[A/N: It's been a while since my last chapter so I hope you all enjoy this one. This a very important part of the story so take it all in. Now a little thing on action: I feel as though Prototype has a very story heavy audience- which is good. That makes for very in depth and descriptive tales. But the series is also heavily action based. I read a lot a stories where action takes a backseat, done in a way where the characters have outlandish new abilities making them Mary Sues or is nonexistant altogether. That is fine, but I think it ignores a key part of the series. Prototype is 50/50 story and action. So I'm going to have a lot of fighting of a graphic nature in my fic. Hopefully you all can enjoy reading it as much as I do thinking it up. Again, review are appreciated and you will receive responses. Thank you.
1530 Hours
Lompoc, California
Vandenberg Air Force Base
30 Meters Below Ground
Secured Route
An enormous convoy of over twenty armored vehicles are idle in an underground holding station as everyone feverishly packed up as much as they could. Pratchett sat uncomfortably inside the chassis of an Armoured Personnel Carrier that was centered within the line. He was surrounded by a few of his gun-toting men who nervously huddled together inside the carrier. The tension in the air was thick, for the General had just squeezed his radio into a broken mess after the squad of E-Codes he sent after the intruder didn't respond to his calls. He kept his eyes low and elbows on his knees with laced fingers up to his nose. His men have seen him pissed off before, but he cannot show them that he was also nervous from the insanity of their base being attacked.
"Radio", Pratchett grumbled.
Without hesitation, every soldier pulled the radios off of their respective vests and held them in front of the General to take. He took up the one closest to his right and tweaked the settings until they matched his personal frequency.
"Eagle Eye report. Over," he said into the receiver.
"No movement topside, Throne. Over."
He leaned back into his seat and sighed. The stress made Pratchett bite his lip so hard that the other veterans would have seen blood if the interior was lit well enough.
"After evac, initiate Operation Castle Sweep. Over."
Frantic looks were shared between his men.
"Roger that, Throne. Castle Sweep is a go after your dismissal. Over."
Pratchett closed his eyes. They have ran drills for a day like this, but they never thought it'd come. They are motherfucking Blackwatch, the deadliest organization to be American funded. Yet they are being toppled by one man of their own creation. If the super soldiers couldn't stop him, maybe this will.
"Right Hand to Throne. Right Hand to Throne. Doctor Myers has been seated. Over" the communications device blared out in Deacon's voice.
"Roger that Right Hand. Hold position at E-Base Zero One for our arrival. Over."
"What would be your ETA, Throne? Over."
The disgruntled old, veteran raised his wrist to his face, but couldn't make out the time in the darkness. If he was a little late it wouldn't matter. He was the man in charge after all.
"ETA is seventeen hundred hours, Right Hand. Over."
"Roger that, Throne. We will hold position at E-Base Zero One for you arrival, but may I ask why you are coming, sir? Over."
"Castle Sweep has been initiated Right Hand. Prep your main bay for the VIP. Over."
"Damn it. What happened after we left? Over."
"I will conduct a briefing when I get there. Over."
"Roger that, Throne. But what if whatever it is you're purging survives? Over."
"We do what we always do, son. We hold the Red Line. Over."
1530 Hours
Lompoc, California
Vandenberg Air Force Base
30 Meters Below Ground
Cell Block D
Hurried boots stomped down the halls of the metal jail cells as Blackwatch soldiers rushed to intercept their enemy. Their shadows moved over the view window in Rook's jail cell and the distant echo of gunshots alerted him to the gravity of the situation. Something was loose and it was pissed. Two guards stood in front of his door to contain him, should he find a way to free himself from his bindings, yet they stood uncomfortably in their boots. The sounds of battle grew louder and bloodier as man after man was cut down by whatever was making its way down the halls.
"Shit, man. They need backup."
"Don't worry about it. Orders were to stay here until further notice. I'm not being shitcanned by Deacon or the General for disobeying orders."
