(A/N) Hey guys, time for Chapter One Hundred, surprisingly following our one-hundredth chapter! Left you all with a bit of a cliff-hanger last time, didn't we? Well Warg is going to take is off from there, as Georgia pursues Cal and Harper, as we come within sight of the finish line. As we draw even closer to the end. Once again, I think it's time to congratulate Warg on another fantastic chapter, and I feel like I have to reiterate how much I love Georgia! The next chapter will be one of my own, from Ark's point of view, and after that I think there's just three more left. Wow...we're going to have wrapped this up in a week and a half! Also, would just like to point out that with this chapter we pass out 300,000 words. Now that, in my opinion, is a feat in itself!

Enjoy!


Chapter One Hundred - Fire on the Mountain (Run Boys, Run)

Agent Georgia

Written by WargishBoromirFan


"Hell, there ain't no rules around here - we are tryin' to accomplish somep'n." - Thomas Alva Edison

"Nay, we are but men. Rock!" -Tenacious D, "Tribute"


(As a semi-final disclaimer: Collaboration in the brainpan, makin' no dough. Granny, does your Warg own? No, child, no! - Warg)


"CAL!" Massa didn't give any warning before activating her armour enhancement. The Freelancers' helmets were built to offer protection from the sonic wave, but Georgia probably would have flinched from it at normal volume simply from her tone. Certainly, some of the Innies dropped quick enough, but not nearly as many as he would have liked. Harper still stood before the oncoming California earthquake, barely acknowledging his charge with anything other than a light smirk curving those apparently unprotected lips.

Georgia had no trouble believing that some of the Innies' helmets had been upgraded to the point of being able to walk away from a force that would melt most people's ears, but Harper was waltzing out into a madhouse without a helmet on. There was something off about that man, and it wasn't just his ability to get a rise out of Cal. Wasn't just that right arm, either, that rose a little too fast and steady for human flesh.

Now was hardly the opportunity to figure out just how he did it, as Georgia was still a little busy with the other surviving Innies that had managed to cut him, Florida, and Maine from the rest of the fire team. So far the big man had managed to keep the crowd back to shooting range, but it was hard to use the grenades or rockets to pick the horde off of him when Maine was mixing it up in the middle of about twenty-some-odd titanium-armoured brawlers at any given moment. Florida switched between his automatic to cover their white-clad wall and the underslung grenade launcher to try to keep any more from coming fairly quickly, while Georgia was limited to his AR with Maine in the middle of the potential blast radius of the rocket launcher, should he even have time to switch weapons. Constant stream of fire was definitely the name of the game, even with Harper distracting at least some of the horde.

At least Georgia could see the rest of his fellow Freelancers weaving in and out of the fight. Hard to keep track of everyone, but there was a flash of white armour with the glint of a sniper scope, and Arkansas blazed his way after California, trying to corral the revealed lieutenant and finish him here and now. There was a ripple in the air, and Virginia led her fragment of the team towards Maine, offering him at least a little more breathing space to fight, but further dampening Georgia's enthusiasm for spray and pray tactics.

"Go on!" Florida waved him after Ark and Cal. "We got it here; who knows what Harper's got on him." Trust Florida alone to catch a quick whip of the helmet, the momentary hesitation in the gunfire that wasn't from reaching for another grenade, even in the chaos of pitched battle, every Freelancer for himself.

"Stay safe!" Georgia called back, hurrying to catch up with California before he cut the Innie leader to pieces. While clearing out this rat's nest was certainly useful in the long run, capturing the upper echelons of the Insurrection alive for questioning had been their primary objective of the day, and Cal looked like he might just let that slip his mind as he cut deeply through the throat of the first soldier to attempt to stand between him and Harper.

Ark was going to catch up with them, had to catch up with them, there was no way a tactician as good as the scout-helmeted Freelancer was going down to some thug spraying wildly into his fellow Innies, not when Georgia was still on his feet, ducking a punch here and answering a bullet there and sending a frag into a gunner's nest that way before knocking the butt of his rifle into another Innie and he didn't even have time to pick a next target, just hit the next guy to stand in his way and try to hold his feet. Ark'd get to California and Harper soon; Georgia just had to offer the distraction.

