woman was simply wearing experimental body armor and had a painkiller cocktail in her system but, given what Homeworld Security and the SGC deal with, I thought otherwise." Holland said, apparently concluding his summary. "I don't think I need to tell you my superiors are up in arms at one of our most important facilities being decimated like this. We're all hoping you can help us apprehend the perpetrator or at least prevent a repeat."
"I assure you, Ambassador, Homeworld Security will do everything it can to bring this assassin to justice and help you upgrade your security." Jack said with resolve and conviction.
"Thank you, General." Holland said with a nod of thanks.
"While I do not have as much intelligence as Ambassador Holland, I do hope you will be willing to do the same for us. Monsieur LaPierre was well liked among his co-workers and others in the government," Ambassador Deveroux stated with a moderate accent. "His family is taking the deaths of him, his wife and his daughter particularly poorly. I understand that those closest to him had to be sedated."
"Homeworld Security and the SGC are taking this matter very seriously," General O'Neill said, turning to the French Ambassador. "We will help everyone to keep these attacks from happening again and ensure the apprehension of those responsible. What can you tell us about the assassination?"
"Only that the assassin waited until LaPierre and his family were in their car before detonating an excessive amount of semtex placed on the underside of the vehicle." Ambassador Deveroux replied as the image on the screen changed to the burnt out husk of a car. "All three were killed instantly and there was… little left… by the time the fires were put out."
"What exactly do you mean by excessive?" Jacob asked with some grimness.
"According to our explosives expert the assassin used three times the amount of semtex necessary to kill LaPierre and his family. The fact that one of the blocks was placed next to the car's fuel tank only made it more unnecessary." Ambassador Deveroux replied, making many who were knowledgeable of explosives to raise their eyebrows in surprise.
"Obviously someone who doesn't understand the concept of overkill," muttered one of the other generals present.
"Another possibility is that these assassins believe in being thorough," Chinese representative Li Chung said, putting in his point of view. "That was certainly the case in the assassination of representative Shen Xiaoyi."
"Washington D.C police arrived at the scene in response to a nine one one call from a nearby apartment holder. They arrived ten minutes after the call and there were signs that representative Xiaoyi had been killed less than two minutes prior," General O'Neill explained since the assassination had occurred in America. "A search of the surrounding area was conducted in an effort to locate the assassin but no one has been found as of yet. The search is still ongoing but, as I'm sure you all realize, the longer it goes on the less likely the perpetrator is still in the area. Nevertheless we'll continue the search until this had been confirmed or other information is surfaces."
"Were you able to determine what weapon was used in the assassination?" Chinese representative Li Chung asked with a voice most firm.
"Not as yet. That's one of the reasons I asked Colonel Carter to come here." General O'Neill replied, turning in the right direction.
"I'll do what I can, sir," she said as she was given a folder thick with papers and photographs.
As she opened the folder she could see out of the corner of her eye her father leaning over a bit to get a look as well. While not a scientist, if these assassins were from off world or if they'd gotten their weapons from off world, it was possible that he might be able to help using the residual memories of Selmak.
The first photograph was a close up of a car but, from what she could see, it had been sliced into portions varying from a few inches in width to over a foot. While it was somewhat hard to tell, it looked as though the edges of each sliced portion were just beginning to lose a hot orange glow, implying a superheated implement. She considered for a moment that some sort of energy weapon had been used but after looking through three more photographs involving the cars, she did not believe this to be the case. There was little if any damage done to the street beneath each car and, given the clean separation of each piece of the car, such a precise weapon would've left telltale signs on the concrete.
"Any ideas, Colonel?" General O'Neill asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
"Well from what I can tell, whatever did this did it with great precision but I don't think it was an energy weapon like the ones we know of," she replied, ordering her thoughts. "It's too precise. If I had to guess, I'd say it was some sort of blade, either composed of energy or superheated in nature that cut through the cars."
Looking through more of the photographs, she came upon some of bodies rather than vehicles, making her a little squeamish. From what she could see, the… stump… of the man's neck had been burned significantly but not cauterized like she'd expected based on what happened to the cars. There were burns present but they were inconsistent, pushing her away from an energy blade or even a superheated blade since either would've produced more consistent burns based on her knowledge. It took almost a full minute of consideration but it was enough to refine her hypothesis a bit.
"No, scratch that," she said as she continued to look through the photographs of the bodies who she presumed were bodyguards. "The burns aren't consistent enough on the bodies for either an energy blade or a superheated one. It's just a theory but the only thing I can think of that might've done this is a high frequency blade."
"What's that?" Representative Li Chung asked with mild curiosity.
"They're typically swords reinforced by a powerful alternating current and resonates at extremely high frequencies. This oscillation is capable of weakening the molecular bonds of anything it cuts, increasing the cutting ability substantially," she replied, recalling what little she remembered on the subject. "It's been done in the lab but the power requirements are too great for a practical version to be made for combat. You'd need to connect it to a generator by cable to make it work."
"Not exactly something that'd be effective in a fight since all the enemy would need to do is cut off your power," her father said, looking away from the photographs. "No off world race that Selmak knew of used blades like that. They either used normal blades or firearms of some kind."
"So either someone on Earth managed a breakthrough or someone off world has developed a taste for sharp objects with a little extra oomph." Jack said, showing a bit of his former self.
"They're fast, too," she said as something occurred to her. "How good were the bodyguards assigned to representative Xiaoyi?"
"They were all competent men if that is what you mean." Representative Li Chung replied strongly to the question. "They once served in our military and have years of experience protecting our dignitaries and representatives."
"Then they would've seen the assassin coming," she said as she tried her best to put the pieces together. "The pictures make it look like the perp went from the front car to the back car in one go. If none of them were able to back up and get away then she must've overtaken them before they could do that. If they saw their attacker coming but couldn't get the cars moving in time, that'd imply that the killer could move at superhuman speeds. The most they must've been able to do was get out of their cars before the assassin got to them."