A distant explosion shook them where they stood and even rattled the former Colonel.
"Shit," the apprehensive guard said.
"Grenade. That should do it," the other replied. "Job done."
A light cloud of darkened smoke poured from the direction of the commotion, yet not a single gunman came back.
"They're not returning to post. What the hell is going on?"
"Didn't I say not to worry?"
"Dude, seriously. That could be an escaped test subject or a loose training infected."
They didn't have to guess anymore after a clawed figure pounced out of the smoke and ripped through their abdomens, inadvertently making three long tears into the metal of the cell door.
"Fuck," former Colonel Rooks yelped out.
He held his breath realizing his mistake. Whatever killed those men definitely heard him and was going to make him the next victim. Metal like finger-blades, crept into the fresh tears and wrenched the door upwards, removing it from its bindings. Rook's eyes were closed tight and he braced for the incoming slaughter.
"No. No," he yelled out as he turned his face away from the figure that stomped into his prison.
"I don't believe it," a familiar voice said to him.
His eyes opened fast and he looked at his supposed killer face to face. His brow furrowed and his teeth were bared, now that he realized James Heller was standing in front of him again.
"Y-you," he growled out.
"Me," he replied. "Thought you'd be dead." the walking viral being mocked as his arms shifted their mass back into human limbs so he could fold his arms.
"Execution was today. Thanks to you."
"I didn't do this to you, Rooks. You did it to yourself."
The former Colonel wiggled in his seat which declined him his frustrated punches.
"Did you come to kill me or something? To fix a mistake you made in New York?! Huh?"
"I'm here to kill alright. But not you."
Heller turned his back to the shackled man from his past and stepped away.
"W-wait! Free me! You can't leave me here!"
"Yes, I can motherfucker."
Heller was more than ten feet away from the cell when Rooks screamed out, "I gave you your child, you bastard!"
Rook's head was low, and his breathing was heavy. The shadow of his former enemy rose over him as he stepped back in the cell.
"My head is burning and I just ate a few science experiments. I'm not in a good mood." Heller said. "Do not make me regret this."
Only a slight tug was needed to separate the chain links which bound the ex-operative and he rose up on his aching legs. Heller marched out of the cell and continued on the route that the hivemind was pulling him and Rooks picked up one of the fallen guard's rifle and staggered along.
"You haven't told me who you're here to kill, Heller."
James' face twisted into a scowl as he came into another hall rowed with holding cells. Like land mines, every step exploded pain into his mind which his healing factor couldn't soothe. Now he had an annoying sidekick in his ear to add to his frustration. His question was one he was hesitant to answer, no one truly needs to know why he's there, but it's not like the fallen soldier would be able to oppose him if he disapproved.
"Everyone and Pariah," he grunted.
"Good," Rooks replied.
"Good? I expected you to try and talk me out of killing your friends."
"These are not my friends, you asshole. I'm done with Blackwatch. Seeing them burned to the ground- along with their little prodigy- would be the best severance package I could receive."
"So you flipped, huh," Heller mocked with snapping fingers, "Just like that?"
"This was many years in the making. This whole damn organization is fucked up from top to bottom. The straw that broke the camels back was Mercer and yourself. The brass believe we're untouchable; unbeatable. They're wrong. And even after the death of thousands of fighters and millions of civvies, they still can't see that. Now I just want to go home and leave all of this behind me."
"How fucking noble of you."
"Don't you dare try and act superior to me, Heller. I know who you are. You're a selfish killer, just like me. Just like most people here."
The majority of the walk was silent after that, with the exception of a few security doors needing to be broken open. Though it was still unnaturally silent. Rooks has been up and down these halls on a normal day and they would be packed with soldiers and lab coats. They have made it through multiple checkpoints unassaulted. This was not the usual atmosphere of this place. Then it clicked in Rooks' mind that it would only be this vacant is people were evacuating. There is only one reason they are allowed to do that.
