Cell Disruption: Russia

The Citadel, Situation Room

"Get the rest of them up here," the Commander instructed Bradford neutrally, not looking away from the screens showing the armor cams of the surviving soldiers. "We need to discuss this."

"Yes, Commander," Bradford swallowed and walked off, already speaking into his earpiece.

This should not have happened. Even without optimal positioning, they should have been able to fight off any human military force that came their way. Or so he'd thought. Apparently he was wrong on that front, judging from the results staring him in the face. It hadn't just been a setback, this was a decisive loss that hadn't happened since that Haiti mission when they'd first encountered the mutons.

Once he'd seen it was going to result in a defeat, he'd enacted the Zeus Contingency, although he doubted it had done much. It had taken too long for the Raven to arrive there and all that the pilot had reported was an abandoned village. They'd cleared out quickly, or had hidden in the buildings. He'd ordered the Raven to raze the area, of course, but he doubted much had been accomplished.

He heard heavy footsteps walk up beside him. Van Doorn; no one else was in the room. "They were good," the General admitted, lips pursed and features overall exhibiting concern. "Better than they had any reason to be."

"I suppose you don't have an idea who they are?" The Commander asked, crossing his arms.

"I know of no unit or organization with that particular color scheme or equipment," Van Doorn admitted. "That being said, I do not know every military group in existence."

"These soldiers had special forces-like efficiency," the Commander pointed out. "Far more so than a typical mercenary organization." His tone turned grim. "I would be surprised if this wasn't a government unit of some kind."

"They're on their way up," Bradford informed him, walking over. "I'm working to get stills of the fight, to see if they have any markings."

"Good," the Commander thanked. "Who is working to get the images?"

"Ariel Jackson, Commander," Bradford answered. "She helped contain the EXALT virus."

Ah, yes. He remembered her now. "Good, let me know if there are any updates," the Commander told him. Bradford's hand went to his ear.

"Hold on, I'll be back," Bradford walked off again.

"I don't suppose you know who the woman is?" The Commander asked, looking back at the screens or the assumed leader. "I've never seen her before."

"That bandanna didn't help," Van Doorn reminded him. "But no, I didn't recognize what little of her face I could see."

"Or why she was carrying a plasma rifle," the Commander muttered, turning to the holotable. "That's probably the most concerning."

"Alien weapons self-destruct upon death," Van Doorn recalled, crossing his arms as his eyebrows furrowed. "So the only way this woman could have acquired it is if she found it, or it was given to her."

"Or someone else has managed to develop plasma weaponry before us," the Commander supposed. "It is not outside the realm of possibility, though highly unlikely."

"I doubt it," Van Doorn disagreed, shaking his head. "If so, why not equip all their soldiers with plasma weapons? Furthermore, who could possibly be ahead of us in alien weaponry?"

He had a point. A good one. "I don't know," the Commander admitted. "But what is the other possibility? That the aliens just left one rifle unattended or worse, are allied with these soldiers."

"I'm not sure these soldiers are allied," Van Doorn said carefully, resting his chin on his hand. "Because wouldn't the same questions apply? Why not supply your allies with the weaponry that will ensure your opponent's defeat?"

"To keep them dependent," the Commander answered immediately. "What I'm doing with Israel and Germany now. Give them some of our technology to fiddle around with, but not enough to give them an advantage over us."

"Hmm." Van Doorn didn't comment on that and instead looked down at the holographic map of the world.

The doors hissed open and Shen, Vahlen and Zhang walked through. "What's happened?" Vahlen demanded as she strode up to him, concern in her eyes. The Commander motioned them to gather around the holotable.

Bradford saw them gather and walked over to the right end of the table. With Vahlen on his right and Van Doorn on his left, the Commander took a breath and spoke. "A short time ago I sent down a team to investigate an abduction zone. They were ambushed by an unidentified human military force and ultimately driven back.

Vahlen started and twisted her head sharply at him. Shen also looked surprised, but kept better control than Vahlen. Zhang simply narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. "A human force?" He repeated slowly.

"Correct, Director," Bradford confirmed, handed him a tablet which the Commander assumed had stills taken from the fight. "Jackson is converting the videos to holographic form so we should hopefully have better information shortly."

"How many did we lose?" Shen asked quietly, sorrow showing on his aged face.

"Three," the Commander sighed. "And we weren't able to recover the bodies. I ordered an airstrike on the area, but given how long it took to actually happen, we have to assume they left, probably with the bodies."

Zhang muttered what sounded like a Chinese curse, and Vahlen added one in German. "Then that means they have our armor and weapons," Shen realized with a sigh. "And I never had thought to add self-destruct features to them."

"A mistake," the Commander nodded. "But one I also bear responsibility for. I should have ordered it as a precaution, even if I didn't see the need." He shook his head in frustration. "I didn't think we had to worry about aliens recovering our weapons; after all, they're still more advanced than us, so that wasn't a concern. And I also didn't think a human military force would be able to best us." His hand unconsciously curled into a fist. "A mistake that will not be repeated."

Shen nodded grimly. "I'll begin converting all of our existing weapons and armor with self-destruct capabilities. Though I must ask, how do you want them done?"

The Commander glanced at Vahlen, then back at Shen. "Ideally, I'd prefer some way that would take out as many aliens or soldiers as possible. But you're the engineer, Shen, you have a better idea of what's possible."

Shen adjusted his glasses. "I'll see what I can do, Commander."

"I have an idea as well," Vahlen interjected, looking towards Shen. "I'll talk to you after."

"Excellent," the Commander leaned on the holotable. "Both of you working on this is preferable."

"Returning to the mission itself," Van Doorn redirected, looking thoughtfully at Shen. "I think it's time to increase the size of our squads. They might have been able to hold out if they weren't overrun by sheer numbers. One or two could have made all the difference."

"A good point," Bradford nodded at Van Doorn. "The aliens are also likely to increase their force size once they know sheer numbers can overwhelm us."

"The squad size is a limitation of the skyranger, correct?" The Commander asked Shen.

"Correct, Commander," Shen confirmed. "And yes, it is possible to upgrade it further, though only by two. Any more and a new aircraft will have to be constructed. And I don't think XCOM can afford anymore new aircraft."

The Commander frowned at that. "Implying that we already have new aircraft?"

"Ah, yes," Shen coughed nervously. "When designing the MECs, I knew that we would need some way to transport them to the mission areas. The skyranger obviously wouldn't do, so I had to come up with another design. I just finished it a day ago and sent it off for manufacturing, I was going to tell you later today, but…you asked us up here first."

The Commander cocked his head. "And just what are the specifications of this transport."

"At the moment, it's designed to hold up to four MEC suits," Shen explained, handing him his tablet to see the designs. "They're transported using by hooking and hanging them in the aircraft itself and then dropping them when they're ready to deploy."

"Good to know," the Commander muttered as he looked at the designs. "And this is going to cut into our funds, I assume. Will you be able to upgrade the skyrangers we have?"

"Yes," Shen answered slowly. "But not all at once. We have enough funds to begin conversion immediately of one, but we'll have to wait for our next allotment from the Council before converting the others."

"One will do for now," the Commander nodded. "I'll see if we can get additional funding from Israel and Germany in advance."

"Commander," Bradford swallowed. "Jackson has finished some conversion. We know who these soldiers are." He began tapping on the holotable.

"Who?" The Commander demanded, more puzzled than curious. That was remarkably fast. "Actually, how?"

The holotable lit up, focusing on three holographic soldiers, the woman leader flanked by two subordinates. "Look at their shoulder capes," Bradford suggested. "Is that what it looks like?" The Commander was skeptical when he saw the symbol, but after seeing it on both other capes, it was pretty obvious.

"EXALT," he spat. His face like stone, he glanced over to Zhang. "I don't suppose you happened upon anything saying EXALT has an army at their command?" He wasn't quite able to keep all of the sarcasm out of that question.

Zhang shook his head. "No, Commander. I'm still conducting operations against them, but at the moment we still know very little."

