"Death's precedents are not simply reserved for the individual. It is a causality only with exclusive methods. Therefore, it is not bound by the laws of individuality, but by those that encompass a world." -Hades


Chapter 22- Salvage

Seattle, Washington (outskirts)

United States

May 26, 2020

Real World Time- 7:45 PM

"Weapons check."

The click of safeties and the metallic clack of magazines being slapped into weapons echoed off the ballistic steel walls. The soldiers then made a safety audit on their tactical gear and tightened straps looped under their arms to keep any hard materials from colliding with movement.

The men found themselves angling downward on the benches inside the armored truck and bounced as the wheels absorbed the roughened terrain.

"We're off-road boys," the commander shouted from the front just before he flicked a switch on the bottom of his gas mask to ready an oxygen cartridge. His voice was now muffled as he added, "Five minutes to drop-off."

The commander pointed at one of the soldiers. "Sebastian, status."

The man named Sebastian slid his finger along a tablet and pulled up a birds-eye view of a heavily wooded area that had been designated by Rick Moore's satellite feed, which had then been transferred to their cloaked UAV monitoring from above. He used the simulated control stick on the tablet's screen to shift the angle of the UAV by a few degrees and activated the infrared sight. A few red and orange dots appeared on the feed from the UAV.

"Plenty of activity," Sebastian reported.

"Sky?"

"Negative."

"Good. We hoof it north and wrap around as planned. No deviations unless you meet contacts outside the half-mile radius. Understood?"

A couple of the men voiced their acknowledgment while some gave a playful salute. It was easy for the commander to tell who was who with this seemingly unprofessional response.

"30 seconds!" someone shouted from the front.

Sebastian set the UAV back to its autonomous pre-programmed flight path. He settled the stock of his assault rifle into the space between his armpit and shoulder. Hang in there Terrance. We're on the way.

Rick Moore had done a solid job finding this place. Using the security cameras in the city and then hacking into a satellite had dismissed any doubts that the men previously had in the tech geek. It was difficult getting used to the outsider Emily had suddenly dumped on them out of the blue. But Moore had found their friend. That was definitely worth something.

The steel doors at the back of the truck opened and the waning daylight seeped through. The rescue team split into two groups and made their way to the first checkpoint without any resistance or sign of life. The woods were disturbingly quiet, as if the animals were holding their breath, fully aware of the intent of these men in full combat gear.

They reached their destination from the north as planned and the second group took position to the northeast a short distance from their comrades. They eyed the large storage facility where the enemy held Terrance Prest.

It was clear that the building had previously been long abandoned despite the obvious refurbishings. Much of the brick was missing on some walls and a cracked pillar of cement threatened to fall, which would bring down a chunk of the structure's roof in a corner. The pyramidal, steel roof was dented and covered with rust. A large metal door was the main entrance that rolled on wheels from side to side. Only one window was visible from this side of the building with thin, peeling bars. It could easily fit two men entering simultaneous.

One of the men next to Sebastian leveled his assault rifle, a modified M4A1, and viewed the building using his IR scope to pick up any heat signatures inside the building. He would have preferred his Mk-13 sniper, but this wasn't a long-range mission and didn't require his desired skill set.

The sniper grumbled a bit to himself and lowered the rifle.

"So?" Sebastian asked after a moment of contemplation.

"They're blocking me a bit. Mylar foil I bet," the sniper said. "I can pick up a couple, but I'm probably missing about half a dozen of them."

Sebastian nodded. Mylar foil was a solid counter to infrared. It blocked the electromagnetic radiation from reading surface body heat.

After the sniper affirmed the positions of some targets, Sebastian relayed it to the rest of the men on a closed radio frequency.

"Twelve cameras," someone reported. "Looks like they're wired. Some clean holes in the gutters too."

Sebastian turned to another man laying prone to his right. "What do you think Tink? No way to go in undetected. We're going to have to make them dark. It will give us some time."

The man with the nickname, Tink, pulled a small device from one of his pouches with a closed switch on its side. It was a portable EMP device that would knock out any electronics in a specified radius. Well, mostly specified. Electromagnetic waves didn't maintain a perfect area of effect and tended to stray.

He eyed Sebastion and gave him a fake frown. "Seriously, it's Tinker. Not Tink."

The sniper snickered. "Whatever you say Tinker Bell."

"Ugh, shut up, Beck."

Tinker attempted to shut out Beck's further comments as he adjusted the timer on the portable EMP and waited for the go-ahead.

"Do you think he talked?" Beck asked.

Sebastian shook his head in irritation. Beck was a fairly new addition to the group. He didn't know Terrance like he did. The indifference and lack of humanity in his voice wasn't appropriate. "People like Terrance don't talk."

