M4 rarely felt quite so out of place as she did walking down the edges of the other convoy they'd run into while traveling. Full of refugees, people displaced by all manner of worldly horrors, M4 found herself feeling even less at home than amongst the Dolls of Sector 9. Granted, none of the Dolls, save perhaps SRS, looked entirely comfortable, although based on what M4 knew, she thought some of that might well have been guilt.
Their instructions were to patrol the edges of the stopped convoys, just in case. M4 felt like that had to be overly paranoid and put some effort into trying to stay out of sight, although AR-15 beat her out in the department, all the way out almost in a treeline dozens of yards away from the road. SOPMOD on the other hand, stuck closer in, her bright and lively attitude collecting various children to her side, all eager to talk to the lady with the robotic arm. SOP seemed quite happy to show off her creation, and tell stories, which kept up a low grade chatter if nothing else.
From behind, M4 could see one of the children dart away into the mass of vehicles, no doubt hunting for some new creation. Turning her attention to another sweep of the area, she gave a brief check of the others, found nothing. That left worrying about AR-15 and what her conversation with Persica had, and hadn't, revealed. Before M4 could get far on that thought, SOP exclaimed in surprise, and all M4's attention turned to her other nearby sibling.
Finding the source of the shock required no effort at all, given that a child no more than ten stood in front of SOP holding a grenade. Speeding up, M4 caught SOPMOD's response, and a better view of the wide eyed children gathered around.
"Where did you get this?" SOP's tone shifted to serious and possibly even concerned. Picking the explosive from the boy's hand, SOPMOD turned it over, examining it carefully, and M4 got the mental prod to confirm that, yes, her sister was holding a live grenade, handed to her by a child.
M4 decided that she needed a drink. Maybe even several drinks.
"We found a bunch of them in boxes ages ago!" A girl pipped up. "Three or four boxes even!" The kinds of chaos a bunch of children might cause when given boxes of hand grenades danced about M4's head. That scared her. Still incredibly serious, SOP nodded, taking a second to think. "Why? Are they bad?"
"No." SOPMOD glanced at M4, a thousand mental questions coming all at once. "You have to be very careful with these, or you can get hurt." Eyes widened amongst the assembled kids, and then SOP brightened, obviously 'pretending' to come to an idea. "Hey, M4, that ways safe, right?" She pointed off to the east. M4 nodded, knowing where this was going already. "Can you guys go and get all of these that you have?" SOPMOD instructed the kids. "We're going to do something fun."
And so, M4 found herself escorting her sister and a gaggle of children from various ages, while carrying two boxes of hand grenades. STAR trailed behind them, silent and perhaps not judgmental, but certainly annoyed. To her surprise, given the ages of all involved, the children did exactly what SOPMOD told them too, either driven by curiosity, or just the shift from childlike glee to seriousness. Once SOP judged they'd found a good spot, she stopped turning to the group.
"What are you going to show us?" One of the girls asked, bouncing almost as much as SOP usually did. The others seemed just about as excited, although contained it better.
"Explosions, I believe." M4 spoke up, taking the sudden influx of attention much better than usual. "SOP, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Yes." The sharp nod surely was all the more surprising, although the more she thought about it, M4 realized it shouldn't have been. SOP took violence, of all kinds very seriously and explosions fit that bill. Even if that seriousness usually came from enjoyment. "Do you know what a grenade is?" A few of the kids indicated a maybe, most a no. SOPMOD nodded, picking up one of said grenades. "These are grenades."
What followed proved to be a very detailed lecture about hand grenades, safety, and what they'd do. More impressively, at least in M4's opinion, was that SOPMOD kept it surprisingly engaging, none of the kids drifting off.
As they did, M4 opened up a channel to the other Dolls. "If you hear explosions, they aren't a concern." The knowledge of where this would be going made her realize this needed to happen. "SOP is teaching the children about safety and grenades."
"Why is your sister teaching children about hand grenades?" Perhaps unsurprisingly, FAL spoke first, and with an unusual calm.
