XCOM: The Atlas Protocol

by Xabiar

After the destruction of the dreadnought, tensions between XCOM and the Council are higher than ever. Despite growing opposition and oversight, the Commander doesn't hesitate to push humanity further into uncharted territory, as well as dealing with an ancient global conspiracy, and a growing number of countries looking to take advantage of an invasion that is only just beginning.

14. EXALT Raid: Russia

EXALT Raid: Russia

---

The Bastion, Communications Center

"Progress on the alien metals and weapons is proceeding well," Diguon updated, his hands clasped behind his back as he updated Saudia. "Thanks to the XCOM gear Zara recovered, we should begin to match XCOM within weeks."

Zara snorted, causing her hologram to shimmer for a moment. "You better. I lost a lot of good soldiers to them. We barely managed to make it out before that airstrike. Speaking of which, that might have been helpful to know beforehand."

"We didn't know XCOM would raze the area," Saudia defended, pursing her lips. "Had we known that, you would have as well."

Diguon glanced at Zara, dispassionately as ever. "But you did make it out. How close it was doesn't matter. Aside from that, the barricades worked exactly as expected."

"Yes, excellent job on that," Saudia commended, inclining her head towards him. "Both of you performed exceptionally and handed XCOM a resounding defeat."

"As is our job, Director,"Diguon acknowledged, lowering his head.

Zara wasn't quite as thrilled, at least from her posture. Her crossed arms and intense, almost angrygaze didn't exactly scream pleased. "I wouldn't celebrate too soon, Mercado," she warned, jabbing a finger at Diguon. "We might have won that battle, but only because they weren't expecting us. Five of them managed to kill more of my soldiers in one battle than in the past five years combined."

"I thought there were six soldiers?" Saudia recalled from the report.

"I'm not counting the one that was blown up by our rocketeers," Zara clarified, taking a step back.

Fair enough. Saudia could understand that, but for this particular engagement, it was less about the soldiers lost and more about defeating XCOM. She did mourn for their loss, but they had died for the cause, and she would never forget that. "Our next attack will go much smoother," Saudia reassured Zara, raising her hands as if placating her. "Especially when Diguon and Darian develop more equipment from the alien tech."

"Assuming of course that we dictate when the next conflict is," Zara contested, taking a step toward Saudia, who fixed her with a glare. "You really think XCOM is just going to ignore what we did? They'll be hunting us now, especially now that we've given them a reason to do so."

"As if our previous encounters weren't incentive enough? I'm well aware XCOM will seek retaliation for this," Saudia answered calmly, her cold eyes boring into Zara's intense ones. "But the fact is that they will not be able to instigate a fight without us knowing about it. They do not have our reach or resources. XCOM cannot effectively fight a war on two fronts. Elizabeth has assured me that her people have not found any evidence of XCOM or the United Nations espionage of us, let alone tampering with our equipment. All operations are proceeding normally."

Diguon pursed his lips. "That…is not quite accurate, Director. One of our Russian companies has recently come under investigation from the Russian government."

Saudia frowned, that news was new to her. "How?"

"Elizabeth and I are working on that question now," Diguon answered grimly, as he stroked his chin. "But I wouldn't ascribe this to XCOM right away. While unlikely, it's possible that the Russians have been watching it for some time and have decided to act now."

"Right after we hand XCOM a defeat?" Zara demanded sarcastically, crossing her arms again. "Pretty interesting coincidence."

"If it is XCOM, then they should be ashamed of revealing their hand so early," Saudia commented, shaking her head. "Because now we know someone is investigating. And we can prepare for that."

"That we can," Diguon agreed, picking up a tablet from an off-screen table. "All our Russian outposts are on high alert in case someone does show up at any of them."

"Good to know. Now, as for the company, how much was compromised?" Saudia demanded. "I presume all the protocols were followed?"

"To the letter," Diguon assumed her with a sharp nod. "All our sensitive documents were purged and replaced with dummy ledgers. The Russians, and anyone else, will find nothing incriminating, let alone information that would trace them to us."

"Do you know what tipped them off in the first place?"

"Our sources within the administration have told me that FIS acquired documents," Diguon answered, referring to Russia's Intelligence branch. "Unfortunately, we don't know exactly what they contain. But I do know that the source was anonymous."

That was good, it made things much easier. "Good to hear," she nodded, reassured that things would be brought under control. "The Russians will find everything in order and assume the documents were forged."

"Most likely, at least officially," Diguon nodded warily. "Although, this might not go away as quickly as we hope. Elizabeth told me that the President has apparently taken an interest in this investigation."

That, on the other hand, was not good. Even if the investigation itself was closed. "Tell Elizabeth I want this confirmed," Saudia ordered, beginning to pace as she considered possible responses. "The last thing I want is the Russians interfering."

"Why would he take an interest?" Zara asked, looking confused. "Unless…"

"He knows something about us, or at least suspects," Diguon finished as he set the tablet down on a table. "A possibility. But one I'm not concerned with at the moment. The President is overly paranoid and if he'd ever suspected us, I'd think we'd been receiving much more interference."

"The Russians will be dealt with in time, and I trust Elizabeth and you will keep this contained," Saudia said as she laid her hands on the wooden table in the middle of the room. "We have more immediate matters to deal with. Returning to the subject of XCOM, they need to be distracted now. I'm going to be speaking with our alien allies in a short time and begin our first coordinated attacks on North America."

"And what is the focus going to be?" Zara asked. "Tactics or terror?"

"I have some locations that will accomplish both," Saudia answered. "It involves the chryssalids."

Zara shuddered at that, and even Diguon looked disconcerted. "We want to wound North America, not destroy her," Diguon pointed out. "If you suggest that aliens use the chryssalids, you might unleash a plague that could interfere with our future plans."

"I'm well aware of that," Saudia answered. "Which is why the locations will not be in major city centers. North America will not be damaged irrevocably. But this will help spread terror and influence the coming election in the USA."

"And if XCOM interferes?" Zara demanded.

Saudia's lips curled into a smile. "XCOM cannot be everywhere."

"Better if we 'accidentally' leak one of the attack locations," Diguon suggested. "They'll be focused on that and fail to look for more disturbances."

"Exactly," Saudia nodded. "And now for something that should increase our own research advances, I'm going to approach this Richard Tygan and recruit him for our cause."

"You sure he's worth the risk?" Zara asked, cocking her head. "I don't feel comfortable allowing an untested and unscreened man into our organization, much less a scientist."

"The science and our goals for the aliens will be enough to bring him in," Saudia answered. "He's young and wants to help. How better to help humanity than turn their tech against them?"

"If Matthew thinks he'd work, that's good enough," Diguon nodded. "Still, sudden recruitments aren't done for a reason."

Saudia sighed. "Unfortunately, we have little choice if we want to gain a time advantage. Should he prove troublesome, he will be disposed of. The world will not miss one geneticist."

"Keep me informed," Zara said as she stepped back. "I'll let you have your conversation with our alien allies now. Until next time, Director."

Her hologram faded and a few seconds later, Diguon's did as well. That meeting concluded, it was time to being the next one. A few minutes later, the image of the Speaker appeared, looking as smug and collected as ever.

That little smirk on his face aggravated her for some reason. It screamed of superiority over everyone else. She wouldn't mind removing it in various ways, but that wasn't the goal for today.

"Greetings, Director," the Speaker inclined his head in her direction, the words rolling smoothly off his alien tongue. "On behalf of the Elders, I would like to congratulate you on your victory over XCOM."

"Thank you, Speaker," She answered courteously; falsely. "XCOM put up a good fight, but in the end they succumbed to us."

"One of their more admirable traits," the Speaker agreed, giving his eerie smile. "They are excellent soldiers, if nothing else. We are pleased to see our alliance is being…rewarded."

For now, for now. That would change soon. But now, they still needed the aliens on their side. "If I might make a suggestion," Saudia began. "I have an idea for a potential attack that would strike a blow against North America."

The Speaker cocked his head in clear interest. "A continent composed of several influential nations, curious. Please continue."

"That it is," Saudia agreed. "Now, as for my plan. Have you heard of the island of Newfoundland?"

---

The Bastion, Subject Cells

It was slow going, but she was getting better at it every day. Annette had been able to replicate her brief mind control over the guard several times, but wasn't able to maintain it for very long when doing so. She still didn't know the finer details of it either, such as how to make sense of the rush of images, sensations, words and feelings that rushed through the mind.