"I just want one of these bastards for myself," Tinker said, his anger rising as he was reminded that Terrance had most likely been tortured.

After the commander was briefed on the situation, they received the order. Tinker hurled the EMP at the building. The device landed a few inches from where the edge of the wall met the dirt. A deeper silence seemed to follow for a brief moment as if everyone's ears had been closed off to the world. They took this as their signal and moved in on the building.

It would have to be quick. Whoever was on security would soon be alerted to their presence when the cameras went black. They had only a few seconds to take advantage of the disarray.

Sebastian's group took the right side with the large metal door while the second group moved in on the window.

They smashed the already splintered glass and lobbed in a chemical riot control grenade. The shouts from inside confirmed their suspicions and one of the soldiers settled his rifle on the window ledge to pump in a few rounds. He could make out one individual attempting to pick up the cylindrical grenade that skittered on the floor. One quick three-fire burst from the assault rifle dropped the man over the grenade he was attempting to retrieve.

Sebastian's team had given up on the front sliding metal door which was, unsurprisingly, locked tight from the inside. They were already on their way up the side of the building with only the quiet whisper of the climbing harness distributing the rope. Upon reaching the roof, they went to work cutting through to make their own entrance. The cutting took no time at all given the deterioration of the thin metal, and soon they had a jagged hole large enough to slip through.

Tinker was the first to risk a look inside. A long hallway extended to either side. A bend in the hall leaked a thick, white chemical that indicated their entrance in the roof was close to the only window where the enemy hunkered down.

Tinker nodded to Sebastian and Beck. They flicked the switch on the underside of their gas masks to insert an oxygen cartridge.

All three dropped down into the room, the sound of gunfire near the front of the building drowned out their boots hitting the concrete floor. Sebastian covered the rear as Beck and Tinker moved up on the chemical fog that was beginning to thin out.

It only took a half-second judgment call. They discerned the number of targets, where the friendlies were, and poured a full magazine each into five men that were spread out around the window. One of them managed to let out a scream before a final bullet put him out of his misery.

They reloaded and Tinker moved to secure another bend a short ways down this second hall, while Beck gave the rest of the team outside the all-clear.

The commander was the last through the window. He held a hand to his ear and muttered something under his breath before bringing his assault rifle back up.

"Bravo is making their way to the other side with the battering ram to take out the south wall. They met some unexpected resistance near the road. Nothing major."

"Do we move now sir?" a soldier asked.

"Yes, we need to break off before the enemy converges on this position. It's too tight. Let's move."

Sebastian and his team regrouped and met at the hole in the ceiling where they had flanked the now dead opposition. They moved down the hallway and cleared any rooms they came across. All of them were empty. After a few minutes, they arrived at what appeared to be a receiving area. The truck dock outside hadn't been there when they scouted the building, so Sebastian assumed that this section had been renovated for a different purpose from what was actually intended when first constructed. This main roof was supported by makeshift, wooden rafters that clearly wouldn't be passing the state of Washington's building code. A number of metal landings led a few dozen feet up to reach a web of interconnected walkways.

A group of armed men crouched on the walkways opened fire on the trio who took cover behind a tall stack of wood pallets covered by a tarp. The pallets burst with small explosions of splinters and debris.

Beck ventured away from his comrades and rolled behind a pack of barrels chained together.

"Cover me!"

Sebastian and Tinker obeyed. They glanced around the corner of the pallets and let loose a volley of bullets in the general direction of their adversaries. The thump of bullets against the pallets receded and Beck settled his rifle on the rim of one of the barrels. When one of the men above exposed himself his head whipped to the side as a 5.56 mm round punched through. The other three men on the walkways didn't seem inclined to initiate a counter-attack as they saw their fellow collapse.

Their split-second hesitation didn't go unnoticed. Sebastian moved right as Tinker took the opposite side and they positioned themselves underneath the grated bottoms of the walkways the men stood on. The flimsy metal buckled and shredded as more rounds from the M4A1s tore through the flesh of the fear-stricken men.

Beck moved to the opposite side of the loading area and secured a door that led further into the depot. The men above were soon confirmed dead and the three soldiers convened.

Tinker made a few deliberate tests on the door handle before twisting it. A satisfying clank reached them from the other side as a latch slid free. The door opened with a strained groan and he peered down a hallway that stretched to the right and angled once again at about a hundred meters.

"Who the hell designed this place?" Tinker muttered.

"It's like a base out of some B-rated spy movie," Beck commented.

They made their way down the hallway with Sebastian leading. He extended his arm behind him, palm facing out and put a finger to his lips. He gestured to a faint shadow along the floor where the hallway tapered off.

"Amateurs," Beck whispered. "These guys really caught Terrance?"