"Because they had a couple crates of grenades." M4 did her best to keep her 'voice' even.
"And SOPMOD is having children throw said grenades." KSG came off as calm, but even over the network M4 could feel the abrupt intensity of the stare being leveled upon her.
"She is."
A long, drawn out silence followed, as SOP launched into the next part, explaining that after you throw a grenade you needed to get under cover, or behind it. "Your sister, the one who rips off arms, and cackles maniacally when she blows things up, is teaching children about explosives."
"Yes?" M4 repeated.
"I swear I'm back in the goddamn Marines." KSG declared, before going silent. A moment later, her connection to the entire network went dark, as she forcefully severed the link. M4 didn't have time to ponder, as SOP reached the end of her speech, and entered the next phase of the explanation.
"This is what they can do." SOPMOD pulled the pin from the one in her hand, turning, and heaving it with all the enhanced strength she had. The muffled crack of the armed fused followed, and all of them watched the small object twirl through the air, before landing neatly in a hole in a tree trunk.
Another second ticked by, then with a louder retort, the explosive went off, blasting most of the tree a good distance in all directions.
The kids cheered, only to go quiet when SOPMOD didn't.
"That is why you have to be careful. They'll do that to you." M4's sister explained. That sobered them up. "If you do what I've told you everything will be fine." That brought out the smiles. "M4, help me find some rocks, so they can practice throwing.
In this one case, doing as SOPMOD requested struck her as the better part of valor, and so M4 found herself both finding rocks, and educating children on how to better throw things. As well as wowing them with the incredible strength of a Doll, as she could throw the small stones much farther than they could, and with surprising accuracy.
"Miss M4, Miss M4, can you hit that one?" A girl pointed at a tree in the far distance. M4 squinted, then, with a bit more effort, hurled a somewhat larger rock, hitting the tree trunk dead on. They cheered.
A few minutes more passed, before SOPMOD had them throw grenades, one at a time, under close supervision. With each explosion and spray of dirt, even the older children cackled with glee. Despite the seeming insanity of the situation, M4 found it oddly relaxing. Perhaps even normal.
Over SOP's shoulder, she caught sight of AR-15, leaning against a tree, rifle slung across her chest, doing her level best to pretend she wasn't watching them.
-Faded Glory-
"Do you have any settings except vaguely grumpy?" Five-seveN all but pounced on KSG the moment they were alone, when FAL finally slipped away to find Groza, and Blackwood drifted off to do whatever he intended to do, leaving KSG alone before she could find her own excuse.
"Does it matter?" She did not have the energy to deal with whatever the conniving woman planned for this conversation.
"Of course." The Belgian circled as KSG walked. "People will get the wrong idea about you if you don't."
KSG gave the idea of using Five-seveN's ponytail to weaponize the other Doll and make her useful, or at least less annoying. The thought proved far too tempting. "What part of the fact that I allowed an entire office of people to believe that I would break their kneecaps for offenses as small as breathing suggests I care about the opinions of others?"
"That's just asserting dominance." Five-seveN waved the implied question aside, continuing to circle. KSG couldn't decide if vulture or shark fit better as a descriptor.
"If I wanted to assert dominance, Five-seveN, you would know." Far more shouting, far less implied threats, far more action, and in all likelihood, extreme violence. "And if I wanted to assert dominance it would have a lot less to do with merely standing in a room ominously." Rolling her shoulders KSG stopped walking, fixing her conversation 'partner' with the least interested stare she could. The Belgian matched her, smirking, and not wanting to offer anything else useful. KSG didn't care to spend her whole day on this stupidity and spoke. "What is your point here?"
The complete lack of interest appeared to deflate most of Five-seveN's energy on the spot, the far shrewder look that followed making KSG's spine crawl. The detached part of her noted how weird that concept was. "Why do you think I have a point?"
"Because the only person who makes my skin crawl more than you is Blackwood." Crossing her arms, KSG debated on bluntness or civility, before deciding that if Five-seveN earned what she got. "You're a scheming, conniving little shit who is good enough at being what I just said to convince scheming conniving little shit FAL that you need to have an eye kept on you. You don't do things without a reason, even if that reason is getting your rocks off."