The Commander looked down, trying to let the frustration bubbling inside get to him. Zhang wasn't at fault for this, not really. He'd known they had some kind of special forces or military power, but he wasn't quite expecting it at this level. Well, at least this made a lot more sense than some country attacking in retaliation against him.

"Well, EXALT has just become a much larger priority," the Commander stated, keeping his voice neutral. "Zhang, Bradford. I want both of you working together against EXALT. Zhang, I want all updates on your current operations against them. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander!" They nodded in unison.

"Good," the Commander returned his attention to the holotable. "Now, we need to figure out how they knew to expect us, and why they're wielding alien weaponry."

"You know," Van Doorn suggested grimly. "Your theory about them allying with the aliens doesn't seem so far off now. We're predictable. The aliens know we show up whenever they abduct a town, so it would be easy to tell EXALT where we were heading."

"It would also explain how EXALT knew we were using laser tech and developed equipment to negate it," the Commander added as he remembered the fight. "And I suppose the aliens would have just given them a few plasma rifles."

"Why would EXALT work with the aliens?" Vahlen wondered, clutching her tablet as she frowned at the holograms. "Surely they don't think they're are here to help them?"

"I doubt it," the Commander stated coldly. "They probably think they can use the aliens; bleed them of technology to further their agenda. The only issue is that it relies on the aliens being complete idiots and not anticipating a betrayal of some kind. And since the aliens are not stupid, it means they're also using EXALT. A negative result for us all around."

"Unless they would actually prefer alien rule?" Bradford suggested. "Fringe groups do have some odd values and wants."

"We're not dealing with a fringe group or an internet group of alien sympathizers," Zhang disagreed harshly. "This is a professional organization that is potentially centuries old. No, they think that they're the special ones that can somehow manipulate the aliens."

"Arrogance," the Commander mused. "Perhaps we can use that against them."

"We need to find them first," Bradford reminded them. "Until then, we need to issue something on EXALT to the soldiers. Even if you don't want to release-"

"No," the Commander raised a hand. "Release everything. They need to know what we know. EXALT relies on secrets and anonymity. Remove that and they, and we, will have a better chance of beating them."

"There is another possibility to consider," Zhang interrupted slowly. "They have a mole; within us, the Council or United Nations. They might be allied with the aliens, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're getting their information from them."

"Is this a suggestion, or do you have something?" The Commander demanded.

"I have nothing," Zhang reassured him. "But I think we should consider the possibility," he hesitated. "If you want, I can begin some…investigations."

The Commander didn't reply for a minute. "I'll speak to you about that later, Zhang. That's a discussion for another time." He glanced over at the General. "Van Doorn, see if NATO has anything on EXALT. Maybe get Herman to speak to-" he paused. "Actually, no. I'll speak to him myself."

He looked at them. "That's it. Dismissed." He gave his salute and all of them returned it. All of them walked out of the room except Vahlen who stayed by his side. Once the door had hissed closed, he turned around and leaned on the holotable. Vahlen also turned to him, now slightly taller than him from his leaning.

"You alright?" She asked, moving to lean on the table beside him.

He pursed his lips. "I got complacent," he finally said. "Overconfident, I guess. I assumed what was going to happen and as a result, people died. I'll be fine, but I'm concerned with my performance now."

"You don't need to be," Vahlen said, looking at him. "It won't work again. No tactic works on you twice."

"But eventually, it'll happen with something else," the Commander stated sadly. "And I don't know what that is. I've been lucky it's only been soldiers I've lost and not worse. I'm not sure what I can do to prevent that. Sure, I'll be fine for a while, extra vigilant and everything, but then I'll get complacent again, intentionally or not."

"You're not infallible," Vahlen reminded him. "And this isn't all your fault either. If I'm not mistaken, Van Doorn and Bradford were also in the room, were they not?"

"They were," he admitted. "But I'm the one who makes the calls." He pushed himself up and walked over by the screens. "I'm not effective here," he admitted quietly. "I can make decisions about our deployments, nations to influence and court, our use of resources…but making judgment calls through screens is impossible. I'm not there and that's what's bothering me."

"Don't let one mission negate all your previous ones," Vahlen told him sternly, walking behind him. "You've done exceptional for the most part."

The Commander snorted. "Moira, you overestimate my level of involvement. I usually leave major decisions to the soldiers who are actually there. They have a much better grasp on the situation than I ever could just watching. The most I can really provide is information on the terrain or if more aliens are coming. Marginal stuff, really."

"Is that a bad thing?" Vahlen asked tentatively, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Depends," he shrugged. "For me, yes. I keep feeling that I'm contributing less for the actual soldiers risking their lives," he raised a hand to cut off her inevitable reply. "Yes, yes, I know that's rationally not true. But it feels that way sometimes. I make decisions, yes, but I'm not as good making connections and logistics as Bradford and not nearly as good a diplomat as Van Doorn. I can read people and exploit their weaknesses, but I feel many of the decisions I make could be done by others."

"Absolutely not." Vahlen stated firmly, shaking her head. "You give yourself far too little credit. What sets you apart is that you aren't afraid of doing whatever it takes to defend us. You really think someone else would have determined that the Hades Contingency was necessary? Do you think they would have had the courage to stand up to the Council? The MEC project? My own experiments? Do you really think things would be the same if you weren't in charge?"

"Probably not," the Commander admitted. "I'm just saying what it feels like right now." He shook his head. "You've not exactly caught me in a good frame of mind. I'll probably be past it in a few hours."

"So the important question," Vahlen walked in front of him and looked him in the eye. "What are you going to do?"

That question was one he'd wondered and now, oddly enough, he actually did. "When Zhang locates where EXALT is hiding, I'm going to take a squad and wipe them out," he stated coldly. "There will be retribution for today, and I will personally ensure it is carried out."

Vahlen gave one firm nod. "Do what you need to."

He gave a wry smile. "Really? You aren't worried I'm going to die or something?"

Vahlen sighed and took his hands in her own. "Of course I am," she admitted softly. "But I also know why you're doing it and trust that you're going to come back."

"Huh," the Commander said. "And here I was ready to defend myself."

The corners of her lips curled up. "You have enough to worry about without me being overprotective."

"Interesting word choice," he commented wryly.

She shrugged. "What else do you call it when you worry about someone unnecessarily?"

"Fair point," he conceded and they stood there for a minute. He coughed. "Thanks, Moira. It's…relieving to have you to talk to."

Vahlen smiled and leaned up to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Looking very self-satisfied, she stepped back. "Anytime, Commander. I'll let you get back to work now." She walked past him, leaving him standing there. The door hissed closed and he realized he probably should move.

Shaking his head, he turned around. Not the right time to think about that. He had work to do now. Best get to it.

The Citadel, Hallways

Something must have happened, judging from the increased pace and frantic movements of some of the staff as they rushed past him. Herman frowned as two techs ran beside him without so much as a nodded greeting. That, combined with the fact that the Commander had asked to see him meant something was going on.

He eventually reached the Commander's office and hands clasped behind his back, walked up to the door which opened noiselessly. The Commander was leaning against the wall, a tablet in his head. Hearing him come in, he pushed himself off the wall and walked over.

He looked worn out; not tired, but run down at the very least. The dark circles under his eyes indicated he didn't get much sleep, but his eyes seemed unusually vibrant. Almost angry. He didn't sound tired though. "Herman, thanks for coming."

Herman inclined his head in greeting. "Just as well, I was going to come see you soon anyway."

"Hmm," the Commander shrugged and continued. "We'll get to whatever you want to talk about. But I'd like to ask some questions."

Herman gave a light grin. "Is this an interrogation?"

"No, no," the Commander denied, shaking his head. "Just something you might be able to help with."

Alright, if he couldn't tell he was joking, it must be serious. Adopting the same attitude, he answered. "Go ahead, Commander."

"We recently sent out a team to investigate an abduction zone in Mexico," the Commander told him, handing him a tablet. "It turned out to be a trap set by an organization called EXALT. We were forced to retreat."

Herman looked at the tablet which had pictures of the enemy soldiers. Well, this was interesting. "I haven't seen that in a long time," he muttered as he flipped through.

"What?" The Commander demanded, eyebrows furrowing. "You've seen them before?"