Annette knelt on the floor and started breathing deeply. This had become a habitual position for her whenever she attempted to use the mental powers at her disposal. Her preliminary plan at the moment was simple: extract every piece of information she could from the guards, or anyone else who came her way. Then, once she had it, plan an escape and execute it by controlling the guards.

The only roadblocks she was having were actually finding memories or anything specific, really. She wasn't quite sure how she could ever make sense of it, but she knew that it was her only chance of escape. Following and reading current thoughts were easy now, ever since she'd listened to the voices, it hadn't taken long to figure out that they were the current thoughts of people.

She'd assumed that they were trying to communicate with her when that wasn't the case; all she was doing was simply hearing them. Distance also seemed to affect how strong or weak they were; she could follow a conversation between the two guards in front of her cell as if she was there, but she had to strain if she wanted to listen to some guy a couple stories above her.

The flood of information had been overwhelming at first, and in fact, still was. At best she could only pay attention to only two streams of thought. Conversations were easiest, but individual streams were also possible, albeit those caused her more awful headaches. But a useful side effect was that she'd learned how to block out most of the voices instinctually, allowing her to sleep moderately well for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Another benefit of listening to the voices was that now, it was if some barrier had been broken, allowing her to access her power in a more physical manner. She was getting better at summoning the energy at will, though was deliberately keeping it as contained as possible. EXALT were watching, after all.

EXALT. That word had been used in such strange contexts by various people's thoughts until she'd finally figured out that it wasn't being used as a word, it was a name. A name that was responsible for her capture. A name that meant nothing, but at least she had a name for her enemy.

XCOM. That was another word she'd noted being used more recently. Apparently, EXALT had won some battle against them, and she wasn't sure what that meant. Were there new wars breaking out? Which countries did these organizations belong to? Oddly enough, she couldn't tell just from the streams of thought alone.

Most of it was in English, but she'd noted streams in Chinese and Russian, which implied EXALT was a multinational, or at least multilingual, organization. Maybe. She still wasn't entirely sure. But one thing that was incredibly odd was the constant references to 'aliens.' If she didn't know that was impossible, she'd have guessed there was actually an invasion happening.

"Alien" must be some slang for an illegal immigrant, they were sometimes called that in America and she'd heard it occasionally in France as well. So…did it mean that this was some kind of alt-right anti-immigrant organization? It did sort of work, the name EXALT could appeal to some kind of nationalist pride.

But that didn't explain why they were conducting experiments on her and others. What purpose could that ever serve? She hadn't been able to figure out where she was yet, but it was only a matter of time before someone's thoughts wandered and let something slip. The only issue was that she'd have to be listening.

As her breathing became steady she closed her eyes and let everything wash over her. The easiest way to envision a black void and then it would begin to fill with 'signals.' Distance was important here, but did not translate into the real world. Nothing was linear here and the minds of the two men guarding her could be in random places in the void.

Based on the strength of the signals, she could also determine how many people were in her general area. She detected twelve right now, most of the guards, but there was one who she was fairly certain was another prisoner like herself. She'd considered trying to….contact him or her or do something but she wasn't sure if it was a trap or not. Or how they'd react to someone else entering their mind without their permission. They might know some kind of defense and could hurt her in a way she couldn't stop.

She had to get more adapt at this mind reading skill before attempting to contact another potential psionic. In the meantime-

She gasped. There was someone new, someone whose mind was…cold, closed, focused. Her eyes snapped open and she quickly shook her head. She'd never felt that sensation before, everything usually flowed and was smooth. Not whoever this person was. She felt the familiar call of the power within her as the familiar feeling of fear entered her.

Almost instinctually, a faint purple pulse traveled down her left arm and her hand stiffened as purple sparks jumped from her fingers. She consciously relaxed and began breathing deeply again. Releasing the power was tempting, but she didn't want to do anything until this person was gone. Slowly, her hand relaxed and she looked down at it, observing the tears in her flesh already beginning to heal.

It was interesting how it no longer hurt as much. She supposed that repeated usage had led to her becoming desensitized to it. Something she wasn't too sad about. With a squeak the door opened and in walked a man flanked by her two guards.

She'd never seen him before, that she was certain. Short brown hair and a stern face that was impenetrable. Something seemed wrong with one of his eyes, almost like it was…fake? No, it was moving and blinking and the pupils seemed to work. An artificial one? Did that exist?

"Subject Four," He said with a deep, yet neutral voice. "Please turn around."

She swallowed. She could hear the voices and one that sounded remarkably like his among them, but she was too nervous to concentrate. "What are you going to do?" She asked, her voice cracked as she recalled she hadn't actually spoken to anyone in…days, or was it weeks? The only usage it had received was when she screamed.

"That is not your concern," he answered, fixing her with a cold stare. "You are not to be executed if that is what you're wondering."

In fact, that had been what she was wondering. But she was sick of taking orders. "No," she spat, crossing her arms. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He didn't even look annoyed. "Suit yourself." He said and one of the guards pressed a button on his wrist. She screamed as the electrical current ran through her body, the white hot pain forcing her to the ground and causing her vision to flicker. It stopped a few seconds later and she was blearily aware of the man behind her forcing her arms behind her back and restraining them.

With what seemed like no effort, he hauled her to her feet. Once she was up, she took a few shaky steps to get reoriented, her mind still swimming. Disoriented, she stumbled forward when he grabbed her left arm and lead her out of the cell. She should have just come instead of trying to be defiant, especially since this would have been a perfect time to try and notice details about the building for when she could escape.

Unfortunately, now she was too dizzy to make any sort or observations, only stumble forward as they led her around corners, up elevators and down stairs. After a while she was mostly recovered, though she still feigned weakness so they wouldn't be suspicious. They were approaching another glass chamber, though this one seemed…different.

It was a massive square enclosed by floor-to-ceiling glass. Objects, boxes and other things were scattered around inside, along with three other people who looked as exhausted, wounded and beaten as her. Other prisoners? Were they also psionic?

The men opened the glass door and tossed her inside. Giving him a hateful glance, she turned her attention to the others now with her. Two men and one woman. One of the men was light-skinned and has short brown hair. He was pretty large, towering over the other two. He might have been former military, probably from America or the EU perhaps?

The other two were clearly related in some way, though she couldn't tell if they were siblings or a couple. Their brown skin seemed to indicate they had Middle Eastern origins. The man was tall, though not nearly as much as the other man. He had short black hair and a oddly neat beard. EXALT must have provided some kind of shaving or cutting tools for the men. Oddly considerate.

The woman looked the weakest out of all of them. Annette was certain she was taller and she looked physically frail. Petite. Annette was somewhat surprised she was still alive. She wouldn't have pegged her as one to make it through. Her black hair fell just beyond her shoulders, but was very untidy.

She began to walk toward them and stopped. EXALT were undoubtable listening and she didn't want anyone to hear the questions she was going to ask. But there was a way that might be possible. She closed her eyes and focused on the closest voices to her. Yep, they were all definitely different from the regular voices. Much more defined and easy to locate.

She focused on one of the men. She'd never tried communicating before, so she figured a greeting might be a good start. Hey, she projected towards the man, trying to draw as much attention as possible. She knew what made the voices stand out to her, but wasn't sure if it was universal or not. Can you hear me?

There was a fluctuation in his thought stream, a moment where everything stopped. She felt the briefest flicker of surprise. What is this? The voice had an unfamiliar accent, so she was pretty sure she was talking to the Middle Eastern man.

I'm the one who just walked in, Annette answered, and despite the risk ofdistraction, she opened her eyes and nodded toward the man who was now looking at her. He cocked his head and gave the briefest of nods. I figured it was safer to communicate this way, Annette explained. They're always listening.

The man shifted, bumping into the woman who looked up at him and then her. So you can do it too, he communicated. Perhaps we all can.

She didn't bother to hide her confusion, and closed her eyes as she felt the connection wavering. What?

Hear people's thoughts, influence them. I can't really contact as you're doing, but I can respond.

What is your name? A new, female voice entered her mind. It must be the woman.

Annette. She answered

Fatima, the woman communicated. I think you're communicating with my husband.

Annette instinctively nodded, trying to focus on both minds. Yes, what's his name?

Said, she responded. Tell him I say hello, so he'll know we're communicating.

