A/N: You guys are phenomenal! Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews, support and patience. I know it's been a while since my last update so here's a double update. To the afterlife crew, you guys rock! And Nils my friend this is the result of your hard work, thanks so much for sticking with me this long.
Location: Office of Major Dr. Karin Chakwas—SSV Dublin deck 2— Ontarom
Doctor Chakwas' inner office was more inviting than the cold sterile atmosphere of the med bay. A few personal items guarded her desk but not enough to be distracting; mainly just pictures of grinning jarheads with bandaged limbs, some thank you cards and a bamboo plant stuck in a colorful red vase that could only be from Earth.
Liam thumbed at the red chips of the vase while avoiding all eye contact. Coming here was a mistake but he couldn't bring himself to bail either.
"Why are you here, Commander?" Chakwas asked, leaning back in her chair, trying her best to seem inviting.
Liam only shook his head limply. He asked himself that same question over and over again with each step he took towards her office. It's been years since Elysium. If he hadn't snapped then, what made anyone think he would now? This was a waste of time. But aboard the Dub it didn't matter what he thought. The Captain made her ultimatum and now he had a difficult choice to make.
Chakwas seemed used to the silence. Maybe something about dealing with jarheads who weren't good with feelings strengthened her patience. Whatever it was, he was grateful for the silence just before it broke. "What happened between you and Dana?"
His eyes snapped to her for the first time since sitting down. The older woman's smile waned, clearly not liking what she saw. Not that it was any of her business...or was it? He didn't really know what information the psych-wing was allowed to pry out of him.
Chakwas didn't say anything for the longest time, deciding to wait him out again. She was going to win this mental battle whether he liked it or not so he got straight to the point. "Where do I start?"
"The beginning is usually a good place," Chakwas suggested, readying her holo-pad.
Great. Everything would be recorded for the shrinks to scrutinize over. Of course there would always be records. But no doctor-patient confidentiality was going to convince him to say anything more than he needed to.
"Alright," he began, feeling the sting of defeat.
~O~
1 hour earlier
Liam sat on his slippery metal seat, fully alert and tracing the rims of a harness that kept him from falling 800 feet to his death. The four of them were crammed into the Kodiak and for once he understood Vega's aversion to the damn things. At least in the Mako you could bail if the road got too rocky. In the Kodiak you were at the mercy of a crazy pilot. But it wasn't Ellie's flying that had them all on the edge.
Across from him Casey and Hunter kept stealing glances at the jagged terrain below, as if afraid the pull of gravity would beckon them home any time. The door was left open at the captain's request but while everyone fought to keep their stomach contents, no one dared to ask her to close it.
Something changed. He couldn't quite put a finger on it but knew Flores was pissed. Heck even Ellie refrained from her aerial maneuvers and kept the bird steady, as if not to spark an already volatile situation.
Liam looked to Hunter for help but the chief only shrugged. Casey tried to avoid looking out below, only to grip the rails tighter when she caught a glimpse. It seemed like Flores was intent on pushing them off one-by-one, the only problem was no one knew what they did to piss off the captain.
Flores sat casually beside him, right next to the open door, one leg on the seat with the other firmly planted on the ground. She had an arm resting atop her bent knee, while the other twirled an old charm attached to some string.
Her helmet shielded prying eyes, but no one bought her relaxed demeanor. For a moment Liam thought it had something to do with the object in her hand, she did chase some poor fireman down for it when he tried to plunder the raggedy thing. But when she flat out ignored his questions, herded her team and left local PD to sort out the rest without so much as standing orders he knew there was more to the story.
When the Kodiak touched down Flores was the first one up since she didn't bother with a harness. Casey and Hunter were delicately prying their locks when they were given orders to choke the media and fix the ELRC cannon respectively. After the two officers left them alone, Flores finally took off her helmet just as Liam freed himself from the death grip of his restraints.
Helmet in one hand, necklace in the other, Flores reminded him of those 20th century gunslingers. Ready for a fight but unsure of the enemy.
"Something I can do, ma'am?" he asked, wishing he had a helmet to hide behind. Her expression suddenly screamed murder and he didn't want to be the latest victim.
"You can start by obeying my orders." She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway, blocking his path. He could hear the busy life of the jarheads moving Makos and settling up patrols, the view shielded by her armored body.
Liam stood casually and clasped the outer collar of his armor with both hands, instinctively bracing himself for another onslaught. "I needed to confirm some things."