Herman looked up. "Not the armor or equipment, no. But those bandannas, I was involved in an African operation once and we encountered some mercenaries that also wore them. Theirs were green, not orange, but it's an interesting coincidence."

"This mercenary group," the Commander demanded bluntly. "Do you know anything about them?"

"We just assumed they were mercenaries," Herman clarified. "All of them were killed when we took a village they were holding. They didn't have any identifying markings and their clothing was more practical for desert and jungle work," he motioned at the tablet. "Nothing like these soldiers."

"Have you heard of EXALT?" the Commander asked, looking at him intently.

Herman put the tablet down. "I've heard of it, certainly. But from my understanding, most of the intelligence community views it as a myth. Sorry, I don't know anything about it, real or otherwise."

"Of course they do," the Commander muttered under his breath. "Well, we have proof EXALT does exist and is working against us."

"Who are they affiliated with?" Herman asked. "Actually," he raised a hand. "How much do you have?"

"We initially thought they were working on their own," the Commander explained, flicking through his own tablet. "They were one of the parties involved in the destabilization of Germany. We know now that they're very well organized, well equipped and exhibit an as-of now unknown degree of influence over various countries."

Herman frowned. These sort of conspiracy theories weren't exactly new. But most of time they were dismissed by most rational people. Which was a large reason why EXALT was considered a myth, the idea that a small group was secretly manipulating world events was incredibly hard to believe.

And yet, the Commander seemed convinced that they existed and were responsible for attacks on them. "How do you know for certain?" Herman asked, crossing his arms. "Forgive me for being skeptical, but this is a borderline conspiracy theory."

"We captured an EXALT operative who gave us the name and another who was receiving funding from them to destabilize Germany," the Commander explained. "We also acquired their symbol from another source, a symbol that is on the capes of the soldiers who ambushed us."

He handed the tablet to him which showed what he assumed was the EXALT symbol. "But isn't it a leap to assume that these people are influencing governments and such? That's much different from a rogue intelligence agency."

The Commander sighed. "Perhaps, but it's the next logical step. We extracted information about shell companies controlled by EXALT. Once we compromised Germany for them, all of them were shut down in some form or another. We've been tracking where they're moving to and I've begun operations against them that way."

Herman put down his tablet. "Where?"

The Commander hesitated, clearly debating what to tell him. "A Russian farming company."

"And I don't suppose you've spoken with the President about the operation in his country?" Herman asked wearily.

"Of course not," the Commander shook his head. "I don't know how far their influence goes and will not risk compromising the operation just to be nice. I doubt they'll even know we were there."

Herman sighed, then frowned as a new realization struck him. "How exactly are you conducting espionage operations without an intelligence force? Unless…"

"Don't get too excited," the Commander grunted. "I have a few soldiers who have intelligence backgrounds. A few Mossad and Kidon agents. I felt this was worth investigating, but it's nowhere near a full time operation," he smirked. "How would I have time to run it? And unfortunately, no one else has intelligence experience besides me."

"Perhaps that should change," Herman wondered. "I'm not exactly sure I completely believe that EXALT is a world-altering organization, but since they are clearly moving against XCOM, it might be prudent to have some sort of dedicated covert operations group."

The Commander looked surprised at that. "Believe me, I agree. But the issue is that the Council would never allow it. You should have seen the reaction to when I helped identify the causes of the instability in Germany. It was, and I quote, "Outside my jurisdiction.""

Herman eyed him. "For some reason, I doubt that words alone would stop you."

"I have to pick my fights with the Council," he defended. "A good portion already distrust me, and would never give me the authority to spy on them."

Herman leaned against the wall. "Would you?"

The Commander snorted. "If I felt they posed a threat to XCOM, absolutely."

"Reasonable," Herman conceded. "Listen, perhaps I could help with this. I might be able to convince the Council of the necessity of this, especially with this EXALT organization entering the mix."

"Really," the Commander eyed him with interest. "Oddly considerate. But if you can get them to approve of an Intelligence program, under my control, mind you, then please do." He shook his head. "And if it helps, tell them we suspect that EXALT is currently allied with the aliens."

Herman blinked. "What?"

"It's not confirmed," the Commander warned, raising a hand. "But one of them was wielding a plasma rifle and they had an uncanny knowledge of our equipment, weaponry and tactics. Stuff they couldn't know about without inside information," he paused. "Anyway, the reason I brought you up in the first place was to see if you could ask the Council for anything on EXALT. Anything you can get will be useful."

Herman nodded. "I'll do my best." With that he turned around and made to leave.

"Wait." Herman turned back around to see the Commander eyeing him. "You said you wanted to discuss something with me?"

Oh, right. "Yes," he answered with a nod. "But it's not quite as urgent compared to this."

"Unlikely," the Commander agreed, waving his hand indicating him to continue. "But I would like to hear it all the same."

Alright, here he went. Taking a deep breath, he walked back by the Commander. "It regards the virus you have Vahlen working on for the sectoids."

"Ah, she spoke to you about that?" He asked, not sounding at all concerned. "I'm rather impressed she was able to do it."

Impressed. Yes, that was one word that could be used. Disturbed was what he personally felt, but that wasn't why he was here. "Yes, I do have some concerns about it."

Even if he didn't, he would almost hear the Commander's sigh in his voice. "And they are?"

Herman paused dramatically. "It's not efficient enough."

The Commander cocked his head, that answer he'd clearly not expected. "Explain?"

Herman placed his hands behind his back. "With the way the virus is designed now, it will take weeks before it even takes effect. That's understandable and a clever way to spread the virus unnoticed. However, drawing out the death of the sectoids provides no tactical advantage whatsoever."

He cleared his throat. "If anything, it increases the chance that a cure will be able to be discovered and thus render the whole virus useless. Whereas if the virus killed within a few days, it would be almost impossible for the aliens to develop a cure or antidote."

The Commander was silent for a few minutes, a small smile on his face. "Clever," he commented, though Herman was pretty sure it wasn't in response to his actual argument. "But contrary to what you say, there is a tactical advantage to the horrific means of execution. Fear." The Commander's eyes bored into his unsettlingly. "The effect is demoralizing and breeds terror within the species and the other alien races. Because if we can wipe out one species, what's to stop them from being next? Aside from that, I feel it a fitting end to a species looking to destroy us."

"Yes," Herman coughed. "But if a cure-"

"I'm not concerned about that possibility," the Commander interrupted. "Vahlen has assured me that it is incurable and because of how the virus works, any kind of genetic modification or tampering with the virus will result in the death of the subject. Simply put, it's impossible to cure in the traditional sense. The only "antidote" is to change the genome of the sectoid, which would prevent the virus from taking hold at all. Which would only be able to be done on future clones of sectoids."

Well, he should have known the Commander, and Vahlen, would have considered that possibility. They'd have been foolish not to. Well, he'd at least tried. "That being said," the Commander interrupted his thoughts. "You do raise a good point. The aliens will catch on eventually and it will become more prudent to kill as many as possible. So how about a compromise; we deploy the virus as-is and after the initial wave takes ahold, we switch to a more…efficient version that works as you said." He gave a grim smile. "We accomplish our goals psychologically, and then kill as many as possible."

Well…it wasn't quite what he wanted. But more than he expected, he'd actually not expected the Commander to back down at all. "That seems…prudent…Commander."

"I'm glad you think so," the Commander nodded. "You're dismissed now."

He nodded and left the room. Alright, he had a lot to discuss with the Council. He supposed that was as close as he was going to get to changing the Commander's mind, but that at least showed he was willing to compromise, provided he worded everything right. He'd suspected that appealing to the Commander's sense of morality probably wouldn't work. Especially since he wasn't convinced he had much to begin with. So what would work? Practicality and efficiency, that seemed to be arguments he respected. Arguments backed up by solid reasoning.

He sincerely hoped he would be able to convince the Council to authorize some sort of Intelligence branch, not just because it would make him more trustworthy in the Commander's eyes, but because that wasn't something that couldn't be done part time. Mistakes got made that way, mistakes that killed people and the Commander had enough stress without worrying about other operations.