Ark would be able to keep Cal on task. Sure, Arkansas hated the Innies just as much and would shed no tears for failing this objective, but Ark was an immaculate professional and knew how to keep his emotions from screwing up the job, even when the job was capturing an Insurrectionist lieutenant alive when they'd just as soon deliver his slightly charred and fully tarred head to the UNSC High Command, and his staked heart to the Director. It was easier to get information out of Harper when they left the other things in there, as Georgia was sure Ark would be reminding himself. Well, it wouldn't kill their chances at information-gathering if Harper lost a little blood here today, maybe that other flesh arm… But only to throw Cal a bone.

Harper himself was not making the "capture alive" bit any easier. As the two leading Freelancers fought their way through his cohorts, Harper himself was proving a master of run and gun tactics; always keeping just beyond arm's length with another Innie bastard standing between him and a clear shot. Ark and Cal didn't close in much more before Georgia himself was in shooting range, and even then all three were heavily distracted by the horde of bodyguards in the way. As soon as Georgia was certain they'd cornered Harper and fought through to a decent hit, there came someone up from the rear, barely picked off of his back in time via a lucky shot from Ark or one of the other Freelancer agents struggling up behind them.

And then Harper turned tail with an out-of-place chuckle, heading into the base.

Georgia pelted after California, deep into the confines of the twisting metal warren. Harper's laughter reflected back to the Freelancers pursuing him, but the bunker made it echo from every corridor and side passage at once.

"This way!" Cal, at least, seemed more certain. Georgia caught Ark coming up beside him out of the corner of his eye, York and Massa not far behind them.

The rest would follow, spread out to cover more ground and make sure that they hadn't lost him, but Georgia hoped that Cal knew their quarry well enough to guess his plans - and that they had enough people to take him down. Carolina, Maine, and Penn would be welcome sights right about now, but Georgia had a feeling that they might need Massachusetts's expertise before all was said and done.

There were only a few Innies left in the narrow hallways of the bunker, never in sufficient quantity to give five Freelancers anything resembling trouble. The colony had already swarmed out to defend their anthill, leaving nothing but the warren itself to defend their quarry. Harper might have home territory advantage, but he was still a single rabbit gone to ground against the huntsman's pack.

No, not a rabbit, Georgia amended as he caught sight of Harper's face on a screen mounted in one of the open rooms off to the side. Rabbits could kick and bite and destroy a crop, but rabbits didn't lure one into a trap. "Find me yet, Cal?" Harper's voice, inasmuch as it came from any particular direction, floated down from the monitor in a side room they'd just run by. "I've found you."

That hadn't been the Innies' rec room. Or at least, it wasn't anymore. York all but threw Massa forward into Georgia and Ark's backs as the room they'd just passed blew out into the hall. The four agents hit the ground in a tangle of swearing limbs and confusion, rubble thrown after their heels.

"Think they rigged the hallway," Georgia observed as he dug his way out from under.

"What hallway?" Ark asked dryly, looking back over his shoulder, though they risked losing pace with Cal and Harper. The last archway had collapsed in on itself, cutting off the route they'd come - and any other Freelancers who might have tried to follow them down the foxhole.

"Everyone all right?" Massa asked, shaking herself off but not haring off after Cal yet.

"Nothin' but my pride, and how much o' that do you guys let me keep, anyway?" Georgia was heading out as soon as he was up; there was no reason to hold still and every reason to keep moving, whether they knew where they were going or not.

Ark took a few steps after him, but more to keep Georgia within sights than to catch up with California. "Too much, sometimes," he muttered. "I'm fine, Massa."

York was the last to right himself, three steps after the others. "Keep moving, my enhancement'll kick in soon enough." The tan agent spared only a quick glance at their blocked egress and stumbled into a run. "We really should get overtime for these things."

They spared little time for York to catch up, but their pace would have to slow slightly even if he wasn't injured. Georgia and Ark should have sensed that bomb before it went off - they weren't infallible, but there were two demolitionists in a group of five, and Georgia ought to damn well know the sounds and smells of a lit fuse, of a remote detonator charge, of cheap fertilizer mix. Just because Harper had set off odourless, soundless, and relatively well out-of-sight plastic explosives was no excuse; Georgia should have been expecting them. Ark's head was certainly moving as if he were expecting more and cursing himself for the last.