"That matches the initial police reports. While six bodyguards and representative Xiaoyi made it out of the cars, the drivers and one other bodyguard didn't." O'Neill said to the assembled group. "They were sliced up along with the vehicles."
Looking further through the photographs, she eventually came upon the one showing the dead body of representative Xiaoyi herself. Unlike the others, she hadn't been killed with a high frequency blade but rather several gunshots. One to each leg, four to each arm and one to each eye, with the last two she suspected being the ones that finally ended the woman's suffering. What had caused the change in weaponry? Choice or whim?
A sudden brief gasp from her father however dragged her out of her thoughts and, when she turned to ask him what was wrong, she saw a look on his face she'd only seen a few times. Each time he'd just come back from a mission overseas that had either gone particularly badly or where he'd seen something particularly disturbing.
"You see something you recognize, Dad?" she asked wondering what memory of Selmak's had risen to the surface of his mind.
"Nothing definite," he replied a moment later. "I'll need to think about it a bit."
He was lying.
Her father was many things but when it came to lying, she could tell with a glance and if she was right, then he knew more than what he was willing to share. She didn't know why but she knew he had to have his reasons. She'd wait until after the debriefing was completed and they could have some privacy before she confronted him about his lie. Hopefully the only reason he was keeping the information to himself was because he didn't want anyone aside from her or Jack to know about it.
She'd hate to think it was something that he couldn't trust her with.
General O'Neill's Office, Ninety-Minutes Later, General Jacob Carter's POV
Has it really happened? Had his worst fear from twenty years ago really come to pass?
Those were the two questions he'd asked himself ever since he'd seen the photograph of the dead Chinese representative but at the moment he found himself unable to give a definite answer. A part of him thought that it could just be a coincidence, that the assassin could be someone other than the person in his mind, but the placement of those shots… it just matched his memory a little too well. Sipping from the cup of coffee in his hand, he barely repressed a shudder as the memories of what he'd seen began to seep through the cracks in the wall he'd hidden them behind. As he raised his eyes to look at the two other people in the room, he could tell that his repression hadn't been entirely effective and that only added only made his reflex action back in the briefing room even more suspicious no doubt.
"Is something wrong, Dad?" Sam asked with concern in her voice. "You looked a little upset back in the briefing room when you saw representative Xiaoyi's picture."
"I was just reminded of something I'd seen twenty years ago," he replied before dumping the empty cup into the nearest trash bin. "It made me think of someone in particular but I hope to God I'm wrong."
"You have an idea who the assassin might be?" General O'Neill asked, sounding somewhat surprised and interested.
"An idea might be a bit of an overstatement," he replied as his emotions warred within him. "It's more like a gut instinct, a hunch, more than anything else."
Silence reigned for a few minutes and he realized that they were hoping he'd elaborate on his statement a bit more. Looking at his daughter, he warred with himself over whether he should say anything or if he should be 'selective' with the truth. In the end he decided that the old saying that a half truth was worse than any lie so he decided to go for full disclosure.
First, though, he had to make sure of something.
I knew I'd have to use it sometime but I'd hoped it wouldn't be for a while, he thought as he took out a little 'severance package' he had taken upon severing ties with the Tok'ra.
It was a device that deep cover agents used whenever they needed to meet with a comrade and a secure location wasn't possible. It interfered with both audio and visual monitoring devices, inducing static in the latter, while causing white noise to render the former useless. They were only ever used for brief meetings since using it for too long would only expose the covert operative's presence when the interference could no longer be explained away as technical difficulties. With the press of a button any security cameras or microphones in the room would be rendered useless. While they might not be in Goa'uld territory at the moment he'd still have to make this story as short as he could since blacking out a room in the Pentagon would probably stir up some trouble.
"This'll let us talk without anyone eavesdropping," he explained as he put the device on Jack's desk. "What I'm about to say isn't to leave this room because it could get me and a few other people in deep trouble since certain laws were ignored. Understand?"
"We won't tell anyone, Jacob," Jack said, understanding the seriousness of the situation.
After getting a nod from Sam he decided it was time to tell his story.
"This little story begins in nineteen eighty-eight. You might remember it was your third year at the Air Force Academy I called to reschedule our get together Sam. I told you it was because something had come up that I couldn't talk about." he said, laying down the groundwork.
"Yeah, I remember because I was kind of happy since it'd give me time to work on my extra credit project." Sam said nodding as she recalled the time in question.
"Well the truth is I was called over to Italy to help with a series of abductions that'd been occurring in Rome at the time. You might've heard about it over here since one of the people abducted was Utah senator's daughter who'd been vacationing there with him at the time."
"Yeah, it was big news," Jack said, nodding in recollection. "Over twenty people, with more than half of them being pre-teen girls were taken over the course of two weeks. The entire country was throwing a fit and the senator was calling in every favor he could to find his daughter."
"Turns out I was one of those favors," he explained, remembering the call he'd received. "We knew each other back in our college days and we've gotten together whenever both our schedules were free. He called me after he lost his patience with the local law enforcement and wanted me to come over to head up the American side of the joint investigation."
"They let you do that? I would've thought they'd give it to someone from the FBI or CIA." Jack said, sounding a bit surprised.
"They would've but the good senator wasn't particularly fond of alphabet agencies, American or otherwise, but had a much better opinion of soldiers and the military." He remembered the jurisdiction issues caused when he'd arrived. "It took some doing but he managed put me in the driver's seat of the American side of the investigation. However when I got there, I met with an entirely new and definitely personal reason for wanting to help with the investigation. Do you remember your Aunt Joyce, Sam?"
"Of course! I used to babysit Lizzie for her and Uncle Hank when we all lived in Pittsburgh." Sam said, smiling at the memories of her little cousin before turning to Jack. "In fact they moved L.A in nineteen eighty-nine if I remember right."