Pouting at her obvious attempt to counter being fouled, Five-seveN mirrored KSG's posture, abandoning the pretense in turn. "You really don't miss things, do you?"
"I miss plenty." KSG shook her head. "Probably more sensitive to your nonsense than average, from having to deal with Blackwood." All of this gave her a headache. "Now, what is your point?"
Another pout. "What else do you know?" KSG's lack of facial reaction probably suggested she wasn't going to answer. "Just for a friend."
"A friend." KSG repeatedly dubiously. "And I don't know anything the Commander hasn't said." KSG hummed. "I'm sure he knows more than he's told anyone, but being around him does not mean I'm more familiar with what he does, or does not know, and even if I was, I wouldn't be telling you I would be telling FAL, and presumably you would know."
Five-seveN opened her mouth to speak.
"No, you can't offer me anything, as I haven't reached the level of taking your stuff, and then telling you that you got scammed." KSG could feel herself starting to tick off the usual song and dance here in her mind, then jumped to the end. No reason to play this game when she could, reasonably skip it. "Any other questions?"
Five-seveN took a while to answer, sizing KSG up for longer. Long enough to become uncomfortable. "Just a Staff Sergeant."
"Just a Staff Sergeant." KSG dipped her head. "Rest of it's all just the results of applying logic to information provided to me. And it's not as if you're horribly unpredictable Five-seveN. I am told you scheme and connive, and get up to nonsense, and what I find you doing is scheming, conniving, and getting up to nonsense. Pretty simple to work out from there."
"Right." Five-seveN nodded, obviously not convinced. "If you do need anything, just let me know!" And, with that, she turned, bouncing away in a manner that could probably be described as fleeing.
Watching her go, KSG couldn't hold back her snort. If Five-seveN thought that she'd do something like assert dominance through fear, clearly the Belgian didn't know her half as well as she thought.
-Faded Glory-
74M rarely gave too much thought to the fact that drinking fostered camaraderie. She'd gotten the long and complicated explanations from 9A at one point, but most of it went over her head. Then again, she rarely went drinking, so that didn't help.
"Surprised you aren't insulting her taste in liquor." Of course, none of that accounted for sitting across from Ak-Alfa and M16. The other white-haired Doll apparently swapped a small wad of cash for a case of what she called 'acceptable swill', and M16 always carried around whiskey. Where either of them found the vodka, 74M didn't know, but she couldn't complain.
"As am I." 74M agreed, eyeing M16.
"I can get away with calling vodka potato water to her face." M16 gestured with her bottle. "I don't trust some other Russian to decide to try and use my kidneys for stabbing practice." While they did have a wide berth, the refugees in the area slowly became used to the dolls, and that berth was shrinking.
"And she knows that eventually I'll remember all her insults, and repay them." 74M patted her knife, enjoying the way M16 twitched. "And also prefers the camaraderie of this instead of a fight."
"Weird to think." Alfa drained the can, crushing it with a snort. "Where'd you fit into this anyway?"
"Knew her from an assignment." M16 gestured at 74M. "Didn't know she was part of some hush hush nonsense; just knew she was one bad bad lady." Halfway through, Honey Badger came ambling up, catching the beer thrown at her head, with a confused look, before dropping down and opening it, and promptly emptying it.
"And you were a halfway competent idiot." 74M tossed back. "The halfway capable idiot with an actual idiot for an understudy."
"Hey now." M16 waved her drink dramatically. "She wasn't an idiot. Just…overeager."
"She?" Honey Badger pipped up, grabbing another beer.
"Yeah, Doll on that op. 416." M16 answered the question with a nod. "Green as hell, followed me around like a lost puppy."
"At least a puppy could be called cute." 74M paused to examine her drink, realizing that they were abusing a woman unable to defend herself. "Watching her follow this one around probably qualified as pathetic."
"That bad?" Alfa crossed her legs, as Honey Badger leaned over, swiping a third beer.
