Carolina let out a soft sigh, and rubbed her palm across her forehead. Weariness seemed set in her bones, temporarily extinguishing the fire that burned inside her, demanding the Director's death. She had let herself be controlled by that fire for so long, that now – when she was so, so close to her goal – she was left unsure if that fire would continue to burn long enough for her to do the deed.
And those idiots weren't helping.
"That is the most fucked-up plan ever. Of all time," Wash snapped.
South bared her teeth. "Oh yeah? And I suppose you have a better one!"
"Well no, maybe I don't. But mine would sure as hell be a lot better than 'let's just storm the fucking place!'"
She threw up her hands. "At least I have a plan!"
"One that will get us all killed!" Wash retorted, his fists clenched.
"Maybe that's the point." South smirked.
"You bitch." Wash moved towards her, but Carolina stepped in between them and placed her hands on their chests.
"Stop it! God, just give it a rest. We don't even know where we're going yet."
"Sure we do," South answered, her gaze locked on Wash's. "Wherever the Director is."
Wash snorted. "Oh yeah? Then, please, lead the way." He stepped back and gestured openly with his hands. South tossed her head.
"Fine," she growled. "Epsilon!"
"Crap…" the AI sighed, and appeared on Carolina's right shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Where's the Director?"
"He's-"
"See? We're set," South grinned, interrupting. "Let's go."
"No," Carolina said suddenly. "Wash is right; we can't just storm in there and expect a clear shot. We need to plan – we need pictures, maps, blueprints, everything." Wash smirked.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked, straightening. South rolled her eyes and muttered darkly under her breath.
"Get the Blues," Carolina ordered. She turned to look at Church, who looked back at her. "Can you help us plan?"
Church rolled his eyes. "No, I can't. I mean, I'm not a fucking computer or anything."
She smiled. "Okay, well get to work. Is there an actual computer here we can use?"
Church frowned, but nodded. "Yeah. I can feel it… something in Red base. Might be a computer; I can use it, whatever it is."
Carolina turned back to South, who stood watching. "Can you get the Reds?" she asked.
"Why?" she asked. South shrugged; "it's not like we need them. Dead weight. They can't even shoot straight."
Carolina narrowed her eyes. "We need them. They are good soldiers, for all that."
South laughed mockingly. "Right. Good for decoys, you mean. Good for taking hits for us."
Wash shouldered past Carolina, and set his face right in front of South's. "They are not decoys!" he growled.
South snickered. "Whatever you need to believe."
"Shut up!" Wash yelled suddenly, angry. He leapt forward, and sent a fist into her stomach.
South coughed, and doubled over automatically. Wash laughed cruelly and brought his hands down on the back of her neck; she was thrown to the grass-covered ground. He lashed out, lightning fast, with his foot – but South was faster.
She grabbed his leg and yanked, pulling him harshly down to the ground.
"Asshole!" she snarled, and punched him in the face. He yelped, but responded with a swift jab to her ribs. South rolled away, and Wash lurched after her. He shoved his boot into her face – there was an ugly crunch, and South's nose began to bleed again.
She snorted briefly, and wiped at her face with the back of her hand. It came away streaked with blood.
Wash drew back his fist, prepared to strike again. South turned her head and spat to the side. Spittle flew from her mouth, mixed with blood, and she looked back just in time to dodge the punch. She shot to her feet, and kicked him in the groin. Wash groaned in pain, unable to get up again.
South smiled triumphantly, and drew back her fist. It shot forward – and Carolina caught it.
"Stop it," she growled menacingly. She shoved, and South stumbled back a few feet. She turned, and offered a hand to Wash. "Get up, and-"
BAM!
"Ow! You bitch!" Carolina snarled, and spun around to see South with her fist drawn back for a second punch.
Carolina spun out of the way, and faced South. The purple Freelancer grinned, blood streaming from her nose and dripping off of her chin.