But he was right that the Council would not want him to have complete autonomy and he was certain that the Commander would put up a fight if they insisted on more oversight. And EXALT, hopefully they had something on that.

Hmm, what was the op in Africa? It might be a good idea to request that, even if it was just a coincidence. Never hurt to check.

Isolated Location, Russia

"Come on," Ruth muttered as she and Abby laid upon the sparse grass as they observed the factory. "Show us something."

They'd arrived in Russia a couple days ago and spent most of that time getting into position before the actual infiltration. As Abby was finding out, that involved a lot of sitting around and doing nothing. At least the weather was pleasant, not to hot or cold. But quite honestly, she was getting bored.

The factory itself was in an oddly isolated location. Deep in the Russian wilderness. Surrounded by forests and hills, it was very scenic and beautiful. The factory rested on a large field of grass while they watched from one of the forested hills a mile or so back.

"Finally," Ruth muttered while she gazed through the binoculars. "Abby, make note that the guard changes every four hours. I think we have enough to back that up."

"Got it," Abby confirmed and made that note on her pad. "Anything else?"

"We'll probably have ten to fifteen minutes before they're all in position," Ruth added. "But hopefully, we won't need to rely on that."

Hopefully. This place was much larger than she'd initially assumed. It was slightly larger than some factories she'd seen in America, and much better guarded too. It did make sense, especially if they were connected to EXALT in some way. There were only two entrances, at the front and back. Otherwise, the building was surrounded by an electrified chain fence. To make matters worse, it was frequently patrolled by armed guards, a lot of them.

They'd counted at least fifteen different ones just on the outside, and an unknown number which resided in the factory itself. "A lot of security for a company," Abby commented as she watched a pair of guards stop a truck that was entering through the front checkpoint. "Even if is a large one."

"No way could they afford this kind of security with only one or two factories," Ruth agreed. "But, well, not like we expected anything else."

"How soon do you think we'll move in?" Abby asked as she leaned back against a tree. "He's going to be coming back soon."

"Um-hmm," Ruth nodded absentmindedly. "Trust me, I'm well aware of that. But we only need to infiltrate the facility once, plant the transponder, and leave. With any luck, it'll siphon information off their computers to Akello for a few days until they figure it out. In the meantime, perhaps some of those black trucks will show up."

"Let's hope," Abby sighed. "I think we'd actually learn more if we focused on the trucks. They're clearly going somewhere."

"Really, and here I thought they were just vanishing into space," Ruth commented dryly. "But I get it. Which is why I'll shoot the tracker on the trucks the next time they come," she backed away. "We've got enough for now. Let's head back."

Abby grabbed her pack and followed Ruth through the woods to the makeshift campsite a few miles away. Kalonymous was nowhere to be seen when they returned, but Akello was sitting by the portable antenna typing on her laptop.

She looked up as they approached. "Learn anything?"

"Shift changes," Ruth answered, tossing her pack down and moving over to the food pack. "It turned out to be exactly like I said, we just confirmed it."

"Well, good for you," Akello answered, shrugging and returned to her laptop. "Meanwhile, I've been poking around their cyber defenses."

"And?" Ruth demanded, looking at her with interest as she took a drink from a water bottle.

"Their security is good," Akello answered, a touch of admiration in her tone. "Like, really good. Better than it has any right to be."

"You can't get in?" Abby asked, going over to sit by her.

"Oh, I will eventually," she reassured them, waving her hand dismissively. "But it'll take some creativity."

"Where is Kalonymous?" Ruth asked, looking around the small camp. Abby raised her head. Ruth was right, he should have come out.

"Don't worry about him," Akello commented as she typed. "He went into the woods about an hour ago. 'Practicing," he said." Ruth relaxed a bit at that so Abby assumed she knew what that meant.

But she didn't. "And what does that mean?" She asked Ruth.

"That means he's almost ready for the op," Ruth explained as she sat on the ground opposite them. "He does that. Gets into character, practices the voice, mannerisms and patterns of the person he's imitating. He's the best disguise artist I know for a reason."

"A reputation I work to uphold," a distinctly Russian voice said, startling her. She could swear that Madvay had somehow followed them. Turning around, she saw a disturbing look-alike. His hair was styled exactly the same and he'd somehow turned his skin a lighter color that matched Madvay's exactly. The eyes were also the same and the voice was nearly perfect.

The only issue was that his face wasn't really close to what Madvay's actually was. But from a distance…and in combination with the voice…he could easily be mistaken for him. "That's really creepy," she said, not quite sure what else to say. "No offense."

"None taken," he assured her, keeping the same voice. It was eerie hearing him act like normal with that voice and look. "I take that as a compliment."

"I guess we'll move in tomorrow," Ruth said. "We have everything we need. The IDs, disguise and transponder. So you and Abby will go in, set it, and get out."

"So what are you going to do if someone recognizes you?" Abby asked. "Or rather, recognizes it's not you?"

"Got you covered," Akello called out. "I made a separate ID with some fake name that he can show if he wants to. A dummy card, but it'll fool most people provided it's accompanied by a good performance."

"Which I can provide," Kalonymous answered with a deferential nod.

"I suggest we get some rest," Ruth said, standing up. "We've got a busy day tomorrow. Now-"

"Woah," Akello exclaimed suddenly.

Ruth's head snapped over. "What?"

"Someone else is also trying to get in," she explained. "Like, get past the security as well."

"Who?" Ruth demanded, striding over.

"No idea," Akello admitted. "Though if they're trying to get in, I'm guessing they aren't EXALT."

"Can they find us?" Abby asked, gesturing at the screen.

"Nope," Akello reassured them. "Should they somehow manage to trace where this computer is, they'll find it somewhere in the United States. And if they break that, it'll be somewhere in Australia-"

"Right we get it," Kalonymous interrupted. "You used a lot of proxies. A no would have been fine."

"Hmm," Ruth murmured. "Could you…coordinate with this person to break into the system?"

"Yes…" Akello answered slowly. "But I would have to actually be speaking to them for anything to really be effective."

"So can you?" Abby asked.

"I can open a chat log," Akello said. "You want me to?"

"If you're sure they won't be able to figure out who you are," Ruth answered. "Or let me put it this way: could you find the identity of this person?"

"After a few days, perhaps," Akello answered, frowning at the screen. "Though it would require-"

"Good enough," Ruth cut her off abruptly. "Open communications with them."

"Understood," Akello nodded, her lips curling into a grin. "Let's see what they want."

"I count fifteen," Cerian informed as he watched the factory through the scope of his sniper rifle. "Probably more inside."

"Pretty heavy security," Ren noted as he watched through the scope of his rifle as well. "But is that really unusual for a large company? Especially in Russia?"

"Depends," Cerian answered, frowning as he watched. "In this case, I find it unusual, but it's not really raising any red flags for me."

"Then I guess the question is why XCOM is interested in it," Ren shrugged.

That question was definitely one he was no closer to solving. They'd done thorough research on the company before arriving and…nothing appeared out of the ordinary. There hadn't been any legal issues facing the company and they were one of the more known distributors in the Russian farming industry.

By all rights, XCOM shouldn't be interested in this. There was no one employed who had any connection to the government or any kind of foreign entity. It didn't seem to have anything to do with the aliens either, which made this whole situation bizarre.

He was convinced he was missing an important piece. Patrick had been just as confused as him when he'd given the update. He'd provided them with everything they had, or course, but he didn't know why any more than Cerian did.

One theory was that XCOM had somehow discovered some kind of criminal activity within the company, which might explain the security and how they were doing so well financially. But there were some glaring problems with that, namely that again, there was no reason why XCOM would even care. And if it was, why would they not just tell the Russians?

"When do you think they'll make their move?" Ren asked, sounding bored.

"I'd think they'd want to do it sooner than later," Cerian answered adjusting his scope. "But when they do, we'll know it."

"Hopefully Mary can get into their network," Ren sighed. "Then we might figure something concrete out. Probably more than just watching for them here for hours."

"Break time," Darril interrupted as he snuck up behind them. Cerian looked up at him and Olivia standing behind them. Rising to his knees he handed the rifle to Darril.

