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Some posh place in Atlas

York

Once, again, York groaned as he tried to relieve the tight collar around his throat. Next to him, his fellow agents of Freelancer, Maine, North, South, Utah and Georgia, who had made the trip to Atlas, sat at the long table along with the other few Freelancers that had been able to make it out to tonight's dinner party: Florida, Alabama, and, most surprising of all, Connecticut.

He spotted her as a fast blur that soon embraced him in a hug. "York, you're here?" She said joyfully.

"Connie, how have you been?" York began. "I'm so sorry for all we did to you."

"It's okay, something malfunctioned in my armor, sent me here." She smiled. "Better than death, I guess."

York chuckled. "I'm just sad we didn't listen to you."

"Well, you all were convinced you were doing the right thing. Heck, I thought I was too until I got the data." Connie looked down.

North patted York on the shoulder as he stepped to the pair of Freelancers. "It doesn't end well dwelling on the past. Come on, let's enjoy the party."

Connecticut gave a salute with a giggle. "Yes sir, Mr. Guru!"

York began a mental conversation with the Ai in his head as Connie walked down to her spot at the table.

C.T. Seems really relaxed here, D. York remarked as he took his seat next to Winter, who looped her hand into his.

Indeed, it seems being freed from Project Freelancers has taken a large metaphorical load off her shoulders. Delta said in response as York raised a glass of water to his lips. Or it could be because of the engagement ring currently on her finger.

York did a double-take and almost choked on his water, earning him a strange look from Winter, then he looked to see the ring Delta had referred to, then the man that sat next to her, then he scanned the man's face with his good eye.

Who is he, D?

Files identify him as the Insurrection leader, though this is based off of Freelancer files. I know, however, that he and CT worked together when she turned her back on the Project and attempted to expose the Director.

I wonder how he got here… York thought as he sat back.

From beside him, Winter stood, dressed in a sapphire dress that hugged her body and a pair of sparkling diamond earrings adorning her, her hair tied up into a ladder-braided bun for the evening. She began walking to other tables and speaking with other military personnel and their dates. Tonight was a mandatory awards and recognition ceremony, as well as a combat demonstration towards the end.

Soon a white haired, mustached man was walking back with her, and she had a look of discomfort and worry as they marched towards York's table.

The Freelancer stood as they approached, and he was glad he hadn't under-dressed. He was clad in a white dress shirt and black vest with slacks trailing down to his black dress shoes. On the back of the chair behind him was a new Black trench coat the Winter had bought for him for these occasions. Firestorm's Dawn hung from his belt, as guests were allowed to bring their weapons, further allowing those 'traditional' weapons to be shown off. He'd left his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his hair was combed neatly.

"Father, this is Cole Grey, he now works in Vale as a Huntsman." Winter said to the man. "York, this is my father, President Schnee."

York extended a gloved hand, and the man took it, though glaring at the Freelancer. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

"You served in the military." He said. "That wound is the result of fragmentation, and you have numerous scars and an attitude that practically screams soldier. Which army and war did you serve in?"

"I was Spec Ops." York answered.

"With whom?"

York cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, that's classified."

"Surely you're joking." The man said, though his face didn't crack.

"Sir, if I told you any version or the complete truth, you certainly wouldn't believe me."

"And how on earth did you end up 'dating' my daughter?" His face seemed to go even colder, which York had thought impossible.

"I don't know if I should be the one to tell you that, sir." York said hesitantly.

"Father, I think it's time for you to return to your seat." Winter said pointedly. "I'll inform you as to how we met later."

Without another word, President Schnee gave a cold glare followed by an even colder back as he walked away.

Maine, who was clad in a tux and looked like something off of hitman, growled. "Well, that was awkward." Beside him, North chuckled.

Soon, Winter returned and the ceremony began.

And so began the long, boring moments of his life that now brings us to the present, where York was leaning on the arm of his chair and fighting off sleep. Winter was extremely irritated, pushing him awake every minute or so.

Finally, when there was a pause, York excused himself and went outside for a fresh breath of air. He stepped out of the hall and then looked to a window that led out to a balcony. He stepped into the frigid air, suddenly wide awake, and took a deep breath.

York, I am extremely 'bored', I think I shall begin hacking the camera system of the surrounding area and begin profiling and detecting weaknesses.

Have fun, buddy, luck you have something to do. York said quietly as he stepped back inside. He sat once more while a power point presentation was on screen, showing clips of some of the notable teams of the Atlas military against Grimm.

After a few minutes, Delta spoke once more in his head. Agent York, I have discovered multiple bogies taking position in multiple positions around the hall, including two snipers positioned at building across from our position. I believe an assassination is about to take place.