Next one, Georgia'd have to get. He needed it. But Ark needed a catch here, too.

In the wake of the explosion, the hall was too quiet. Georgia couldn't even hear Harper's laughter anymore, and the Innies were gone, for the moment. Then Ark noticed the blood.

Just a drop here, a fleck there, a circle smaller than a fingertip up off to the right. At first Georgia had checked behind him to see if York was slinging it as he ran, but the tan-armoured Freelancer's injuries weren't that bad. Cal was too far ahead for them to know if he'd caused the bloodstains… or was the cause of the bloodstains. While the stuff looked relatively dry and felt tacky when his boot made contact with a bigger spot down the hall, it was still fresh enough to stick, and the further they got, the larger and brighter the drops. At least they had a trail to follow.

"We should try to contact Cal... and see if the others are all right out there," Massa suggested, toying with her helmet radio. Georgia hadn't been the only one to slip in the larger puddles, but the print was too obscured for him to tell who had tracked through here before them. Virginia or Wyoming might have been able to get more out of it, but all Georgia could make out of the streaked blood was that something had dragged through the spot before it dried, not that it was completely dry yet.

Ark shook his head. "I don't know how secure a channel we could get in this base, provided we could send a hail out of this bunker at all. If they've been jamming the surface, I hate to think of how tight the Innies have their own frequencies down here."

York appeared to frown beneath his helmet, sinking minutely into his centre before shaking it off with a shrug. "We've gotta trust the others for now. We'll catch Harper, and then we'll report in to everybody."

"He has quit laughing. Maybe Cal already engaged." Georgia tried to remain optimistic. Of course, if he'd engaged and the blood seemed to all be dragged through in the same direction, deeper into enemy territory… Maybe California was using Harper to get to General Allen? They suspected Allen was somewhere around this location, but the Freelancers had thought they'd had him before.

"Only one way to find out," York said gamely, trying to even out his step as he strode even with Massa. He still wasn't moving with his usual easy lope, and she seemed too quiet. Ark's eyes were turned to the blood on the ground, and Georgia was ready to find a body – any body would be a relief at this point. He could even do with Harper's insane cackle. A simple little "mission accomplished" from Cal would be ideal, but just any clue as to where they stood…

The trail led them onwards around a bend, fresh blood darkening as it dried. The barracks remained too quiet after the mayhem it had taken to get in this far, and the only counterpoint to the tang of iron in the air were undertones of aerosolized plaster and carbon. That, thank God, wasn't as fresh, but it certainly kept Georgia on edge.

"We've got enemy bodies up ahead, but I wouldn't try to touch them," Ark warned the rest. The corpses had been dragged against a wall, throats sloppily cut and armour painted with blood. Some of it still oozed fresh from the wounds, giving a reasonable and somewhat relieving explanation for the trail they'd followed this far… Except for Cal's absence and Harper's silence. The puddle beneath the pile of bodies had been tracked through, both by boots and larger, heavier things dragged behind those boots.

"You thinkin' a literal dead man's switch?" Georgia asked. There were spaces between the gore that didn't bear thinking about.

"I'm thinking we need to be careful." Ark was certainly following his own advice, stopping fairly frequently to scan for tripwires or security feeds. No need to rush. Whoever had killed those Innies wasn't too far away. But had this been the handiwork of Cal, or Harper? Was the latter really crazy enough to turn on his own men?

"Back to how we used to be, aren't we now?" That voice up ahead was familiar, at ease, but it certainly didn't make Georgia feel too comfortable. "I knew you'd come home."

They edged closer, circling up into formation. York stepped forward to take lead, but the others hardly had to say anything; the way all eyes turned his legs was enough for York to motion Ark forward. Georgia remained at his flank, sneaking glances over his left shoulder towards the doorway as the dead bodies in his quarter continued to do nothing but leak blood.

"I've missed you, Jay. You flew off without saying where you were headed and it was so boring without someone to play our little games with me." Harper hadn't shut the door, but the final silent party had been pulled out of sight from the frame. At least the blood tracked through here looked marginally drier than what puddled around the fresh corpses, for better or for worse. On one hand, Harper was definitely talking to someone. On the other, Georgia doubted that it was Dr. Jay, though this "Jay" might need some severe medical help.