"You ever have that one guy in the unit who runs around head about halfway up an officer's ass?" 74M tilted her head. "416 with her." Snorting into her drink Alfa nodded along. "Extremely pathetic."
"Also, a complete lightweight." M16 added on. "One of them beers you've got, and she'd been done."
"One." Honey Badger held hers up. "That's…uh."
"Depressing? Lame? Utterly embarrassing?" Alfa ticked off on her fingers.
"Not the passed-out kind of done." 74M continued to throw fuel on the proverbial fire. "The, makes a complete idiot out of herself, sort of one."
"Dancing on a table half naked."
"Trying to shove her tongue down your throat."
"I've heard of people who can't hold their liquor, but that's just sad." Honey Badger found her voice first, likely due to Alfa trying and failing to hold in a manic giggle. "Surely she couldn't have been that bad?"
"I seem to recall that, every time the gang went out for drinks, and after half a beer she spent most of her time trying to get in my pants." M16 nodded sagely. "Honestly, was utterly hilarious."
"You see," 74M drawled, "No matter how much you annoy someone Honey Badger, you'll never manage to be as annoying as a groupie who can't hold her liquor."
"Not sure what's worse, being a groupie, or a lightweight." Alfa shook her head. "How'd you manage to have an entire job and not realize she," A nod at 74M, "wasn't up to some nonsense?"
"She didn't run around with a unit patch screaming, 'Hey, I do government murder' back then." M16 started to count off on her fingers. "She kicked a lot less ass, and I was more concerned with the fact she called my whiskey dog water and less with the fact that she might be on some other side." No one jumped to the defense of whiskey which seemed to put M16 out a little. "And didn't matter at the time."
"I don't know what planet you live on that the idea that you're going into combat with someone who used to be special operations isn't a big deal. That's usually a sign that shit is getting out of hand, or that someone paid a lot more than you wants an outcome and is getting much less picky about how they get it." Alfa pressed her point, waving her own alcohol dramatically.
"Why'd that matter?" Badger looked between them. "I mean, you don't treat her any differently than KSG or Groza or FAL, who are all apparently super dangerous." The civilian Doll looked between them. "What makes her so much worse?"
"Worse? Nothing." Alfa shrugged. "I'd bet on KSG in a fight cause she's my sister, and I've seen what she did to a Russian in close quarters. But, I'm also entirely sure that any of that bunch wouldn't shoot someone in the back without being in a fight first, and she," A point at 74M, "if Blackwood came down and said 'I need this one guy dead', would probably just drop the guy on the spot. Or at least, she used to."
"Used to." 74M winced, taking another swig of her own drink to ignore how much that implication hurt. "I prefer to remain out of the business from now on."
"Just like I'd prefer not to be driving a tank around." Alfa shot back.
"Unlike tankers, I do not have a fetishistic attachment to my profession." 74M countered, to splutters of disbelief from the other two. "I ended up with Griffin to stay out of the government sponsored killing bussiness." The American obviously didn't buy it, but didn't argue the point either. "And it doesn't matter, does it?"
A shrug. "Depends who you ask, but as Russians go you bunch aren't too bad." That would be the best she'd get, and 74M knew it. "Fought like hell."
"You soldiers really are weird." Honey Badger declared, and M16 burst into laughter.
"You ain't seen weirdest soldiers yet,believe me."
-Faded Glory-
"If you don't mind me saying, you seem bothered." Ian only half paid attention to the comment from the group that ostensibly lead this little convoy.
"Information rarely travels badly without a reason, and if the information that your route could be lightly called highly dangerous didn't make it that far down, I don't like it." He swept a look over the ragged bunch. Heading that far north, up towards Tallinn, sounded like suicide to him. Yet, they were insistent, and Ian knew better than to try and talk the desperate out of a plan.
"Just bad luck is all." One of them opined. "I mean, not like them Commies are going to tell us jack."
A true statement, but it didn't satisfy the intelligence training, or even his natural suspicions. "Perhaps." Ian rubbed his temples. "We'll be on the same route for a bit, so if anything, do decide to be uppity about it, they'll get hell."