Ok. Annette focused on Said's thought stream. Your wife says hello.

Fast of her, he commented, she thought she detected some faint trace of amusement. Good to meet you…Annette. I wondered if we were the only ones left.

I think we are, Annette answered. But I don't know. Who's the other man next to you?

Matthew, was the answer. He's not as good at communicating. Not as talented as us in that respect.

"Would you stop that?" A new voice said aloud. Annette scowled and opened her eyes as she looked at Matthew who she assumed was the one who'd spoken. "It's nice you can do that," he continued in a softer voice. "But it's going to look odd if we just stand here looked silently at each other."

He did have a point. The last thing she wanted was to have EXALT figure out their mental abilities. Because then they might decide it was safer to just kill them. "Fine. Did they stun and drag you here as well?"

"Sedated," Matthew corrected smugly. "They don't come physically into my cell anymore."

"Why is that?" Annette asked.

"I killed them," he answered simply. "They didn't like that. Would have probably escaped if not for this damn chip."

"You could probably say that for all of us," Said muttered. "Or the fact that the guards would shoot us instantly. Or that there is no way to get out of here."

"Sure there is," Annette contested, frowning. "It might take some running-"

"Annette dear, we're in Antarctica," Fatima chided softly. "We'd die if we left here."

Annette froze. If that were true…how could she ever escape unnoticed? "You sure?" She asked softly, not quite willing to give up yet.

"One of the guards let it slip," Fatima told her. "I'm sure."

Annette leaned against the wall as best she could with her bound hands. "Damn it."

"Hey, but at least we get to listen to interesting conversations," Matthew shrugged wearily. "Some of the stuff they talk about is interesting. You know what the call us?"

"Subject insert name here?" Annette guessed sarcastically. "Or just test subject?"

"Maybe to you, and only officially," Matthew answered, the faintest smile on his face. "But no. At least to themselves the name is something a little more creative."

"Get to the point." Annette growled.

"Pushy," Matthew chided lightly, appearing to enjoy this exchange. "Fine. They call us the Furies."

Annette's eyebrows furrowed. "I assume that means something beyond the obvious?"

"Quite," Fatima agreed softly. "It's rather symbolic of them, actually. The Furies were demons of Greek mythology. They were the punishers of Hades and were feared and hated by all. But they were extremely powerful and terrified their enemies."

"Not terribly subtle," Matthew muttered. "I'm terrible with this sort of stuff and they might as well be hanging a banner over it."

"We are assuming that there is some actual symbolic meaning behind this," Said commented as he moved up by Fatima who rested her head on his shoulder as comfortably as she could manage with the restraints. "I'm more curious as to which soldier started it. If it was an American, I'd wager he came up with it because it 'sounded cool.' That is the term, yes?"

He shot a questioning glance at her. She shrugged. "Don't look at me, I'm not American. But I'd ascribe that more to younger people into the games, comics and movies today."

"You look pretty young yourself," Matthew commented. "You sure you want to make that assumption."

"I'm twenty-five," she scowled at him. "Old enough to be out of that crowd."

"Well, the point was I found it interesting," Matthew continued. "Also interesting, it was apparently you that inspired it. Guess you did something pretty spectacular."

Annette thought back to some of her previous demonstrates, unwitting and otherwise. "Perhaps," she muttered. Furies. That did seem a fitting name for her, especially once she escaped.

With a click her restraints suddenly fell off and clattered on the ground. She began rubbing her wrists as she looked curiously at the ground. What was this? A light shimmered above her and then materialized into the hologram of a man in a lab suit. He held a tablet and appraised them coldly.

"Test subjects," he began. "Please step behind the yellow line. Should you refuse to comply, we will utilize the chip." Annette looked behind her and did indeed see a yellow line at the end of the room. She sighed. Rebelling would accomplish nothing and she wanted to know what they were doing this time. Apparently, all of them felt the same way and walked behind the yellow line.

"Subject Seven, remain outside," the scientist ordered and Matthew stopped and turned around.

Once the three of them were inside, new glass walls fell from the ceiling, directly on the yellow lines, pinning them in. "You four have been observed over the past few weeks as we made notes on the manifestation of your abilities," the scientist continued. "Today you will put those abilities to the test. Failure to comply will be painful."

Annette swallowed. Wonderful, at least this might give her an idea of how much EXALT actually know about psionics. Matthew rolled his shoulder and walked out into the middle of the room. Annette noticed that quite a few were watching them, they mostly looked like soldiers with odd colored bandannas and a surprising amount of ethnicities. Several scientists and other distinctly dressed people were also in the crowd.

A small turret-like machine descended from the ceiling and aimed at Matthew. Although upon closer inspection, it didn't look like a weapon. The barrel was much larger and tubular than a gun, more like something that would launch a grenade. It looked just large enough to fit a baseball inside.

"Catch the ball." The scientist ordered and the turret spat out a white ball directly at Matthew. It hit him square in the head and he took a step back. So it must not be that hard. He glanced up at the turret and sighed.

"Really? This is the best you could come up with?"

No one responded, but the turret shot another ball at him. Instantly, the air around Matthew's right arm became distorted, as if seen through a heat wave. It was an extremely faint purple that shimmered in the bright light that grew more distinct with each second. His eyes had a faint purple overlay, but otherwise were normal.

He extended his hand and the ball suddenly stopped and hovered about a meter from his hand. A faint, purple field had enveloped the ball, seemingly keeping it in place. Matthew twisted his hand over and the ball moved right over it. The field keeping the ball suspended disappeared and it fell into his hand.

Annette blinked. So, telekinesis was possible. She'd never actually considered that possibility, accepting that her more destructive powers were all that she was able to do. Apparently the range of abilities was much greater than she'd initially thought. Did that mean she could learn how to do that?

"Good," the scientist said. "Now for something a bit harder."

Two more turrets descended, forming something of a triangle with the first turret, effectively flanking Matthew in the center. Still enveloped in shimmering psionic energy, he nodded as he prepared for the next wave. The turrets fired and he raised a hand and the balls immediately slowed and were gently lowered to the floor.

Matthew looked almost bored as he did so. So much so that he failed to hear a sharp metallic sound cutting through the air. He stumbled back and clutched his arm, looking in disbelief at the cut on it. It wasn't deep, but he barely jumped aside as another blade flew through the air from a new turret that had dropped from the ceiling.

He snarled and extended his hand again and the blade stopped. With a flick of his wrist he sent it flying towards one of the windows and Annette got a small amount of enjoyment at seeing those closest flinch as it bounced off. Two more of those turrets dropped down and began firing.

But now Matthew didn't seem so worried. With his right hand up in the direction of the turrets, he was managing to direct them away, if not catch them outright. She had no idea how he was managing any of it, but whatever he was doing was working. The purple shimmer around him deepened in color and his eyes were now fully purple, glowing with a dangerous intensity.

He extended his hand towards one of the crates that was in the room and flung it up towards the turrets. The crate leapt from the ground and flew at them with deadly force. Unfortunately, the turrets simply pulled back up and the crate hit a flat ceiling.

"Clever," the scientist commented. "And proficient."

"Shut up," Matthew snarled, his voice layered. "Are you satisfied?"

"Almost." Yet another turret descended from the ceiling, but unlike the others, this one actually looked lethal. It took her a second to realize she was looking at some kind of rocket launcher. Would they really-?

It fired at him and Matthew barely raised his hands in time to stop it. Bracing himself and with his hands extended, he barely seemed to be keeping the rocket at bay. With a shout, he crossed his arms and the rocket went flying upwards and hit the ceiling and sputtered out as it fell to the floor.

Annette stared at it. So it hadn't even been armed. So they really weren't planning on killing them, at least not yet. Matthew has fallen to one knee and the aura around them had faded. Now he just looked tired.

"Well done," the scientist complemented. "You may rejoin the others." The glass wall containing them raised and he stumbled in and collapsed to the floor. "Subject Four, Subject Twelve please step out."

Swallowing, she stepping into the larger room and didn't look behind as she heard the glass wall close behind her. Time to see what they had in store for her. Said also joined her, looking somewhat apprehensive. Given that they were both out, Annette had an uncomfortable feeling about where this was going.

"Don't worry about me," Said told her, not looking down. "Whatever they do, just play along. And don't hold back, they'll know if you do."