York stood straight up. Tell the other AI, make sure the others know. Likely targets are the Schnees and Ironwood, who else? Mark them.

Marking. Done. Warning, Snipers are preparing to fire and the others have broken through initial security. Snipers are about to fire.

York cursed as Maine suddenly vaulted over the table, tackling President Schnee to the ground as the first sniper shot, the round going through a window and impacting with the table.

Next, York tackled Winter as the second round came through.

"You know, there's usually a little more foreplay when do this." Winter joked.

"Sorry, I thought you might like a go a sudden and rough." York said as he got to his feet, drawing his sword and shifting it into sniper form before lining a shot to one of the snipers. North pulled a black box that extended into a shield then rolled to defend Ironwood while everyone was pulling their scrolls from their pockets, summoning their ways to get their weapons here or call personal bodyguards.

York took Winter's hand and escorted her out to a balcony as she called her own locker, which also held York's backpack armor. I landed on the balcony while York made sure to scan for more snipers, while Delta was informing him of the movements of the assassin team. York shrugged on his backpack and activated it, his armor sliding onto his body in a few seconds as well as depositing his BR. He slid it onto his back, then slid Firestorm's Dawn place into place at his side.

York, the foot soldiers are about to enter the hall.

I'm on it, D. York informed as he pulled two SMGs from the locker and stepped back into the hall while Winter began arming herself.

"Freelancers, we've got company outside." York shouted as the other members of the Project finished donning their armor and arming themselves.

Maine stepped up, his weapon glinting in the moonlight. "I suggest we give them a warm welcome."

"Excuse me." General Ironwood interrupted, stepping up to York. "Who put you in charge?"

"With all due respect, sir." North cut in, wielding his two sniper rifles. "He's more experienced at leading the Freelancers."

York smirked and then stepped forward, kicking the main door open to reveal men clad in White Fang gear approaching them. Surprised, they opened fire while York charged, other Freelancers behind him, and firing his weapons in burst from each hand.

There were only about twelve assassins, so it was quick work, but the Freelancers ensured the guest's safety by securing the building, then making sure no other snipers were outside before sending them all home until only Winter, her father, and Ironwood, among a few others, remained.

"Who are you?" President Schnee asked.

"Why, Mr. Schnee, I thought you'd remember me." York took off his helmet to reveal his face. "Guess it's not so classified anymore."

0oooooooooooooooooooooo0

York now sat on a military bullhead with all of the Freelancers from the party, all locked and loaded and armored up. York had one hand up above him gripping the hand bar as they flew, the other cradling his helmet with his waist, his exposed head affected by the wind from the open doors.

With a hiss, the doors closed and the red lights came on. Connecticut dropped a device onto the floor of the bullhead. The two AI, Delta and Theta, popped into view.

"Agents, we have tracked the wanna-be assassins to an abandoned ski resort north of Atlas. General Ironwood has dispatched us to take care of the problem while he and Winter travel with the Atlas academy students to Beacon for the Vytal Festival." Delta informed us. "This is a covert operation, which is why you will not be given reinforcements or any outside aid."

"What do we have on the location?"

"After the party, we immediately tracked them to this ski resort." Theta said semi-confidently. "The power comes from an outside source, a classic fire-Dust compound up two miles from the mountain."

"This is where we are depositing the first team." Delta said. "It is comprised of Connecticut and Alabama. Team two is being dropped a half-mile from the resort. Be warned, there is a blizzard incoming, so you will need to be quick. We are also to find the leader of this group and see if we can get any information."

"North will be covering the house from a sniper's nest, York is on breaking in, and Maine and South will be our first wave. Agent Florida will be making sure none escape out the back."

"What are our orders about survivors?" Florida asked.

Delta flickered, then looked at the man. "We are only required to keep the leader for questioning, the rest are free game."

Maine growled, then cracked his knuckles. North nodded, then made sure his sniper rifle was ready.

The lights on the bullhead flickered to red, and the pilot's voice, male and with a southern accent, spoke over the PA system. "Alri', boys, we're 'bout two minutes from the first drop, make sure our people are ready!" He drawled.

CT and Alabama, a Freelancer mainly based for solo-missions with his partner, Maryland, and dressed in black with white trim ODST armor and armed with a Remnantified gravity hammer, prepped themselves, then the bullhead slowed, the doors opening to let more cold air into the interior of the bullhead. Connie and Alabama leaped out of the bullhead, landing in the shallow snow. The bullhead began to ascend again and York watched them as they hustled toward their objective.

"OK, mates, next stop, abandoned ski resort." The pilot told them as the doors closed. York sighed, then looked to Maine, who simply nodded.