"I should have known that you were bringing me new toys. You always have been so… generous." Harper had Cal flat on his back, limbs splayed like a thrown rag doll. The Innie was bent over him with one knee between California's legs, his hands toying with the connecting straps to Cal's helmet. Weakly, Cal attempted to raise his head as Ark fired at the man atop him.

"Hey, we're trying to take him alive, remember?" Georgia muttered softly, but he really shouldn't have worried. Harper shrugged off the three-round burst like a bee-sting.

"Speaking of new toys, look at who's come to interrupt us. You Freelancers never could give a man a chance to catch up in peace, could you?" Harper rose with Cal's helmet in his hands. With his face freshly revealed, Cal's eyes looked cloudy, fogged as he still fought nightmares for consciousness. He probably had a concussion.

He would likely have one shortly if he hadn't had it already. As soon as his eyes snapped into focus, he head-butted the rising Innie low in the chest, bowling him over before Harper found his feet.

"Save it for later," Harper hardly sounded winded as he smiled beneath California's barehanded assault. Cal had his gun on his back, his knives knocked aside through whatever Harper had put him through before the rest of the team got there, but hell if he was wasting time trying to reach it. California's hands were too occupied with the Insurrectionist lieutenant's neck to bother with the submachine. "I have to teach these tin soldiers not to play with fire."

He backhanded Cal hard enough to send the helmetless Freelancer tumbling off of him and pulled his guns.

Well, the Director'd just have to understand if Harper had a few smoking holes in him.

Georgia's fingers warmed from the flow of the capacitors as his Overdrive kicked his assault rifle into the next gear, Ark and Massa adding the reports of their weapons to the clamour to his left side.

Harper should be dead. At the very least, he should be bleeding profusely on the ground, requiring Massa to even be dragged out of the bunker alive. He certainly was dripping blood from a few shots along his legs, where the plating wasn't as thick, but his torso, arms, and head seemed all untouched. Georgia had to admit, those Innies sure had made some impressive suits. He at least had thrown his armour-plated arm before his face in a shallow parody of cover, but when York made his presence known by jumping Harper from behind once Ark finally let up on the bullets, the Innie dropped the gun in his raised hand, caught the tan Freelancer's shoulder where York had caught him in a half-nelson, and tossed York off like a dress uniform tie at the promise of a free laundry day.

York and Cal were both rising from their tumbles to charge at Harper again, and Georgia advanced while firing short bursts. It wouldn't take Harper down just in whatever fire he, Ark, and Massa could squeeze in around their comrades, but it would hopefully keep the demon away from his trigger.

Harper didn't have time to aim between the flying bullets, but then the Freelancers didn't, either, and Georgia, Ark, and Massa were more concerned with who not to hit than the Innie lieutenant had ever been. Harper raised an arm to protect his face, but otherwise ignored the rounds, even as his armour began to dent.

He met Cal's charge with a gauntleted fist to the nose that sent a fresh splatter of blood flying through the air. "Boop!" he called out playfully as Cal staggered back under the assault. Harper was grinning widely as York kicked out his knees, but those eyes were still poisonous acid fires, gleeful for nothing but the pain.

Georgia and Ark closed the distance before Harper could rise to his feet, but that didn't leave him helpless. The Innie's hand was wrapped tight around his pistol, and he let off an erratic burst that panged off the concrete ceiling and scattered wildly among the Freelancers. York was more or less covered from ricochets by Harper himself, but Massa leapt to protect California's unprotected skull with her own backplate, pulling his head against her chest and trying to examine his shattered nose while crouched down with him.

"You'd best hold him down," Harper wheezed another laugh through York's renewed stranglehold as Ark wrestled the pistol away. "You are out to capture or kill all the Innies, are you not?"

"Don't you fucking dare, Harper," Cal growled through spat blood. He tried to stand, but Massa held him back. Maybe he would have caught the knife quicker. Ark hadn't released the Innie's wrist as he pulled the gun away, but when Harper jerked his hand forward, it wasn't so much the fist swung a futile inch towards his best friend that shocked Georgia. It was the six-inch blade popping out of the back of Harper's elbow, stabbing straight into York's side.