Before she could ask what that meant a burst of static interrupted her. "Subjects Four and Twelve, you are to fight psionically until only one is standing."

Damn it.

She began to retort that, no, she wasn't going to do that. But then Said's words made sense. Just play along. Alright, sure. Play along, for now. She wasn't going to kill him, no matter what they ordered her to do, but she could put up a show for them.

His thought stream was fairly unique and she was able to pick it up quickly again. You sure you think this is best? He walked over to the far corner, to buy more time as he formulated a response.

Think of it as a training exercise. He thought back at her. And you'll have to try very hard to actually hurt me.

She still wasn't happy about this, but as a training exercise…if this did help her, and him for that matter, it might actually be a benefit. She fixed him with a stare. She sincerely hoped that he was as confident in his abilities, otherwise she might accidentallykill him on her first try.

But at the very least, she had a good pool of emotion to draw upon. Hate. For this situation, at EXALT, at these people who kept toying with them, pitting them against each other for their amusement. She focused on the feeling, feeding it until it reached a point where she could hold it in no longer.

She took a firm stance and let loosethe power contained. Immediately her vision was tinted purple as bands of energy ran up and down the length of her arm; the familiar pain of her skin tearing and melting only feeding into the loop. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window and realized just how consumed by the power she looked. It was if she was encased in a swirling armor of energy.

Said's manifestation of power was far more subtle. All that appeared different was that his eyes turned to a glowing purple like hers. Albeit far less intense. He'd better be ready, cause she wasn't waiting any longer. She gathered a purple ball of energy in her hand in thrust it toward him. Instantly he raised a hand and a shimmering purple field appeared in front of him, absorbing the ball of energy.

The field vanished instantly after and he gave her a small smile. So, psionics could also protect as well as attack. His confidence made much more sense now. Glaring at him, she circled around as she gathered energy for a push. He simply watched as waited, never breaking eye contact.

She quickly planted her foot in front of her and thrust out both hands, sending a purple-tinged shockwave of energy his way. Said quickly raised his hands and a shimmering field materialized, but the sheer force of the shockwave forced him several steps back.

Annette didn't relent. She threw more bursts of energy his way. He managed to block them, but was losing his calm demeanor. She got an idea; why did the power always have to converge around her? Could it manifest elsewhere?

She raised her right hand and directed the energy towards forming a psionic ball of energy over him. It materialized and she brought her hand down and the ball followed suit, slamming into the ground and emitting a massive shockwave which threw him into the glass.

She winced. It'd worked a little too well. He didn't appear pleased with that as she advanced on him, looking to win this to get it over with. He raised both hands in her direction, energy rippling around his wrists, and she gathered power of her own until she just…stopped. She couldn't move.

Said still had his hands extended towards her, his hands encased in transparent gloves of energy. He must have frozen her somehow. And from the looks of things, he could keep this up indefinitely. But there was one advantage she had. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on his thought stream. Once she found it, she hesitated and then focused everything she had into one, single word.

STOP

It wasn't even a command. Just a word backed by strong emotion. A distraction, nothing more. But it worked and he winced, giving her the opportunity to break free. A shockwave burst from her, shattering the shield holding her like glass. Without wasting an instant, she thrust her arms forward at him, unleashing a continuous stream of psionic energy and gas.

He raised his hands and a field appeared in front of him, absorbing and deflecting the worst of it. Annette didn't care and kept walking, more energy pouring out of her. The stream of power forced him to the ground, beads of sweat fell down his face as she slowly overwhelmed him.

The shield flickered once, then collapsed and the energy hit him and threw his back against the glass that he hit with a crunch. She immediately ceased the stream when she realized what she'd done. Was he- no, he was fine. He was trying to get up, and as she approached, he raised a hand.

"You win," he told her, slumping to the ground, panting heavily. She took a deep breath and let all the power within her fade until her vision was normal again.

"Oh, no-" she swayed as a wave of exhaustion, hunger and thirst swept over her and she collapsed to the ground. Without the power to keep her sustained, she had nothing else left. She'd overexerted herself again, hopefully it wouldn't kill her. But then again, this time they might decide it would be better to let her die.

With that, she blacked out, the last thing she saw were the bright lights of the ceiling.

---

The Citadel, Herman's Room

Time for an official update to the Council. He'd been here long enough to give some general impressions and to give them updates on some of the projects taking place here. Ultimately, he'd decided to speak with Tamara as he felt she'd take a more level-headed approach to stuff like the virus and the necessity of an Intelligence branch.

He set up his laptop and waited for it to connect as he sent out the call. Everything was in full swing following the defeat. The Commander was conducting a massive operation to find EXALT and seemed to be heavily working with Van Doorn and Bradford to find them. The impressions he'd gotten from the soldiers were almost universal. They were angry and they wanted revenge.

An understandable reaction, and as long as they were pointed only in the direction of the aliens and EXALT, then he was fine with it. Hopefully the Commander would be targeted in his reprisal; knowing him, he wouldn't hesitate to attack if EXALT ended up being in the middle of a city or something.

The screen flashed and the face of Tamara appeared. Her face brightened as she saw him. "Ah, Herman. Good to see you!"

He nodded. "You as well, Councilor. I figured it was past due for an update."

"I agree," she nodded, growing more serious. "But I'm glad you choose to report to me. The last thing we need is things blown out of proportion."

"Agreed," Herman answered. Theybegan with what he'd seen of the entire XCOM operation and that, for the moment, nothing seemed illegal or out of place. He didn't spend too long on that subject since there were far more important ones. He then told her about the EXALT encounter and subsequent defeat.

"Have you ever heard of this organization before?" Herman asked after he had finished describing the issue.

She pursed her lips. "Yes, of course. And unlike many, I do think that they do exist in some form. But not nearly on such a scale as you describe."

"Well, I would request anything you have on them," Herman said. "Whoever they actually are, they're acting against XCOM and pose a legitimate threat. Both I and the Commander would prefer to remove them as soon as possible."

"I couldn't agree more," Tamara answered. "Though the Council might not have much on them. It is largely considered a conspiracy theory."

"Maybe telling the Council that XCOM suspects EXALT is working with the aliens might incentivize them," Herman suggested. "Or would that not matter?"

"Unnecessary," Tamara shook her head. "The Council wants the aliens gone and sees XCOM as the best chance for that. The split is over the Commander, not the organization itself. We protect our investments."

Hmm. Time to see how well that held up with his next request. "I'm glad you think so," he said smoothly. "Now, I do have something that I would like the Council to seriously consider authorizing."

Tamara cocked her head, but otherwise her expression remained neutral. "Go ahead."

He took a breath. "Regardless of what EXALT actually is, it's apparent that they primarily act through subterfuge and secrecy. Both areas in which XCOM is currently ill-equipped to handle. The Commander has reportedly run some covert operations on the side, but does not have access to a legitimate intelligence branch."

"You want an Intelligence division?" She asked, actually sounding surprised.

"Not exactly," Herman clarified. "Only authorization to create an Intelligence branch. The Commander would be more than happy to put one together. If it matters, I personally think this needs to be done if we want EXALT to be removed quicker. Not to mention some of the dangers of the Commander doing this part time might be increased stress and reduced efficiency. Most of all, if he's stretched too thin, he'll make mistakes and people will die. Something that benefits no one."

Tamara leaned back in her chair, looking somewhat conflicted. "I can tell you right now that this isn't going to go over well with some people. The last thing they want is to give him more power and giving him command of an intelligence branch is probably high on their list of greatest fears," she sighed. "Look, I agree of the necessity, but realistically, the Council won't approve it, no matter how hard I push"

"But would my recommendation be enough?" Herman asked. "To be fair, Councilor, I do have a better grasp of the situation than anyone on the Council."

"That's not how this works," Tamara growled, though it didn't seem to be directed at him. "They don't care about that. They only want to know about stuff if it reinforces their position and gives them a reason to dismiss the Commander. That's the only reason they want you there; not to help XCOM and certainly not to help the Commander."

Herman pinched the bridge of his nose. "So essentially, anything I say is essentially pointless unless it fits one agenda or another?"

"Pretty much," Tamara agreed grimly, not even bothering to exclude herself from the implication. "And nothing gets done anyway because all the sides do everything they can to block and impede each other. Which is why your first focus shouldn't be on enforcing rules, it should be actually helping the Commander win the war."