"Yeah… well, turns out that they'd all been on a European tour together and when the senator's daughter was abducted. Elizabeth was taken too." he said, watching as the look of shock blossom on his daughter's face. "They were in an art museum together and Lizzie wandered off when Joyce wasn't looking. She swore she'd only looked away for a couple of minutes while the guide explained a painting but that was enough. They started looking for her almost immediately and when word got out that the senator's daughter had also gone missing, every security guard in the museum got involved. In the end the only thing they had to show for their efforts was a lone witness seeing two people tossing two children into the back of a van."
"What happened?! Why didn't you call me?!" Sam asked quickly, sounding angry that this story had been kept from her for so long.
"You were an Academy cadet. What could you have done that dozens of investigators and hundreds of police officers couldn't?" he asked as calmly as possible. "There was nothing you could've done and telling you about it would've only distracted you from your project."
It looked difficult but his daughter managed to accept the objective truth, such as it was, but he knew the next bit would be the really hard part.
"The information the investigators had managed to dig up before I got there pointed to an international slaver ring called 'The Black Abyss' that operated in every major country worldwide. They apparently had something of a reputation for accepting custom requests from repeat clients and doing whatever it took to make sure those clients were satisfied." His disgust was clear in his voice.
"What do you mean 'custom requests'?" Sam asked, clearly not completely understanding its meaning or context.
"Most times when slavers do business, they buy and sell based on ethnicity, age or gender. Basically they deal in hardware with only the bare minimum conditioning to the software. It is a common enough practice to let the 'clients' handle the conditioning of the 'merchandise' for the most part." He was feeling filthy just explaining the details. "In the case of 'The Black Abyss', though, they cater to the buyers that prefer to have all the work done for them. They want the slave conditioned both mentally and physically precisely to suit their needs so that they're ready to 'serve' the moment they're purchased. Everything from torture to surgery to brainwashing is used to sculpt the people they abduct into whatever their clients want."
"What'd be the point in surgery?" Jack asked, obviously thinking that it'd be easier to find a person who naturally looked a certain way rather than alter someone else.
"Let's… let's just say that… some clients don't want to wait for little girls to reach physical maturity." He was having to hold back the bile rising in his throat as he spoke the words.
He didn't even need to look at Sam and Jack to know that their faces were twisted in disgust and revulsion. Even though it had happened a little over twenty years ago, it still made him feel sick to his stomach. It still proved to him beyond a reasonable doubt that as bad as the Goa'uld System Lords were, baseline humans were still capable of making them look almost decent by comparison.
"Every hour of every day was spent following up on every lead to find the branch of 'The Black Abyss' that had Lizzie and the senator's daughter. All transportation out of the city, as well as out of the country, was locked down, with the Italian military adding manpower where law enforcement fell short," he said, continuing the story in all its horrid detail. "I didn't get much sleep myself, though that was more because of the nightmares than anything else. As the days went by with little if anything to show for it everyone began to fear the worst.
"Then we hit a lucky break. A plastic surgeon that had shown up on more than one occasion during investigations involving the 'The Black Abyss' had been spotted in Rome. From there all they'd had to do was check all the places that would serve the man's vices or provide him with what he needed to do his work." He remembered the hectic days after the 'doctor' had been seen vividly. "Once we found him, though, we didn't grab him. We figured he was in town to do some… work, so we planted our best tracking device on his vehicle in the most obscure part of his car and followed him via satellite. When it finally came to a stop for longer than ten minutes we set up a large circle around it ten blocks out then closed in on all sides.
"It took time, roughly twenty minutes, but eventually we arrived at a warehouse belonging to an export company. As soon as an airtight perimeter was set up we prepared to ask for an unconditional surrender but before anyone could get a word out someone inside the warehouse screamed. Assuming the worst, we stormed the building but what we found …no one could've predicted it."
"They killed all their captives?" Sam asked, almost unable to ask the question.
"No… the further into the warehouse we went the more bodies of adults we found. An agent from Interpol managed to identify some of them as definitely being members of 'The Black Abyss' slave ring. They'd been… butchered... there's no other way to say it. Heads bludgeoned in, limbs that were either sliced or torn off, bones broken and some with a variety of bullet holes in them. For a moment we'd thought that a rival operation or the local organized crime organizations had decided to handle things themselves. It wasn't until we got to a storage room near the loading docks that we found out what'd really happened."
He honestly didn't mean to pause for dramatic effect but he needed to steel himself for how Jack and Sam would react to the next part of the story.
"When we entered the room we found only one person alive and three others dead on the ground. One had died by a knife through the throat while the other two had been shot to death. One of the ones that'd been shot was a woman and she'd been shot in precisely the same places as the Chinese IOA rep had been," he said, seeing the image of what'd been in that room in his mind's eye. "One shot to each leg, two to each arm and two through the eyes. Before you say it, the shots weren't close, they weren't just about; they were in exactly the same place. It was like the person who killed the slaver back then deliberately chose to recreate what they'd done with the Chinese representative shot for shot."
"You think whoever killed the slavers back then is behind the assassination of representative Xiaoyi?" Sam asked, sounding a bit more understanding with regards to the point of the story. "Who was it?"
"It was Lizzie, Sam. She killed those people." He waited for what he knew was coming.
"WHAT!?" both Sam and Jack shouted at the same time.
He had scarcely believed it himself and he'd seen it with his own eyes.
"That's impossible! A seven year old girl couldn't have killed so many adults by herself!" Sam declared, outright refusing to believe at all.
"I didn't believe it either, Sam, not at first, but you didn't see what I saw. Lizzie was standing in the middle of the room, gun in her hand, smiling with blood covering her from head to toe." He showed her with his face how dead serious he was. "The smile… it wasn't the smile we'd seen on her face when she was playing or when she'd heard a joke. It reminded me of the smile usually reserved for psychotic killers who took great pleasure in their work. As soon as she looked at me, she must've recognized me or at least that's what the doctors thought, because a second later she collapsed to the floor. She wasn't hurt, just unconscious, and so she was evac'd out to the ambulances outside. We continued searching the building and managed to find the other abductees. We were fortunate that they hadn't had them long enough to do anything… irreparable.