"Fuck," the vet exclaimed and started sprinting. "We have to move- fast!"
"What is this, Rooks," Heller asked catching up to his former enemy.
"Castle Sweep!"
Heller searched his mind for the definition of these words, but only had past rumors overheard by a few lackeys from their superiors. A large worker layoff was the talk being passed around, but he doubted a few firings would have the Colonel in a panic.
"The fuck is that," he questioned.
"It's a scorched earth policy is what it is! They're moving off-site and blowing this bitch up!"
"Shit," Heller yelled and in one swift movement scooped up the Colonel in his arms and sprinted with his inhuman speed towards the pull of the hivemind, which was becoming the slightest bit less intense.
1544 Hours
Lompoc, California
Vandenberg Air Force Base
30 Meters Below Ground
Secured Route
As they came into the still open gates of the underground munitions and vehicle bay, they saw that the heavily grouped convoy was already close to being a mile ahead down the right side tunnel. A few humvees were left behind. Rooks took the opportunity of commandeering one. Just as he switched it on the ground shook from the first wave of explosions from the topside.
"You can get at them later! We need to-"
He looked over and saw that the infected being was out of earshot, running full speed in pursuit of his targets down the right tunnel.
"Fuck it," Rooks said and sped off down the left tunnel to escape decimation.
Each step under his foot cracked the pavement and propelled him faster and faster towards the tail end of the caravan. James was close to two-hundred miles an hour, but the convoy's head start still put them a good ways in front. As the tunnel began raising upwards, natural light from the sun illuminated the exit and welcomed the black painted vehicles to the highway. The armored trucks, APCs and tanks rose up out of a barricaded tunnel on the side of the one-oh-one highway, running down the wooden stop posts that kept civilians out.
As the humvee that ended the line pulled out, the tunnel erupted in a display of fire and smoke from the detonation of the stockpile of weapons deep inside. However, Heller came flying out of the exit, fire eating away at his back and brought his hammerfists down onto the humvee taking it out in one crushing hit. The boom alerted all others in the line of his presence and the swivel guns came pointing his way.
"Tango is on our ass! I repeat, tango is on our ass!" blared over the radios of everyone in the line.
Inside his APC, Pratchett was furiously banging his fist into the metal chassis until it went numb. With his good hand, he pressed the radio to his beard and growled out, "All guns to the tail! All guns to the tail! Eagle Eye move to Day Care and cover our asses!"
"Roger that, Throne. Moving to Day Care for suppression."
James was taking bullets to the face and torso as he caught up to the second humvee. The Gatling gun thundered heavy rounds into his flesh, but his forward speed was unhindered. As he got closer to the vehicle the driver began to swerve back and forth to avoid him making contact, but his actions were to no avail. With one hand James lifted the back of the military truck flipping it forward. The gunner in the rooftop swivel was immediately crushed between the heavy landrover and the road as everyone else inside was violently tossed about.
In the chaos, Heller skillfully rolled over the decommissioned truck and got up to the next one which was now launching grenades at him. The biomass generated shield came up on his arm and blocked the intense barrage of colliding munitions. Bullets were one thing, but explosive payload were still a threat to Heller's biomass reserves. He wouldn't lose much from direct hits, but a lucky shot could topple him, allowing the convoy a better chance at escaping.
The hardened shield was holding strong absorbing each blast without fear of cracking, but James needed to move on. As grenades exploded against him, he swung his unshielded hand upwards. In an instant it became the whipfist and he pulled it down bisecting the gunner and the vehicle in his path.
"Two down, sir. Over," the radios called.
"Move Day Care to the front! Wide defensive wall! Eagle Eye, where are you?!" The General rasped out.
"Eagle Eye is in pursuit. Over." replied the radio.
Ahead of Heller the line of trucks, APCs and tanks began to spread. No longer a single line, but now four groups each taking up a lane of their own, two of which riding on the oncoming traffic side. Most notably of which a black semi-truck, with heavily plated trailer pushed ahead of the group and took the lead. This was it. Heller's hivemind pointed right to this truck and it was flaming. It was the most intense it ever was, and it was clear why; Pariah was inside.