"It might be a better use of time," Herman agreed. "But I'm not going to forget the reasons I was asked here in the first place, regardless if you think they're unnecessary or not."

"Fair enough," she nodded. "Well, anything else?"

Ah, right. "XCOM is developing a biological weapon to use against the aliens," Herman explained carefully. "It targets the alien known as the sectoids. If used correctly, it could effectively wipe out the entire species."

Tamara's eyes widened. "The entire species? If a virus like that gets out of control-"

"XCOM's chief scientist has assured me it will not," Herman clarified. "Take that for what you will. But what gives her some credibility is that the sectoids are all genetic clones and she's made the virus target the sectoids on a genetic level. That supposedly will make the virus harmless to anything else."

"I see," she nodded, the corner of her lip curling up. "Interesting. It seems Vahlen's abilities were not exaggerated, and she would be one to come up with such a thing. How does it work?"

"I'm not sure how the Commander is planning to deploy it," Herman answered. "But once he does, there will be an incubation period of a few weeks to spread the virus as much as possible. Then once it does, it will slowly….decompose them, for lack of a better word. Vahlen told be that it would effectively reduce them to mush."

"Painful, but effective," Tamara nodded, not appearing to be disconcerted. "How long will it take to actually kill them?"

"At the moment, a week or two," Herman answered. "The Commander and Vahlen both seem to believe that the process will terrify and demoralize the aliens. I've convinced the Commander to speed up the rate of mortality after the first deployment."

"Yes, that sounds like him," Tamara commented, almost amused. "Him and his terror tactics. But if it kills the aliens, I have no issue with it."

Herman was tempted to drop it, but did have to ask. "And the rest of the Council?"

"I think it would be best if this particular development was kept under wraps," she suggested neutrally. "Warnup would pitch a fit for obvious reasons and several others who are as not as knowledgeable or mistrustful of the sciences would misguidedly believe that this virus might pose a risk to us. Revealing this to the Council at large would only cause more problems."

That seemed to be the case with the Council. No matter what happened there would always be more problems. Well, he'd done his duty and reported to the Council. What they did with it was not his concern, even if it was kind of a cop-out for him. But he had no desire to get any more involved in Council politics than he already was.

"That is all I have to report at this time," he told her.

She inclined her head. "You've done well. Keep it up and we'll win this war. I'll take your suggestion to the rest of the Council, but I would not hold out hope."

"Understood, Councilor," he responded wearily. "A good day to you."

"You as well." With that she cut the feed. Herman sighed and closed the laptop. And thus, he was in a situation where he was effectively useless, exactly what he didn't want. He essentially had two options, work with Warnup who had a misguided personal vendetta against the Commander and Tamara who would likely overlook everything as long as it helped win the war.

Neither extreme was particularly appealing to him, but at the moment, Tamara was the one who would cause the least damage. It seemed that his best chance of influencing anything while still keeping the organization intact was trying to reason with the Commander and temper his more radical ideas. At least the Commander was open to discussion, he just had to be very careful how he approached him.

Well, he might as well get good at it.

---

The Citadel, Barracks

"He usually doesn't call us up," Patricia commented as she geared up. "What do you think's different?"

Creed shrugged as placed the breastplate over his chest. "Don't know. But I'd guess it has something to do with this EXALT group. A major reprisal seems fitting."

She hoped it was, for his sake. Even if he hadn't shown it, Patricia was able to feel just how defeated and guilty he felt over the defeat. She'd known to back off for a couple days and let him figure it out on his own. Now when she focused on him, he felt…sharp, focused and determined.

As much as Patricia wanted to begin honing her abilities further, she knew doing so after that defeat was not a good idea. Should this mission deal with EXALT and they emerged victories, she would feel better about bringing it up. Though over the past few days she'd gotten much better at honing in on specific people. It was almost instinctual, she'd look at someone and her brain would catch up and she'd be able to get a sense of what they were feeling.

Although as a side effect, the headaches were worsening, though she could deal with that pretty easily. It was still annoying, but a few pills and she'd be good for a while. She didn't want to become reliant on them, but for missions she'd made an exception. It wouldn't do any good to be plagued by a headache during a firefight.

"Here, let me tighten that," she walked over and tightened the straps on his breastplate until the armor was secured. "That good?"

"Seems solid," he answered with a nod. "Let me check yours." She turned around and let him fiddle with the straps on her own armor. "All set." He finished, stepping back and grabbing his gauntlets.

She rolled her shoulders, testing the tightness. Satisfied, she nodded at him and pulled on her own gauntlets until they were smug. Every part of her armor on, minus the helmet, she went over to the weapons locker and pulled out her autolaser and secured it to the back of her armor. Grabbing her helmet, she turned to face Creedwho had likewise slung his laser battle rifle over his shoulder and had his helmet tucked under his arm.

"Let's go," he said, motioning to the door. Taking the lead, she walked out with him to her right. They stepped into the elevator and Creed thumbed the button to the floor where the Commander was located.

"I haven't forgotten, you know," Creed said after a minute of silence. "Don't think I have."

She glanced over at him, not following. "Sorry?"

He motioned at her. "Helping with your…abilities. I'm pretty sure you wanted to get started before now."

He was actually feeling guilty about this, she realized as she focused on him again. Which in turn made her feel bad. "Hey," she turned to him sternly. "Don't you feel bad about that at all. I knew it was better to leave you alone for a few days. Please don't feel guilty about it otherwise it'll just make me feel like a terrible person."

He cracked a smile. "Are you doing it now?"

She scowled. "Yes."

"Sorry, can't help it," he shrugged. "I don't like not following through."

Patricia gave a loud sigh. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Would you want me to feel guilty if the roles were reversed?"

"Good point," he answered as the elevator came to a stop. "We'll discuss this after the mission ends, alright?"

"Sounds good to me," she agreed, and they stepped off the elevator together. It was only a short distance to the Commander's office and they arrived a few minutes later. The door slid open automatically and they both walked inside.

She immediately recognized Carmelita and Marten who both nodded in their direction. Carmelita was toying with one of her blades, twirling the weapon in her fingers absentmindedly, while Marten was just leaning against the wall. It appeared the Commander hadn't arrived yet.

The last man was one she hadn't met before. A rather lithe man, he was just taller than her and had an oddly scarred face. He was Israeli, judging from the flag on the collar of his armor and he definitely looked it. His brown skin was darker than normal, at least compared to Galia and his black hair was neatly trimmed back. A crisscross of scars ran down the right side of his face, probably knife wounds. She wondered if Carmelita had noticed.

He also had one of the laser sniper rifles attached to his armor. Interesting. She'd noticed that snipers were somewhat lacking and that had no doubt been a reason why he'd been recruited. She wondered what unit he was from. He turned to her as she walked up. "I don't think we've met. Patricia Trask," She extended a hand.

He inclined his head towards her as he took her hand and gave one firm shake. "Mordecai Korhn, Israeli Unit 669 sniper."

Well then. Definitely a professional. Unit 669 was considered one of the best special forces units in the world. They were an interesting unit because a large part were medics and surgeons, and every single one were proficient paratroopers, divers and climbers. As far as she knew, they were primarily hostage rescue and counter-terrorism, though mostly the former since terrorism was widely down these days.

"A pleasure to meet you," she answered. "The stories I've heard of your Unit are impressive."

He gave a faint grin. "The tip of the iceberg, Mrs. Trask. I can assure you I have far more interesting ones. Though I have certainly heard a lot about you. I'm curious to see if you live up to the stories about you."

She did a double take at that. About her? "What stories?" She demanded.

He actually felt amused. "A poor choice of words, perhaps," he amended quickly. "But anyone who is mentioned with as much respect and trust as you is certainly worth keeping an eye on."

She hadn't had a clue that was even something that was going on. Sure, she tried to be as good a leader to her subordinates as possible, but hadn't really expected much in return. She didn't consider it anything special. If anything, she was only doing the bare minimum. Still, it felt good to hear, and since she didn't feel any falsity within Mordecai, she assumed he was telling the truth.

She was about to say something else when an unexpected coldness hit her. She involuntarily tensed and goosebumps rose on her skin. This was far stronger than anything she'd felt before. It was icy fury and determination, no less intense than unbridled rage. If anything, more frightening.

"Apologies for keeping you," the Commander greeted, walking out into the room, tightening his own gauntlet. To her surprise, she realized he was wearing his armor as well, the dull silver paint distinct from the rest of their colored and cameoed armor. Was he coming on this mission?