"It wasn't until later, when we'd recovered their security tapes, that we'd gotten the entire story," he said as he recalled sitting in warehouse's security room. "About half an hour before we pulled up outside three of the slavers that were in charge of 'moulding' their prospective slaves had gotten to work with the first batch of five. I… I won't traumatize you with the details but their methods were thorough, efficient and completely lacking in any kind of morality. The things they did to those kids… getting Sokar pissed at them and throwing them to him wouldn't be going far enough to see vengeance done.
"Lizzie watched it all happen. They had her chained to the damn wall and she watched it happen." His anger from the past started coming into the present. "Then, like someone switched her emotions off, she stopped shaking or crying entirely. None of the 'experts' could agree on what happened next beyond what we could see on the security footage, but we were all shocked. Somehow she snapped her chains and then began to brutally take apart the slavers like I've only seen a handful of particularly sadistic spec ops agents do. More surprising than that was the fact that she moved faster and hit harder than any seven year old girl should've been able to do, even with months of training. Most of the people who saw the footage excused it off as imitation mixed with the mother of all adrenaline rushes and simple luck, but I didn't.
"Lizzie woke up a couple of hours later but she didn't remember anything about what'd happened. Not her abduction, not what she went through while she was being held captive and definitely not tearing the slavers apart single-handedly. The doctors figured the entire traumatic event must've caused her mind to suppress all memory of it. In the end neither her parents nor I really cared. However I decided to go one step further out of pity for what Lizzie had gone through: I talked with my friend the senator and between the two of us we made sure that what your cousin did in the warehouse got buried. All evidence was 'lost' and every man or woman who'd either seen the video footage or been there when we first found her was 'persuaded' to forget what they saw.
"It should've been enough but both Joyce and Hank were worried that if someone back at home kept bringing up the abduction that it might cause Lizzie to remember. So they packed up and left for Los Angeles as soon as they could, telling only people they thought they could trust where they'd be or what their phone number would be." He looked back into the faces of his daughter and General O'Neill. "Then, a little over ten years ago, something happened that made Joyce and Hank think that she'd suffered a relapse. She started saying that she was a Slayer and that she'd burnt down her high school gym because there'd been vampires inside. Hank immediately had her committed to an asylum out of fear but that turned out to be the wrong move for him. Joyce was outraged that her husband would treat their daughter like she was some kind of psychopath and, while it took a while, she divorced Hank and gained custody of Lizzie. Turned out she was on the right track because a few months later the young woman retracted all her previous statements, claiming that she was just out for attention. Both the psychiatrists and her mother believed her so she was released. The rest you know, Sam."
"So you think that Lizzie might've had a relapse and killed Xiaoyi?" Sam asked, sounding like she was still processing what she'd been told.
"I don't know. Like I said, I only have my own gut instincts and the placement of those shots to go on, but I plan on finding out as soon as I can." He reached over to the anti-eavesdropping device and turned it off. "After Sunnydale turned into a sinkhole Lizzie got in touch with both of us and gave us her contact information. I plan to call once I can find a phone that can't be monitored. If that's not possible, I'll head overseas to her home in Scotland to speak with her directly. If nothing else it'll put my mind at ease."
"You really think all the phones are tapped? Isn't that a little paranoid?" Jack asked, sounding like it was a bit of a stretch that his phone would be bugged.
"Jack, this is the Pentagon. After what happened on nine eleven and the 'war on terror', I would be surprised if all three of us weren't under some kind of surveillance," he replied, reminding his fellow general that these were suspicious times they were living in. "Now that we've just had the second most secretive facility wiped off the planet and five VIPs assassinated in a variety of ways… I expect a lot of ethically questionable precautions are going to get rubber stamped 'approved'."
He could tell that Jack and Sam wanted to deny this but at the same time their years in the military made that hard since they knew how most of the people in charge would react to the current situation.
Someone was attacking them and the longer things went without a definite face to put to the acts, the more fearful and desperate things would become.
Things were going to get messy.
Athena's POV, Two Days Later
Farrow-Marshall Aeronautics R&D Facility, Supposedly Abandoned
Northern Tip of the Rocky Mountains, British Columbia, Canada
"So what's the news from the 'enemy camp', Mister Smith?" she asked her bodyguard, who'd she had sent for a little information gathering two days ago.
"It is as you anticipated, Mistress Athena," Smith replied without a single change in his facial expression. "All five of the member nations of the IOA whose representative was killed are exerting considerable pressure on the American's Homeworld Security and the SGC to find the perpetrators. At the same time they are doubling the usual security detail on all high profile VIPs and increasing scrutiny of all new arrivals to their countries."
"Excellent. This will strain relations as they each begin to suspect their 'allies' of being the ones responsible while at the same time hampering their own ability to move." She gave a maliciously happy smile. "When the final act begins they'll be so tangled up in their 'security measures' that they will not be able to respond quickly enough, resulting in massive losses on all sides. I do so love it when a plan starts coming together."
A bit of a clichéd statement and one from a famous American show, but it just so perfectly summed up her mood at the moment she just couldn't help herself.
From the moment it had been confirmed that Ethan Rayne had succeeded in transforming five of his former foes into the fictional beings they'd been dressed up as she'd begun planning. Planning to make all of the wonderful technologies and weapons of the fictional worlds into reality. Planning to lay the foundation of an army that would see her rise to supreme power. Planning for the day when the Goa'uld System Lords would once again rise to supreme dominance in the galaxy, never to fall again to the likes of the SGC or the treacherous Jaffa.