After a few more pleasantries and niceties, Ian broke away. After a few steps he realized that his fists were clenched tight, and his posture leaked far too much emotion. Reeling back in took a few steps, and provided a good focusing exercise to get attention back on the things that really mattered.
"Hiya, Commander!" FNC with FN-49 in tow found him only a few moments later. "Whatcha doing?"
"Thinking." The smaller Belgian didn't seem to buy that, scowling up at him. "Let me guess, that's a FAL answer?"
"Yup." She popped the last letter. "That's why she likes you."
Ian nodded, absently. "You aren't much of a soldier. Either of you."
That brought them up short. FN-49 found her voice first. "What do you mean, Commander?"
"Nothing really." He'd phrased it badly, or perhaps just obliquely. "I've been in deep for too long. Soldiers are people like me, FAL, Groza, KSG, SV-98. People who the war never really left, and never really left the war. While you have its scars, you are more than happy to leave the war behind."
They traded a confused look between them, both obviously unusure just what to make of a sudden bout of introspection.
"Sorry. I'm deep in my thoughts, and that often results in making depressing statements without warning." Ian's lips twitched. "I'm told it's not a better quality."
"N-Not really." FN-49 stammered, then looked away in embarrassment. "Sorry, Commander."
"Not telling me things I don't know, or that is wrong." He waved a hand, glancing between them. "I don't think you two came talking to me just to hear me ramble."
"Just bored." FNC shrugged. "FAL is off with Groza, Ballista might finally be figuring out she wants to kiss PP-2000, I think I saw Five-seveN with KSG, and they both scare me," counting off on her fingers, FNC paused, "Oh, Miss M4 is watching her sister teach kids about hand grenades."
"Sounds about-" Ian came up short. "Repeat that last bit?"
"Miss M4 is watching her sister teach children about hand grenades?" FNC repeated. "I decided it's better not to know."
"That…that feels like a good idea." Ian conceded. If the others, in their various forms weren't objecting, he wouldn't either. Some things were left alone for a reason, or at least, some things he could pretend not to know about. "And I didn't realize that you kept quite so close an eye on the gossip."
"The others keep track, so we find out if we want to or not." FNC shrugged, and Ian chose not to point out that they could choose to forget. "Why don't you keep track?" Ian arched an eyebrow, as FN-49 elbowed her companion in the side. "What? He's like FAL-"
"What makes you think I don't?"
"Well, you aren't…I dunno…FAL-ish?" Head cocked in thought, FNC gave a single vigorous nod, as if to affirm that statement. "You haven't tried to bribe me with chocolate."
"I don't need to bribe you with chocolate, because FAL will do that for me." A blink told him the small Doll never considered that angle. "That saves me money on bribes, and effort."
"Cheeky." FNC's sage nod dragged an honest laugh from him. "Hey!"
"Am I not allowed to be a cheapskate about my bribery?"
"I don't think you're supposed to do bribes at all Commander." FN-49 spoke up at last. "Or admit to being a cheapskate when you do."
"The dirty secret of almost everyone who does bribes. We're always cheapskates. You let someone know that you've got money and they'll jump on the chance to try and bleed you dry."
"Okay that's pretty FAL-like." FNC deflated. "Least he doesn't want to run around looking like a dope." FN-49 didn't even try to defend their leader.
"Unlike FAL, I know I have no fashion sense, and long since resolved to stick to things that do not make me look stupid." A pause. "Actually, I have to wonder. Is FAL really that clueless?" Surely, she knew how bad her fashion sense was.
"Absolutely." Both Dolls nodded. "You ever seen a high-class fashion show?"
"Once. I think I used it for a sleep aid." Ian wracked his memory, finding only hazy bits and pieces. "Either a sleep aid, or I was trying to prove a point."
FNC didn't seem surprised by either of those ideas. "Yeah. So, that's what FAL thinks fashion is."
"I think FAL knows it's not, but she also doesn't know any different." FN-49 tried to be kinder, but it still felt like an insult.
