Command Central Headquarters
Corporate Wing
Time— 8:23:49
Two soldiers protected in a heavy white armor walked down the hallways with their Battle Rifles in position. They didn't speak to each other, as other soldiers would had only months ago. Their gaze didn't shift to each other either; both pairs were fixed on the prisoner in front of them.
Even their posture was perfectly aligned with each other. If anyone was around to watch this pair of soldiers, they would think that they were not human. No one could ever match the person next to them. But the two soldiers didn't even pay attention to each other. Their attention was on their directive and their directive was about the prisoner that they were transporting.
The prisoner in front of the two soldiers in white armor was in an old, orange prison jumpsuit. He had spent at least four months in a jail cell in his own detention center. Oh the irony, making something for defectors that he would be forced into.
The man was old, at least in his late fifties. His hair, that was originally coal black, had begun to grey in places over the years. The man didn't mind; he thought that it made him look experienced. But in the last few months, almost all of the black had disappeared, and even some of dark grey had turned white. This was from the stress that was overloading him.
The man also wore thick, old glasses. He couldn't see without them. If the man had tried to, he would have fallen flat on his face, giving him a severe nose bleed. The man was having trouble as it is due to the fact that the left lens was badly cracked. While in prison, he had demanded a new pair, but his requests were ignored by the guards.
Currently, the man in the prison garb was sleep deprived. The past few days, the prison guards had been instructed by their superior to keep him awake, at all cost. During the day, the air conditioning would be turned off, causing him to bake. And then, before nightfall, the guards would hose him down, and then turn the air conditioning on full power, making it unbearably bitter. Too cold to let the poor man sleep.
The guards stopped feeding him two days ago, and his stomach was in so much pain that he had to bend over. The prisoner was walking like a hunchback, making him too slow for the two soldiers' tastes. If the prisoner fell too far back, both guards would swiftly hit his back with the butts of their guns with brutish force.
And then one of them would drone, "Faster, prisoner. You are lucky to have this meeting at all."
It was the same response every single time. And not only were the words the same, but the fluctuations in both of their voices would be spot on. It was like it was on a tape recorder. The prisoner would get more nervous ever time they would say it.
And every time the guns met his flesh, the poor man would cry out in obvious pain. It was a miracle that he hadn't fallen down yet in pain or internal bleeding
But the prisoner was not nervous about where he was going. No, for decades, the prisoner had walked down these halls. As a free man, not a prisoner in his own adobe. He knew where he was being taken by force. The prisoner was going towards his own office of affairs that was just down the hall from where he currently was. Where he had built a legacy, and then watched it fall apart because of a few rouge soldiers.
And that was where someone stood in his place.
As he drew nearer, the prisoner grew angrier. This shouldn't have happened to him. His life's work was being pushed aside for someone else. Someone who was, by his opinion, far less competent than himself.
The guards continued to hit him as the prisoner was forced to open the heavy doors. Quickly, the prisoner fled into the dark, ominous room. The guards didn't follow the prisoner, but stood watch by the thick doors. And for that, the prisoner let out a sigh of relief.
The prisoner turned around, not knowing what to expect. Almost all of the lights were off. And the few that were on were so dim that the prisoner couldn't clearly make out who was in the room with him. The only thing that the prisoner could see was the shape of a tall, robust male.
"It was so kind of you to join me. I know I must be taking up important time from you." The unknown man said with a deep, rich voice that was in a semi-friendly tone, but the prisoner could see through his disguise. The man's intentions were nothing close to friendly. "Would you care for a drink? Champagne or Wine?"
The prisoner heard the clang of a couple ice cubes into ceremonial wine glasses. The prisoner's own wine glasses to be exact. He didn't answer the unknown man; he was too busy fussing over the fact that it was his own drinks that the man was offering.
"No preference? I prefer Brandy myself. My all time favorite is Cognac. I simply can't get enough of it." The man continued, as if to lighten the mood up.
The prisoner heard the sound of a liquid being poured into a glass.
"What I prefer is for you to get the hell out of my Project and return to where you slithered out of." The prisoner said in a subtle southern accent.
The unknown man made a tisking sound with his tongue. The prisoner felt a wineglass being forced into his hand. The Cognac spilled over his hand and onto one of the jumpsuit's legs. The prisoner resented the fact that it would be sticky when the substance would dry.
"Why are you so cruel to your host? It's not courteous at all. Now I'd advise you to drink so we can carry on with this meeting." The unknown man said.
The prisoner did the opposite of being courteous and turned his wineglass over. The contents spilled onto his old handmade Persian rug. It would leave a horrible spot, but this didn't disturb his thoughts. It wasn't his rug any more.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'll never drink anything that I hadn't opened myself. So I'm sorry to say that I won't accept anything from a bastard like you." The prisoner spewed.
"And I am sorry to hear that, Director Church. I would have expected so much better from you." The unknown man apologized.
"I would have expected less from a rotting pig's carcass, like yourself." The prisoner, Director Church, insulted. "Stop the act and cut to the chase."
