* / Chapter 2.
/ SECTION 3 EYES ONLY, THIS IS A PENDING INVESTIGATION.
/ COPIES ARE NOT TO BE MADE, Contact your section head immediately and enact BACKBURN protocol if you suspect any compromise or loss of operational integrity.
He doesn't know what tipped him off first: the smell of fresh air for the first time in a week or whether he could hear their breathing ever so slightly. But he knew this: he was no longer alone.
"I don't know where I am going to lead this stream from now on, I kinda want to have you guys call me with like more viewer questions?" He said this with uncertainty, for he knew he was being watched now.
He slightly adjusted his COM Pad so that the light from the hall outside his apartment would reflect on to it, providing him with more vision into his room. He did this in such a way that it wouldn't look suspicious, as to not set off any alarm bells to whoever was within this tiny room with him.
It was obvious now that he was going to be brought in, and he knew that he couldn't mute his microphone before fighting the person they had sent after him. They needed to hear it, and know the outcome.
There! He saw a slight shimmer from the invisibility upgrade the person had put on their armour. Invisibility was extremely hard to see, especially in dimly lit places. He was just happy he knew what to look out for.
If he wanted to keep ONI on their toes, he needed to move fast and bring the person down. He had to make sure he didn't make them suspicious though, as they would probably bring him down in a heartbeat if they suspected something was off. He hadn't been in a warzone for years, and he hoped that he still remembered his training well.
"Damn" he said looking to his right finally figuring out a method of escape.
"Sorry guys, I think that I have run out of food, I'll have to go to my kitchen and attempt to scavenge for some more." He made sure his microphone sensitivity was on its highest; he wanted them to hear everything.
Maxwell quickly locked his COM Pad and his computer. He didn't want them to be able to shut down the stream easily, or spread a virus throughout it. He had also doubted that they had brought an AI with them, as they would be able to shut down the stream with ease.
Kepler got up normally, stretched his limbs and continued out into his kitchen. His apartment wasn't the largest, with a kitchen/dining room/lounge room being the first room you stepped into, the bedroom that was hosting the stream exactly opposite from his front door. Next to his bedroom door was another door that led into his bathroom. You could get into his bathroom via a door in his bedroom, with a dresser being opposite such door. Upon looking to his left, he saw out to his balcony's glass door. He basked in the city's light knowing that he wouldn't be able to enjoy it for much longer. He went towards his fridge, opened it up, grabbed a whole cold meat pie and shut it again.
He heard footsteps within his bedroom as the soft crunch of a foot on carpet moved towards his computer. He put on his prescription glasses he had accidentally left on the kitchen counter. His eyes had been clearly damaged from a frag grenade's shrapnel. He didn't always wear them, but he decided that he would need to tonight.
He pretended to not notice as various password attempts had been made on his computer, with similar results on his COM Pad. He went back in, sat the meat pie down and went back out again, deciding that if he was to make it look plausible, he would grab more snacks from his fridge.
He grabbed a plate out of one of his kitchen's cupboards and placed it carefully on the bench. Grabbing a mud cake out of the fridge, he grabbed a kitchen knife and sliced a clean triangle from the whole cake. He placed it and the knife carefully on the plate, placed the cake back in the fridge, and then licked the knife clean.
Kepler made sure that before returning to his bedroom, that he had concealed his knife and grabbed an extra packet of chips.
He had noticed that more attempts had been made to log in to his computer on his way back in. He placed down all of the objects, then unlocked his com pad carefully.
Whilst still standing up, he opened up a radio frequencies app that could be used to talk on various UNSC frequencies. He noticed that one had immense activity surrounding his area, and selected it carefully.
He turned up the volume to max, put his hand in his pocket and began to talk.
"Hey assholes, enjoy this. I don't like being spied upon, nor do I like you attempting to get into my computer." He said with an evident smirk on his face.
The ONI operative uncloaked themselves and quickly ran at him. Kepler quickly plugged the COM Pad into his microphone's sound box, and isolated a high pitched noise to that channel. Upon hearing this noise, the operative seemed to cower in an attempt to get it out of their ears. He quickly grabbed the kitchen knife out of his pocket, and stabbed it right up in to the person's chest.
Max finally got a good look at them at this point, with them being so close to his eyes. They weren't just an ONI Operative, but it appeared that they were an ODST as well. Upon looking closely at their face, he did a rough estimate of their age determining that they were early – mid thirties, and swiftly kneed them in the place he had decided it would hurt them most.