"No change since the last time," he updated as Ren gave his rifle to Olivia. "Nothing suspicious from XCOM either."

"So, probably another six hours of nothing?" Olivia commented ruefully as she laid on the ground and took her position. "Well, not much we can do."

"Yep," Cerian sighed. "We'll see you shortly." He and Ren set off back to their own makeshift camp. It only took them a half hour to hike there and they didn't get much of a greeting when they did. Mary was typing on her laptop as she leaned against a tree, only stopping to wave at them as they sat down on bench.

"Anything happen here?" Cerian asked rhetorically, not really expecting a response.

"Not really," Mary shrugged and looked back at her screen. "This company sure does have good security though. I haven't been able to get in yet."

"Why is that so unusual?" Ren asked as he took a drink of water. "Aren't these large corporations supposed to protect against people like you?"

"Well, yeah. In theory," Mary explained. "But most of the time they don't exactly follow through on promises."

"That still isn't so strange," Cerian added as he opened a small bag of chips. "Shouldn't they be commended for taking cyber security seriously for once?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mary sighed in exasperation. "But it had to be when we actually need to get in-hold on."

Cerian paused. "What is it?"

"Well, well," Mary looked surprised and began renewed typing. "I think I've found our XCOM hacker. Looks like they're trying to get inside as well."

Cerian put down the bag and walked over and kneeled down behind her shoulder. The screen was filled with lines of code, looked like some form of C++, though he couldn't be sure. It had been a while since he'd refreshed his knowledge on programming. "How are they doing?"

"Apparently as good as I am," Mary answered distractedly. "The issue isn't that I can't get in, it's just that it'll take a long time. We have time, but I'm guessing XCOM doesn't."

"If they create a breach, would we be able to go in as well?" Cerian questioned looking at her.

Mary pursed her lips and tapped her chin. "Unlikely…" she finally said. "Unless I knew exactly what they did to break in and could replicate it. For some reason, I'm not sure they'd share it with me."

"Would you be able to detect when they got in?" Cerian wondered, thinking. If they could…it might be a way for them to predict when XCOM would strike.

"No," Mary shook her head. "I'll be able to tell if they go offline or not, but not if they actually broke into the system. If they get in, the signal probably won't be any-"

A window on the screen popped up:

cout (User 1) Who is this?

cin _

The underscore flashed, apparently to allow her to respond. Well then. An interesting turn of events. Mary looked up at him. "What should I say?"

"This our XCOM hacker?" Cerian clarified, just to make sure.

"Positive," Mary nodded. "No one else is in the system."

"I won't dictate," Cerian told her. "Just let me see before you send it."

Mary nodded and returned to typing.

cout (User 2) An interested party.

They waited a few seconds until a response popped up.

cout (User 1) You'll have to be more specific.

Mary sighed and responded.

cout (User 2) I don't, actually. But I'm a freelancer if you must know.

cout (User 1) Touchy, but have it your way. Why are you interested?

Mary paused for a second.

cout (User 2) I could ask you that same question. What do you want?

cout (User 1) Answers.

Well, that did make some sense. Though it was still too vague to really read into it that much. Provided this person was even telling the truth. A new message popped up.

cout (User 1) And you?

Mary paused, looked into the air as she contemplated, then looked down and typed a response. Once it was typed, she looked up a Cerian for approval, He gave a nod.

cout (User 2) Someone I know went missing. I've tracked the culprits here.

There was a pause of a few seconds before a response popped up.

cout (User 1) Who are they?

cout (User 2) How do I know you're not with them?

cout (User 1) You don't, but we might share a common enemy.

"You think asking who is too blunt?" Mary asked, looking up at him.

Cerian rubbed his forehead. "No, not in this case." Mary nodded and returned to typing.

cout (User 2) And who is that?

cout (User 1) EXALT

Cerian's eyes widened. Now that was not what he was expecting. Mary seemed just as confused. "The hell is EXALT?"

"A myth," Cerian answered as he tried to figure out if it could be interpreted differently. "Or at least that's what everyone believes."

"Well, it seems real, whatever it is," Mary shrugged. "You think that's why they're here?"

"It's better than what we had before," Cerian admitted. "But it makes no sense. EXALT was a conspiracy debunked decades ago. But I don't know why XCOM would be interested in it now."

"Maybe it's something different?" Mary suggested. "I should reply before they get suspicious."

"Do it," he nodded. Mary was probably right, it was likely it was some other group that had taken the name for some reason. But then that still didn't answer the question of why XCOM was interested in them. They must have acted against them somehow to warrant this kind of reaction. Or maybe it was an alien program?

He glanced back at the screen where Mary typed her response.

cout (User 2) You know them?

cout (User 1) You could say I've had issues with them.

cout (User 1) Both of us want something from them. For now, we have the same goals. I suggest we align for the moment, get what we need and leave.

cout (User 2) How do I know I can trust you?

cout (User 1) You can't. But if it makes you feel better I've already tried to locate you and failed. Your identity will remain safe.

"Cheeky," Mary muttered. "Should I do it? This might be our only opportunity to get into the system."

"Can you ensure nothing will give us away?" Cerian asked.

"Yes," Mary nodded. "I'll be extra careful."

"Do it," Cerian ordered, standing up. Mary nodded and began typing. Cerian left her to her work and walked over and saw by his tent. EXALT. He wasn't foolish enough to believe it was actually the organization of myth, but if XCOM had decided they posed enough of a problem to warrant entire operations devoted against them, then they must be disruptive on some level.

So the next logical step was to find all known organizations that had something to do with the word EXALT. Patrick was going to love the next update. Well, XCOM was probably going to move on the company very soon now, so they had to be ready to watch and see what they were doing.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. Best get some sleep while he could.

"You think they'll notice they've never seen this vehicle before?" Abby asked as they drove up to the factory. The car they were driving was the only one that they'd been able to get and had taken them here in the first place. It wasn't the prettiest thing and fairly old, but it served well.

"You vastly overestimate the memory of the average security guard," Kalonymous chuckled without looking over at her. At least he was using his normal voice for now. "They only care if your ID passes inspection."

"Let's hope Akello made sure everything works," Abby muttered. After making contact with the mysterious hacker, they'd pooled their skills and had been able to penetrate the company network. Akello had used it to modify the personnel files to make sure they were in the system if questioned.

She hadn't been able to get much more than that, since going into the more encrypted files would undoubtedly tip them off that something was happening. But it had definitely made the infiltration easier.

"Akello is one of the best," Kalonymous assured her. "I wouldn't worry."

"Moment of truth," Abby muttered as they pulled up to the checkpoint and she got out her forged ID. Glancing down to ensure that the pack containing the transponder was tucked underneath her legs. Satisfied that it was, she looked over as Kalonymous lowered the window. One of the guards approached them.

"идентификация." He stated, extending a hand.

Kalonymous simply handed the ID badges over which he took and walked back to his station. A minute later he returned and handed them back with a nod. Stepping back, he waved them through as the gate opened.

"That went well," Abby commented, relieved, as they drove to the parking area.

"Don't get excited yet," Kalonymous cautioned as he parked and then unbuckled. "Wait till we're inside." They got out and approached through the employee entrance. The cards allowed them entry without incident and once they were inside they were greeted with a series of hallways with stark white lights and walls. Unpainted concrete floors extended as far as the hallways, though did seem to stop at the various exits.

"Floor plan should have us take a left," Abby recalled. "We did enter from the southeast employee entrance, right?"

"That we did," Kalonymous looked over at her, respect in his eyes. "I'm surprised you remembered so exactly."

She snorted. "I memorized every part of the human body. A building is trivial when compared to that."

"Very true," he started walking down the hallway and nodded in greeting as they passed some workers who barely nodded as they went past. They finally arrived at an elevator and pressed it to go up.

From the schematics, they were not going to be going into the main production area of the factory, just a very short, direct path to the security room. Once they took the elevator to the second floor, it would be several lefts and they'd have to use Kalonymous' security pass to go further.