Ark yanked him off, the blade pulling away from York's ribs, without even thinking about it, and Georgia was there to catch Harper's other side, stretching his arms between them and determining that whatever Harper used to block Massa's sonic enhancement, it sure didn't do much against a green-armoured fist.

Massa herself rose from Cal's side to run to York's; while gaining control of Harper's arm was certainly a good idea, ripping the metal stemming the tide of blood sideways out of York's ribs probably wasn't the safest medical procedure Ark could have performed. At least York had his enhancement.

"Why not? You ought to let your team know about your loyalties, Jay." Harper didn't try to struggle too much between them as Cal stomped over, blood still streaming down his face. "Why not let them know where you started off?"

"I started off in UNSC. No thanks to you," Cal poked him in the chest with one finger, "I was recruited into Project Freelancer. End of story."

When Harper went limp in Georgia's grip, he should have suspected something, but he was a bit too late to keep the lieutenant from snapping out like a chained dog, wrapping his mouth about the first two knuckles of Cal's extended finger and letting his lips and tongue linger with a wet pop when Ark and Georgia scraped him off. "You thanked me for something in between there."

"Hold him, Georgia," Ark directed, his voice cold and abstracted as his eyes lingered on Cal beneath that coral scout helmet. Georgia took both wrists behind Harper's back, knees braced against any more attempts to shift his weight and a wary eye on that long blade coming out of his armoured limb. Ark stepped away slowly, watching the tremble in Cal's hand as he drew back. There was certainly rage in Cal's features, his face pale beneath the blood dripping down old scars, but there was pain in those gritted teeth too, fear.

Definitely some fear there. Harper licked a mix of his blood and Cal's from his lips.

"Want to explain, Agent California?" Arkansas asked softly.

"Ark, let it go. Harper's just trying to wind everyone up," Massa called out. The medic spoke sense, but Ark just offered a cool half nod in Cal's direction. Couldn't stop him from exploring Freelancer history any more than one could stop Georgia from investigating a boiler room.

"It wasn't me that joined the Insurrection. I don't care what he tells you; that wasn't me." Cal kept glancing at Harper out of the corner of his eyes, his voice flat and uncharacteristically serious.

Harper pursed his lips, as if blowing him a kiss. "It could be again, you know." Georgia was more used to being on the wrong end of a tackle, but it was time to put him on the ground. Purely for safety.

"I think we need to take this to another level, but I don't know that I'm up for it," York spoke through gritted teeth, but he was at least speaking, a hand over the biofoam spilling out of his suit in place of lung tissue.

Ark squatted before Harper, looking him in the eye. "Tell me where General Allen is, and I won't hand you over to Cal."

The Innie just laughed, the spasms rocking Georgia where he sat, hand still firmly around Harper's wrists. "You act like that would be a bad thing."

"Let me rephrase that," Ark said, his voice containing just a trace of the deadpan he saved for Georgia's more creative endeavors, "tell me where Allen is, and I won't hand you over to Cal, his best friend, and his girlfriend, who happens to have a very poor tolerance for jokes such as yourself, aboard our ship, with all the comforts of home."

"'Girlfriend?'" Harper repeated with a bark of unbelieving laughter. "Bet she can't -"

Georgia located a spark plug in his tool belt. Combined with his Overdrive, it made an effective taser. "Not what we're listen' for, Harper."

"You don't scare me, kid. Who do you think taught your precious little 'Cal?'" Georgia sent a few more volts through his exposed neck, reaching to touch the spark to just beneath the blond hairline. Those curls stood on end and Harper bucked involuntarily like a mechanical bull, a pig trussed for slaughter. Which reminded Georgia that he hadn't had home-cooked pork chops in forever. Beneath the abattoir smell, the singe of the electrical burn was rather comforting.

"If you think you can handle the truth, I'll tell you exactly where General Allen is, but only for one reason," Harper spoke hoarsely, once he could talk again. "You can't handle it. I know who you are, kid." He finished by spitting at Ark's feet, his phlegm mixed with blood, his final taunt no doubt directed at the agent in coral while the others looked on, confused.

Ark nodded, and left Massa and Georgia to patch things up. He never could resist the chance to ferret out information, any more than Georgia could resist a chance to test out a new bomb.

Even when both exploded in their faces.