"Confirm what?" Flores nearly shouted allowing him to see something other than calm for the first time since he joined the Dub, "that your stupidity nearly got you and Vega killed?"
There was truth to her words and it cut deep. Liam knew he was responsible for putting Vega under fire, but that's just how the battle played out this time. Besides the is a soldier just like all of them. "They were ready to open fire on civilians. We had to act."
"You were supposed to wait for backup," she stated in a way that sounded eerily like Brock.
Liam chuckled coldly, unable to believe what he was hearing. But her hard eyes told him she was serious.
Suddenly his suit felt hot, too hot. Liam almost ripped his chest plate open as frustration boiled over. His heart shuddered as if licked by flame.
"I did wait!" Liam yelled when the anger finally surfaced. The people in power only seemed to care about orders and their execution, not the civilians they affected. He wanted to believe Flores was different but every attempt to appease this woman was met with scorn, a warning or these ridiculous little confrontations and he was sick of it. Covering the distance between them he got right in her face and met her fury head on. "I waited and people got killed, slaughtered by that maniac and his friends. A little boy lost his life for fuck's sakes. Doesn't that mean anything?"
Flores looked momentarily stunned, not by his outburst but at whatever data chose that moment to stream into her omni-tool.
Liam couldn't believe it. Here he was pouring out his frustration but her omni-tool was more important.
His breathing came out harsh and laboured as every muscle in his body quaked with rage. Liam felt his heart struggle to keep up as panic bubbled in his chest. It didn't make any sense. The doctors did a full physical, everything was alright...
He took a step back but didn't get far as Flores grabbed his collar and yanked the release. His chest plate came away with a suctioned hiss and clanked to the floor with steam rising out.
When cold air siphoned into his lungs, Liam felt his body temperature return to normal under Flores' speculative gaze. He couldn't explain what happened but one projection from her omni-tool displayed everything he needed to know. A full schematic of his suit showed temperature regulation malfunctions along the chest plate.
Putting a hand out to steady himself, he stared at it in disbelief. The shields were down and didn't protect him from Ontarom's scorching sun while they were out there. He didn't have time to run his armor by the engineers and as such exposed himself to an unnecessary risk. Sure it looked ridiculous now, but at the time he was only thinking of getting to her, of making sure she was okay and now...
He didn't say anything for there was nothing to say. She just proved he couldn't take care of his own damn armor and there was nothing he could say in defence.
"It's not just your armor," the captain confirmed, "this isn't the first time I've seen your vitals spike—"
"—that's not exactly uncommon in our line of work," Liam managed, but her impatient look shut him up.
"You need help," she snapped. Liam could feel her eyes on him as he hung his head in defeat. "You clearly weren't treated for PTSD so consider this an order. Get help or get the hell off my ship."
It wasn't the first time someone put it to him so bluntly but Liam shook it off and watched her boots retreat out the Kodiak door.
~O~
It felt good to tell someone else but it still changed nothing. The standing orders were there and he had a decision to make. Submit to this counseling interview or pack his bags.
"That's quite the ultimatum," Chakwas mused, as she put down her datapad, "but I'm glad you're here. We have an opening with our psychiatrist Lieutenant Dr. Raymond Walsh."
Liam was unmoved. This all sounded like the trivial crap those shrinks fed him after Elysium, always passing him off to the next peer like he was some hot potato in a ring of merry-go-shrink.
"I don't understand," he said, picking at the leather armrest of his chair before looking back to her, "I thought I'd be able to talk to you?"
There it was, that look of pity and concern lined her features as she stopped typing. She looked simultaneously honored and regretful and Liam had his answer. "I'm not qualified to provide psychotherapy," she explained.
"I've already been through this," Liam pleaded, like a gambler on a losing streak. "I had counselors before and they don't get it. Most of them aren't in your shoes seeing the results first-hand everyday."
This time she leaned forward, eyes quivering with apology as she spoke in a reassuring but regretful tone, "Liam I assure you, Lieutenant Walsh is an expert in the field. He's worked with countless soldiers and—"
"I want you."They both grew silent at his confession. Her eyes widened momentarily probably wondering what she did to earn his trust, but he was determined to stick with her. Something about this woman screamed understanding, her kindness permeated every inch of this office and most of all her discretion would let him keep some shred of his career intact. "I don't need every level of officer knowing what I'm going through and it's got nothing to do with pride. Hand in that report and I'll lose everything. You know it," he murmured quietly.