They both leapt forward at the same time. Carolina ducked under South's fist, and grabbed it from behind. She wrenched it backwards, and pulled her arm behind her back. Before she could retaliate, Carolina did the same with her other arm, twisting them harshly.
"Are you done yet, South?" she growled. When there was no reply, Carolina yanked her arms further – almost ripping them out of their sockets.
South hissed, but did not admit defeat. Carolina sighed – it wasn't likely that she would respond, anyway – and let go. South tumbled to the ground with a faint cry, drawing her arms to her chest protectively. She glared at Carolina, baring her teeth slightly. This wasn't over.
"Go," Carolina snarled. She turned away and stalked off, her shoulders tight, to the Red base. Inside her mind, Church whistled.
That was pretty badass fighting, Carolina.
I aim to please, she thought sarcastically.
Church snorted, amused.
"Come with me."
Sarge looked at her slowly, his eyes raking up and down the blue armour that covered her frame. "I don't think so," he said shortly, and turned back to his teammates.
South resisted the urge to snap at him, and instead pulled off her helmet. Blood still ran from her nose to her chin, making her look half-crazed. "I said, come with me."
The pink one – South hadn't bothered to remember his name – spoke up tentatively.
"Do we come too?" he asked, indicating himself and the purple medic.
"I don't care," South answered.
The orange one – his name was Grif, she recalled – turned to glance at her. His eyes widened when he took in her face – the blood, the brutal bruising across her nose and below her eyes, the split lip. He nudged his friend, Simmons.
"I think we should do what she says," he half-whispered. South smirked, and drew back her lips to reveal bloodied teeth.
"Yeah – let's go guys!"
Donut bounced forward. He paused to look into her face. "You know, I could fix that with make-up!" he told her brightly. "A dab of concealer, a little blush-"
"No."
"Oh," he said, disheartened by her immediate refusal. "Are you sure? I mean, I'm sure that you need to keep up your tough 'I'm-a-badass-Freelancer-who-hates-makeup' thing and all, but it couldn't hurt-"
South spun on her heel, and cracked him across the face. He lurched back, his perfectly manicured hand flying to his cheek. "Ow," he whimpered.
South snarled. She hated this guy already – he reminded her too much of her mother. Always asking her to hide behind something – makeup, a pretty dress, good-manners, her brother-
She broke off that thought before it could continue. Resentment burned in her chest, and she spent it on a withering glare on the soldier in front of her. He still clutched at his cheek, and the purple medic was prodding it with soft fingers.
"Are you coming?" she asked, her tone threatening. All five soldiers jumped, and nodded quickly.
"Yeah – let's go!"
With that, they hurried off. South gritted her teeth, and followed. She would have welcomed a little more disrespect – it would have been a good excuse to break that pink one's neck.
Wash slowly made his way to the Blue base, climbing up the ramp to find Tucker and Caboose. His mind was chewing over the fight with South – analyzing the whole thing. He had been right; he'd lose any match against South if he tried it now. He'd just lost his temper, the thought of Carolina and South using his teammates as human shields an image that seemed all too likely.
"Caboose?" he called, ascending the base. "Tucker?"
"Yeah?" came the faint reply. "Just a sec, Agent Washingtub!"
Wash relaxed against the railing, waiting for the two Blues to hurry up and join him. He looked over his shoulder, searching. In a moment, he found her talking to the Reds. He watched as they attempted to ignore her, but Donut soon stepped forward and exchanged words with the purple Freelancer. A heartbeat later, South lashed out and cracked him across the jaw with the palm of her hand.
Wash shook his head. He should probably warn the Reds not to antagonize South too much – she was a little too trigger-happy, especially around himself. Besides, as they had just seen, she took any chance to strike out at those around her.
"And, that's it!" Caboose told Tucker as they appeared through the base doors. "The tour would be longer, but we don't have a basement."
"Hey Wash." Tucker ignored Caboose and strode forward. "What are you doing here?"
"Umm… why wouldn't I be here?"
"Oh. I dunno, you just don't really hang with us anymore. You're with Carolina all the time."