The road in front of James burst into dust clouds from high-powered bullets. He looked behind him and found three Apache gunships were gaining on him and dispersing as many rounds as possible.
"You won't stop me," he roared. "None of you are safe!"
The helicopters came in closer and each shot a tank destroying missile at their single target. He jumped in time to avoid the first explosive, but the second one got him in air. He angled himself so as to fall back onto his feet facing the convoy, but just as he touched the ground, the final third rocket took him off his feet. He rolled and tumbled a few times before rebounding back onto his boots to the spray of guns from both ends. 'This isn't going to work' he thought. 'Sandwiched between two walls of death.' Everything around him within a ten-foot radius was being obliterated by bullets. Every now and again a few lucky round would clip off a few miniscule amounts of flesh which his body would replace. If he was going to get to that truck he'd need to do it now, for he does not know what may be in store once they get further down the highway. Another fleet of helicopters could be waiting, or even a line of artillery cannons could be in position.
The tanks in front swiveled their heavy cannons around and took aim. Heller instinctively morphed on his shields as this offered a decent opportunity to turn the tides of battle. With massive booms, they fired their rounds. It was a movement so fast and precise that normal human eyes couldn't follow it. One arm went up over his head and the other went outward to the side in a swatting motion. He got the rounds right on the underside of their bodies and ricocheted them off his buckler like protection. The middle heli above him could not react to the tank round which was now coming directly for its cockpit. The other went to the left and took out the far side of the convoy. Each had the same result, explosion then metal husks careening into their comrades. The APC that was struck came across the road divider and broadsided the tank that fired upon Heller. The APC's payload exploded, taking out the tank and few other humvees with it. The helicopter burst, whipping its tail rotor into the one to it's left taking both down into the road. The fight was now on Heller's side with only a single bird on him and an APC, a tank with a couple of trucks, and a semi ahead.
Inside his carrier Pratchett was fuming.
"E-Codes, take him out! Take him out!" he coughed into the radio.
"With pleasure," one replied.
The missiles came raining down on Heller now from the remaining Abrams and the helicopter. His agility kept him from being tagged as he flipped and danced around the road. His speed was paying off as the explosions stopped when he got closer to the convoy. One wrong move and the VIP would be all over the highway. He thought himself in the clear when he got a hand on the trailer door. He was proven wrong when two E-Codes broke through and tackled him into the ground. They clung tightly to him as they rolled in the dirt. Even when they found themselves under the treads off Pratchett's APC they continued to hold on. The convoy left them in the tracks, but the helicopter pulled back to assist.
"Get off of me!" Heller boomed.
And they did. Both jumped away clutching as much of him as they could. One had a large collection of ribs and a lung, while the other came away with an arm and a decent amount of facial tissue. James staggered to his feet as his wounds began healing his mutant looking appearance. Within under a second he mutated back to his prime. He exploded off of his legs trying to continue on with the chase for Pariah, but a super soldier caught up mid jump and delivered a kick that dropped him into the dirt. The other was upon him, coming down attempting a head stomp. Heller's prior fight with these bastards came in handy as it allowed him to avoid the attack with a back roll to his feet. The E-Codes like to keep on the assault, with overpowering numbers, speed and maiming techniques, he rationalized. They are constantly going for blind spots and trying to keep him off balance. If he could keep them both in eye site he will be able to take them. Without the confined space of that hallway, they shouldn't be able to move around as easily either. He's lucky that there are two this time.
