Chapter Eight
Making contact with the SA Liberation Front squad, turned out to be fairly straightforward. Twelve rebels, all either black or mixed-heritage; nine soldiers dressed in simple civilian clothes, each man looking like they came straight from one of the many street gangs plaguing South Africa, their hard bodies covered in tribal markings and tattoos. A field medic and an engineer, both of whom looked distinctly out-of-place, in both build and swagger, plus their sargeant, a hard-faced, stocky, muscular mixed-heritage woman in her early thirties, whose face looked like it might have been used as a punching bag, too many times. A few were augmented slightly, but none to the extent, that she was.
She might have dwarfed Yelena by at least a factor of two, in mass, counting the heavy-duty pair of cybernetic arms, crossed over her washboard-flat chest, evidence of far too much testosterone-intake during her workouts, and what looked like a chaingun assembly, integrated into her left arm structure at the elbow. To Yelena, it vaguely looked like Lawrence Barrett's setup, but lacking any and all finesse. Not that anyone ever accussed the former Tyrant heavy, of finesse, but he at least looked... vaguely... human, while not in combat mode, with his high-end chaingun arm assembly capable of reconfiguring into a regular limb, when not in use.
This woman... her arm assembly was very much non-modular. She couldn't reconfigure it into a hand, which meant she would never be able to pass for a regular person, even during the bygone golden age of augmentation. Her facial implements certainly didn't help matters. She had titanium plates very much bolted onto her forehead and cheeks, as well as the back of her head under the small patch of scalp on top. The crudity of the bolts, and the lack of transitory tissue, probably meant a lot of Neuropozyne was needed, to keep her body from rejecting it all in short order.
I have seen attempts at cranial armouring... but this is ridiculous.
The Russian woman thought, bringing to mind the Ogre program, for the Tyrant support corps. Their hardened polymer-alloy masks were literally bolted to their faces, making them impossible to remove. But they still looked vaguely like a human under a balaclava. An attempt was made to humanise them to an observer. And the grafting techniques were very sophisticated, resulting in less body-shock and optimising on the anti-rejection drug usage.
The woman in front of her... she looked like an imitation of an Ogre, put together by the lowest bidder. Badly. Or more likely, patched together in some nonsanctioned augment chop-shop in the slums of Johannesburg. Similar to the Harvester heavies, in Shanghai. To be fair though – she looked a bit more armoured then them. So at least all the metal wasn't just for show. The way she moved though... Yelena could tell there was a lot of weight to lug around. And not enough bodily coordination to account for it. She was a walking tank, pretty much.
"Yeah. Beauty and the Beast, huh? Guess which one I am. You done staring, princess?" - the female smirked, her tonality a very heavy South African drawl, giving Yelena's sculpted, shapely, statuesque form a very unsubtle once-over, her squinting brown gaze taking on a vaguely hooded aspect.
And a lesbian, as well. Lovely. Sorry lady, but you are not my type.
Yelena thought, in some exasperation. In general, she was quite firmly on the hetero spectrum. Not etched in stone, but it would take quite a different kind of woman, to tempt her. She kept her distaste from her face and voice, though, as she shook her head noncommitally.
"Sorry. That is a very... interesting... augmentation suite, though." - politely probing.
She was curious on the circumstances which lead this woman – clearly an accomplished bodybuilder in her former life – to elect to modify herself in this crude manner. Usually, those types tended to end up in the Panzergirls augment-MMA league. Unless of course – it wasn't by choice, given the group's obviously gang-affiliated vibe.
It could have been worse, though. She generally didn't get along, with most other women. Especially those in lines of work similar to her own. Jealousy and envy was almost always directed at her. Jealousy for the fact that Yelena still drew plenty of gazes, even after having close to half her body replaced with cybernetics. She was just that much of a looker. And envy - that her augmentation setup actually added, to her grace, instead of taking away from it. Whatever else her former masters put her through – they did make her almost a work of art, when it came to enhancement.
But even where neither was the case – things still didn't work out, between her and other women.
Anyone who ever claimed that men were competitive, in a military setting – has clearly never seen a pair of jaded, angry bitches going at it.
Her and Jenna Thorne, for example. Along with Gunther Hermann and Ben Saxon, another of the recent-ish, bastardised additions to the Tyrant roster, badly in need to bodies to fill the losses incurred during the past year. Yelena only met the wiry, redhead pale-faced vixen once, eight months ago, but that one time was enough for the two of them to almost kill each-other.
She had Hardesty's arrogance and bossy attitude, multiplied by two, combined with a deep-seated insecurity, toward Yelena's many years of experience, and her perceived value, to the Tyrants. So much so that she outright attacked Yelena, during a training session. The result was predictable, with Yelena's mental discipline and years of experience and training, prevailing over the upstart's angst and raw aggression, despite her formidable physicality and augmentation setup that in some ways, surpassed Yelena's own. Jaron Namir subsequently had her disciplined, and reassigned away from the core group, but Yelena had no doubt that if the two of them ever crossed paths again at any point – one of them would end up dead.