"Oh," Wash said. "No, we were just discussing our next steps. We've found the Director," he explained.
"So, what are you doing here?" Tucker asked. "Why aren't you all storming off after him?"
"We need to plan. Come on, Carolina's going to debrief you all on the mission objectives, and hopefully get a map of the facility we're heading to."
"Where are we going?" Caboose asked suddenly. Wash sighed.
"Red base, Caboose," he answered patiently.
"Why? It's on the other side of the canyon…"
"Because there's cookies and milk," Tucker told him quickly. Caboose's eyes lit up and he offered no further complaint as Wash led the way.
Wash walked into the center of the room slowly, turning occasionally to glance at the machines lining the walls. Behind him, Tucker was bickering with the Reds.
"Let me get this straight: you guys built a room capable of creating realistic, holographic simulations but you couldn't work out how to walk across the canyon to capture our flag?"
"Actually, Lopez built it," Grif admitted.
Tucker snorted. "Okay, now that I can believe."
And, if you recall," Simmons added smugly, "we did manage to capture your flag. So, you know, suck it Blues!"
"Oh yeah?" Caboose interrupted. "Well, our team has the most kills!"
Sarge laughed. "Team kills don't count, Blue-tard!"
"You don't make the rules!" Caboose retorted.
"Technically," Wash couldn't help adding, "Project Freelancer makes the rules. And I say that Blue Team can add my kill count to theirs."
"Lame," Grif muttered, annoyed.
"Listen up," Carolina ordered suddenly. They all glanced to the front, except for South who leant back against the wall and examined her newly-reclaimed pistol. "We've got big news."
Caboose gasped in excitement. "You and Wash are taking your relationship to the next level!" he exclaimed. In the corner, South clapped a hand over her mouth quickly, but not fast enough to capture her scornful laugh. Wash scowled, and turned to glare at her.
"No." Church reappeared, and walked forward slowly. As he advanced, his form grew until he was level with Carolina. "We found the Director."
"Yeah, we know," Tucker interrupted. "Wash told us."
"And the Blue told us too," Sarge added, gesturing at South. Church huffed, annoyed at having his glory moment ruined. He turned around to face the wall, and images sprang up almost immediately.
"He's holed up in one of his offsite storage facilities," Church began. Wash looked up, studying the ivy-covered walls, the cobwebbed staircases and raised his eyebrow. "Similar to the ones we've seen before."
Carolina caught Wash's disbelieving stare and interrupted quickly.
"We have no idea what kind of modifications the Director might have made to the compound over the years," she said warningly.
"Or, if he has any kind of security within them," Church added.
"Essentially, we need to be ready for anything," Carolina told them. "So, let's go over the plan-"
"What plan?" Tucker asked quickly.
"The plan to take down the Director!" Church snapped impatiently.
"Uh, I thought the plan was to find the Director," Grif interrupted.
"Yeah, and now we found him! Good job everyone; way to hustle out there."
"The plan has changed," Carolina growled.
"So then, what exactly is the plan?" Wash asked, trying to redirect the conversation. Carolina threw him a grateful glance, and continued.
"Infiltrate the facility, and neutralize all hostiles."
"Right…" Grif agreed sarcastically. "What's our plan?" he asked, gesturing at himself, the Reds, and the Blues.
"That is your plan," Carolina told him coldly. "I'm counting on all of you." She glanced at South, who remained still and impassive.
"You said we were the worst soldiers you've ever met!" Grif argued, indignant. "And, you were right! You're very perceptive."
"Look," Carolina began angrily. "I just need enough time to get to the Director."
"So then we're just the distraction?" Wash interrupted, stepping forward.
South cleared her throat delicately, and all eyes snapped to her. "Decoys, actually," she told them smugly. Wash's teeth grinded angrily.
"No, Wash; you're on lock duty. I need you with me," Carolina told him, ignoring South.
"Uh… we have to fight all the bad guys… by ourselves?" Caboose squeaked.
