(A/N) Hey guys, we're baaaaack! time for this Saturday's update in Phase Two: Betrayal! Hope all those reading in the States had a great 4th of July yesterday, and that you'll all forgive me for how I opened this A/N, paraphrasing Independence Day! This chapter was written by the marvelous Minaethiel, and it's an Alaska chapter, so you know you're in for something good! Personally, this is one of my favourite from this round of chapters, and it kickstarts a bunch of twists and turns that'll make for some fantastic reading!
Enjoy!
Chapter Fifty-Eight – Hunting Party
Agent Alaska
Written by Minaethiel
"You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you." – Haruki Murakami
The pelican ride down to the penal colony was spent mainly in silence, save for the occasional correspondence between the pilot and the Mother of Invention. Their orders were clear: get down to the prison, and find out where Ark and the others had disappeared to. While Project Freelancer hadn't been in a position to aid the friendly forces stationed in Whitegate, they were still in a position to pick up any hint as to where the Crimson Sun could have fled to. Alaska calmly looked around the bird, taking in his squad. Wyoming was busy checking the sniper he had brought along, a battle rifle propped up beside him. The squad leader seemed intent on his task, though Alaska knew he'd be determined to find any trace as to the whereabouts of their enemies. Cal was silently looking out of the windows of the cockpit of the pelican, watching as the scenery flew by. 'Sota had his hands clasped, and his elbows were resting on his knees as Nebraska asked him about his thoughts on the objective.
Alaska himself was content with the relative silence as they neared their objective. The two DMRs he had brought were propped next to him, along with a couple of grenades. Though the Crimson Sun had supposedly gone, it was unknown what the squad would find down in the prison. There could still be prisoners loose, or perhaps they all went with the Crimson Sun. A large scale outbreak had certainly occurred, and the Director had claimed that many prisoners were still loose in the surrounding area, being hunted down by the UNSC. Regardless, there was no way any of them would be caught unprepared by their foes. They were Freelancers for a reason, after all.
As the Pelican touched down, Alaska had to keep back a stinging comment at the scene that beheld them. UNSC forces were rushing to and fro, some shouting orders, and others carrying bodies. The dead varied between those who were evidently prison guards, and those who had been prisoners. In any other prison riot you'd expect dead prisoners to number in the majority, but in this instance this estimation would have been incorrect. The Crimson Sun's handiwork had been what ultimately allowed the prison to fall.
"How nice of them to begin processing the scene for us!" Alaska remarked. "Now we won't have to go searching for a needle in a corpse pile."
"I wouldn't be so sure about a warm welcome, chap," Wyoming warned, nodding to a very irate looking soldier striding towards them. Cal growled almost inaudibly in frustration, clearly impatient to begin their investigation of the aftermath of the uprising.
The soldier had reached them, and she removed her helmet to reveal short blonde hair and unwelcoming hazel eyes.
"Care to explain what you're doing here, gentlemen? As you can see we're in the middle of an operation here, and your presence is distracting us from getting our jobs done."
Wyoming stepped forward, nodding slightly in greeting. "My name is Agent Wyoming, and I'm here on behalf of Project Free-"
"I know who you represent," the woman interrupted impatiently. "I was told to expect a group of you down here. I'm Lieutenant Abigail Berry; I'm overseeing the clean up and security here. I also have orders not to allow you through the prison unescorted."
Cal snorted, audibly this time around, and the lieutenant shot him a glare. Wyoming turned to Cal and gave the smallest shake of his head before turning his attention back to Lieutenant Berry.
"If it's due to classified information about Sergeant Major Olumbu being killed here, we're already well aware of it. We only wish to find any evidence as to the whereabouts of the Crimson Sun, unless you have any leads for us?"
Alaska could tell from the slight rise of Wyoming's shoulders that he expected to be allowed to continue their job. He could also tell that Wyoming was not at ease with being held up, particularly since the lieutenant had been told to expect them. From past missions, Alaska knew the UNSC wasn't happy with being shown up by superior soldiers. If anything, that was probably the reason that the lieutenant didn't want them to be allowed free reign through the facility. The thought amused Alaska, though he did nothing to show it.