"It's just like old times." North said lightly.

"It's missing a few people." South said. "Especially our fearless teal leader."

York winced at her memory, wondering what had happened to her. Did she die and come here, or just die? If not, then where was she now?

0oooooooooooooooooooo0

Chorus

A cyan-armored soldier had just finished pushing a crate into place, then sighed as she sat on top of it, taking off her helmet and revealing her flaming red hair. She massaged her temples.

"That should be it." Church popped into existence next to her. "Now we've got a base, when do we start looking for alien tech?"

"I think we can start tomorrow, Epsilon. How about you log off for the rest of the evening? I need some time." She told the AI.

Epsilon-Church nodded. "Okay. See you in the morning, I guess."

Carolina closed her eyes for a second, then pulled a lighter with a flaming 'e' on it. She flicked it open, then ignited it, watching the flame as it danced in front of her. A deep regret plagued her, and she missed him, if only for a moment.

"York."

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Atlas

York

"Ok, mates, doors are opening. Happy hunting!" The pilot drawled once more, and the doors hissed open, and we could barely see floodlights in the distance. With a determined growl, I leaped out of the bullhead, rolling into the snow.

Behind me, more charging bolts were pulled back or shotguns pumped as I drew my sword and shifted it into sniper mode.

"Radio check." North said lightly.

"York, all clear."

"South, loud and clear."

"Flowers, I hear you North."

"I can hear." Maine said.

York nodded as he swept the area. "Anyone picking anything up on thermals?"

"No life signs in the area, let's move." South said, then they moved as a body. Moving in between trees and halting while others advanced.

Soon, North stopped to climb a tree to gain a good sniper's view. The others continued until they came into sight of the resort. Floodlights covered the area, and cast shadows into the trees. York spotted the door, and saw the two guards that had just turned the corner.

The resort acceded up the mountain like a staircase, usually having a few floors to each elevated section, though most of it was connected. It was made of combinations of brick and wood, with black roof tiling.

"Alright, Alpha-squad. We wait for bravo to turn off the lights, then we head inside. North, you all set?" York asked.

"I've got eyes on all of you and on four guards, night-vision and thermal ready." North responded.

"Let's just hope that the lights go out-" Just as South started, the lights suddenly switched off. "Soon."

York sighted on a confused patrol and fired at the men, dropping two while North also shot, silencers masking their weapons.

"Move up, I've got the place covered." North told them, and York vaulted over the rock he had hidden behind and switched to his BR55, sliding Firestorm's Dawn back.

He rushed to a side door, Florida going around the side of the resort to lock down the area, two Needlers in hand, crafted himself when he arrived in Remnant. York bent, checked to see if the door was locked. Finding that it was, he knelt and drew his lock-picking gear.

"Why didn't we just go through the front door?" South asked cynically.

"Because there would have been almost no cover." Maine.

"He's right. The entrances to buildings are usually left open, especially to resorts and hotels." York said. "And no one expects a locked door to open."

Delta spoke into the radio. "Also, there is a high probability that more of the mercenaries will be in the upstairs area, making sure all is clear and to see if they can get the power on."

"Too bad we shut off the power, you could access any inside cameras and see how many are in there." South stated.

York gave a soft 'ah-ha', then his hands twisted to the side. "Get ready to breach."

Maine and South both readied their weapons, and York threw the door open, revealing the four men inside. Maine rushed forward and killed two with a slice of his blade, one man's gun firing at the brute but the bullets reflecting harmlessly by the shields. With a roar, Maine grabbed the swordsman, who had drawn his blade, and threw him into the gunslinger. Both men were knocked to the ground, then dispatched by South, whose shotgun had shifted into a scimitar.

"Main entrance is secure. How long before power comes back on?" York questioned.

"We have three minutes. If you can locate the leader before it does, then we get out ASAP. Otherwise, Theta and I will jump to the camera system and see if we can find him."

York turned as he heard footsteps on the floor above. They were headed towards the staircase. He spotted the lights and lifted his Battle Rifle.

"I heard shots."

"I think it's Atlas, coming back to get to get us for the botched job."

York rushed to where he couldn't be spotted from the top of the staircase, then looked to the two other Freelancers. Maine was waiting, but looked to York, nodding to say he should take them out.

Lifting his battle rifle, York fired as soon as their stomachs were in range, the two men dropping like sacks of potatoes down the stairs.

"Alright, lights will be on any minute now. Should we split up and find the leader?" South suggested.

York shrugged. "We'd cover more ground, but strength in numbers, and all that."

Maine growled and brandished his weapon. "Even separated, we have plenty."

York chuckled. "Amen, Maine. Alright, Spread out, let's get this guy."