In the event that the pass did not work, they'd try to enter manually and find some way to break in. Worst case scenario, they have to risk contacting Akello and having her force the doors to open. Which was extremely risky with all the security around and the greater chance that someone would intercept their conversation. She wouldn't put it past EXALT to have listening devices planted or have some way of intercepting signals.

They rode the elevator without incident and soon arrived at the hallways leading them to the entrance. It seemed fine until they realized there was a guard in front of the door. Both of the paused just before the hallway turned.

"Damn it," Kalonymous muttered under his breath. "This might be difficult."

"You think he'll let us pass?" Abby asked, just as quietly.

"Perhaps me," Kalonymous answered distractedly. "If you speak he'll know you're not a native. Here, hand me the pack in case I can't get you in."

She handed it over. "Worst case?"

Kalonymous shrugged. "We have to kill him."

On that cheery note, they rounded the corner and approached the guard. He wasn't heavily armed, just bearing a pistol strapped to his waist and wore an oddly formal suit. There were some odd attachments to his wrists and he had an odd looking eyepiece that extended over his left eye. The lens was blue and it flickered as they approached. Some kind of identification software? Did such a thing exist?

His hands were clasped behind his back, but he raised one in a clear signal to stop once they were close. "держитесь пожалуйста," he greeted in a surprisingly calm voice. Kalonymous stopped and Abby followed suit. He appraised them, first looking intently at Kalonymous and then at Abby.

After an uncomfortable timespan, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. "добро пожаловать. идентификация пожалуйста." He extended his hand and Kalonymous handed him their IDs. He turned his right arm up and slid the first card into a thin card reader into it. A few seconds later it flashed green and he pulled out and put the other one in with the same result.

With a nod, he gave the cards back to Kalonymous. "вы очищены, чтобы войти. не займет слишком много времени."

Kalonymous nodded towards him. "мы будем сделано в ближайшее время."

The guard turned to the door and slid his own card into a slot by the door. Abby could hear the click as it unlocked and he opened it and motioned them inside. Once they entered, Abby took a quick look around. The security room was surprisingly robust, it more closely resembled something that she'd see in XCOM Intelligence instead of a farming company.

All the equipment looked at the very least up to date. There were screens displaying various areas of the factory. The security personnel sat at chairs, making notes and performing other unseen tasks on their own computers. All of them were so focused on their work, they didn't even notice the two of them entering.

Abby slid the pack off her back and looked around. All that was really required was that it needed to be plugged into a power source. Akello had said it would go faster if it could also be plugged into one of the computers, but that wasn't a requirement. Still, they wouldn't have an opportunity like this for a long time.

She gave a wordless nod toward Kalonymous towards a computer at the far end. If Kalonymous could distract him for long enough, she'd be able to set up the transponder and connect it to the computer as well with a small chance of being noticed by anyone else.

Kalonymous seemed to get it and nodded, then began walking over to the security analyst. She hung out in the back, pretending to fiddle with one of the panels. She could hear him chatting in Russian, then there was the sound of a chair moving backward. Footsteps behind her, she waited until she felt the light gust of air as they passed her.

She waited a few seconds then walked over to the computer as casually as she could. Kneeling on the ground, she pulled out the transponder. No larger than a shoebox, it fit snugly over the computer, a very natural fit and one that wouldn't look out of place at all. She'd practiced this dozens of times last night and it paid off. She made almost no noise as she fitted it in place and began attaching the cords.

One. Two and…three. Now for the power. With a spark, the transponder flashed green from a small LED light. Online. She smiled to herself and rose to her feet and stepped back. No one had noticed and she casually made her way back to the panel. Perfect timing as well, since Kalonymous was walking back, having an intense conversation that she couldn't even begin to follow.

Kalonymous smiled and said what she assumed was goodbye and gave a small wave. The man responded similarly and went back to his place. "Online," she muttered, not looking at him. He simply smiled.

Once the man had returned to fully focusing on his job, they left. They passed the guard without incident and only until they were around the corner did Abby breathe a sigh of relief. They'd done the hard part, all they had to do now was get out.

But she didn't think they had anything to worry about now.

"I guess we know why they were interested in that guy," Olivia commented as they walked back. "At least, I'm assuming they used his ID to get inside."

"And out," Cerian added as he slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Very smoothly, I might add."

"Hopefully Mary is tracking them now," Olivia said hopefully as she cast a wistful glance up. When Cerian had made the shot containing the tracking chip, she'd been skeptical it could have been done. The look on her face had been worth it. "Though what are we going to do with this? I doubt they'll be there for much longer."

"It'll serve perfectly fine for the moment," Cerian reassured her. "I want to at least try and learn what XCOM is doing here before I update Patrick. Until then, knowing their location is enough."

"And what happens if they find the tracker?" Olivia asked curiously, looking over. "They aren't exactly amateurs."

"Which is why I invest in the best gear possible," Cerian reminded her. "Trust me, if they find that tracker I'm getting a refund. That thing was insanely expensive and my shot placed it somewhere they won't look."

Olivia shrugged. "If you say so, boss. You think Mary found anything?"

"Hopefully." Mary had been working on accessing some of the more encrypted files when they'd left. She'd apparently had to be careful so as "not to arouse suspicion" whatever that meant. Hopefully it meant that she had something.

As they walked in silence for a few minutes, Cerian kept noticing Olivia looking at him occasionally. She finally broke the silence. "You've done this a lot before, haven't you?"

Ah, so it was going to be this talk. "I did. For many years in fact."

"So…" she paused. "What did you do? Just reconnaissance?"

"Occasionally," he answered honestly. "But I was used mostly for my skills as an assassin."

She turned her head sharply. "Really…" she answered cautiously, clearly not sure how to respond. "For the UN?"

"Does that surprise you?" He asked humorlessly, even though his lips were curled into a smile. "That the UN could employ people in such a despicable position?"

"I didn't mean-" She began.

"No, it's fine," Cerian cut her off. "Trust me. I wasn't a fan of the way my skills were often used, but to be fair, they didn't use them often. The times they did ask me, they had usually tried every alternative, at least later. When their initial methods failed, they turned to me."

"So who did you go after?" Olivia asked after a few seconds.

"Whoever posed a threat to innocent lives," Cerian answered, recalling the faces of his targets. "That wasn't a UN mandate either. That was my personal goal. And if my targets didn't meet that standard in some way, I refused."

"You refused the UN?" Olivia asked incredulously. "How did you still keep your job?"

"The first time, I didn't," Cerian explained, this time glancing over with a genuine smile. "They wanted me to take out some African leader who was openly turning his country into a dictatorship. Once that was accomplished, this man started a little crusade against them; openly spiting them and refusing to even talk. The UN had supposedly tried everything and wanted to remove the problem and bring "freedom" back to the country."

Cerian adjusted his rifle as it started to slip from his shoulder. "Thing was, he was a democratically elected leader who just so happened to despise the UN. He wasn't doing anything against the citizen or oppressing them in any way. It didn't take long to really figure out why he was so hostile; he was afraid the UN was going to take over his country and impose their rules."

"Were they?" Olivia asked.

"At least some," Cerian guessed. "Anyway, as you've probably guessed, I didn't shoot the guy. I went back to command, told them why I didn't and what approach should be taken in negotiating with this man. They didn't like that and kicked me out. I'd kind of expected that and already had some other things lined up. But, lo and behold, they called within the week asking for me to return."

"So what happened?" Olivia asked, taking a candy bar out of her back pocket and starting to eat.

"Someone in the UN actually took my advice," Cerian answered. "The UN was approaching the entirety of the negotiations wrong. They were making demands, not looking to work with him. So, once they changed their tactics, he suddenly became a lot more receptive when he knew the sovereignty of his country wouldn't be threatened."

"How did no one figure that out before?" Olivia wondered, pursing her lips in bewilderment.

"Because for some, compromise is a sign of weakness," Cerian answered. "Especially with an organization like the UN. To have one little country stand up and demand the UN treats them as equals implies that the UN is weak. So if intimidation and threats fail, assassination is the obvious next course of action," Cerian laced his fingers together. "But sometimes, swallowing your pride and recognizing that you're not the center of the world is good for all parties."

