A/N: musicluvr - What is this 'smoothly' you speak of? No plan ever goes smoothly. LOL
Sciencegal - Coyo is such a dork. I enjoy it.
DuckiePray - Surprises around the corner!
CHAPTER 31: STRIKE (PART 2)
Damn did Leonardo miss Donatello's tech-savvy. Until now he hadn't realized how much stress had been kept off his shoulders knowing the Genius could loop surveillance feeds or sabotage sectors with a few keystrokes. Without him, the Tonalquizca were left at the mercy of guessing blind spots in the underground tunnels, made all the more difficult by the surplus of strip fixtures, patrolling soldiers, and an awkward amount of Ayannite spears.
"Shit, were we here before?" Ollin asked. The warriors were crowded over one another to take up as little room as possible, and the older tribesman beside Leo peeked around the T-section corner. "Two-one-five."
"That room again," Huemac whined.
"This place is worse than tracking pitzol through the densest parts of the forest," Coaxoch added.
"How did our route form a circle?" Ollin continued. "Our turns were alternated."
"So we go the other way," Amoxtli said. He shifted at the pile's center, displacing Leonardo at the far bottom and Tlaloc at the top.
"We may have to kill the cameras," Leo muttered. He hated the idea; it drew attention and left a trail of breadcrumbs. But they were a strike team lost inside unfamiliar territory and no room for error.
"Yaoqui!" Huemac and Coalt whispered together.
The Tonalquizca backtracked as boots thumped against the concrete. Leo scanned the hall behind him for any options. He spotted an ajar door then tapped Tlaloc's shoulder. The leader followed the mutant's directive and made hand motions for his team to respond. They filed inside the room, clicking it shut behind them.
"Did he pass?" Coalt asked.
Leo smiled at how the teen pressed his ear against the door like he could hear anything beyond the metal slab.
"Wh—what are you doing here?" Cue trouble. Leo spun to find a willowy man in a lab coat. The scientist glared behind oversized glasses and shook. "You...you're one of them," he continued. "And you all must be..."
The man trailed off with a snarl. He arched sideways, reaching below a crowded desk. A clang then sounded—crisp and followed by the scientist's groan. He collapsed into a heap of discarded papers to reveal Coaxoch.
The teen gripped a surgical tray, burned face somewhat flush. "Was that okay?" she asked Tlaloc.
Tlaloc chuckled.
"What is this place?" Huemac's question held awe as well as fear.
Leonardo joined him in surveying the disarray room. Its lights came from a line of computer screens along the back wall and display cases that housed embalmed organisms in multiple rows. The warriors surveyed the jars, some sloshing the red-tinted liquid around.
"What is it?" Tlaloc asked.
"Genetic experiments," Leo answered.
A malformed fetus stole his attention, sunk his stomach. Its spine formed a corkscrew, its mouth frozen in a scream and its limbs fused to its torso. 'Project Demigod: Experiment 87' the plaque below it read.
"Leonardo," Coaxoch started, "what are genetic experiments?"
Leo stared at the fetus. "Morally questionable science or the future, depending on who you ask. Stem therapy, super-soldier programs, gene splicing; it means to change us into something we want. Or think we want."
"Sounds like a perversion of nature."
"Yet it is how I was made." The mutant smiled at Coaxoch, who held her tongue while silence filled the room.
He disregarded her to sift through papers along the desk where the computers were mounted. Their order made no sense, not that Leo could tell. There were mentions of a guy named Marco Rizzo—some human-Hawk experiment—a molecular breakdown of a 'Subject S' blood sample, and printed emails concerning the Davvu Stone. It wasn't referenced by its proper name; the scientists had called it 'The Stone.' But what other stone could contribute to configuring an IgR Disrupter?
'They found a way to detain Languu?' Leo thought. 'This is what that psychic was using that day at the river. Had he succeeded...'
The mutant saw a familiar face and pulled out a manila folder. Clipped to its top was Nia's picture, her pale expression doped. Was this from when she had been held captive? He scanned the file.
Subject Name: Nia Rosaline Anders
Age: 19
Sex: Female
Race: Languu-Human Hybrid
Priority: High
'High priority for his fountain of youth, eh?' Scoffing, Leo lowered his vision to the notes section.
October 3, 2011
Subject easily herded, a welcome break to the other one. Have extracted IgR proteins. Unstable. Self-destructive outside the host body. Will investigate further.
October 7, 2011
Transfusions successful. Milling blood for future complications. Requested permission for additional experimentation. Awaiting reply.
October 8, 2011
Permission granted. Proceeding with Project Demigod.
Demigod? Wasn't that the name of the room's experiments? Leo glanced over his shoulder at the under-lit jars a whole second before his stomach churned. Those things came from Nia?
October 10, 2011
Eggs and semen cultivated. Not near as much as I would like, but close encounters with Subject Blackout are both rare and dangerous. Lost an assistant to retrieve the sample. Bishop deemed it acceptable, so long as I show progress. Have many long nights ahead.
What were these people hoping to accomplish? The notes never said; they only listed failed experiments, over a hundred until Nia's release.