Lieutenant Berry crossed her arms and shook her head.
"It's not about whether or not information is classified- it's about my orders, and those orders are not to allow you to search unescorted. So if you're still so intent on searching for information, I'm supposed to come with you."
She didn't seem too thrilled about the idea, which was made evident as she shot warning glances to the other soldiers under her guidance. The activity in the front of the prison was what would be expected after a large-scale battle. Bodies were lined up, either being prepared for a burial, or to be burned. Prisoners and soldiers alike were among the dead, though Alaska noticed a distinct lack of Crimson Sun forces. The UNSC soldiers that weren't carrying bodies were digging holes, and he could tell by the size and shape which ones would be used for burials and burnings.
"It won't be necessary for you to escort us," Wyoming insisted, allowing a bit of annoyance to enter his voice. 'Sota nodded, speaking up in a lower, but no less firm, tone.
"We won't be in the way of you or your men. We'll be gone quicker without an escort as well."
"Orders are orders," the lieutenant mumbled in reply. She gave a sharp wave of her hand. "Follow me. I'll take you to where the uprising first took place."
There wasn't much choice in the matter. Wyoming stepped up to walk beside the lieutenant, clearly unwilling to be paraded around like bothersome officials. Inside the prison was a stark difference to the outside. Blood spattered the walls and the floors where bodies had lain, giving the place a vibe that Alaska could really appreciate. The cold walls, which no doubt used to contain the cries and insults of guards and prisoners alike, were unnaturally quiet, as if reeling from the amount of violence that had occurred.
Now this is what I'm talking about.
The UNSC was being extremely thorough, the extra effort probably due to a need to cover up what a colossal failure their security had been. It was a wonder to Alaska how three of the most wanted men in the galaxy could have infiltrated a goddamn prison, of all places. No, this was certainly not a failure the UNSC wanted as common knowledge. However, he couldn't help but feel both amused and irritated at their desire for secrecy. If the lieutenant was so eager to get the job done, she should have allowed them free reign. Searching for the Crimson Sun's whereabouts would be a lot easier without extra baggage watching their every movement.
However it became clear that information would be hard to come by. Neb nodded towards an administrative room as they passed, muttering just loud enough for Alaska and 'Sota to hear.
"They're boxing everything away. How are we supposed to find a hint of where they went if we can't look through any files?"
"They're hiding away more than just their files, Nebraska," Alaska remarked, watching a pair of soldiers carrying another body towards the entrance. "Sometimes the dead can tell us more than the living."
"The dead can't exactly give precise coordinates for the Crimson Sun's base, now can they?" Cal asked tartly.
"Of course not," Alaska retorted. "However, at this rate they're going to be the only things to rely on. Our best bet would be to search the warden's office," he added, making the suggestion loud enough for Wyoming to hear.
The white Freelancer nodded, turning to the lieutenant, whose eyes flashed with an unknown emotion.
"We would appreciate a look at his office, when we're done investigating the area where the uprising first occurred," Wyoming stated, his tone making it clear that they were going to go there with or without permission.
"Very well," the lieutenant grumbled. And what could she do to stop us? Alaska wondered, smiling behind his visor. It wasn't as if her men could present a challenge to their group. Abruptly, the officer made a right turn, where the exercise yard of the prison lay.
"From what we could gather, the riot started out here. Well…riot seems a poor word to describe the uprising that occurred – rebellion, maybe. At first the guards reported that a large group of prisoners seemed to be having an altercation. When a group went out to separate those involved, the prisoners turned on the guards. That's how they got armed in the first place. The guards in the towers were taken out next, which left the group free to storm the prison."
"Why did the guards posted at the doors not just shut the doors and lock them out?" 'Sota questioned.
The lieutenant sighed, muttering a curse. "The guards stationed at the door were part of the group to go outside and break the fight up. There was no one to stop them from storming the prison."
Cal gave a disgusted snort and shook his head. "Well, no wonder the prison fell. You just let them walk in the front door. Next you'll be telling us that the Sergeant Major had no security detail."