Cerian sighed. "But honestly, I think that they respected me taking a stand, even if I didn't make it easy for them. Now, that obviously didn't happen every time, but I do think that I helped ensure that assassination was only used as a true last resort."

"Huh," Olivia looked away. "You really never struck me as the assassin type."

Cerian snorted. "And just what is the 'assassin type?' Having walls full of guns? Plotting in a dark room in an overly dramatic voice?"

"No," Olivia answered, ignoring his sarcastic answer. "You're not emotionless, not…cold or mechanical," she glanced over. "I'm serious. I've taken down several assassins and they all exhibit similar characteristics."

Cerian pursed his lips. "You took down hitmen. Assassins are those who remove threats to the population by lethal force as a last resort. Hitman remove targets indiscriminately regardless of whether it's right or not. Some do it on orders, others are paid, but they are not assassins."

"That's the first time anyone's actually tried to make it sound noble," Olivia commented neutrally.

"I wouldn't say noble," Cerian corrected. "Though I did try to bring some respectability to the profession. There is a stigma attached that will probably never fade. And I don't have an issue with that, it does act as something of a deterrent to governments who are considering utilizing it."

"I never really thought of it that way before," Olivia admitted, looking forward as they kept walking. "Learn something new every day."

"You were an MI6, correct?" Cerian recalled. "You must be familiar with this kind of work too?"

"I was mostly the woman sent in once the spies had located a hideout or group of criminals," Olivia answered. "I didn't do as much sneaking around as this. It's an interesting change of pace."

"You seem to be adapting fine," Cerian complemented. "It'll get more exciting later."

"Hey, don't jinx it," Olivia commented lightly. "In this line of work, exciting usually means us getting shot at or dying horribly."

"True, true," Cerian chuckled. "I hope Darril or Ren made some food."

Olivia shuddered. "I…hope not. I have yet to meet a man in the military that knows how to cook something other than ramen."

"Well, aren't you generalizing," Cerian said, trying to sound sarcastic, yet offended. "I'll have you know that I'm not a bad cook."

She snorted. "You don't count. You had your own home and kitchen. I'd be worried if you weren't halfway competent."

"Hey, Cerian!" Mary called over as they approached, waving them over.

"Is there food?" Cerian asked as he knelt down by Mary.

She looked up, confused. "What? No. But that doesn't matter. I've found a lot of interesting things here."

"Like what?" Cerian asked, sitting on the ground.

"There is a lot of money being processed through here," Mary emphasized. "We're talking in the billions of American dollars."

"Is it illegal?" Cerian asked, frowning.

"Technically, no…" Mary answered slowly. "But the thing is, they're not making digital transfers. Several of the payments come in the form of liquid assets. So not money per-se. There are several suspect companies, but I want you to guess who their biggest customer is. Go on, guess."

Cerian sighed, but figured it was worth indulging her especially since she'd done exceptionally. "First, are we talking governments or strictly corporations?"

"Business, corporations, whatever," she waved her hand. "But no governments, thankfully."

"Fine," he sighed. "Let's say…I don't know, the NRA?"

"Closer than you think," Mary answered with a smile. "Solaris Industries."

"The American weapons manufacturer?" Olivia asked incredulously. "They just signed an agreement with the United States military."

"That they did," Mary nodded, sounding very self-satisfied. "And if you notice, all of their payments are in the form of assets. And I just wonder what sorts of assets they're paying with?"

A shell company. So, this put a whole new light onto why XCOM was interested. "We need to shut this place down," Cerian said. "We need to get everything this company has."

"How do you want to do that?" Mary asked, biting her lip. "I mean, it's going to be hard to prove this without evidence, and while these records do show highly suspicious activity, I don't think it's enough for a conviction."

"Then don't do it officially," Cerian ordered. "Send it to the Russians. I think they'd be very interested in knowing a weapon smuggling ring is thriving in their country. If they act, the UN can then ask to become involved officially."

"What about Patrick?" Olivia asked.

"I'll update him too," Cerian nodded. "But the UN can't act and move without Russian approval. Shutting this place down will go quicker if the Russians do it on their own."

"Will do," Mary nodded. "It'll be done soon."

"Excellent work," he complemented. "All of you. I think we all deserve a short break."

There was a chorus of agreement and they all settled in for the night, proud they had achieved at least something of a victory.

Three Days Later

"The tracker we managed to place on the outgoing trucks matches up with the records we've received from the transmitter," Ruth updated for Zhang who watched from Akello's computer screen. "If I had to guess, I'd think this is EXALT storage area of some kind. You'll have to use the satellites to be sure."

Zhang gave a brief nod. "Good. I will inform the Commander. Are you continuing to receive information from the transmitter?"

"Yes, Director," Akello confirmed. "We're getting more every day. Much of what we recovered has other leads we can follow up on. Kalonymous is going through them now."

"Most of them are in Russian," Abby added. "I've been working on the ones in English."

"Anything of note?" Zhang inquired, looking down at something in his hand.

"There are heavy financial ties to Solaris Industries," Abby continued. That particular bit of information had come as a surprise to her, and also kind of made her sad. She didn't care much for the corporation itself, but she respected Matthew, the man who ran it. He seemed the standard for what people in business should be. She might not agree with all of his positions, but at least she could respect him from how he treated others.

She wondered how far up it went. Matthew didn't seem the type to be involved in something like this, but it had to be someone pretty high up given the amount of money being spent. Well, that was for Zhang and the Commander to decide what to do with this information.

Zhang didn't react much to the new, though that seemed to be standard for him. "A concerning piece of intel," he mused, actually sounding concerned for once. "Especially since Solaris Industries is slowly becoming the largest weapons manufacturer in the United States, both financially and politically. Is there any indication Mr. Solaris himself could be involved?"

"I didn't find any names," Abby answered with a sigh. "Personally, Matthew doesn't seem the type to do this. But with the amount of money being spent…I don't know. It has to be someone very high up in the company."

"I'll keep that in mind," Zhang promised. "Your work is done here. I want you to converge on this EXALT facility and scope out the area before our attack."

Ruth frowned. "An attack? So soon? We might be able to get more-"

"We have enough information to begin investigating other leads," Zhang interrupted coldly. "Aside from that, this attack will send a message to EXALT. One of retaliation."

Abby frowned, a wave of cold swept over her. That didn't sound good at all. "What happened?"

"We made contact with EXALT military forces," Zhang answered grimly. "They ambushed us and drove us away. We lost three soldiers and the Commander feels that a retaliation strike would serve as an excellent start to our counter-attack."

"Damn," Ruth muttered. "In that case, we'll have something by the end of the day. They still don't know we're here, so I wouldn't expect much resistance."

"We'll be waiting," Zhang finished and ended the call.

Ruth strode over to where Kalonymous was sitting down. "All right, we're heading out now. Do your reading on the way."

"Yes, miss Shira," he responded in a patronizing tone as he reluctantly got to his feet.

Within a half hour, they'd packed up all their gear and were in the car and driving in the direction of the EXALT facility. At first Abby had found the scenery rather beautiful, but now it didn't grab her attention like before. It was just another hill, tree or valley.

"Everyone wave goodbye as we pass," Kalonymous joked as they went past the factory for, hopefully, the last time. The smile on his face slowly faded and his hand lowered. "The hell?"

Abby looked over in the direction of the factory and blinked. The area was swarming with Russian soldiers. At least a couple dozen with military trucks and cars parked in the lots.

"Oh, that's not good." She breathed. Well, there went any chance of the upcoming raid being easy. EXALT would be a high alert now, and would cut any kind of intel to the factory, effectively removing any chance to learn more from their files.

"Really, Russia?" Akello asked to no one in particular. "You had to pick now of all times to move on the company?"

"If this wasn't going to negatively impact them, I'd almost wonder if they were doing this on purpose," Kalonymous commented as he drove past. "Seriously, this is going to make things much more difficult."

"How did they even know?" Abby wondered.

"My guess is that they've been watching for a while," Ruth answered, pursing her lips. "And it's just our bad luck that they decided to move now."

"Guess we'll have to make do," Kalonymous said with a sigh. "Zhang is just going to love this."