It was pathetic but something Sasha said long ago finally hit home. One day that uniform will be all you have left...
It hurt at the time but she was right. The military was the only life he'd ever known, seeing a shrink would put him at risk for a section 8 and he knew in his gut that he was nowhere near that unstable. If he started formal counseling there was no way of knowing where those records could end up and who could use the information to pull his strings. After all, Elysium was the day a war hero emerged. The Alliance wouldn't want contradictions to their official story floating around.
Chakwas still had yet to say a word. Every thought process was on high alert as her eyes swept over him, but she didn't seem interested in the 'best possible story'. She seemed to genuinely care.
When her gaze shifted to the large window overlooking the medbay, Liam felt a pang of guilt. His throat closed and though he wanted to say something the words never came. She had bigger responsibilities than just him, ones he should've seen before bothering her with all his problems.
"I'm sorry," he choked out before rising, "forget I said anything."
Her attentive gaze snapped back to him. "Wait—"
But he was already out the door and striding fast towards the elevator. Many techs jumped from his path, unsure of what to say as Chakwas called after him. The doors closed on her plea. Alone in the tiny box Liam sank to the floor and rubbed a hand through his hair.
o~O~o
Location: Tech-ops Wing— Cerberus Frigate 'Albatross', drifting the outer orbit of the Newton System in stealth mode.
"So we risked our lives for garbage?" Dmitri asked, scanning the dissected wreckage that the technicians deemed safe.
"Cleverly concealed garbage, yes," the lead tech expert with a bad haircut replied, switching his nervous gaze to Petrovsky. He looked no older than his daughter, Petrovsky noted. "It appears that she put legitimate fragments of the research data in the main core, then hid the arming matrix beneath so that if anyone attempted to decrypted the whole thing—"
"Boom!" Banes cackled from his seat directly under Miranda's watchful gaze. "See Ivan, your precious agents won't hesitate to kill you."
"Be that as it may, they still have valuable data stored in their greyboxes. Until they're recovered, we can't harm them," Miranda interjected, slamming an icepack into Bane's chest. "Keep pressure on that."
Petrovsky was both ashamed and grateful to share the burden of Banes with someone else. But as much as he wanted to question their disheveled state and Bane's wound, there were more important things at hand.
"What do we do now? We can't go back to the site, salvage crews are already there," Sveta said from her seat atop the table cross-legged as she picked at the tech bits. The young technician beside her had already given up and moved for the med-kit. Switching roles from technologist to medic without instructions to do so, at least he was useful. Thank god the support staff needed little direction.
"We keep looking," Miranda spoke again. Her commanding tone soured the faces of his two operatives but Petrovsky only smiled. "Elena Flores should be our highest priority. Her research—"
"—My research!" Banes barked, as he carefully smeared medi-gel around his charred flesh.
"—on the rachnii," Miranda continued, moving aside as the tech prepped a drill every soldier was familiar with. The bullet extractor was the most painful tool in a med-tech's arsenal, "is key to understanding a phenomenon called indoctrination."
"Indoctrination?" Petrovsky asked, he was sure he heard Elena talk about it before but due to the nature of her work the exact details were sealed even from him. "What is that exactly?"
"I don't know," Miranda said with a slight shake of her head, "but if it's rachnii tech then we need to be ready for any possible retaliation."
"If I had been allowed to wipe them out back then, we wouldn't need anything now—agh!" Banes grimaced as the tech pressed the drill against his skin and extracted a bullet. From its dull head and conductive copper sheath, Petrovsky could see it was only a stun round. The same kind used in training exercises.
"Okay, I have to ask. What happened with you two?" Sveta inquired, watching them intently.
"Nothing that's relevant." Miranda left it at that before turning back to Petrovsky. "I've just been informed that Operative Xiang is at large and we're still looking for Operative York. But we might have a breakthrough with Kassel and Flores, one of my sources confirmed their whereabouts in New Thebes. We can capture them if we act now."
Petrovsky was impressed. This young woman came highly recommended from the Illusive Man himself. Although he was no stranger to up and comers who started out strong and quickly burnt out, Miranda Lawson wasn't displaying any signs of fatigue that came with her new found position. There might be hope for her yet.
"Do you know anything about this indoctrination weapon, Armistan?" Petrovsky asked, scrutinizing the psychopath.