"How long will we stay, Tlaloc?" Ollin's voice broke Leonardo's concentration but didn't ease his tight stomach.
The mutant scanned the cluttered desk then raised a hand towards Huemec. "Touch nothing!" he shouted.
Too late; the teen's curiosity proved irresistible, and he pushed a button. Blinding lights filtered through a slender window above the desk. As Leo's sight adjusted, he heard growls, inhuman sounds, trilling. Beyond the window showed a padded cell with a figure suspended inside a metal circle. The body seemed to float, although Leo doubted that was through magic. Magnets, maybe?
"Ometeotl," Tlaloc whispered.
"What?" Leo asked.
"That." Amoxtli swallowed hard. "That is Zarr."
"Zarr? As in the hybrid who ate his parents?"
Amoxtli set his wide eyes on the mutant. "How do you know the story?"
"Coyo told me," Leo answered quickly and avoided incrimination by studying Zarr.
The hybrid's limp, bald head twitched as his trilling continued. His transparent skin glowed under LED lights, and Leo swore he could count the prisoner's bones. They were subtle, dark lines through the otherwise colorless body, almost hidden under blue-white veins. The captive looked up with pit-black eyes so large and pupil-less that the younger Tonalquizca stepped back with gasps when he hissed.
Was this a typical Tlatlaco? Was this what Zaddir feared Nia would become?
"Found Subject Blackout, I see," a new voice said. The Tonalquizca readied their spears towards where Xander stood in the open doorway. "Scary shit, huh?"
"I've seen scarier," Leo answered in English.
"Señor, I found them," Xander added, hand pressed against his ear. "Clear the training room. It'll be the easiest spot if things go south."
No restraints burdened Coyolxauhqui, yet she felt like Rook's prisoner. She obeyed his lead, traveled through another unnatural tunnel and up a strange moving box to enter a room twice the size of the last. Its ceiling rivaled a tree's height, and multiple clear-walled rooms hung suspended at its center.
"Look like hamster tubes, right?" Rook asked over his shoulder. "Observation stations. Gives a bird's eye view of what our training program has to offer. Good for notes, teaching newbies what to expect. Also, has comfy seats. This way."
Rook pulled Coyo by the arm onto a textured tile. She grimaced but was kept still when the tile shifted. It glided towards one of two giant platforms anchored to the curved walls and recessed into it before the duo moved again. It left the woman feeling queasy.
"Hola, Mano!" Rook greeted. He crossed the round platform to where the Tonalquizca stood behind a well-groomed soldier, adding, "Good work with our guests."
"Guests are welcomed," Leonardo spat.
"Who says you aren't?" Rook countered. "Too bad Bishop's missing this; you Hamatos haven't been in a facility for ages. Not since the baby. Oh, wait." As Leo growled, the silver-haired tlacatetza wagged a finger. "There was that time he had the hotheaded one, wasn't there? Wonder how that went."
"Are you unharmed?" Tlaloc asked Coyo in Nahuatl.
Rook gave a long, exasperated sigh. "English folks, please."
"Why we here?" Tlaloc continued.
"Shouldn't that be my line? You people invaded our privacy. And we're at fault? Ever hear of trespassing?"
"That's rich," added Leo, "coming from the people who've spent the last fifty years trying to invade a village."
"We do as necessary. Eh, Xan?" Xander turned away, silent while his superior grinned. "If you gave me a chance, you'd see I'm no monster. I want peace, too. Just ask your Madam Chief. I mean"—the man's nostrils flared with laughter—"at least she was civil enough to consider barter."
"Barter?" Tlaloc asked.
"A trade," Rook answered. "Your services for...what'd you call it? An Omipalan cure?"
Those who understood English stared at their Chieftain. Their expressions were unreadable, masking the alarm she sensed. She shook her head to signify it was a means to distract their enemy, but inside she considered complying long enough to save her brother.
"He would never forgive you," Leo told Coyo.
Rook glanced at them. "I miss something?"
No one answered.
"Alright." The senior agent whistled, arm bulging under his shirt as he stretched. "Here's the deal: are you in or out?"
Coyo's face scrunched. "In what?"
"Dios mío, the agreement, chica!" Rook gestured to the group with an emphatic hand. "Ask them. How many are as tired as you? How many would rather save their people than those life-sucking freaks? We're all human here. Well, with one exception. I'm willing to let that slide, though."
"Right." Leo scoffed. "Like you'd let me walk."
"Tortuga." Rook's dark eyes found the turtle-man. "I'm a big picture guy. Not everything needs to be reported. Xander can vouch for that. Can't ya, Mano?"
Xander kept his lips downturned and vision set on the platform's lipped edge. Almost everyone present knew about his psychic abilities; Coaxoch's face had been marred by them. That should make him a prime target for the Yaoqui, yet he stood beside his leader—obedient, silent, like a tool.
"Por favor, don't make me resort to alternative orders," Rook continued. He took slow steps backward and stroked his full beard. "Wouldn't it be pointless to come all this way just to die?"
"Tonalquizca purpose is to strike Yaoqui leader down," Tlaloc said.