"On the bright side, at least there'll be more EXALT soldiers to kill," Ruth suggested. "Let's hope everyone's up to the task."

On that happy note, Abby settled in for the long drive over. Half-nervous, half in anticipation for the fight ahead.

Supplementary Material

XCOM Operative Alien Handbook: "Thin Man"

OVERVIEW: The alien that soldiers within XCOM have referred to as the "Thin man," was first encountered early in the invasion during a mission into China. True to its name, the initial incarnation of the alien was unnatural thin and disproportionate to human standards of physical appearance. While the aliens have continued to improve upon this particular species, their overall role has not changed, which is primarily infiltration and espionage.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION AND CAPABILITIES: Thin Men are currently classified as one of three types. The first of them is referred to as a Generation I Thin Man (Gen-1), the second as a Generation II (Gen-2) Thin Man and the final as a Generation III (Gen-3) Thin Man.

Generation I Thin Man: These exist as the alien's first attempt to create human doppelgangers to infiltrate our species. While the disguise could pass from a distance, even regular civilians would be able to spot obvious clues as to this creatures extraterrestrial origins.

Generation I Thin Men stand exactly 1.95 meters and have unusually thin arms, legs and torsos. They resemble a typical Caucasian with short black hair. They tend to walk jerkily, as if the body they wear is unusual to them. Their heads have clearly larger skulls than the average human and are disproportionate to the face itself, spots of some kind also adorn its neck, making it easy to spot. The eyes are also reptilian, a clear clue that the aliens have not been able to remove. The aliens attempted to negate the obvious physical differences by having these Gen-1 Thin Men wear various hats, sunglasses and high –collared clothing.

To date, there has not been a recorded instance of a Gen-1 Thin Man communicating with other humans in a recognizable human language. They have been observed communication via shrieks and wails. It is unknown if this is their primary method of communicating. To date, all encountered Gen-1 Thin Men have been male and are almost identical in appearance. Genetic observation performed by Dr. Moira Vahlen has confirmed that these are not clones like the Sectoid species, but rather, a complete, intrusive and total genetic modification.

Gen-1 Thin Men are capable of wielding all types of weaponry and are particularly good shots. They also have the ability to spit a lethal toxin at soldiers. It is unknown how often they can utilize this ability. Gen-1 Thin Men are exceptionally agile and can leap great distances and survive falls that would kill most humans. Due to their lack of armor, only one or two shots are needed to kill them. It should be noted that upon death, some Gen-1 Thin Men emit the toxin they shoot around their corpse, rendering the immediate area toxic.

Note 1: Gen-1 Thin Men are most likely to be encountered in combat situations. The reason for this is unknown.

Generation II Thin Men: These exist as the second, and more refined version of this species. While the alien does tend to stay around a height of 1.8 meters, there is a far greater range of diversity between the bodies recovered. Based on the bodies recovered, the aliens seemingly have the ability to modify skin color, hair color, essentially every factor of appearance with the exception of the eyes, which still retain their reptilian look.

Gen-2 Thin Men are far better proportioned, though a careful analysis will note some lingering thinness in their arms and legs, though the aliens have negated this physical abnormality by having the thin men wear clothing that covers the arms and legs. The head has also been improved, and is nearly indistinguishable from an actual human. The spots that adorned the neck of Gen-1 Thin Men have been removed, improving the alien's ability to infiltrate.

A curious characteristic of the Gen-2 Thin Man is that this is the only recorded alien communicating in a human language. They appear to have the ability to adopt languages and accents to solidify their cover and allow for a deadlier ambush. They are capable to posing as male and female humans and retain the abilities of Gen-1 Thin Men in terms of combat and agility.

Generation III Thin Men: To date, there has never been a documented encounter of a Gen-3 Thin Man. This entry is merely theoretical, hypothesizing the next evolution of this alien species. A Gen-3 Thin man would be identical to a human in every way, and be capable of independent interaction and high-profile infiltration and espionage.

It follows that the Gen-3 Thin Man would retain the agility and abilities of Gen-2 Thin Men, if not improve upon them. What this would entail is theoretical and impossible to predict due to the high genetic mutability of this alien. It is not implausible for the aliens to use a Gen-3 Thin Man to replace a prominent human figure, political or military leader.

Note 2: Please note again that this section is theoretical. There has not been any indication that the aliens have, or are developing, Gen-3 Thin Men.

Note 3: While rare, a variation on the Gen-1 Thin Man has been spotted in several missions. This Thin Man appears to have been created for the purposes of long-range combat. These "Thin Man Snipers" wield plasma sniper rifles and have had cybernetic enhancements to their eyes and head, presumably to improve coordination and aim. It is also worth noting that these Thin Men are often slightly more armored than usual.

STRENGTHS:

1. Plasma Weaponry: Despite advances in XCOM technology, plasma weapons are still more dangerous than any firearm developed on Earth. The damages this weapon can cause are extensive and often fatal.

Counter: While not the strongest variant of plasma weaponry the aliens utilize, the plasma carbine that Thin Men of both generations wield is dangerous in any situation and lethal at close range. While XCOM had made strides in armor to render a single shot non-lethal, it is not recommended you test the armor for repeated shots.

2. Agility: The Thin Men of both generations are exceptionally agile and are able to leap distances of up to ten feet or more (That have been recorded). They have also been observed leaping from four story buildings without injuring themselves, offering them a massive tactical advantage in a prolonged battle.

Counter: It is advised that soldiers wielding laser weaponry use sustained beams in horizontal cuts by the legs to make it difficult for the thin man to dodge conventionally. Usage of flash-bangs has also been observed to be effective in limiting their agility.

3. Infiltration (Gen-2 Only): Due to the alien's improvement and genetic manipulation, these thin men are able to blend into crowds with greater ease, rendering the chance for a surprise attack extremely, especially in crowded areas.

Counter: Despite advances in appearance, Gen-2 Thin Men do retain some of the jerky walk that plagued the Gen-1 Thin Men. While much more subtle, it is consistent and should be easy to spot. As the aliens have not been able to fix the eyes, watch for eyewear that covers the pupil, especially in odd places or times such as at night, a cloudy day, or indoors.

4. Toxin: The Thin Man has the ability to spit toxin at a small area. The toxin acts as both a poison and an acid and is lethal to unarmored individuals caught in it's radius. It is also theorized that because of this ability, Thin Men are immune to poisons and toxic gases.

Counter: Step away from the field as quickly as possible and quickly spray all wounds with a med-kit which is capable of neutralizing the toxin quickly and safely. Alternatively, kill the Thin Man before he has a chance to spit at you in the first place.

WEAKNESSES:

1. Unarmored: The Thin Man wears little to no armor due to it's primary role as an infiltration and espionage unit. The most protection is various civilian clothing. Laser weaponry is effective and will cut into them will virtually no resistance. They are also vulnerable to environmental hazards such as fire and electricity.

2. Support Grenades: Thin Men are vulnerable to the flash-bang, as it will disrupt their ability to focus and move as quickly. Offensively used smoke grenades are also effective for disrupting a group of Thin Men.

TACTICS:

1. Laser Trap: Due to the Thin Men lacking much armor or protection, a laser traps is particularly effective. Simply sustain lasers for no more than five seconds and aim as directed by the Squad Overseer. Use in open or uncovered spaces for maximum effectiveness.

2. Flank: Have two to three soldiers suppress a group of Thin Men in cover. As they do this, a second team will move around the side (Determined by the Squad Overseer), and open fire on the exposed aliens. Use on contained or clustered groups for maximum effectiveness.

3. Offensive Smoke Grenade: Throw a smoke grenade into the midst of a group of Thin Men. Ensure that the HUD is set to filter out smoke, allowing a clear view of the exposed sectoids. If they are exposed, fire. If not, use this opportunity to advance into a better position. Use on contained or clustered groups for maximum effectiveness.

4. Flash-Bang: Throw a flash-bang to negate agility and cause disorientation. Additionally, this opportunity may be used to advance to a better position. Use on thin men in superior cover or who are contained or clustered.

PSIONICS: To date, there have been no recorded instances of Thin Men of any generation utilizing psionic abilities.