Indeed, when she was not dealing with the unavoidable work of running a corporate empire, things she just couldn't or wouldn't delegate to others, she was planning how best to make her dreams come true. Unlike her fallen kin among the Goa'uld, she would not substitute painstaking planning for unbridled arrogance and would ensure that everything was taken into account. It had been a somewhat humbling experience but, when she'd taken all the actions of her kin as well as herself into account since the Tauri began using their stargate again, she was forced to admit some uncomfortable truths. The dominant truth being that their defeat had been as much due to their own overconfidence as it was the formidable forces of the Tauri and their allies. They had ruled the galaxy for so long without any true opposition that they'd ceased to consider it possible that they could be thrown down, much less by those they considered their slaves. Their confidence had only gotten worse when the Asgard's weakness had been exposed by Anubis, along with the partially ascended being's acquisition of Ancient technology.
Was it any wonder that weaknesses in their defenses were found and exploited?
Thus when she'd begun her planning she'd made sure that every detail was accounted for and every threat analyzed so that it could be dealt with quickly as well as efficiently.
Phase one of her plan had simply been to gather the necessary resources and manpower in order to replicate the technological advances she'd acquired the plans to as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention. That had been easy enough thanks to her new 'agents' aiding her in either eliminating or blackmailing the C. of the companies that would be best able to help her achieve her objectives. Once they had been brought under her control, she had been splitting her efforts between filtering select pieces of technology into the civilian sector and producing what she needed for her long term goals.
Phase two of her plan had been to acquire certain unique sources of technology from Area Fifty One, test out some of the more useful pieces of newly acquired technology and lastly to strike the first blow against her hated foes. By destroying their primary research facility for non-terrestrial technology, she had cost them much information and resources as well as depriving them of a location from which they could analyze whatever bits and pieces of her new tech they acquired through battle. While they could theoretically rebuild and get a new selection of scientists to do the work, it'd take time and it'd provide her with an opportunity to send a spy or two in to their midst. It also had the benefit of directing their attentions elsewhere allowing her to speed up her timetable a bit so all in all it was quite beneficial.
The assassinations were phase three of her plan, with the goal of increasing global pressure on Earth's sole defense against off world threats. Homeworld Security and the SGC were the two dominant means that the Tauri had to counter her plans, both before the final phase as well as afterwards. By inducing the other nations of the world to come down on them, to scrutinize their efforts in order to ensure that everything was done to bring the perpetrators to 'justice', their reaction times would be slowed as well as hindered in other ways. Their countermeasures would also help facilitate her plans centered on phase six of her plan, since their forces would be spread out significantly making them all the more vulnerable.
However before that could happen, she needed to turn up on global tension just one more notch in order to make certain that the powder keg was truly prepped to blow.
For now, though, she had other matters that required her attention that were just as important to the future three phases of her plans as what'd been done so far.
"What of our new 'clients'?" she asked with a cautious optimism. "Were they pleased with the 'samples'?"
"Quite pleased. It took some persuasion to get them to abide by your timetable but they eventually saw the light," Smith replied in his usual professional manner. "It may be necessary to send a representative weekly to keep any… malcontents… under control."
"Then see to it that appropriate representatives are assigned to each client," she ordered, taking his answer into account when making her decision. "Make sure that they can make suitably compelling 'arguments' should our buyers forget who is in the superior position."
"Of course, Mistress." Smith said with a nod of his head.
She was about to say more when a knock at the door interrupted her. "Come."
She was pleased to see Wesker enter and she hoped he brought with him good news.
"It is good to see you again, Wesker," she said with a polite smile. "Were you successful in your mission?"
"Unfortunately no, Mistress. At your request I conducted an exhaustive search for the man Ethan Rayne." Wesker said with a grain of apology in his voice. "Using all the means at my disposal I attempted to find him and heeded your permission to use extreme methods if I deemed them necessary. However none of the leads I procured, nor sources I applied pressure to, were able to provide me with the information needed to apprehend him. All but one of his possible hiding places were unoccupied and had not been used in some time. The only one that was occupied had an old man of seventy years living inside. Using the DNA sample and the device you provided I attempted to ascertain if the old man was Rayne in disguise but the device conclusively said he was not. I attempted interrogation however all evidence indicated that the old man was mentally unbalanced and quite possibly senile, making it unlikely that I would be able to get any useful information out of him. I therefore left since there was nothing to be gained from remaining or killing him."
"Unfortunate. I believe this is the first time you have failed me, Wesker," she said, letting her displeasure filter into her words. "Fortunately for you it is not a failure that I am inclined to punish you for. My reason for reacquiring Mister Rayne's services was to add even more technological might to what I already possess. While being deprived of this additional firepower is disappointing, it is, at the end of the day, of little consequence. All it means is that no one will be able to duplicate what I've done or send back all that I've gained."
Indeed, without Ethan Rayne there would be no other chaos mage capable of undoing what he'd done or allowing others to bring superior weaponry to this reality to use against her.
"I believe it is time to set things in motion for phase five." She got up from her chair and moved towards the doorway. "Follow me."
Leaving her office, she followed a path that took her fifteen minutes and two floors to see the end of.
Doctor Emil Beckett.
Cyber-warfare division.
Entering the room without so much as a knock on the door, she found a great many recognizable objects, all from the databases found in the gurneys, but the man at the center of the room was her objective.
"Doctor Beckett. I trust you're enjoying your efforts at recreating the database's contents?" she asked the grey haired man.
"Quite, Mistress. The things I've learned since we found the database are astonishing!" Beckett replied with a polite smile on his face. "I can safely say that I am most likely the unquestioned expert of computer and network technology of the planet Earth!"
"Then my next task for you will most likely be child's play for you." she said with a grin that boded much to those with the eyes to see.
Fortunately there was no need for Emil Beckett to be good at mind reading.
Scooby Holding Room, Buffy's POV
Dreams.
They used to be great things for the most part, despite the odd nightmare but that had been before her Awakening.
When she'd been Called to be the Slayer, her dreams had taken a distinct slant towards being more nightmarish than a place where her desired future could be experienced freely. Prophetic visions were only one of the causes since they showed her horrors she would soon have to overcome in order to save lives. The other contributing factor to her nightmares were the memories she had of the many battles she'd fought and the failures that were hers to take responsibility for. She'd only been a teenager when she'd been Called as the Slayer and, thanks to Fate as well as the Watcher's Council, she'd been forced to face horrors no one that age should have to face. Horrors such as that left their imprint on the mind and while some could be worn away with good times, others endured no matter how much time went by.