They both closed in on him from the front and came with lightning-fast punches, kicks, and chops. He backed away avoiding the hits, ducking, and diving out of their reach, yet they kept the flurries up by flipping over one another and actually throwing each other at him. They came in a second time, but this time he met them half-way. He ducked under an outstretched arm meant to hit his throat like a clothes-line, and gave a heavy punch to the one in the rear. The soldier flew several dozen meters and collided with a tree on the side of the highway. His back made a very sizeable dent in the thick bark, but worst of all his spinal gear had been damaged. The casing was cracked and leaking his blue serum all down his uniform and into the soil under his feet. As the soldier looked up it was over him. He got to see just as the bladed end of Heller's whipfist embedded itself into his face which extended a few inches out the back of his head. Heller threw his arm up to the buzz of the Apache's chain gun and whipped the E-Codes corpse into the rotors.
The air was clear after the gunship came to a crash down into the neighboring hill. The final E-Code came at Heller with a maddening roar. He landed three punches and a kick, but when he went for another he found his leg pinned under James' arm. The hammerfists came on and the super soldier became frantic. He punched at Heller's face with all his might but each broken nose, missing eye and dislocated jaw was being healed before the next punch could be landed. James put his meaty, gorilla-like hand over the screaming E-Codes head and squeezed. Like a rather large blueberry, the supersoldier's head was juiced to the sound of a deep, wet crunch. The skull was crushed and the illuminated fluid that kept him active gushed from between the fingers. He was then fed on for information and mass.
"If all else fails, we are going for Castle Sweep." Pratchett's voice said as images of him and his two E-Code guards followed him. "We are going to blow this place up with him inside, and rebuild afterward. We can hold the child in Day Care until the time is right to move him again."
"Day Care, sir?" the consumed E-Code asked.
"It's a truck fitted to hold contagions of this magnitude. We'll keep it in the truck tucked away in the hills for however long it takes. I want you to to ride with it to keep it secure."
"Understood, sir."
The truck's door opens and inside the Pariah child is tied to a padded metal gurney inside a thick glass cube that takes up much of the back of the trailer.
"So damn sad. It's just a kid," says the other E-Code.
"Nah, man. That thing is almost as old as Pratchett and just as deadly. Given the opportunity it'd kill us all."
"Shit. Then I take back what I said about this being sad."
"My time is now," says a multitude of whispering voices.
"Did you say something," questioned the consumed soldier.
"Not me man. I heard that shit too."
1610 Hours
California
Highway 101
Open Road
Pratchett didn't bother calling for reports from what was left of Eagle Eye and his super soldiers. If they survived they would call him, and since it had been a good ten minutes since they departed ways, it must mean the worst has happened. No matter, as long as that infected fuck was off his ass, he'd be able to regroup in LA with Deacon and Santos to better combat this threat. In a few short minutes, Day Care will split off into the barren hills keeping the VIP from any habitable areas and no enemy is going to be able to locate them far out into the hills. Especially not one man.
"Sir," a APC operator called out. "Day Care is signaling for break off."
"Good, good," Pratchett strained out with his raw throat.
"Radio for half of the remaining caravan to accompany them. The rest of us will move-"
The Bradley APC lifted up in the front from the force of Heller's landing on the last tank, jostling everyone inside. The heavy carrier survived the impact and subsequent explosion fairly well. Outside of the carrier was another story. Every humvee was totaled or tossed on their side. Some caught fire and were in the stages of blowing up. The Day Care truck fell onto its side screeching as the armored trailer scraped along the ground.
"Why won't he die," Pratchett screamed out from a sore throat.
Everyone was still recovering when Pratchett called out, "Shoot him! Shoot him now!"
The M2 Bradley's Bushmaster cannon aimed squarely at James who still stood on the top of the wrecked tank. He looked at the survived APC just in time to roll out of the way as it opened fire. He came underneath it ducking under its main gun which could not be pointed as far down and dug his fingers into the damaged tread. He used his arm to lift it up tilting the metal beast on one track. Everyone inside fell to the opposite side he was lifting, cursing and yelling in dismay. Using his legs and back Heller hoisted the massive war machine over his head. The engine grinded and the treads spun in a futile effort to get away.