But nothing in his widening grin betrayed a lie. "I know that if I had it, I wouldn't be here," Banes sneered.
"That's not what I asked," Petrovksy spoke, feeling his patience wane. Banes was just toying with him now.
"My research is a pile of ash and smithereens on Akuze. Flores stole it from me and I'm going to get it back," Banes declared, grabbing a fistful of the tech's shirt and yanked him close. "That hurt like hell. You like playing rough, don't you?"
No sooner had Banes' biotics glowed, that Miranda flared hers in response. "What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Making sure he did a good job," Banes replied and stood up, hauling the shaking tech high above him with one black-veined hand.
"Put him down, Banes," Petrovsky commanded, successfully hiding the futility in his voice. When that mad man got a hand on a tech there was no stopping him.
Just as predicted, Banes ignored everyone and launched the poor technician into the air. The man screamed, as he sailed over Dima and Sveta, heading face-first towards the steel wall.
Petrovsky watched in horror. At this trajectory the man's neck would snap against the supports, another life would be lost and the ship's crew would surely mutiny now.
The tech's screams died when he suddenly stopped, just inches from the wall. All attention shifted to Miranda, eyes blue, arms extended as she used all her focus to lower him onto the floor.
Petrovsky was no expert on biotics but he knew very few human biotics had the power to levitate mass like that. It seemed to come at a physical expense, as Miranda gripped a nearby table to keep herself steady.
Banes slowly came to her side, clapping with each step. "Well done, Lawson. Well done."
"Are you okay?" Dima asked, pushing him out of the way and reaching for her hand.
But Miranda waved him off and stood on her own. "I'm fine."
"Dmitri, Banes, prepare for our departure to New Thebes," Petrovsky ordered, before turning to Svetlana who was crouched by the tech, "get him to the medbay."
As Dima and Sveta got to work, Banes donned another Cerberus branded shirt while Miranda shook off any sign of earlier weakness. "I'm going to confirm mission parameters with my contact," Miranda announced.
She started to walk past him but Petrovksy spoke, "A moment, please Ms. Lawson." He shot Banesa look when the sandy blonde head popped through the collar of his new shirt. "Alone."
Banes grinned, winked to Miranda and left.
"His wound?" Petrovsky inquired as soon as the doors closed. As much as he wanted to turn a blind eye, Banes was still a part of his crew. Not to mention the Illusive Man made it very clear that his most prized mad scientist should remain in one piece.
"Training exercise," she explained, only to elaborate when he didn't buy what she was selling. "I got...a bit carried away. It won't happen again."
"Not a day goes by without someone trying to kill him." Petrovsky huffed back a laugh before considering the serious matters at hand. "But I find it difficult to believe he knows nothing about this indoctrination weapon after studying it for years."
"I understand your concern, Lieutenant-General," Miranda said as she sauntered over to dissected tech bits and snagged a piece of ancient circuitry. "Rest assured I'll keep an eye on him."
She crushed it with biotics and let the powdered plastic rain over the rest. Petrovsky allowed the corner of his mouth to curl into a smile. This woman was starting to take after Banes in theatrics, but unlike her crazy cohort he trusted her self-control.
"You have no idea how much that pleases me," Petrovsky admitted, clasping his hands behind his back and surveying her carefully. Despite the obvious fatigue her earlier manoeuvre demanded, she stubbornly refused to show any weakness. He smiled, his daughter was the same way. "Are you alright?"
"Just fine. You wanted to discuss something?" Though her voice was calm, he heard the undertone of impatience carefully hidden beneath a cool mask. As much as he wanted to test this young woman and see what she was made of, Petrovsky knew this was the time to be candid and let his own mask fall.
"As a matter of fact I do...it's about Shepard." He took a deep breath, it was now or never. "I'm sure you—"
"I know." Miranda moved to face him, her face betraying nothing. "I've read your dossier."
"Then you know that I'm going to ask that no harm comes to him," Petrovsky said, looking to push past the fact that she had just admitted to looking at classified information. Not that he was surprised, she was a spy after all. Though maybe this confession was her way of showing trust, he couldn't be sure.
"Of course." A ghost of a smile flickered across her visage as she regarded him evenly. "My goal is to secure those greyboxes. Nothing more."
"Wonderful." Petrovksy plastered on his best smile. Their masks slid back into place and there was nothing more to be said. "Carry-on," he dismissed.