"That's one thing that I've always admired about you. This natural desire to cut edges off and make deadlines on time." The unknown man chuckled slightly before continuing. "I, however, want to see my project completely ready before sending them out in the front line."
"Well lucky for you. Here's your chance to do just that." Director Church said as he sat down into one of his old chairs.
"Oh, I forgot my own manners. How could I not offer you a seat? But I'm glad that you were capable to help yourself." The stranger continued in his nice charade.
Faster than Director Church could respond, the stranger had moved from the opposite side of the Director's office to right next of him. Director Church hadn't noticed it, but the chair he was sitting in had been modified since his last time in his office. There were straps on the arms of the chair; actually they were heavy duty zip ties. The stranger zip tied Director Church's hands down. Director Church's first instincts were to force his way out. But in his tired state, he had no energy in his attacks.
"I suggest you make yourself comfortable. We may be here longer than you may want to be. It all depends on how well you cooperate with me." The unknown man informed.
"Or if I tell you what you want to know, Director Hines." Director Church spat.
"Exactly, now let's get down to business." Director Hines said as he leaned into Director Church. Director Church could smell the alcohol from the man's breath. "As you know, the UNSC has shut you down on several terms."
"Most of those terms that have me locked up are ones that you have committed yourself." Director Church seethed.
"I must confess that I have broken several regulations to achieve my objective. However, I had done a finer job concealing it from the UNSC than you had. But that is not the purpose of this conference. The purpose is to say that I had been granted full permission to employ my own project.
"My subjects are ready for war." Director Hines continued. "We had been preparing for years while you tested your little Freelancers as if for fun and games. However, you brought a bad lasting impression into our types of projects, and the UNSC will not let me ship out my operatives. That is, until I test them. You have already assembled a splendid testing track on this planet, so why let it go to waste? In less than forty eight hours, my operatives will individually depart from our Command. They will, with the help of our Support, find these simulation wars that you have made up and test their abilities.
"I cannot say what I expect from them. And that is the truth. They have been trained, programmed even, to kill on command without mercy. But if my operatives can gain the support and the approval from the UNSC within the month, they will be shipped to war without further notice.
"However, in the past few days, I had discovered that there was something missing from my operatives. Something that they need if they were needed to fight the aliens out there." Director Hines informed.
"And this is where I must come in." Director Church said, before spitting on Director Hines' shoe.
Director Hines pulled away from Director Church and disappeared into the shadows again. Director Hines made a racket in the darkness that spiked Director Church's curiosity, but mostly fear. Director Church had previous experience with Director Hines, and he had learned quickly that Director Hines was not the most legally bound businessman. When something went wrong, it was expected of Director Hines to do something sinister to cover it up or fix it.
Director Church had the feeling that something was about to happen to himself.
"I caught on that my squad leaders had trouble controlling smaller, less important Operatives. During intensive fire, the Operatives would disregard orders and act out of authority. The results from this were lower than unsatisfactory. I discovered that the squad leaders needed help with organization. They needed the help of an AI." Director Hines explained even further.
"And I can connect the dots from here." Director Church said through a fiendish smile. "UNSC wouldn't permit you an AI, much less several."
A hand appeared out of nowhere and smacked Director Church. Director Church felt a welt forming on his cheek. He hadn't noticed that Director Hines had returned from the other side of the room. But now that he was paying closer attention, Director Church could see that he was holding something.
"It was because of you that I cannot continue in my operation! They doubt that even one AI could be beneficial to them. It's because of your stupid mistake that my program will fail!" Director Hines shouted in Director Church's ear.
"I have to admit, that makes me feel proud of myself." Director Church spat some blood out of his mouth. It left a tainted taste.
"But you didn't cause too much difference. With you in prison here, and what is left of your Project Freelancer in shambles, I can deal some business under the tables." Director Hines whispered just before he hit Director Church again. This time, it was for pleasure. "Your little torture of the Alpha AI you were granted with is somewhat a curse and yet a gift for me."
"Are you saying you want my AIs?" Director Church said as his strength was vanishing.
"That is exactly what I am saying." Director Hines said as he literally came face to face with Director Church. "I need to know the whereabouts of your AIs."
"Tell me when you find them yourself." Director Church said through gritted teeth. "They were stolen, destroyed in an unauthorized EMP, and before we could retrieve them, stolen again. We had no idea where they had disappeared to."
"I highly doubt what you are saying is the truth. I must caution you that I will take an extreme course of action to achieve my goals." Director Hines stated. "I am not under murder or blackmail."
"Search me!" Director Church grumbled, defiant of the man.
"I intend to do just that. I will use every devious method to extract the information you are keeping from me. Starting with your daughter." Director Hines threatened.
Director Church managed a deranged chuckle. "I have no daughter. Who you are referring to was just some girl I found practically on the streets. She means nothing to me. Besides, she's been dead for over three years."
"Not according to my information. Your adopted daughter had been spotted at a Simulation Site only four days ago. She's alive, and still kicking the death into Simulation Soldiers." Director Hines informed.