South coughed; "Decoys."
Tucker laughed, and shook his head in disbelief. "Fuck that," he said.
"Yeah, Carolina – maybe I should stick with these guys-"
'Leave personnel decisions to me, Agent Washington," Carolina said coldly.
"Look, will you guys quit complaining, and do something for once?" Church interrupted, annoyed.
Sarge stepped forward. "Look son, are you forgetting that we saved your sorry ass from the military?"
"Yeah!" Simmons agreed. "We almost died trying to find you."
"Oh, boo-hoo," Church snapped sarcastically. "Why don't you come back on your second or third life, and then we can compare notes."
"Wow," Grif said, disbelieving. "Fuck off, Blue." He turned, and began to walk off.
"Where do you think you're going?" Carolina called after him angrily.
Grif paused, and glanced over his shoulder. "I'm going home," he said tiredly.
"Oh, that's great Grif!"" Church yelled. "You know, we can always count on you to duck out when there's work to do!"
"Well, you can count me out too." The AI turned in disbelief, to face Sarge.
"What?" Carolina snarled.
"Don't get me wrong," Sarge began, "breaking into a military base on a rescue mission can be a lot of fun." He turned and faced South. "But I'm not getting turned into Swiss cheese as a decoy-" he turned back to Carolina "so that you two can finish some personal vendetta!" Sarge sighed. "This ain't our fight," he finished tiredly.
"Took the words right out of my mouth, Sir," Simmons agreed.
"Both of you – be quiet!" Carolina snarled. She strode forward angrily.
"Dude, this is bullshit," Tucker complained.
'Tucker!" Church snapped.
"Be quiet!" Carolina snarled, spinning to face him. "That's an order!"
"Well, guess what psycho!" Tucker yelled back. "I don't take orders from you anymore!"
"Well, what about now?" Carolina lifted her gun easily, aiming at Tucker's helmet.
Wash stopped breathing for a moment – and then his movements were smooth, automatic. He was done before he'd even realized he was moving.
"Don't do that," he growled. Carolina moved slowly, and looked at the pistol that was now aimed between her eyes.
"Wash, what are you doing?" she hissed.
"Protecting my friends!" he answered. He flicked the safety off; the sound echoed hauntingly in the large room and Carolina stiffened.
Suddenly, from the corner, a dangerous voice spoke. "Do what he says, Carolina." South smirked. "Wash has a history of shooting his teammates."
They both ignored her, and the smirk dropped. "Lower your weapon," Wash ordered.
"Wrong weapon, Wash," South interrupted. She laughed, and her voice dropped to a whisper even though they all could still hear her. "Pistols never work for that kind of thing."
Carolina slowly pointed her gun at the floor. "You're siding with them?" she said slowly, disbelieving.
"Wash, I don't understand!" Church cried out in frustration. "We found the Director – we can make him pay! This is what you wanted!"
Wash still held the pistol ready, but he turned to face the AI. "All I want is for you to leave," he said coldly.
Wash was staring at Epsilon – his old AI. He didn't see her raise the gun in anger. He didn't see her as she took a step back to see through the scopes.
But someone else did. And that someone took a few, small steps and leapt through the air. That someone tackled Carolina to the ground, knocking her gun away and standing above her, shaking in fury.
"You bitch," South snarled. Wash stared, wide-eyed, as she leant down and picked up a shocked Carolina by her throat. She spun wildly, and threw her into a wall. South stopped, breathing hard, and turned to face Wash even though her words were meant for the aquamarine Freelancer behind her. "He's my kill."
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about the delay – you can blame my German teacher. I've been absolutely loaded with homework for the past week, so that's why I haven't updated this. I hope I've made up for it with an extra-long chapter.
On a happier note, the delay means that my next update will be more on time. Does that make sense? Maybe not, but it does to me. Hope you guys enjoyed the fight scenes – I think I'm getting better. Let me know what you thought of them.
Anyway, see you guys next time!