"I see." A slow nod. "So, whenever I get dragged to an officers ball or some stupidity, don't ask FAL for advice on what to wear."
"You totally should, it'd be hilarious." FNC shook her head. "I mean, don't actually do what she says, but she'd have a really bad idea."
"Not all of us are sweets gremlins, FNC."
"That's called being boring, Commander."
He laughed again, feeling a deep-seated sense of irony sink in. "I like being boring, FNC. It means I'm doing my job."
"Then get a better job?" He didn't have a good retort to that.
-Faded Glory—
For most people, a detailed report about rising political instability along the border of a foreign nation would not be quite so exhilarating of news. For the woman occupying this particular office, however, it provided tangible proof that years of planning and setup were finally starting to pay off. Of course, it also meant they entered the most delicate stage, which even the slightest wrong touch could send the entire enterprise spiraling out of control.
"You aren't usually this deep in thought about decisions." Her companion broke the comfortable silence. The Doll in question seemed relaxed, but they both knew her to be anything but.
"I am not unusually given such a dilemma." The woman leaned back, closing the folder for the time being. "You know as well as I do that if this goes wrong it will jeopardize years of work, both mine and others."
"And if it goes well, it will jeopardize those years of work." The Doll retorted, albeit without any heat behind the words. "By your own admission this is earlier than it should be happening. I cannot protect you if this procedes as planned."
"We must play the hand we are dealt." Her companion did raise a valid point, in that the rest of the board did not favor the plan moving at such speed. "But with the local situation in the state it is, we cannot ignore the chacnwe we are given." She opened the file, flipping to the next page. A short summary of expected outcomes, one that noted a need to redo the assessment after Griffin soldiers were properly assessed. A single wildcard, which did require watching. "For now, however, I can avoid interference. The situation will develop in such a way as to require action." Setting the folder on her desk, the woman stretched. "I admit, I didn't expect this degree of thoroughness."
"They are not all morons." A pause, in expectation of a retort. "And you will have to work with them eventually, if this plan really does work."
Another true enough statement, although that did raise a question that she never asked before. "Have you read the reports from the mid '50s?"
"I skimmed them. There is not much information of value, outside of the change in posture, and indications someone has some deeply questionable loyalties, if we take their naming scheme at face value." The Doll shifted on her feet, unused to the scrutiny.
"In this case, the relevant information is in the reports detailing which operations were not undertaken." Not waiting for a cue the woman forged ahead, absently brushing a bit of hair back into place. "At the same time that Nuemann approached us, my superior were determining how to return operations to a neutral footing. With the geopolitical world in turmoil and our erstwhile allies recovering or unlikely to be of aid quickly, we hoped to rely on a common enemy as a source of cooperation should the worst come to pass.
"I'm familiar with the operational details." A small glare.
"The historical details are surprisingly relevant to our present situation." Sighing, the woman picked up a different, far less interesting file. "For now, we will observe and see how Griffin reacts to the request."
"And if they come in swinging?" The Doll picked up the folder, ripping it clean in half without pausing, then in half again, before dropping it into a bag marked 'burn'. "That does not seem the sort of problem that can be resolved on the ground."
"My orders are to oversee this personally."
"Personally." Her companion snorted. "A few hundred miles away from personally ma'am."
"Fortunately for us, there is a travel budget." She stood, pulling on her coat. "Dispose of those files, and that will be all for today."
A small nod, then a salute, before her companion slipped out of the room. The woman glanced around, considering for a while longer. "Now, for the benefit of my listeners."
Somewhere, she liked to imagine that some technicians were feeling a deep seated sense of panic at the admission that she knew they were listening. It had been long enough they probably c. "Do tell your superiors that I would like to speak with them. It will simplify things."
She didn't make it back to her apartment before the message appeared. The game, she knew, was afoot.
AN: 1 chapter. Next one is likely coming sooner, I'm taking some vacation soon and will have writing time.
The usual thanks to Branded, and to everyone on discord who didn't talk me out of that first sequence.