"Out ah'here with that shit," James screamed as he tossed the Bradley as far as he could over a hill several hundred feet up and away.
The distant crash signaled the end of the annoying vehicle and an open path to the end goal. He ignored it throughout much of this chase, but the hivemind and its blaring voice was at an all time feverish intensity. Just one long scream that grew louder and louder with every step to the trailer. The afternoon sun only made part of the inside visible, but he could see clearly the slightly red-tinted eyes of the boy peering through the shadows. Freed from his bindings he sat legs crossed in the glass box made to contain him. His face was expressionless and his hair was dark, but his eerily pale skin made it clear this being wasn't normal.
"You came," the child said in a voice that came from his mouth and from Heller's mind. A whisper that repeated itself three times before trailing off into the rolling scream of the hivemind. "I was so lonely, and you came."
"This isn't a playdate. I'm here to end you." Heller retorted.
The metal groaned under Jame's foot as he stepped deeper into the trailer and towards the glass that held the boy.
"No. Playtime is later," Pariah whisper-spoke.
To someone like Pariah they were unbreakable, but to Heller the reinforced glass was a trivial blockade. He pushed with one hand and it shattered under the force, raining bits of inch thick safety glass all around. He didn't see it when it happened, but he could feel it in his mind. An awkward, unused expression of a mouth stretching from ear to ear. The kid was smiling as the glass fell around him and the fresh outside air met his skin. Before Heller could even react the child was in air and shoving Heller out of the trailer. He tumbled over himself landing on his back flat on the black road, eyes wide with surprise. It was not a normal shove, no, that requires strength. Especially to move someone as heavy as James Heller. This was different. It felt almost like a jump. The hivemind was no longer a screaming ocean in his head. In fact his head was clear for once. But he heard to whispering voice of Pariah giggling all around. He looked down into the trailer and didn't see the kid inside. It was empty. Completely empty. He looked around still laying on his butt wondering how the hell the boy got out of his sight so fast. Another "push" came from behind him sending him flying into a wrecked humvee face first. He stood up as fast as he could and again lost sight of the boy. He growled and used his viral sonar. The orange ring came back empty of a small child. He looked all around to his side and back, but to to no avail as all he found was the giggling of the boy again.
"Where are you," he screamed.
"Inside you," he replied from below.
Heller looked down and saw the under four-foot tall child standing in front of him with both hands deep inside of his stomach. Somehow without him noticing the boy got to Heller and began digging. He couldn't feel the arms, he couldn't feel the searching fingers, but he could feel the build up of two knots. Two balls collecting in the palms of Pariah's hands growing and feeding off of Heller's biomass.
"Wh-what," Heller said in shock. "What are you doing to me?!"
He went for a punch and got nothing but air as Pariah jumped back. James fell to his knees as his tendrils writhed over his body, pulling more from him and giving it to the two masses. He hunched over as blood leaked from his throat and felt the unmistakable feeling of being consumed. In his mind was the laughter of Pariah echoing in his brain as he felt something finally give. Heller screamed as a human arm rose out of him. It was skinless but has rapidly growing muscle as it came out of his back. It grasped around at the air until it found the ground to pull itself out with. A skull then a torso came out of Heller as the skeleton used the traction of the road to get itself out. Right on its heels was another skinless being crawling up and out of him.
"They listen. You don't. I like them more." the boy said as the human figures stood next to him.
The taller one's skin just came through and was now becoming clothing. Boots, jeans a hooded sweater and jacket. The other fixed its skin and made a bodysuit without footwear. Heller gasped and choked while holding himself for stability. He felt emptier than normal. Much less dense as he normally did.
"What did you d-"
He looked up and came face to face with his old foe, Alex Mercer, and Pariah's mother, Elizabeth Greene, all joining hands in a horrific family-like image.
[A/N: Aw shit, there it is! One of the big points of the story. Keep reading for even crazier moments and to see how the return of the two deadliest infected turns out.]