All of them immediately snapped to attention as he walked in front of them. He frowned at set his helmet down on the desk. "At ease. For once, we don't have a strict timetable here and since this mission will be slightly different, I felt it would be better to give the briefing here than on the skyranger."

Patricia relaxed and waited for him to continue. As he adjusted his gauntlet, Carmelita spoke up. "Will you be accompanying us on the mission, Commander?"

"No," the Commander responded dryly, the biting sarcasm bringing a grin to her lips. "I just decided to get suited up for the hell of it," he gave a dramatic sigh. "Yes, I'm going to be coming. Far past time, I feel."

Patricia couldn't help but feel a little worried at that. On one hand, it struck her an incredibly noble of him to come along and share in the risk. But on the other, if something happened…No, surely he had to know that. Besides, he'd accompanied them into battle before, albeit with the odds somewhat in their favor.

She considered speaking up about it, but the Commander had probably heard the exact same arguments from his Inner Circle and wouldn't want to hear them again from her, or anyone else. Well, she immediately felt a little better knowing he was coming. Hopefully this went as well as last time.

Everyone else seemed to get the same idea and no one questioned him coming along. The Commander finished adjusting his armor and once he was done, stood in front of them, arms clasped behind his back. "XCOM Intelligence has located what we believe to be an EXALT facility of some kind. What exactly that entails, we don't know for sure. That is what we'll be finding out today."

"Where?" Creed asked.

"An isolated location in the Russian wilderness," the Commander answered, beginning to pace in front of them. "If I had to guess what's stored there, I'd think weapons. We recently finished conducting an operation where EXALT was using a farming company as a way to smuggle weapons into the country. They loaded them onto trucks and left. We tracked those trucks to the location we're assaulting today and cross-referencing with some files we recovered, are certain that EXALT is using the facility for something."

"What sort of defenses should we expect?" Patricia asked. "Do they know we're coming?"

The Commander pursed his lips. "They do not know we're coming, no. At least that's what XCOM Intelligence believes. But expect them to be on high alert. That shell company they were operating out of was recently taken over by Russian forces. They're likely to be on edge, even if they're not expecting us."

He shook his head. "But to answer your original question, we don't know for sure. Our agents on the ground report at least ten soldiers. They aren't as heavily armored as the soldiers encountered in Mexico, but they are assumed to be at least as skilled. There is no sign of any automated defenses or gunning stations. We have no intel on the inside of the facility."

"So how are we going to execute this," Mordecai asked, cocking his head at the Commander. "Frontal assault or as silent as possible?"

"This is not an intel retrieval mission," the Commander emphasized harshly, though it wasn't directed at Mordecai. "If we get something from their computers, excellent. But this is first and foremost a response to EXALT for the soldiers we lost. I would prefer we take some prisoners, but I want this to be a message and warning to EXALT."

She felt a burst of approval from Creed and the feeling was also present in the other soldiers as well. "Besides," the Commander added, a trace of humor in his voice. "I think it will be difficult to have an infiltration with Myra present."

Patricia cocked her head and appraised the Commander, surprised. Myra? She'd had expected her to be discharged and gone. Sure, the when she'd visited she'd seemed to be doing alright, but to recover so quickly and be ready for combat?

Carmelita apparently had the same idea. "Myra's still active? And recovered?"

"In a manner or speaking, yes," the Commander nodded. "But she isn't the same woman you knew. Not physically at any rate, probably not mentally as well. We're still observing the side effects."

"Of what?" Marten asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Myra volunteered for an experimental program," the Commander answered. "It allowed her to remain with XCOM but not without a price." He grabbed his helmet. "Come. It'll be easier to show you and I've said all that I need to about the assault. Follow me."

With that he walked out of his office towards the hanger, the rest of the soldiers following behind.

---

The Citadel, Hanger

The first thing she noticed was oddly enough, not the giant robotic suit standing by the skyranger. No, it was the aircraft also parked by the skyranger. It was clearly inspired by the familiar aircraft, but it was as if someone had cut out the back two-thirds of the aircraft and just put some sheets of metal over the sides. She could see odd hooks and gears inside, so it must be for transporting something mechanical. If it was being used at all.

"Wow," Creed muttered, surprise and awe in his voice. "What is that?"

"Some kind of transport, perhaps?" She guessed. "I don't know what-"

"No, Patricia," Creed interrupted. "Not that plane. Look at the giant mechanical suit."

Patricia immediately became conscious of the massive suit and wondered how she could have missed it. It was massive, first of all, it had to be at least ten or twelve feet with equally proportioned arms and legs. The chest was open, though it didn't look like any pilot was supposed to fit into there without becoming seriously hurt.

There were some kind of tanks attached to the back, along with the largest laser weapon she'd ever seen. It was a least as large as Creed and probably heavier, it also looked like a larger version of her autolaser. Attachments with nozzles and barrels were on the arms, adding some bulk to the already large machine. More guns? Missiles?

"This is a MEC," the Commander said, stopping in front of the machine. "XCOM Engineering's most advanced experimental warfare project. Mobile, armored and lethal. Simulations place it as a piece of machinery without equal. Today will be the first field test."

"Is it automated?" Marten asked, eyeing the machine. "It seems rather robotic."

"No," the Commander shook his head. "No artificial intelligence exists that would be competent in a battlefield scenario. Furthermore, I wouldn't trust it if it were. A computer will not be able to respond to the stresses and ever-changing landscape of a battle. The MECs have human pilots."

"How?" Patricia asked, inclining her head at the open chest area. "I don't see how they could fit into that. Let alone control it as well as you say."

"They can't," a voice answered from a figure that walked toward them from behind the MEC. The voice sounded familiar, but there was an electronic tinge to it, slightly artificial. But it only took her a second to realize the woman walking towards them.

"Myra?" Creed asked, eyes widening. Patricia echoed the shock and surprise he felt.

Myra's limbs had been replaced by skeletal prosthetics, the limbs angular and hinge-like. They were oddly thin and the only complexity seemed to be on the hands which looked robust and normal. But in general, the prosthetics looked…basic.

It wasn't the only thing that had changed about her. Her chest seemed covered in a sheet of metal, though that might just be armor of some kind, but it gave the illusion that the only human part of her was the head. And even that seemed different. There were some kind of implants above her eyes and neck.

But when Patricia looked into her eyes she saw…nothing. Just plain detachment and apathy. It was disconcerting to her. There should be something. She tried to get a sense of what she was feeling and came away with…nothing. Again. Myra was there…but not much more. It didn't even feel intentional, just…Myra wasn't feeling anything.

"What happened to you?" Patricia asked.

Myra gave her a smile, but it didn't look like a genuine one. "I volunteered. They told me what was required and I agreed to it. I'm doing fine, Patricia, no need to worry."

Maybe physically, but something seemed off about her. She seemed too…calm about this. And she said those words with the same odd detachment, not helped by the robotic tint to her voice.

"Is that…necessary?" Mordecai asked, eyeing Myra warily. "Amputating all the limbs?"

"Yes," the Commander nodded. "They are required for Myra to properly sync with the suit. A suit without direct neural interfacing would be slow, cumbersome and ultimately little more than a massive target. It's an enormous sacrifice, but a necessary one for the MEC program."

Well, at least the Commander made sure Myra wanted to do it before cutting her limbs off. And Myra had done what probably all of them would do, which was agree. She certainly would have, even knowing the possible outcomes so she really couldn't fault her for that. They'd have to talk later.

"Have you…tested it?" Carmelita asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Myra's tone almost turned wistful with longing, and Patricia actually felt a twinge of…something from her. That alonegave her some hope Myra wasn't all gone. "It's an amazing feeling. EXALT will be unable to stop me."

"Suit up," the Commander ordered and waved the rest of them to following him into the skyranger. "We're heading out now."

As they followed, Patricia took a glance behind her and saw Myra getting into the MEC. Various clamps and sockets attached themselves to her arms and legs and Patricia was fairly certain she saw several rods go into her neck and head as well. With a hiss, the MEC suit closed the chest piece and a helmet came together around her head.

Unfortunately, that was the last thing she saw as they boarded the skyranger. She hoped that the MEC was as powerful as the Commander promised. Guess she'd find out soon. Once they strapped in, the skyranger lifted off and took them to enact the first of hopefully many strikes against EXALT.