"Well what do you know? I always thought she was a survivor. I made a good choice with adopting that little tyrant." Director Church said mostly to himself, and then he looked towards Director Hines' direction, "If you can kill her, I give you full permission to do just that."
Director Hines remained motionless as he took this in. His leverage was not working reasonably enough the way he anticipated it would have. Maybe a different route would be more successful. He played along, as if he had anticipated this event.
"I accept your blessing to kill your adopted daughter. For I have always been expected to clean up after your messes. I am used to it, really I am." Director Hines said as he returned to his new desk.
Director Hines opened one of the side drawers. In it, was a vial of a dark green liquid. Director Hines shook it to see if the contents of the vial were still adequate to use. After a quick second of agitation, small, crystal like structures appeared in front of his eyes. As the dark green liquid settled back down, the crystal structures disappeared.
Director Hines let out a sly smile. The substance was still in an acceptable condition.
Director Hines opened another of the desk's drawers, just below the other one. This one contained a syringe of some sort. Director Hines connected the vial to the syringe and approached a frustrated Director Church.
"I was afraid to use this form of torture. It could damage you permanently before I can extract the information I need." Director Hines threatened. "But you seem to leave this as the only option."
"I told you! I don't know where the hell the AI units are!" Director Church shouted at him.
"I'm afraid that I still don't believe you. Now hold still." Director Hines said as he stuck the syringe into one of Director Church's arms.
Instantly, Director Church's body tensed up as the substance entered his bloodstream. Director Church's breathing became static as he tried to fight the substance. It was pitiful, and Director Hines couldn't suppress his laugh down. When a third of the dark green liquid was circulating through Director Church, Director Hines removed the syringe from his body. Director set the syringe and vial down onto the desk before continuing his interrogation
"Now what you have in your system is Substance K-109. It's an experimental truth serum that my scientists had been developing for years. It hasn't been perfected yet; not even in the long shot. And I just gave you more than half the recommended amount. Consider it a little test run, like your simulated wars" Director Hines stated as he sat down into a chair by Director Church's.
"I can't move." Director Church said as his head continued to flinch for almost no reason.
"That was expected. Temporary paralysis from the neck down was designed in the molecular model. It's if the paralysis becomes permanent, then you should worry. But other than that, I should warn you, the longer that the drug is in use, the more painful it becomes." Director Hines said, sort of satisfied with his work. "So I would like to finish before you start screaming too loudly."
Director Church continued to flinch as Substance K-109 harmed him from the inside. In a few minutes, he was thrashing uncontrollably around as if he was having a seizure. The substance was working; he had no control over his body, but only pain and suffering.
"Now tell me, where are the AI units that you are hiding." Director Hines whispered. "I will find out eventually, it's just a matter of time."
Director Church let out a short cry of excruciating pain. But he continued to not tell Director Hines the whereabouts of the AI units. He honestly had no clue.
"You think of yourself as immortal. You think that only you have the keys to success. You think the whole universe revolves around you." Director Hines said, letting out some of his more personal conflicts during business. "You think of yourself as some kind of God, able to control everyone's lives, like a chess game."
Director Church let out another yelp, but this one was longer and had more ice to it. Director Hines felt a shiver run up his spine from the scream. It excited the new Director with cold pleasure.
"I'm here to tell you that your life was a mistake. You're nothing but a loser. Your only chance for redemption is to tell me where the AI units are!" Director Hines insulted.
Outside the office, the two soldiers in white armor that had escorted Director Church were keeping a close eye on the door. Neither of them spoke to each other. Neither of them wanted to. The only thing that both soldiers wanted was to please Director Hines or their squad leader. Nothing else mattered to them.
As the minutes dragged by, the Director's conversation rose in volume. It rose to such a volume that it became audible through the door. First, insults had been thrown around. But soon, small cries of pain had caught the soldiers' attentions. They were random and shallow.
That soon would change. Sometime later, the short cries turned into continuous screams of agony. The screams rose to levels that hurt both of the soldiers' ears. But the fact that their ears were throbbing didn't seem important to them.
Suddenly, the door to the Director's office opened and the screams increased in their volume and clarity. Down the hall, the people who worked at Command and weren't thoughtless soldiers peeked out of their doors to see what was wrong. But when they could make out the two white armored soldiers, they would nod their heads, understanding everything.
Director Hines walked out of his newly acquired office and turned to face the nearest soldier in white. He leaned towards his helmet as if to whisper instructions.
"Give me a half an hour longer with him. The effects of the drug won't wear off for another hour though. When I am done, just drag him to his cell. Use of violence is permitted, but only if needed." Director Hines ordered.
"Understood." The soldier in white armor stated, like a computer.
"And I would like to schedule two more meetings with him. A week from now and a week from then. Same time, same place." Director Hines instructed. "After that, you can kill him in any way that seems appropriate."
"Understood." The soldier in white armor stated again. It was the same thing he said before; exactly the same.
Director Hines nodded and headed back inside his office where a howling Director Church was painfully awaiting his return.