It had been difficult at first.
For the first few years the pressure of her Calling it pressed down on her shoulders like an ever-present weight and the more scars it left on her, the harder she fought to find reasons to keep on living. She partied, spent time with her friends and cherished whatever love she could find whether it be from family, friends or boyfriends. All of them eased her suffering as the one girl in all of the world to one degree or another, but it never left her entirely for it waited just within the range of her senses like a circling predator.
As she got older she became… what was the word people used? Desensitized? Yeah, that was it. She became desensitized to the violence and the death being the Slayer exposed her to every night. It took something truly horrible to upset her these days but the acts she was forced to commit in order to keep both pain as well as death from her friends introduced her to new heights of trauma.
Whenever she slept now, the faces of those she'd slain and the way in which she had killed them ran repeatedly in her head like some kind of highlight reel. However it soon evolved into her victims exacting retribution upon her using the same weapon she'd used to harm them. Usually it ended with Xander and the others being killed bit by bit while Dawn stood at attention by Mayfield's side, emotionlessly watching.
However over the last two days flashes of something… different began to pop up randomly amidst the usual terrible things her nightmares chose to dump on her. Jingling chains, children suffering, battered bodies and other things that made no sense to her. Somehow, though, these new additions heightened the emotional turmoil that she went through during her nightmares, causing her to wake up like someone had shoved a cattle prod up her ass. If she'd been capable of it anymore she'd almost certainly have woken up in a sweat but since she couldn't, all she'd done was sit up fast breathing hard for a good three to five minutes. The others had done what they could the few times they'd been around for one of her abrupt wake ups but, despite their attempts to comfort her, the nightmares didn't fade nor did the new additions.
She knew that technically her body, such as it was, didn't require rest as much as it used to but her mind did and, unless she found some way to simmer down her dreams, she doubted she'd get much sleep. How long before the lack of slumber wound up affecting her behavior? How long before she just snapped!?
We need these collars off and we need them off SOON!
Even if it was true that no one else could produce the necessary nutrient slurry needed to keep the biological components of the Scoobie gang in one piece, it'd be better to die free, pinning Mayfield to the wall, then live giving those bastards the PTB reason after reason to send them to a hell dimension. However none of them or their costume personalities were surgeons, nor did they have the necessary stuff to cut the pain givers out of them without risking death. No one was that desperate to get loose because all of them believed that if they waited long enough a better and safer opportunity would present itself to them.
Makes me wonder if we should just accept the fact that there WON'T be a better time and just take our chances, she thought as she looked up at Giles and Willow. I don't mind waiting for better chances but I'm not stupid enough to keep believing when it's looking more and more like there won't be.
She knew what the others would likely say if she voiced this train of thought.
They'd try to reassure her, say not to give up hope, and convince her that things hadn't gotten so bad that they needed to go all Jack the Ripper on each other.
They didn't realize that by the time things did get that bad they'd have nowhere to go because they'd either be the most wanted people on the planet or Mayfield will have come up an even worse way to keep them obedient.
Or even worse one or all of them will finally give up and throw in with the whole 'if you cannot beat'em join'em' idea.
She'd kill herself before she'd let herself think like that.
And… she might kill the others before they condemned themselves to a life of bloody servitude.
For their own good, of course.
They'd thank her when they reached the hereafter, even if they went straight to hell.
Giles' POV
"Any luck?" he asked after making sure that his external speakers were turned off.
"No. I can tell where the implant is but I can't access it," Cortana replied through the helmet's internal speakers. "Whoever designed it made it so that it only activated when a specific signal is sent to it and blocked any other form of interaction. Without knowing what type of signal it is or what type of wavelength it's on, there's no way to know how to block it."
"What about blanket blocking all incoming signals?" he asked, going for the logical alternative. "If we don't know which one to block, we block all of them."
"I wouldn't be able to keep it up indefinitely and it would require significant power from the armor to broadcast a jamming signal powerful enough to block everything," she replied, sounding dismissive of the idea. "Plus it'd make it easy for her to find us. All she'd need to do is look for a broadcast dead zone that's out of the ordinary. With the resources at her disposal, it wouldn't be hard to do it from orbit via satellite."
"And the second we ceased the jamming she could hit the kill switch on us both." he said, finishing that line of thought.
We're running out of ideas. Cortana can sense the location of the implants once I get close enough to Buffy or one of the others but it's the same deal.
Looking at each of the young people that had been his charges for so long, he tried to think of what possibilities they were considering with regards to securing their freedom.
For Willow he surmised that she would either attempt to use what little magic potential she still retained to defuse the implant or use her prosthetic body's hacking abilities to reprogram the implant. He doubted though that Mayfield'd be so foolish so as not to take the abilities of the people involved into account when she had the implants designed. From what he'd seen of the woman, she was quite thorough with her planning and made sure she had the better hand if things ever got tense. Odds were good that the implants were either so basic that there was nothing to reprogram in the first place or they were advanced enough to have hair trigger countermeasures in place. Whatever the case was, Willow didn't look to be overly optimistic or even like she might be onto something, so that meant the purple haired young woman was probably in the same boat as him.
Xander, he believed, was attempting to use the non-sentient artificial intelligence known as S.E.C.O.N.D that lived in his nanosuit to come up with a solution. They had only briefly discussed the abilities each of them possessed, but one of the abilities Xander'd described was how his suit had managed, after collecting several samples of alien DNA, to turn an enemy's bio-weapon against them. If it was capable of doing something so complex, it might be possible to repurpose the nano-machines to break down and destroy the implant. The fact that the young man hadn't said anything yet and to this very day continued to try and communicate with the A.I probably meant that either the repurposing hadn't even begun or was taking a long time to do. He was inclined to think the latter because, even though he was no scientist, he knew from his potions studies that devising an antidote took time. The more complex the poison or curse, the more time it took to find the right combination of ingredients to cure the victim without doing further harm. He knew not how long it'd be before a nano-machine cure to their predicament was created but he hoped it'd happen soon because already he could see signs of terminal wear and tear happening to the minds of the children of his heart.