---

Russia, EXALT Facility

The skyranger set down in an open field that seemingly didn't have any civilization nearby. At least that's what Patricia thought when the Commander gave the order to deploy. The wind whipped the tall grass around her legs and the trees in the distance groaned and rustled.

The starry night was beautiful and reminded her how much she missed being outside. The Citadel wasn't a bad place to live, but being underground all the time did deny her some things that everyone else experienced every day. It didn't even cross her mind that much, until times like now.

"We'll be initiating Eagle Protocol," Fallen Sky said in their earpieces. "Good luck, Commander." With a blast of air, the skyranger took off behind them and flew off into the sky. The Commander, wielding his sniper rifle took a quick look at the wood above.

"Gray Sky, you almost here?" The Commander asked as he glanced up at the sky, talking to the new pilot who was piloting the MEC transport.

"Almost here, don't worry," he replied. "Approaching drop point now."

A few seconds later, the transport came hovering over, settling just a bit above them. Patricia heard several clicks and the MEC dropped from the transport and hit the ground with a thud. Myra didn't seem affected and began walking over to them, the movement much smoother than she was expecting.

It wasn't quiet though, and squeaked and clanked from all the pieces and mechanics working together. Myra reached back and detached her laser weapon from her back and held it in her mechanized hands with surprising familiarity.

"Ready to go, Commander," Myra said, he voice sounding even more monotone when the helmet synthesized her voice even more.

He nodded and began walking towards the trees. "We're to meet up with the agents in here. The hill overlooks the facility and might allow us to ambush them. All of them nodded and followed the Commander into the forest.

The streaks of moonlight that managed to get through the trees gave a foreboding aura to the forest that Patricia was not completely immune to. Anyone looking in would likely be terrified at the sight of a squad of armored soldiers walking through the trees with very little sound.

And it really wasn't that hard. There weren't many leaves or brush to accidentally step on and give themselves away. Even Myra was navigating very well and twisting herself to get through some of the tighter spaces. Patricia was beginning to see the point about Myra being "linked" to the suit. She was moving as if it was her actually body; demonstrating a finesse that would be impossible if it were just controlled with crude exoskeletons or manual controls.

The Commander raised a fist and they all froze. Creed fell to one knee and raised his battle rifle while she stood above him, her autolaser at the ready. Marten and Mordecai had also fallen to one knee, their weapons also raised. Carmelita stood by the commander and simply raised her laser shotgun into the distance.

The Commander didn't appear concerned, though he didn't tell them to relax. Patricia took an opportunity to close her eyes and get a sense of the area. The majority were a mix of anticipation and eagerness for something to happen in contract to the Commander who felt just as cold and patient as before.

Not just that…she frowned and focused further. Waiting. He was waiting for something, or more likely, someone. Several figures in front of them appeared, snapping Patricia back to reality.

"At ease," the Commander said quietly. "They're friendly."

All of them relaxed and Creed got to his feet and eyed the new arrivals warily. The one woman she hadn't seen before. She looked middle-eastern, probably one of Zhang's Kidon agents. But the other woman she recognized right away.

"Abby?" She asked, not expecting to see her here of all places. Though it did make sense; she was in XCOM Intelligence now. She looked much different, wearing black special forces-esque attire, some blast padding, pants, gloves and binoculars hung around her neck. She did kind of stand out though, since her blonde hair was still vibrant and reflected the moonlight above.

"Patricia!" She exclaimed, smiling in response, looking surprised and happy to see her. She began walking forward when the woman beside her moved the back of her hand and lightly touched her chest, stopping her.

"Save the reunion for after," she said. "We've got work to do."

Abby shot her an apologetic look and refocused her attention on the Commander. But the woman did have a point. There would hopefully be time to catch up later. "We're ready to move when you are, Commander." The woman told him. "Follow me to the overlook."

"Lead the way," the Commander answered and they followed until Patricia spotted another figure who was lying on the ground looking through a sniper rifle. The woman stopped. "It's a bit more exposed out here. Keep low."

All of them fell to their knees and advanced crouching until the more or less all arrived at a sharp overlook of the facility. Though facility seemed like something of an exaggeration. The building itself wasn't that big and appeared to be little more than a two-story warehouse, at least in height, with some shuttered windows and garage doors.

No, what was interesting were the defenses around it. The perimeter was just a chain fence, but from seeing some sparks jumping off it, Patricia supposed it was electrified. There only appeared to be one entrance that had a barricade set up in front. Within the fence itself were multiple barricades and cover stations, no doubt likely to be used in the case of an attack.

What made it work so well was that it was built in a completely empty field, so any attempt to attack the building would require running out into the open for a very long stretch. She wondered how the Commander was going to solve that problem.

The soldiers themselves were dressed more like security guards than actual soldiers, their uniforms seemed very ornate and professional instead of allowing protection. It honestly looked like they were wearing suits underneath some basic Kevlar. They all wore red bandannas around their faces, different from the orange ones of the other soldiers. Maybe it was a regional thing?

"Very exposed," the Commander muttered aloud. "Clever."

"They knew how to plan," the woman agreed. "But I don't think they'll stay with a force like this. Especially with her here." She gestured at Myra. "I'd bet that they'll focus their fire on her."

"Let them try," Myra muttered, her voice physically vibrating the air.

"Unfortunately, there is little choice other than a frontal assault," the Commander said. "But there are ways to mitigate that. Kalonymous, Mordecai, let's thin them out a bit."

"With pleasure," Mordecai answered and dropped to one knee and aimed his rifle down upon the building. The Commander was laying down beside the man with the sniper rifle Patricia guessed was Kalonymous. Both of whom also had their weapons trained on the facility.

"Targets lined up," the Commander muttered. "Execute on my order."

"Copy," Mordecai answered as he adjusted his scope. "I've got his friend for a follow-up."

"Same," Kalonymous agreed. "I'll remain here when you move in."

"Understood," the Commander nodded. "Myra, once they're sufficiently frenzied, go in there. They'll probably retreat into the building, giving the rest of us a chance to move in."

"Understood, Commander," Myra nodded, gears whirring as she took a stance preparing to charge.

"Patricia, lay down some covering fire after we shoot," the Commander instructed. "See how many you can clip." Patricia grinned and swung her weapon over the two snipers as she prepared to fire.

"Three…two…one…" The Commander lingered on the last word.

"Fire."

Three beams of energy shot out and Patricia heard fair shouts of surprise in the distance and saw bodies fall to the floor. A second later they each shot again and several more bodies fell to the floor. As the rest of the EXALT soldiers started scattering, she let loose with her autolaser, spraying red bolts back and forth across the area.

"Now, Myra!" The Commander shouted and Myra charged off the overlook and towards the facility. Now in cover, the EXALT soldiers were beginning to fight back firing ballistic weapons at them. Patricia smirked, they might have had the advantage in Mexico, but this time XCOM controlled the battle.

The three snipers kept firing shots, red beams of light raining down on the area. "They're in good cover now," the Commander noted. "Switch to the suppression method. Take zones and fire when they're about to take a shot."

"Left zone mine," Mordecai called.

"Right is mine," Kalonymous confirmed.

"Locking down the middle," the Commander finished. "Patricia, take a forward position! They'll be focused on Myra and we'll do what we can."

"Got it!" She confirmed and waved the rest of the squad to follow her. "Spread out and hold fire till we're close!"

They all shouted in affirmation and they quickly charged down the field under the starry sky. They almost went completely unnoticed. What little fire that the snipers were not suppressing was directed at Myra who was being utterly merciless in her attacks. Patricia didn't know the specs on that weapon, but it was melting steel crates like they were nothing and usually killing the soldier hiding behind.

There were sparks from bullets flying off of her armor, but they appeared to be scratches, nothing more. And Myra responded by targeting one specific target at seemingly the exclusion of all others and killing it with mechanical precision.

They were almost at the gate and there was still plenty of cover remaining. "Fire!" Patricia ordered, planting her feet and letting loose a burst of laser fire at a duo of EXALT soldiers hiding behind a barricade. The barrage missed one but slammed directly into the chest of the other, throwing her back onto the ground, a smoking hole in her chest.