"Until then, we won't return," added Leonardo.
"That so?" The tlacatetza's hand fell from his silver beard to his side as he shrugged. "Guess that leaves no choice. Xander, kill 'em. Everyone except the Madam Chief and mutant."
No sooner did the claps from Rook's shoes cease, did air whistle around Coyolxauhqui. A force shot her across the platform, and her heart skipped with the thud her back made against something solid. Hot pain spread through the arm she landed on, and, breathless, she stared through her wonky vision at a semi-transparent fence that crackled when she brushed it.
"We can make barriers, too," Rook said somewhere unseen. His voice sounded jumbled, distant, and it motivated the Chieftain to stand.
Her people charged Xander in hopes one warrior would venture close enough to cut him with Ayannite fury. They failed, each momentarily convulsing when their skin sizzled against the blue fence.
'This is why he never unarmed them,' Coyo realized. 'Their weapons cannot cause harm. Not this way.'
Ometeotl, think, Coyo! Your father would keep charging alongside the Tonalquizca, no matter how fruitless. Your grandmother would seek an escape. Your mother would offer herself as a peace token. What about you? What will you do?
"Xander!" Coyo called.
The man in black uniform hesitated. Leo's blade nicked his cheek, and with a snarl, he sent the turtle-man spinning onto his back shell.
"Xander," Coyo continued over the battle noise, "no need hurt! Help K'ekchi! K'ekchi help Xander!"
"What's with you people?" Xander flinched as if struck with the same pain his mind inflicted on those he fought. "First that Jincho. Then the mutant. Now you? Why are you all so damn insistent?"
"He Yaoqui," Tlaloc hissed. "No help!"
"Xander no bad," Coyo defended. Her bare feet slid ahead, weary about where the psychic tossed his invisible sweeps. "He hurt. Scared. He love."
Xander concentrated energy around his body, so the Tonalquizca spears clanked against air. "Shut up!"
Coyo's head shook. "Zaddir promise. Keep promise. Help. Xander no bad. Xander no want hurt. Is why he walk Xelihuiyan!"
"What do you mean?" asked Tlaloc in Nahuatl. His weapon bounced off Xander's force field, and his dominant arm vibrated as he stumbled back. "He has been inside our barrier?"
"That why Yaoqui know Tepiani," Coyo answered.
"And you did not tell us?"
"Xander want chance."
"You know nothing about me, Savage!"
Another force hit the Chieftain. It impacted from her waist down, causing her to bite her tongue when her chin met the metal floor. She spat out the metallic taste then stood again.
"Lizbeth," she said. Xander growled, arms outstretched with every Tonalquizca held against the crackling fence. Red dribbled from his nose, and her people screamed, but the woman kept her tone soft. "Lizbeth sick. Coyo understand pain."
"You don't—"
"Coyo brother sick. He decay. He dying."
Xander's psychic hold wavered just long enough for Coyo to step forward and the Tonalquizca to catch a breath. "Then you get why I'm doing this, what I would sacrifice for her!"
"Lizbeth live happy when other lives save her?"
"I..." Xander licked blood from his lips. "She wouldn't know."
"Xander would. Like Coyo know if she give Yaoqui the Teo. She can. Will not. Brother never want. Be unhappy. Hate Coyo! Lizbeth hate Xander if he destroy K'ekchi. Xander hate self."
"It'll haunt you," Leo interjected. He panted, kneeled on the floor, a hand at his side. "Trust me, the last thing you want is deaths on your conscious."
"Been there, done that," Xander spat. "What's a few more?"
The mutant glared through the red smeared across his face. "Genocide is no light matter. Consider what Bishop's asking. Consider his promises. What has he done to show that he can save Lizbeth? She could be dead by the time he bothers with a cure, but Zaddir is willing to heal her. Now. You have to make a choice."
"He's made a choice, Tortuga!" Rook's voice boomed all around. "He took an oath, is loyal to it, to me. Best not waste precious breath."
"Agreed," Tlaloc said. Spear lifted, he inched around Xander's invisible boundary like a stalking miztli. "He tlacatetza, beast. He kill children, mothers, fathers. No care. No heart. No love. No mercy!"
Tlaloc's spear rung so violently against Xander's shield that Coyo felt its vibrations in her chest. She sprung towards him on sore legs then smacked the weapon aside, making eye contact with the psychic.
"Why won't you just surrender?" Xander asked in a whisper.
"Why Xander fight for Lizbeth?"
The force field shrunk as Rook's voice boomed again, "Agent Hyde, quit screwing around! You can kill faster!"
He could, and Coyo smiled when Xander's expression softened with the realization that she knew he was withholding power.
"Hyde, you sorry, hijo de puta! If you can't do this simple thing, how will ya burn their village?"
"Xander no need," Coyo whispered back. "K'ekchi help."
"Can that Jincho, that freak, that"—Xander swallowed—"alien, really help?"
"Yes."
"If you're lying, I won't just burn your village; I'll decimate it. Understand?"
Coyo nodded, although she had no idea what decimate meant. It sounded severe, though, and she respected that.
"Well," Xander added, "here's to treason."