But I hope you're still alive, Jenna... we never did finish it, did we? Jaron was SUCH a bad sport, stopping me from taking your head off. Bitch.
She allowed herself a dark, yet petulant thought.
"Guess so. Not all of us get a chance to be kitted-up to top spec. Especially where I come from. You take what you can get. But I'm in it for payback." - the South African female snapped her out of it, a note of... buried loss... creeping into her voice.
"Payback for what?" - Yelena was curious.
"None of your business. You seem ok, princess, but I don't talk about it with strangers." - the response was curt, but there was no hostility in it.
Yelena nodded, with a 'fair enough' shrug of her shoulders, as the woman motioned to her unit, to spread out and secure the small enclosure near the sewer entrance, that was to be their impromptu staging area. There was no real military-style command structure, that she could see. Nobody referred to anyone else by rank, but it was clear who was in charge.
Gang mentality, definitely. Still... if it works. Irregulars can be highly effective, if motivated properly.
Yelena thought, from observed experience.
As for... that feeling, she was intimately familiar with it. Even though in her case, it went much deeper then payback. Deeper then punishment, deeper then justice – if such a thing even existed. Deeper then vengeance. It was the only thing she had to live for. The notion of making them suffer, for what they did to her and her family. She wasn't sure she'd ever get the chance to kill an actual member of the Illuminati, not just their subordinates... but now, with the Collective's help – maybe. Just maybe. It was a hollow purpose, but... hollow purposes were pretty much all she had left.
Irwine... she liked him. A lot. A part of her even felt deeper towards him, as she professed to him, back in the car – but she was afraid to pursue that. She had experienced too much loss already. And if she allowed herself to fall for him, and anything happened to him... she might lose him. He might lose her. It wasn't worth the risk. Not with the kind of lives they both lived, and how cheap, life was, in their lines of work.
He is a good man. Perceptive. Kind. Honest. I can tell he... wants us to be something more, but... what can I offer him? A future? What future? I don't have one. Love? I don't even know what that really is. A family? I have destroyed plenty of them. Making one... ?
The aquiline woman gritted her teeth, turning her head away to make sure none of the rebels could see tears sparkling in her eyes. Her gaze fell on some leftover blood on her armour, from her carnage up at the tower.
He deserves better. Better then me. Better then whatever I can offer him. Quinn is right. I'm damaged goods. Just using him. Leeching off of him. Trying to relive something I don't have anymore. He deserves a woman who can love him, the way he seems to love me. Who can give him what he wants. I am not that woman.
Irwine never spoke about his previous relationships, but Yelena wasn't blind to the subtext she often got from him. He wanted a connection. Badly. And she didn't want to be the next in line to break his heart. She wouldn't do it consciously, or deliberately – but just who she was, would be enough.
"Any chance we can get a look inside that plane? Get an idea of the layout, before the hangar's swarming with Tarvos pigs, come morning when we hit 'em?" - the rebel sargeant's tone snapped her out of it again.
Yelena was grateful for the interruption, as she gave her eyes a quick wipe, before turning to face the thickset woman.
"Yes. Keep your unit here and out of sight. I'll do some recon."
"You good?" - the rebel woman asked, frowning slightly. Despite her rough appearance, she seemed quite intuitive.
"Hmm?" - Yelena frowned back, then waved her hand slightly, "...it's personal. Like you said, not something to be discussed with strangers. You will have the plane's layout, in an hour."
Without another word, the tall figure vanished in a mirror-like effect, and was gone with a slight flickering of air, where she just stood.
"Fancy..." - one of the other rebels, setting up a perimeter scanner, whistled softly, with a trace of envy.
The sargeant scowled, taking a seat on an outcropping of a wall, and pulling out a bottle of machine-oil, to apply to her chaingun-arm.
"Yeah, maybe. Just don't ask how much it costs... let's hope she's as good as that shifty bastard Quinn says she is." - under her breath.
Central train station, Sankt Peterburg...
"Vse poyezda zaderzhivayutsya! Povtoreniye; vse poyezda zaderzhivayutsya. Pozhaluysta, pokin'te stantsiyu!" - the intercom blared.
A couple of police officers motioned for the few civilians to clear out from the platform, as a honk of a train could be heard in the distance, down the tracks coming from the East. There was some grumbling, and the cops didn't look any happier then the people, with the intercom order, if the expressions of disgust on their faces, was anything to go by.
The arrivals screen didn't show any inbound trains, either. But the black shape of a locomotive resolving itself in the night, bore mute evidence to the contrary. It had no markings on it, of any kind. No serial number, no line description, nothing. No indication on which transport company it belonged to.