"More coming in from the sides!" Marten yelled as he and Creed began laying down fire on the right side of the building. Patricia heard a scream and assumed they'd scored a hit on some of the soldiers. They had nothing to fear from the left as Myra was moving that way, the EXALT soldiers frantically running for cover without even trying to shoot.

"Oтступать! Отступать!" One of the soldiers yelled, the foreign language not enough to hide the fear in his voice.

That call was apparently to retreat, since the remaining EXALT soldiers dropped canisters that immediately emitted smoke disguising their position.

"Cease fire!" The Commander ordered. "Let them box themselves in."

They all paused firing, not lowering their weapons, but taking time to reload and waiting for the smoke to clear. Patricia heard one of the garage doors close and something faintly like a lock click into place.

"Think they're calling for help?" Creed asked, quickly glancing over at her.

"I doubt it," she answered. "They probably think they have a better chance of surviving using choke points."

He snorted. "This is going to turn into a kill zone for Myra."

She smiled. "I don't think they were expecting a twelve-foot robotic suit to attack them."

"Move forward," the Commander ordered, coming up behind her, now holding a laser rifle in his hand.

Patricia nodded and took slowly advanced to the garage door, taking a position on the right corner of it. Creed too the other side. The Commander looked around, appraising the area. "Marten, Carmelita. Secure the building. Make sure there's no other exits."

"Yes, Commander!" Carmelita nodded and she and Marten jogged off around the right side of the building. The Commander walked up and grabbed the handle and gave an experimental pull.

"Locked," he muttered, sounding completely unsurprised. "You think you can get this open?" He asked, looking up at Myra.

"Eventually," she answered, moving down to take a knee and she tapped the garage door.

"Commander, we've only located one other entrance," Carmelita updated. "It's a locked door, but we can cut through it. Instructions?"

"Cut the locks and prepare to move in on my order," the Commander answered. "Myra, give them a scare. Then wipe them out. I think Shen gave you some tools for close combat."

Patricia could swear Myra sounded amused. "Acknowledged, Commander. This building will be their tomb." Patricia shivered at that. Myra brought her metal fist back and slammed it into the garage door, seemingly shaking the entire building and leaving a sizable dent.

Curiously, Myra put her laser weapon onto her back again. Then slammed another fist into the garage. Patricia closed her eyes and focused on the area inside.

Four people set up behind the barricade. Ten more up above. Not enough. Not Enough. We can't stop them. We're going to di- She gasped as the stream of thought overwhelmed her with the sheer feeling of terror.

"Fifteen inside," she warned in a rush. "They're ready for you. But they're terrified."

The Commander glanced at her. "How do you know that?"

"Trust me!"

"Fine," he nodded. "Myra, show them what you can do."

"With pleasure," Myra grabbed the garage door handle and pulled away, tearing the piece of metal and part of the structure along with it with a crack of stone and groaning and steel. With an indifferent callousness, she tossed it to the side and was immediately assaulted with hundreds of bullets flying her way.

The Commander had taken cover behind another barricade, but none of them were able to even peek out into the storm of lead and steel. Amazingly, the bullets just seemed to flow off Myra like water. Scratches were piling up on her armor, but it didn't seem to be damaging her. The way she simply observed the soldiers who were firing at her was disconcerting for her and must be terrifying for them.

"Systems still operational," Myra updated neutrally. "Superficial damage only."

"Wait for it…" the Commander muttered.

The sounds of assault weapons slowly faded until they stopped as the soldiers realized that nothing was really happening. The attachments on Myra's arms whirred and moved forward on her arms. Twin nozzles emerged from the metal boxes, revealing tubes that seemed to contain some liquid.

Myra looked around at the soldiers frantically reloading their weapons and raised her arms, a red light glowing from within the barrels.

"My turn."

Cones of flame burst from her wrists, engulfing the soldiers closest to her who likely died instantly. The weapon fire immediately started up again, but now the soldiers were now running away as Myra moved within the open area. She was in no hurry, focusing on the soldiers who become disconnected from the main group.

Patricia winced as she watched Myra incinerate a soldier who was cowering behind several boxes. "Should we help her?"

"I don't think she needs it," the Commander answered dispassionately as he watched Myra charge a position held by three soldiers who were frantically firing at her. She simply raised her wrist and swept it across their cover, setting all of them on fire and leaving them writhing on the floor.

By now the fire was catching on the building, everything Myra went passed was charred or currently burning. By now EXALT realized they'd confined themselves in a death box and were dashing for the exits. Several reached the door and were promptly killed by Marten and Carmelita.

Myra was now surrounded by bodies, living and dead that were charred or still burning. The screams and smells of those still alive were haunting, but she didn't feel the least bit remorseful or bad about watching them burn.

With fire burning around her, the surviving EXALT soldier crawling away in a vain attempt to escape, Myra looked over at the Commander. "Hostiles eliminated."

"Come with me," the Commander ordered and walked into the burning building, Creed and Patricia beside him. He pointed at a room at the far corner that was close to catching fire. "Creed, get any electronics out of there."

"Yes, Commander," he answered and dashed through the flames and bodies.

"Patricia, find a decent prisoner," the Commander asked, turning to her. "I want one alive."

Patricia walked over by Myra who was looked at one of the soldiers who was crawling away, leaving a trail of blood and soot behind. His leg was burned beyond repair and his arms were warped and scorched. He'd do. She knelt over him and wrapped her forearm around his neck and held him in a chokehold until he passed out.

With a grunt, she hoisted him over her shoulder. "Package secured," she said, nodding at the Commander. He also nodded back and motioned for her and Creed to follow him outside.

"Carmelita, Marten, converge in front," he ordered as he turned back to Myra. "Burn this place to the ground," he growled, letting some of his fury live in his voice.

Myra nodded and cones of flame burst from her wrists as she began systematically burning the building down. The Commander, laser rifle in hand, turned around and walked away from the carnage and exited the building.

Once they were outside and reconvened with Marten and Carmelita, they all turned wordlessly toward the building that was slowly turninginto an inferno. The Commander clasped his hands behind his back as he watched the fire consume everything inside; the hungry flames reflecting off his helmet's visor.

Myra emerged from the growing inferno, her suit steaming from the heat. But there was nothing even remotely resembling concern in her voice. "Objective completed, Commander."

"Well done," the Commander answered, not looking up as he watched the flames. "We sent a message today. One that I think will be received loud and clear."

"What happens if someone survives?" Marten asked. "I mean, we didn't make sure all of them were dead, right?"

"Anyone who survives that will never pose a threat to us again," the Commander answered firmly. "And they will tell the story of their defeat. Perhaps that will put some fear into them."

They stood together for a while like that, watching the fire until the skyranger came to pick them up.

---

After-Action Report

Operation: Vengeful Robot

Note: Really Bradford? This was the best you could do? – The Commander

Personnel:

Hornet 1 (Squad Overseer): The Commander

Status: Active

Kills: 3

Hornet 2: Specialist Patricia Trask

Status: Active

Kills: 3

Hornet 3: MEC Soldier Myra Rodriguez

Status: Online

Kills: 21

Hornet 4: Specialist Carmelita Alba

Status: Active

Kills: 2

Hornet 5: Specialist Anius Creed

Status: Active

Kills: 3

Hornet 6: Specialist Marten El-Amin

Status: Active

Kills: 3

Hornet 7: Specialist Mordecai Korhn

Status: Active

Kills: 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot 1: Tristin Ward – Call sign: "Fallen Sky"

Pilot 2: Barney Kimon – Call sign: "Gray Sky"

Artifacts Recovered:

-1x EXALT Computer

-1x EXALT Captive

- Assorted electronic equipment

---

A/N: So, two things:

1. Guest reviews. I've wanted to mention something on this for a while, so I figured I might as well do it here. I really appreciate them and like that people leave feedback. I have noticed that several do sometimes ask questions in them, and I'm not sure they're aware that I can't respond to them unless they have an actual account. Which I do recommend, by the way, even if you don't actually write. It's good for communication if nothing else, and I give some response to every single review I receive.

2. So, college has now started up for me and thus I must give out the warning that I'm pretty sure I gave out last year about this time (Or last semester, and it probably wasn't even for an XCOM story). Since college is going to take priority, there may be a noticeable decline in the rate chapters are published. Now, this may not end up happening and chapters will be produced as normal, but if it happens, there's the reason. That and that Mankind Divided is coming out and I'm going to be playing that as well.

Thanks for reading as always!

-Xabiar