As Miranda walked away a sense of dread overcame him. The spark of loyalty in her eyes meant one thing; she wouldn't let this mission fail. That translated to certain death for anyone who got in her way. Petrovsky only hoped he didn't have to choose between work and family on this battlefield.
o~O~o
Location: Rooftop/Snipers training post—SSV Dublin—Ontarom
The flat roof of the Dub was a great elevation point for sniper practice runs. From the makeshift crow's nest atop the mast, snipers had the best vantage point for all stationary targets surrounding the grounded ship. Below was the instructor's area complete with binoculars and mesh directly on the Dublin's roof which served to make sure no one burned their ass on the ship's steel frame. Something Liam was thankful for as he sat cross legged and peered through his binoculars.
The stuffed dummy they set up 600 yards away swayed with the wind, indicating a conditional change that Liam checked on his Omni-tool. Crosswind at 5 knots, 192° southwest required a correction of 8° on the scope. Powerful VI's on the more advanced sniper rifles made this correction automatically, but on entry level models like the Mantis it was almost always better to trust your Omni-tool data and calibrate manually. At least that's what Liam thought he explained to Hunter, but as the chief lost another bullet to the wind Liam sighed and shook his head.
Hunter had potential there was no doubt about it. He mastered the indoor range and was now rated to hit a target from 600 yards, quite a feat considering he couldn't hit paper from 100 when they started. But what Liam spent countless hours teaching him indoors was suddenly lost on the kid when they hit the makeshift open range.
As Hunter finally clued into his mistake and started tweaking his scope, Liam put his hands behind his head and stretched out to look at the sky. The safety mesh met his back, yet he could still feel the heat permeating from beneath.
The sky was finally blue. No more overcast or night instead of morning, just clear blue with cumulus clouds in the distance. It was much better compared to the artificial sky of the citadel.
Eight year old Michael loved the Citadel sky. It meant the world to him and he always tried to draw the shape of the clouds but came up with funny little squiggles that made Sasha laugh. But the little guy didn't know clouds were fake back then. What does he think of them now?
Liam smiled, as the memories washed over him. He missed those afternoons. It was bad enough that he was torn from his family, but they hadn't returned a single call either. He checked the omni-tool for messages. None were displayed.
So his thoughts spiraled back to Flores and her ultimatum. On one hand he could pack up and run to the Citadel before the Alliance dragged his ass back to X-19. Just seeing that kid's face again would be worth the pain of returning to crap work.
His fist clenched as he watched his protégé put theory to practice up top and finally grazed the target. Or maybe...no, he didn't need to bother Karin. It was stupid to go there in the first place, not everyone appreciated a reprimand on their record.
"There you are," Vega's familiar voice boomed overhead. The platform vibrated with each pound from his boots.
Liam rose to a sitting position and watched him approach. There was still a slight limp to his step and a heavy bandage snared his arm but otherwise the man looked ready for action. "James, saved you a seat."
"Yeah?" Vega asked, squatting to sit beside him. The arms master looked uncomfortable this high up, and if Liam had to guess this was probably his first time on the Dub's roof. "What's playing?"
"Greatest hits," Liam replied, raising a hand to crow's nest above them, "I give you my protégé."
The distinct crack of a Mantis echoed through the air. Liam peered through the binoculars around his neck, only to find that nothing hit the stationary dummy downrange. The dust cleared, revealing nothing but the creak of metal from Firebase Dagger just a few feet away.
Vega snatched the binoculars and saw the same underwhelming conclusion. "Protégé huh? Looks like he's still got a long way to go."
"Tell me about it," Liam groaned, and plopped back onto the mat with a smile. "But you know what? When we first came here the kid couldn't hold a gun. I believe in him."
"Ever thought there might be a reason for that?" Vega asked, over his shoulder.
Liam frowned. Aside from the captain who seemed to have a problem with everybody doing anything these days, no one else voiced concerns about Hunter's training. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Vega snorted as his look turned dismissive. "Sorry Loco. I share this stuff with Alliance personnel aboard the SSV Dublin only."
Liam quirked a brow. "That fast huh?"
"What did you think you could just leave without anyone noticing?" Vega pressed, but Liam caught the quick look of betrayal in his eyes. "Fat chance Loco."
"I'm not leaving...not right away at least," Liam tried to assure, all the while wondering who could've ratted him out.
"Ellie says you have to decide between a shrink and packing your bags," Vega said, slipping a hand beneath his oil streaked white shirt and scratching his back. "I don't see a shrink so that means..."