Sebastian couldn't deny that he had a point. So far the men they encountered had plenty to be desired. They weren't strangers to combat, but they also lacked a discipline that came from being in an organized unit for years. He didn't doubt that some of them might have once been soldiers, but there was no way they displayed the combat experience of those in the special forces or other specialized faction. They hadn't experienced what he had. Far from it.

However, it would be difficult to take the hallway from the front. The enemy would be hunkered down around makeshift barricades and firing from the safety of sharp corners.

If that was the case...

Sebastian gestured for Beck and Tinker to move in closer.

"Alright," he whispered. "Bravo is coming in from the south with the ram. All we need is patience. Wait for the signal."

Beck and Tinker nodded as they caught on to his plan.

They waited without a word, eyeing the shifting shadows around the corner of the hallway. Barely audible whispers traveled along the walls from the nervous men waiting around the corner.

Sebastian's trained senses analyzed the shadow that stretched along the floor. He could make out the fuzzy outline of the rectangular light that failed to encompass the entirety of the floor. It also waned considerably as it reached for the wall with the shadow left of center. The light also dimmed at the edges at regular intervals of about a second-and-a-half each from right to left at his perspective. He could then discern that the light was from a singular hanging lightbulb swaying back and forth, and that it was not in the hallway itself, but was beyond the threshold of an open doorway given its shape and inconsistency.

Sebastian then retraced his team's fighting through the warehouse and visualized the layout of the building he had memorized on the drive to the north side. If his memory served him well (which it did), they were just a few meters away from the south side where Bravo would be making their entrance. First the ram would be used on the outer wall, then the next room adjacent would be planted with strip charges.

Sebastian estimated the wait time to be between thirty and forty-five seconds after the first breach. The main bulk of the enemy forces would hopefully be concentrated to the rear of the room near the charges. A flash grenade from Sebastian's group would follow after Bravo provided the opening.

This was his thought process. It was second-nature to him. Countless operations over the course of decades. This was the cool mind of a man trained in the art of killing as a lifelong occupation.

A loud crash reverberated throughout the building and a shift in the shadows on the floor betrayed the enemies' surprise.

Sebastian instinctively held up a hand for Tinker and Beck to wait, even though it probably wasn't necessary.

Five seconds. The flash grenades were already in their hands.

Ten seconds. The shadows began to recede towards the door.

Twenty seconds. The three soldiers readied their throwing motions and shifted their feet at an angle.

Thirty seconds. The explosion rocked the building as Bravo team's strip charges detonated and strategically destroyed two opposite sections of the rear wall in the room Sebastian and his team saw for the first time as they hurled the grenades. The grenades bounced and then burst into a flash of white light that disoriented the enemy soldiers. Some of them fired their weapons blindly in desperation at the crumbling wall that had distracted them.

Bravo team bowed out of the fight gracefully as they understood what was happening.

Beck was first into the room, and he emptied the magazine of his assault rifle into a group of enemies to the right side as he dropped to a prone position. Tinker took the party to the left as Sebastian disabled the men lying facedown on the ground at the center of the room, who had most likely been thrown off their feet due to the force of the explosion from behind. A third man was struggling to his feet next to the other two and Sebastian stepped in front of him and drove the butt of his weapon into the man's face. The soldier fell unconscious and his head lolled to the side.

It wasn't until the adrenaline of the battle wore off that they focused their attention on the individual sitting limp in the chair at the center of the room, arms bound behind his back.

Sebastian crouched in front of the battered form of the man they had come to rescue, Terrance Prest. Behind him he could hear Tinker cursing under his breath. Beck stood to the side with a heavily suppressed grimace forming on his face.

"Dammit Terrance," Sebastian whispered. "You tough son of a bitch."

The tortured man didn't seem alive at first glance, but one could hear a strained gasp escape his lips every few seconds. It was impossible to discern from sight if his chest was rising or falling with the strained breathing. His face was a bloody mess, a mix of fresh red wet and old dry. Multiple short, thin slits covered his legs where a sharp weapon had penetrated his skin multiple times. A few of his fingernails were missing, and the soft exposed flesh underneath was turning a nasty purple.

Beck's expression had softened and he rested a reassuring hand on Sebastian's shoulder. The gesture was appreciated. His previous comments were already forgotten.

Tinker went to work on Terrance's binds and he gave them a half-smile. "Maybe there was no need for a rescue mission. He had almost worked his way out."

Soon they heard the commander barking orders on the other side of the room. "Let's move. We may be out in the boonies, but we made quite a racket. Authorities will have been alerted by now."

A voice broken slightly by static intruded upon them as if that last sentence was a cue. "I would imagine so."

Everyone in the room readied their weapons as the foreign voice spoke. It seemed to be coming from everywhere. They immediately began a search of the room to find the source. They didn't even freeze for a second at the sudden introduction the voice made.