It slowly came to a halt, pulling three cars behind. The first one was armoured and windowless, emblazoned with TYM logo. The second was a flatbed, with several unmarked containers piled atop one another and secured via cables. The third one was a passenger car, from which Tarvos Security troops came piling out, establishing a standard dispersal posture, throughout the platform, while a few civilian types dressed in TYM-emblazoned work tunics, exited behind them, and headed for the first car, clearly intending to unload it.
All of this, and more, Irwine could observe through his sniper's scope, from his attic vantage point, across the block. He counted a full squad of twelve Tarvos regulars, clad in medium combat armour and helmets, armed with a mixture of TMP's, Sanctions, and a couple of combat shotguns. Two Exoframe-equipped heavy units, and a quartet of aerial hunter-killer drones. He hastily pulled a bit further back from the window, since he didn't know how sensitive the sensors on those things were, and in case one of them decided to buzz the building he was in. The drones spread out in a holding pattern in all four compass directions around the platform, clearly on the lookout for trouble, hovering about 7-8 metres above ground, continually scanning the area.
Not bad... a full fire-team, plus recon support. These guys are ready for trouble.
The man thought, about to break Infolink-silence and inform Yelena... before another individual emerged from the last car.
And who do we have here... ?
The person was an Oriental-looking, average height, somewhat overweight woman in a business suit, glasses, and raven-black hair tied up in a semi-elaborate bun, typing something on a personal secretary with one hand, while the other held a suitcase at her side. She had the look of a mid-ranking corporate functionary. The expression on her face was one of... strained annoyance, by his judgement.
Hmm. Some shot-caller from Tai Yong? Probably not that high up the pecking order, given the fact she's out in the field like this, but here to keep an eye on the shipment and keep those working hands in line? Could be.
He kept watching, as the woman moved forward towards the first car, pocketing the secretary and gesturing something with her hand, at the nearest worker. He nodded, and moved to the second car, beginning to unlatch the cables holding down the containers there. Another two joined him, while the rest continued unloading the first one.
Irwine tried to make out, what exactly were they unloading from there. Mid-sized... canisters... of some kind, magnetically-sealed, from the looks of them. Five... ten... he counted twenty, altogether. They loaded them up on pullcarts, and began moving them out toward the platform's secure parking lot, beyond his field of view.
Those containers were next. Too heavy to be unloaded by hand, some of the workers commandeered a pair of Ring Nocker cargo hauler exoframes on stanby nearby, then began carrying them off in the same direction.
The Hole, just past Finland's border...
The entire underground compound was a hive of activity bordering on pandemonium, as every able-bodied individual was tasked in helping the evacuation efforts. While the mole was neutralised, currently awaiting interrogation at a more secure location, the damage was done. Janus's instructions were clear – scorched Earth policy. Anything that could not be taken off-site, was to be destroyed. The Collective's survival was dependent on secrecy, and against the all-reaching hand of the Illuminati, there was no such thing as half-measures. With the mole neutralised, there was no doubt that their enemy would move against them soon. Hours. At best.
Through it all, Quinn, Savage, Couture, and a small team of comms specialists were still monitoring the ongoing operation. While she hadn't informed them of it, Yelena Fedorova's decision to dispatch Irwine to the station, for the purposes of advance intel-gathering, was proving useful.
"If she is who I think she is... this may be larger then we thought." - Tiffany Savage commented, after their secondary asset informed them of the Oriental woman he saw, overseeing the shipment.
"Janus suspected that the biogenic material might have something to do with Audra Chow and her involvement with whatever Versalife has cooking in Hong Kong. We know they're using Tai Yong facilities in mainland China for their production capacity. Still, we don't really know if it's her. The description was too vague." - Quinn voiced an opinion.
"We need confirmation. If it is her, then they've clearly decided to move some of the research to the facility in South Africa. The question is why." - he concluded.
"Where better to ask, then at the source?" - Savage asked, leadingly. But Quinn looked dubious.
"Taking her prisoner would just add a level of complexity to an already complex operation. And given Fedorova's... instabilities, I am not sure she is the best person for the job. She has clearly demonstrated a tendency to think in black and white terms. If she found out how important Chow is, to our enemies schemes, she might simply decide to kill her, in her quest for vengeance. Orders or not."
The woman shook her head.
"I think you're not giving miss Fedorova enough credit. There's a great deal of rage there, but there's also a sense of overarching duty. Is she unstable? Yes. Having a degree in psychology, I would be surprised if she were anything else, given the level of trauma she accrued. Following this assignment, I'll make it a point to speak to her, about possibilities of counseling. But she understands what's at stake." - before adding:
"Besides, it's not like we have a choice. Jensen is still being integrated into our Prague cell, with the help of our sleeper agent there, and his new job with the Task Force. And you know full well of the danger of cross-cell information leaks. Especially given what happened to the Force's operation in Detroit."