Great. With Ellie running her mouth it would only be a matter of time before the whole ship got on his case. "I can't see a shrink James."
"Can't or won't?" Vega bristled, turning around to fully face him.
"Pick one!" Liam replied, tired of everyone trying their best to piss him off today. "At this point I don't really care."
"Well I sure as hell do! I didn't follow you into that mosh-pit, got my ass shot up and broke an expensive prototype just so you could turn your back and leave me with the rest of it," Vega yelled, only to look away.
Liam sucked down a smile. They were acting like some old married couple, but he chose to keep that observation to himself. Instead he sat up and balanced himself on one arm. "Look I already told you no shrinks," Liam explained in a much calmer tone, "they don't understand."
"As far as I understand they don't have to," Vega shot back, minus the earlier venom in his words. Now he just looked determined. "What you need to do is figure your shit out, Loco. How long have you been this way?"
"Oh I don't know...probably as long as you've been avoiding the medical augmentation," Liam replied, not ready to be counseled by 'Doctor James Vega'.
Vega's eyes grew wide. That was the nature of these medical reports, they were always open to someone higher up and Vega was living proof of that.
"Whoa, wait a sec. Those were confidential," James threw hands up and looked to him quizzically. "Why'd you even bother?"
"You were breathing like a chainsaw back there," Liam stated matter-of-factly, thankful for the change of topic. "You have asthma but you refused to disclose it, James. A simple procedure could fix that for—"
But Vega was having none of that. "Hold up. This ain't about me, Shepard. I can deal with my condition," he said jabbing a finger into his chest. "You, you're falling apart. How long before you shoot someone with that pistol of yours?"
"Already have. You were there," Liam replied smoothly as he plopped back down.
"I'm serious, Loco. See the shrink," James said before adding, "Chakwas was looking everywhere for you."
He didn't want to think about what happened only hours earlier. "She's a doctor not a shrink. She can't help me James."
"Bullshit. The crew likes and trusts her and she's out there looking for you. If you can't do this shrink thing then at least ask for some meds," Vega chided.
"I'm not taking drugs," he replied, getting tired of explaining himself. "Look, Vega I appreciate this intervention I do. But this is the end of the line."
"Listen to yourself. You're a war hero, an inspiration to half the jarheads around here, a shining beacon to everyone on Earth and the best the Alliance has to offer. Don't throw it all away because of this," Vega practically pleaded.
Of course it was no surprise that James chose that moment to deliver a speech that would give his little brother a run for his money. Liam chewed on that for moment, struck by how much one person could believe in him but ultimately done listening.
Sticking a hand in the air, Liam pointed to the little spec above them that represented Hunter. Hundreds of meters up above all by himself in that crows nest. "I'm going to make sure that kid lives up to his dream," Liam said with finality. "Then I'm gone. Sorry, partner.
He hated that look of pity James had as they stayed silent and let the howl of wind wash over them. James stood to go and said something but the howl of wind drowned him out.
"I missed that. Say again?" Liam asked.
"I said, he shot the previous arms master," Vega hollered, above the dust storm. When it dissipated Vega's gaze was pure iron. "That's why I was brought along. Figures huh? Guess I should watch my back. Not like anyone here is going to."
As James limped away, Liam sat in horrified silence, watching his protégé put theory to practice.
o~O~o
Location: Undisclosed safe house—New Thebes, Anhur.
"I can't track down Jin Xiang. But thanks to the email chatter comin' from the Ontarom facility, she killed her tail and skipped town in a hurry," Gus reported.
The small hint of an Aussie accent perked her ears, but Elena didn't react, instead opting to file the information in favor of figuring out where her people were. When he formally allowed her into his 'lair' she was amazed with all the tech at his disposal. Unlike the proper and ordered state of the house, the basement functioned like some cyberpunk hacker paradise. Thick cables and wires sprawled across the floor. What had to be thousands of data-pads were scattered on desks that did double duty holding more than their fair share of screens.
Twenty displays made a giant screen that ate an entire wall, each projecting random information that Elena couldn't make heads or tails from. News reports, file dumps, real-time wiretaps and surveillance. If she didn't know any better she would've guessed this guy was the Shadow Broker himself.
But she did know better. And now she was lost in the sea of screens, trusting a stranger to reassure her that everything was on-track.
"You're sure she's there?" Elena asked, above the sound of running water overhead. For such a modern house it had crappy insulation so they were aware of Mark showering upstairs.