"I suppose I should thank you for this. My employer will certainly learn a valuable lesson from this experience. The era of corporate rule is still in its stages of infancy, and one must set aside and distribute authority when it becomes necessary. War is not my employer's area of expertise you could say."

The commander motioned for Sebastian and his team to prepare for Terrance's extraction from the warehouse. They obeyed and lifted Terrance onto a collapsible stretcher that one of their comrades had attached to the side of his backpack. They carefully made their way through one of the holes made in the wall. Sebastian grimaced as Terrance groaned when they traversed over a pile of debris that forced them to angle the stretcher. There must have also been some internal wounds they couldn't possibly be aware of.

The voice continued its speech over the intercom that still hadn't been located, "There aren't many with the ability to bypass all that security and hack into a satellite. Some top-notch work there. Of course, there is also a matter of trust. A rather fickle thing, but desperate times call for it. I'm impressed. Takamura had some powerful friends indeed. And when it comes to hacking, the only one I can think of is Rick Moore."

Sebastian flinched as he heard the name. This man, who the hell was he? That was classified information. Nobody was supposed to know that Rick had secretly been working with Takamura up until his death. Emily suspected Malkin was behind everything that was going on. But this man had referred to someone as his "employer." Could this employer be Malkin? Authority, the era of corporate rule: they both referenced someone at the top of international power. But then, who was the man speaking?

Sebastian glanced to his left and saw that someone was already at work recording the voice from the intercom. He inserted an ear-bud and adjusted some of the settings on the device to get a clearer recording of the audio.

"It is clear that this failure is not due to my own lack of competence. Now perhaps the leash around my neck will be lengthened," the voice said. "You will find that my men will provide you with much more of a challenge."

Sebastian and the rest of the team exited the warehouse. Half the sun was obscured by the horizon and the air had cooled with a soft wind. It would have been considered a good ending if not for the voice that spoke with its mocking tone.

They lifted Terrance into an armored vehicle, this one different from the one they had arrived with, and followed soon after.

The voice from the warehouse spoke a few more words before the doors of the armored van closed.

"I hope we can all get acquainted soon."

Sebastian reached for the iron handle attached to the inside of the metal door of the van.

"Go to hell," he muttered.

He slammed it shut and the van was well down the road before they heard the sound of sirens carried to them on the intensifying wind.


Seattle, Washington

United States

May 26, 2020

Real World Time- 8:37 PM

"I hope that recent events have reaffirmed my argument," the man said. His words were followed by a stream of static as he entered an area with a low signal.

A man in the darkness listened, his patience waning. His fingers drummed on the wooden desk. The thumping of his nails on its surface echoed in the office. It only served to further grate on his nerves. It was said that darkness had the ability to deepen sound. He was starting to believe this was true.

"They have rescued their comrade with no casualties on their side. I would say that this is a complete and utter failure. Wouldn't you agree?" the man over the phone continued to ridicule him.

He gritted his teeth to force back his building anger. It wasn't just that the other man was a cocky bastard, but that he was right. They had known it was only a matter of time until Terrance Prest's location was discovered. A few more hours and he would have been dead. It had been clear that no means at their disposal would get the man to talk. They had waited too long. Now he had valuable information to provide to his comrades that could give them more solid footing.

Those people had hacked into one of his satellites, completely decimated some of what he believed were his best men, and had walked away unscathed. He had been played for a fool.

There was also Ray Andylon, one of those unforeseen SSS ranked Players to show up in the virtual world to throw a wrench in his plans. Ray and his allies were starting to become a major threat. His Masked Players were running short on time. If Ray and his monsters managed to reach Metatron and Pandora before they could initiate their attack it would turn into a huge mess.

The universal code was so close.

"I assume you understand the gravity of our situation," the voice said. His tone had taken a more serious turn as he grasped the severity of the silence.

The man in the dark lowered the phone from his ear and rested it on his leg as he weighed his options. He tightened his grip on the phone before he brought it back to his ear.

"You have full authority regarding ground operations."

The man in the darkness could practically feel the smile of the man on the other end of the phone. "Why thank you sir. You won't be disappointed."

He responded with no more than a grunt and settled the phone in the receiver. For a time he sat with his fingers laced and elbows planted on the desk. The walls of the office felt like they were closing on him. It should have been the other way around.

Suddenly, he was on his feet. His rolling chair fell backwards and collided with the bookshelf behind him. He drove his fist on a corner of the desk and shouted in frustration. When his anger reached the boiling point, he ran his arm across the surface of the desk and flung aside everything in its way. The desk lamp collided with the wall and its light bulb shattered into a hundred pieces. His laptop bounced off the floor and its battery dislodged permanently from the force of the fall. Scattered paper sliced through the air randomly and slowly submitted to the will of gravity all around him.

It was becoming a mess.