They hadn't given up yet though, and drew a pistol. Time seemed to go in slow motion as Max grabbed the gun, and pointed it towards the roof as it fired. It sent powder down from the ceiling, as he turned the gun around and aimed it towards their chest. It seemed that their shields had a hard time recovering from the knife (As he had expected), and had an even worse time recovering from another bullet entering their stomach.
He quickly threw the guy back, with their body landing on the ground. He searched him for any other weapons as he was once trained to scavenge for them out on a battlefield, and upon finding nothing but a Combat Knife gave up.
He quickly layed them down on their back, and realised that they were moaning in pain.
"Sorry pal, it was you or me." He said, feeling pity for the man.
He ran out into his kitchen, managed to scavenge up a towel and ran back in. The familiar crackle of his armour attempting to regenerate its shields seemingly dying down. Not wanting to give complete medical attention to the man, nor wanting to kill them made him quickly put the towel around the outsides of the knife bulging out of his chest. The towel went just far enough as to cover the bullet wound as well.
Upon pressing down on the man, he heard a sickening moan/wail as his body begged for relief from the pain. He grabbed their hands, and firmly placed them ontop of where the wounds were.
"There, keep pressure on your wounds and you might just make it out of here alive." Max said, before finally realising that he had got blood all over his hands.
He logged back in to his computer, just as what he could assume to be ODST teams banging in his door. He didn't expect this much force, but knowing that they had his records, he doubted that they wanted to take any chances in acquisition.
"Well guys, it appears that they are here for me." He continued talking, with a slight panic in his voice.
"My name is Maxwell Kepler, and I thank you for joining me on Hunt the Truth" He clicked on the video from earlier, and released it on to his chat, and then he played the infamous four note tune from Giraud's audio log series.
Max quickly locked his computer again before turning it off as he heard loud voices shout from his front door.
"GET ON THE GROUND NOW, GET ON THE GODDAMN GROUND!" A rough voice shouted through the silence of his apartment.
Actually, now that he thought about it he realised that his building was too quiet. Normally one of his next door neighbours would be blasting music full volume by now, as they seemed to enjoy having parties. But it was deathly silent. Had they cleared his building just like they did with Giraud's, so there would be no witnesses to anything that may occur?
"Or what?" Max said in a mocking voice, not bothering to turn around and meet the team who had just wrecked his apartment's door.
He turned around just in time to see a gun swing at his face, to then be met by the rough texture of his carpet.
"Target acquired" One of the men seemed to say before putting cuffs onto Max's arms.
"I want two of you with him at all times, with Humbler and Prance being here and cleaning up that stream. The rest of you I want to be stationed outside, to prevent anything getting in or out." A rough voice seemed to say, obviously being the squad's leader.
"SIR YES SIR" They all shouted in unison as they moved to their set positions.
Max was dragged up, and was met face to face with their leader.
The man had a chiselled face, with a long scar running across one of his cheeks. His eyes seemed to be a steely-blue colour with little to no eyebrows above it. He seemed to be glaring at Maxwell, as if to be holding some sort of animosity against him.
"You know, you could just stop glaring at me and help your squadmate down there." Max seemed to say this in a matter-of-fact tone, which seemed to anger him more.
"Humbler, get that soldier out of here right now." He seemed to have his rage bubbling just below the surface. Max knew that he could get anger easily out of this guy, but he just had to be careful about how and when.
Kepler looked to his left and saw Humbler, a girl in her Mid-Twenties with brunette hair and emerald green eyes lift the man he had injured earlier. He moaned his thanks, as she helped him up and helped him to safety. She had obviously not seen war, as she had little to no scarring anywhere on her body.
"For a minute there, I didn't think you cared about your squad." Kepler seemed to say, in a smartass sort of tone.
Something seemed to break in the man then, as he sent a punch hurtling towards Max's face. It was too fast for him to dodge though, as it connected with the opposite side of where the gun had connected, just to the left of his eye.
Maxwell attempted to lift his head up, in an attempt to knock the dizziness he had encountered away. The man seemed to help in this matter, by lifting up his head by his chin. By this point, Max had realised that he wasn't wearing any glasses. As the man went to swing again, one of the people holding his arms finally spoke up.
"Gray-One, Back down!" They shouted at the man.
Finally, he eased. He turned Kepler's head, admiring his handiwork and let go of his head.
"See? I do care about my team." He seemed to be the one making the sly remarks now. Max didn't want to feel any more pain, so he decided to back down for the time being.
"Get him out of my sight, put him on the pelican but DO NOT take off. We might need him later." He grinned at Max before heading towards Kepler's computer.
Before being dragged out, Kepler managed to grab a small earpiece from his bench. He shot a glare at Gray-One's way, as he stood from his bedroom door watching him be brought out.