Gus, probably annoyed that she was hovering over his shoulder, tapped a few keys and brought a live feed on four main screens. The projected image showed Selina York, bound and blindfolded but otherwise unharmed in an undisclosed location.
Elena relaxed and let her hands pat over his shoulders. "Thank you," she praised, before flopping onto the comfortable leather chair beside him.
"My pleasure," he returned, with the twinkle of a smile behind his black rimmed glasses.
In another life he could've passed for Mark's brother. Same jet black hair minus the rolled out of bed look, his eyes were a paler blue and the light freckles lining his cheeks didn't quite fit the entire picture of a recluse operator/hacker extraordinaire. He was just too well put together for someone involved in this business.
When he got back to coordinating her mission assets, Elena didn't know if she should stay or go. Sure there was a whole empty house upstairs, but she wasn't about to go snooping through his stuff, regardless of how much her internal alarm screamed for her to do just that. Truth was, she was tired of espionage. This fucked up dance of not trusting anyone was draining...but at the same time it's why she was alive today.
The image of Jeremy flashed on one of the news screens and Elena instantly diverted her gaze. It would be months before the media forgot Jeremy, but he would haunt her dreams for a lifetime, she had no delusions about that.
"You two were close?" Gus asked, without looking up. His face scrunched in concentration as he focused on hitting the right keys as if the wrong one would blow up the world.
"He was a good friend," Elena mumbled to herself.
This time Gus stopped and turned back to her. "A lot older than you though."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Elena bristled. Savior or not, this bastard wasn't going to ruin her friend's reputation by barking up the wrong tree.
"Forgive me," Gus raised his hands in surrender as that smile returned. "I just don't understand how you managed to outrank him is all. Impressive if you ask me, given his experience and... experiments."
Well no one asked you. His intrusive remark brought some disturbing memories to her mind's eye. Back then she also wondered why Jeremy wasn't the head of Tier 6, but when he showed her the answer she sure as shit wished she had never found out. At the same time she learned the full extent of the Illusive Man's forgiveness. It was both comforting and unsettling at the same time. If Jeremy hadn't been such a good friend she would've considered turning his ass over to the Alliance MP's herself.
"How do you know Mark?" Elena asked, wanting a change of topic but also because she needed to figure this guy out before she trusted him.
Gus resumed typing. "A long time ago, a mission in Athens was hijacked. Jeremy and Mark were left stranded behind enemy territory with valuable intel in their possession. When they got through to me, I was able to procure their safe passage out of the city. Mark has been a friend to me ever since."
"Ah, so you were their guardian angel. I'm impressed," Elena remarked, pushing some data pads aside with her feet as she reclined. "that was some feat, getting a chopper down there."
Gus only shrugged off her compliment. "Someone had to do it. I was just the right man for the job."
Elena remembered every detail of that mission thanks to pouring over all Tier 6 reports prior to meeting her team. At the time she just wanted to get a sense of the people she would soon be leading. But something about those mission reports never really gelled. The deployments were predominantly Earth-based, which was strange considering how their wing operated in space. Even back then she had the sinking suspicion that someone in space was getting nosy, but with the secretive nature of the Alliance-branded Cerberus at the time, it was impossible to blow whistles without proof.
The monitor with Selina's footage pinged back her location. Elena's eyes whipped to the screen as Gus' typing intensified. "What's happening?"
"She's just been located," Gus relayed, "two kilometers north of here. A warehouse district under batarian state control."
Elena rose with some disdain. Heart drumming in her chest, she clasped her hands behind her back and paced. Something she saw Petrovsky do countless times had finally rubbed off on her.
Gus looked to her questioningly. "I suppose you'll be heading there soon?"
"You bet," Elena punctuated with a nod as she stared at the screen bank. "How does it look?"
His fingernails drummed against the metallic desk, as he waited her out. "Warehouse is unsecured. Likely just a stash point for the batarian gang responsible for the sale."
"Yeah," Elena said wistfully, brushing a spec of dust from her black leather jacket, "must be."
As Gus arranged ground transport and air support, Elena stood to the side, only moving away when he was done. "Alright, I've got you an artillery mounted vehicle. It should get you close enough to the warehouse perimeter and leaves as soon as you do. Questions?"
"Just one," Elena said, as she smoothly drew her Harpy pistol and trained it on his head. "Why did you betray us?"