Ignoring the scorn from the other Freelancer, Alaska narrowed his eyes and looked around. It probably wouldn't have mattered if the guards had closed the door; there was no doubt in his mind that Ark would have planned for that contingency. Regardless, the only sign that a fight had taken place outside were the numerous bloodstains where bodies had lain. Wyoming left Lieutenant Berry standing by the door and motioned for the team to take a look around the perimeter.
After about fifteen minutes of searching, Wyoming called everyone back together, and it was clear from the silence that no one had found anything of great importance. Alaska wasn't surprised in the least. Ark, Penn, and Harper weren't foolish enough to leave a clue out in the open as to their whereabouts.
"So," Alaska said, addressing the lieutenant, "what's the next stop on this wonderful tour?"
Lieutenant Berry allowed a slight scowl to cross her face before jerking her head towards a set of doors.
"The warden's office. That's where the Sergeant Major was killed. We've already looked and haven't found anything useful, however. I'll be surprised if any of you do."
With that, she walked off, looking back only to see if the band of freelancers was following. With each room they passed, it became more and more clear to Alaska that the chances of finding anything of value were slim. The UNSC were sifting through everything they could get their hands on, yet he knew none of them would recognize something important if it bit them on the nose. That was why the Director had sent them down here, after all. The lieutenant stepped through a door and was greeted with the salutes of five men and women.
"This team is here to search for any leads that may tell us where the Crimson Sun went. Keep an eye on them, but don't interfere. If you find anything," she added, addressing Wyoming , "have someone call me."
With that she spun on her heels and strode from the room. Alaska looked around, mildly surprised that a mere prison warden would have such an elaborate office. Nevertheless, filing cabinets had been emptied, and their contents stacked on every flat surface, negating the effect of the décor. Blood had pooled on the floor where bodies had lain, though they had been cleared just as the others had, and that improved the tone slightly, in Alaska's opinion, at least. There was an obvious absence of any spent casings or shells, Alaska noticed, frowning. The UNSC had evidently already cleared them up. Some of the warden's personal items were still in place, though one marine was beginning to box them up. 'Sota decided to search the desk, Cal on his heels, while Wyoming and Nebraska took to searching through a separate stack of files. The marines wordlessly made room for the other squad, and Alaska removed a stack that hadn't been disturbed.
He sifted through, finding files on various prisoners, but none of them were known associates of the Crimson Sun. Alaska predicted that any information that would have compromised any of the three "commanders" would have been disposed of, if Ark remained true to form. Admittedly, the information on some of the prisoners was fascinating, but from the frustrated sighs that sometimes burst from his companions, he figured that they were not as interested as he was. Nevertheless, as he put the stack back, one file in particular caught his eye. He could have sworn he'd seen a flash of a name… He dug the file out, eyes widening in a rare show of astonishment.
Alaska grabbed a duffle bag that had been haphazardly tossed to the side and stuffed the file inside. Nebraska shot him a look at the hasted movement.
"Did you find something, Al?"
He shook his head coolly, keeping his voice under control so as not to betray his find. "Nothing of importance, Nebraska. Just a method of carrying anything of interest out of the prison."
Nothing of importance indeed. The file he had swiped, at the top of the page, had the name "Moi Paris" printed in neat letters.
It was astonishingly hard for him to focus on finding any leads that would expose Ark and Penn after the find. Still, he kept up the search, and was almost glad when Wyoming finally gave the call to give up. Unsurprisingly, nothing had been found. Alaska could feel the irritation and frustration oozing off of the rest of the team. He hadn't been happy either, but at least his search hadn't been completely fruitless. Cal was almost boiling in his armor, and from the way Wyoming was clenching and unclenching his fists, Alaska determined that he was having his own battle to stay in control. 'Sota was irate, glancing at each marine they passed with an unseen glare. Neb seemed more disappointed than anything, and was silent as the group made their way out of the prison. Alaska hadn't released the duffle once, and he knew the rest of them thought it was a strange thing to hold onto.
However, none of them said a word as the Pelican descended to pick them up. The ride back to the ship was brooding and heavy, and it passed slower than Alaska would have liked, but when it did, his first stop was his room. After the debriefing, he would have plenty of reading material to catch up on. The Crimson Sun and its masters would have to wait for another day for his undivided attention.
He had more important leads to follow up.