Buffy's nightmares were getting worse and, while he might not know the specifics of the imagery that had her waking up with a look of fear on her face, he noticed it just the same. The amount of time that she slept was growing shorter and shorter with something happening on the last… assassination to cause her slumber to become sharply shorter still. All through her time as the Slayer Buffy had been completely opposed to the idea of taking human life and only made exceptions when taking the human enemy alive was impossible. Nevertheless, those lives weighed on her each time they were snuffed out and efforts had been made by more than one member of the Council to ensure that they never had to make such choices again.
To be forced to kill so many humans, humans who represented no threat to humankind, no doubt chipped away at her soul with every life taken.
If too much was chipped away… he didn't even want to think about it.
Willow seemed to be faring a little better but she was not escaping the effects of their actions completely. While Willow, to his knowledge, had the lowest kill count of the lot of them, he knew that some blood was on her hands and that the former redhead was responsible for espionage as well as the planting of false evidence against innocent people. It was only natural for a person to be affected by the fact that their actions resulted in the defamation, slandering and in some cases incarceration of innocent people. He had no proof but he heavily suspected that in at least a few cases, her actions had been the cause of complete financial ruin and that meant substantial loss of jobs at the very least. Given how keen of intellect Willow was, he had little doubt that she had a firm grasp of the consequences of her actions from the direct to the indirect along with everything in between. Seeing as how she trusted facts more than anything else, each one indicating the level of damage she'd done must've been like a particularly sharp stone being thrown at her by a significantly strong person.
A person could only take being stoned for so long before it changed how they saw themselves and how they saw the world around them.
In Xander's case, the weight of his actions in relation to Mayfield's orders was visible but being held at bay by the young man's unwavering loyalty to his friends, along with the hope that they'd get out of the mess they're in. It was one of the young man's most endearing traits: he was supremely loyal to those he considered friends and it'd take something of greater or equal strength in comparison to that loyalty to cause him to turn his back on those he called friend. However his greatest strength was also his greatest weakest weakness because it caused him to take actions from which there could be no going back. In his long years with the young man, he'd seen Xander willing to take on morally gray tasks for no other reason than to keep the hands of his friends as clean as possible. However in some cases in order to accomplish the mission, he'd been forced to commit acts that neither Willow nor Buffy would ever be willing to allow if they'd been present. Willfully compromising your morality put a person on a very slippery slope, with every decision putting a person further and further from whom they'd been, causing them to become someone different.
Depending on HOW different Xander would become at the end of this horrible situation, his friends might view him as a stranger they no longer 'knew'.
As for Dawn… it was impossible to tell if the youngest Summers was even still inside her body, never mind aware of what was going on around her. He prayed that she was in the dark because, if that was not the case, then the poor young woman must be going through hell not being in control of her 'body' while it did terrible things. Considering the fact that Buffy's younger sister was primarily in the research division of the Council and had little recent experience with frontline situations, the things that Mayfield must've had her do… dear lord.
The woman will suffer a thousand deaths if I have anything to say about it! he thought angrily for a few moments before calming his mind. However regaining our freedom must take priority before that can happen.
"I'm open to ideas." he said, taking the chance that the AI might have a workable solution.
"The only one I can think of is to completely disable her transmission capabilities somehow. A facility wide EMP would short out everything, including the trigger mechanism she uses to activate the leashes on each of us," Cortana said, putting forth a possibility. "So long as she doesn't have it shielded against EMPs or a secondary trigger close by but outside the effective range of the EMP, it should work. Additionally scans show that all of you have protection against EMPs to varying degrees, ensuring that while not completely free to move, you should still have a shot. Then all we'd need to do would be to kill Mayfield before Dawn can intervene. Given the number of long range options we have at our disposal as well as numbers, it's unlikely that Dawn would be able to stop all of us."
"That would depend on what weapons were on hand at the time," he said after a moment of contemplation. "I can think of at least six weapons in the armory that would allow her to disable or kill all of us before we could finish off Mayfield."
"Close quarters then. After the EMP goes off, you and Buffy as the two strongest and swiftest of the group will block or restrain Dawn while Xander and Willow attack Mayfield." Cortana said countering the flaw he'd pointed out. "Between the two of you, I doubt even a terminator would be able to make it to the woman in time."
"Buffy would be hesitant to harm her sister, even if she was… possessed by her directives," he said, feeling the point needed to be laid out. "There's also the possibility of Dawn being damaged by the EMP."
"She doesn't need to hurt Dawn. Just keep her from going to the aid of Mayfield." Cortana said, sounding certain her plan would work. "As for the EMP damaging Dawn… I didn't say this was a perfect solution."
"I'll consider it," he said as he filed away the possibility for later consideration. "You start working on how we could fire off your EMP without tipping them off before we're ready… or doing unnecessary harm to Dawn."
It wasn't a perfect plan.
However it was the only workable one aside from Xander's that they had and to be honest it was far more realistic then waiting for a non-sentient AI to come up with a nano-weapon capable of freeing them.
Only time would tell which plan would deliver the six of them to freedom.
Athens, Greece
Early Morning, A Moderately Expensive Apartment
"Ah!" she gasped, sitting upright in her bed after being shocked out of her dreams.
She was no stranger to dreams or even dreams such as the one she just had, but she had not experienced such a strong one in many, many years. The times of strength ebbed and flowed throughout the years of her life, so she was not unprepared for particularly strong dreams this year but the one she had experienced minutes ago was different.
Usually the dreams she had at times of strength were of great changes about to happen in the world from technological changes to medicinal changes. It proved useful to her when it came to making the right investments or getting out of a specific area in order to avoid dying because of a terrorist attack. At worst it let her know when a government was about to rattle its war saber extra hard so she could move someplace else.