Reluctantly, Quinn nodded.
"And Saxon is the one to take over, in Panama. It is a well-conceived chain of responsibilities. I just have my doubts about our newest – link – in it. But you're right. We have few options. And none with her level of ability, in this theatre of operations."
The airport...
Back from her recon of Hangar 23, Yelena was just relaying the details of the enemy's deployment, to the sargeant. A full squad of Tarvos troops, combined with another squad that Irwine had told her was on it's way with the shipment – the rebels would have their work cut out for them. It would all fall to her, and her surprise attack from within, once she met with the shipment handlers. Cause enough confusion, while denying them a chance to get any communications out.
This last was a problem. The Rebels had a portable jammer, but it's radius of effect was very limited. The shipment convoy would have to be within 150 metres of it, for it to be effective. Which meant there was a better then even chance that their drones would detect the Rebel ambush, before they actually got in range to be jammed.
The sargeant made no secret of her displeasure on that possibility. And Yelena could emphatise.
We need to get rid of those drones, before any attack can begin.
The aquiline woman thought, frowning hard. Then she came to an idea. Irwine was an unknown variable, as far as both her allies here, and her pretend 'allies' on their way with the shipment, were concerned. Which meant he could be compromised, without compromising either her own cover, or the impending ambush.
~"Irwine, are you there?"~ - she contacted her backup, still at the train station. Her tone was vaguely... tentative, as she still thought about how best to explain what she wanted him to do.
~"Yeah? They're just departing... three trucks. The drones are airborne, ranging ahead of them. ETA, roughly twenty-five minutes, from here to the airport."~ - the man came back promptly.
~"Good... that gives us some time to set up. I want you to get here, before they do. They are in trucks, so they will be slower. And I know of a few shortcuts, through the city. This late at night, there will not be traffic police to worry about, and I can have Couture scramble the traffic sensors at certain points."~ - she began, the first shadows of a plan forming in her mind.
~"Okay... I better get moving right now then! My car's parked a bit away from here. What's the idea, Yelena?"~ - he asked, without unnecessary questions.
A rare quality, she reflected in a flash, even for highly trained operators. Something Yelena could personally attest to, with her prior experience commanding Tyrant support units. On a timeframe where every moment mattered, questions were a liability.
Oh I do love you, Irw...!
She thought with a grin, before she responded...
~"The Rebel attack squad has a jammer that can disable their comms. But it's range is limited, so we will need to be quite close. I need those drones taken down, before they can detect the ambush. A sharpshooter in the right spot, is ideal for that job."~
~"But... that'll tip your hand, won't it?!"~ - the man's reply was immediate, laced with doubt.
Yelena's grin turned wicked at that, even knowing he couldn't see it.
~"No! Because as far as they are concerned, you do not exist! You are a random element. Maybe a backup for the ambushers, maybe a third party looking to take advantage. It doesn't matter. What matters is, you will give the ambush added credibility. I can make a show of doubling back to... deal.. with you, as the drones begin dropping. And take their attention away from the main vector of it!"~
And have them off-balance, before I strike...
~"The Front's attack... I get it... ! But that's gonna be cutting it close to the wire. I need to get there, unnoticed, set up, and I need a spotter to keep me on-target."~ - he replied.
She nodded.
~"The Front will supply one. And I will supply him with your Infolink frequency. He will be in touch by the time you get here. You... just get here! Couture will be in contact momentarily with traffic data."~ - she signed off.
Instantly, the woman opened a channel to Control.
~"Mantis here. My backup is in transit to the airport. I need a city-wide traffic-"~ - her subvocalisation was cut off, by the young hacker's... grudgingly approving... voice in her mind.
~"Yeah, yeah... I'm plugged in, remember? Gotta hand it to you, you may be a murdering bitch, but you don't miss a beat, do you? We'll have the selective DoS worm going, in a couple minutes. But I'mma need his private Infolink channel, to coordinate with him. Whichever it is that you're having your private chat on?"~
~"Sending the frequency. But do not spread it around. Deal?"~ - Yelena replied, pleasantly surprised by the shift in attitude, even injecting some camaraderie there.
It must have showed, as the young woman's subvocalised tone came back, hard.
~"Maybe. And don't! Don't think I've forgiven you. I NEVER will. You got that?! Never. But- b-but you're... um... useful to have around."~ - that last admission sounding like a tooth being pulled out, followed by an abrupt ending of the link.
Not surprised, Yelena Fedorova just nodded to herself. At the very least, the woman would tolerate her now. But given what she had done – that was really all she could ever hope for, from the young hacker.