This time was different.
The vision started out as a normal day in the city, just like the hundreds she'd had before, but then a dark shadow fell over her from high above. She looked up in the dream and saw dozens of flying metal constructs coasting through the sky on the light winds of the day but, while for a moment she felt awe like the people around her, it soon changed to fear. It was then that bits of light began to rain down on the city obliterating whatever they hit, killing scores of people in the process. With her fear shared by others, her dream self ran in an effort to get away from the airborne threat as quickly as their feet or vehicles could carry them.
However before any of them got more than five blocks away, the sound of hundreds of marching feet began to thump through the air, causing some runners to stop to listen. None needed to wait long to learn the source of the found because a moment later a row of armored men and women came around the corner. Armed with weapons both familiar and not, they at first merely had their tools of death resting on their shoulders but moments after they saw the civilians that changed. Like well-oiled machines they brought their weapons to bear on the innocents then opened fire, killing dozens in their first volley. There was no attempt at giving surrender an option, no hesitation at slaying the defenseless, just a systematic killing of every civilian within eyesight.
They can't be bargained with. They can't be reasoned with.
She'd recognized the voice instantly as belonging to her father and, while she'd felt a bit of comfort in her dreams, she also felt dread.
More often than not when he spoke in her dreams, it did not bode well for the world.
Her dream then flashed to a new location where she could see soldiers that were familiar to her were fighting a pitched battle against a large army in order to protect a city's perimeter. The attacking army was moving forward at a leisurely pace, as though they had nothing to fear from the defending force's weapons. Instead they displayed the same efficiency as the others but this time they employed energy weapons that tore through the defenders' cover like tissue paper. The protective armor of said defenders fared little better than their cover, leaving gaping holes where flesh and bone once existed, causing many warriors to flee rather than fight.
Some remained though to fight to the bitter end.
They don't feel pity, or remorse, or fear.
Another flash and the location of her dream self changed once more to a battlefield away from the city to a valley peppered with the usual vegetation. This time things were different as tanks, APCs and legions of infantry advanced forward across the green expanse towards an enemy different than the ones she'd seen before. There were two types that she could see: one half were large and clad in futuristic looking armor that made them seem more like robots while the other half wore a form fitting bodysuit with plates of reflective armor in vital areas. The former were armed with weapons that seemed too large for any man or woman to carry but the robot-like giants wielded them against the infantry with great ease. The latter carried only blades with them, blades that arced with electricity from one end to the other, but it was enough to allow them to deflect every shot their foes sent at them.
When the two sides halved the distance between them, the blade wielders ran forth with inhuman speed and were within the ranks of the infantry before any defense could be raised. Screams soon filled the air as the blades cut through flesh and metal with equal ease, bringing down three infantrymen with every swing. Even the armored vehicles were not spared as the blade masters cut them asunder as though they were made of cardboard rather than strong steel.
What infantrymen were spared the blade quickly fell victim to the bullet and the bomb and the metal clad fists of the robotic giants that appeared to be protected by a field of energy that only manifested when struck. The infantrymen and the tanks still functional sent volley after volley at them and while the shells from the tank succeeded in staggering them, the bullets did nothing. A few did fall as the battle progressed but it was happening too slowly to make a difference. For every one of them that fell to the ground, a hundred infantrymen fell dead to the ground and at such a rate the robotic giants would be the ones left standing at the end alongside their blade master allies.
And she absolutely will not stop, ever, until all fall under her rule.
Another flash and she stood in the middle of an area that was being used to construct a large stone structure, block by chiseled block. The workers, while not filthy, had clearly only been given the bare minimum care in order to ensure that they could continue working on what they were constructing but not enough to make them combat capable. It was what existed a short distance away from the construction site though that had most of her attention and caused her to narrow her eyes in anger. A dozen or two meters from the construction site there was a platform with a pale skirt covering the bottom of it. On that skirt there was the image of an owl surrounded by a circle, with both being white in color. This was a symbol she knew well from her time in Athens and had always felt a personal connection to even though she wasn't the one who originally came up with it.
Atop that platform, right in the center, was an intimidating looking throne upon which a woman with blonde hair sat, clad in clothes implying supreme importance as well as power. On either side of this woman stood the robotic giant, the blade masters, the warriors who began the slaughter at the beginning of her dream and two others cloaked in shadow that she could make out no details of at all. One was obviously female and clad in normal clothing while the other one was a tall man clad in some kind of full body suit that made the male look rather intimidating.
Before her dream self could see more, though, a hand came down on her right shoulder and spun her around to see a young woman in her early twenties clad in a black leather outfit. With dirty blonde hair flowing smoothly down like a waterfall from the top of her head the young woman then used the same hand to grab her by the throat and lift her a good foot off the ground. Reflexively she clawed at the hand that was depriving her of air but it was no good. What strength she possessed was insufficient to pry the fingers with the strength of steel from around her throat and as time went on the grip TIGHTENED.
"You are a threat against subject Athena Prime. You will now be terminated," the young woman declared before a neon blue light manifested from within her eyes. "Resistance is futile."
With that the young woman twisted her hand in a very specific way and, with the sound of a bone snapping, she woke up in her bedroom.
This dream was completely different from those that she'd had before during her times of power and it disturbed her greatly. In the past ten years she'd had dreams of the advancements that had been made in secret and the first steps a group of honorable soldiers took into the galaxy but this was on an entirely different scale. The weapons wielded by the enemies of earth were not staff or snake. Their transports were not golden pyramids carved with strange symbols. The only resemblance to the earlier enemies was the presence of a great darkness in the head of the woman on the throne on the platform.
Times have changed and mankind might not be able to deal with this threat unaided, she thought as she got out of her bed and began to put some clothes on. Looks like I'll need to look up Adrian or whatever name my brother is hiding under this year.
She just hoped that he wouldn't get into one of his 'moods' where he'd actually be in favor of seeing her dream come to pass.
The idiot always did love a good fight.