No no no. Everything was wrong. Everything was going so very wrong. 9 chaffed at the decisions that 45 had made in the past few days that had lead up to this. Whatever the intelligence they were being tasked to gather was, it wasn't worth losing her sister. No amount of pay was worth this fear she was feeling.
9 slipped through the Sangvis Ferri line. As the automated patrols had begun to close the net around the bunker, her mad break for the edge of the red-zone met no contact. It was little consolation; even if 9 was a safe distance out, there was no guarantee that broadcasting a signal- even and encrypted signal, would not attract Sangvis units.
And if she did get in contact with 416 and 11, what then? It would take those two at least an hour or two to get here if they took the UAZ... and if SF responded on force- what were they going to do? Shoot their way through the perimeter?
9 slowed herself. Panic only created more problems. Think things through- that is what 45 would do.
But how was it that 45 did it… was it a part of her tactical module?
Objective: _standby_
[set objective] Rescue 45
[set objective] denied - team administrator permissions
9 pulled at her hair the moment the process kicked her consciousness out. Of course she didn't have the permissions to change the mission objective- she wasn't the team leader. She didn't want to be the team leader.
She just wanted 45 back. If she couldn't rely on the strategic assessment programs… then so be it, she'd just have to figure it out herself.
Options… what were her options?
Returning to the bunker and getting 416 and 11 was obvious- but she couldn't predict past that. Maybe if they brought some of 45's spare parts with them, they could restore 45 to at least the majority of her functionality- that would make combat and retreat easier. If they took the UAZ, they could evacuate 45 even faster, but the truck would make noise… still, she bookmarked the ideas.
What else… what else… 9 felt her processors heating up, causing her to begin hyperventilating to keep a constant airflow going. What looked like another oncoming panic attack was, in fact, 9 trying her very best- after all, she was the instinct behind the brains of the team.
They were in the red-zone... S08 was uncontested Sangvis territory, but S09 had at least the presence of active Griffin forces. If she put out a distress signal masked as a generic G&K unit, maybe the forces there might come to their rescue too. If she used one of the encrypted emergency signals, it might even guarantee rescue. She held onto that thought, filing it under a possible backup.
She could attempt to contact their primary contractor from 45's console back in the safe-house… after all, their employer had investment in 45's rescue. Perhaps their contractor had other personal teams in the field that they could call on to help… or they might just come to acquire whatever objective 45 held and leave 404 there to fend for themselves… She cautiously filed it under her last resort.
Not as many options as she had thought, her worry of having too-many variables was replaced by the fear of not having a solid enough plan to work from.
"Safe-house first." 9 whispered to herself as she picked up her pace, working her way back to her full combat speed, "Four-sixteen might know what to do."
9 could cut the travel time in half if she really pushed herself. Without having to consider 45's speed, or the fact that her older sister would be incredibly upset if 9 burnt herself out, 9 would drive her frame at full capacity until the very end.
So she ran.
It was all that she was capable of doing at that point; in the most literal sense. She had shut down everything else, both to save what processing she had, but also keep herself from thinking any further. Just functioning on pure autonomy made the entire run seem as if 9 had simply teleported back to the safe-house. In actuality, it took her only two and a half hours.
Her body moved jerkily even though her full mental faculty had returned- she wasn't sure if it was because of the stress on her body, or because he movements were still programmed for efficiency over human mimicry, but she didn't run into any problems punching in the code to the door.
9 never bothered to announce herself, practically flying into the main assembly room, startling 416 out of her bed.
"A routine patrol, huh!? It's been hours!" 416 threw down the magazine she was reading, but when she took stock of 9, the elite doll paused. "Where's the fox?"
It was a logical question.
It was entirely sensible- small talk even.
It punched 9 in the gut harder than she had ever felt pulse out of her emotion module.
"Get the repair kit. If we've got a spare leg unit for Forty-five, grab that too." She fired back at 416's sneer with an authority born from desperation; a tone that cut into her normally bubbly voice modulation.
"Nine, what-"
"NOW!" 9 snapped as she rushed past a stunned 416 and an abruptly woken G11, moving for the command room. It was practically 45's living space, everything her sister brought with her whenever they moved safe-houses was in here. Frantically 9 started rummaging through everything.
From the doorway, 416 and 11 watched her out of a confused fascination, still unsure of what exactly was going on. 9 stood straight, taking a second to slow herself down- her digi-mind had been running at nearly full-usage for the past three hours, after all.
"Forty-five is in trouble. Get an emergency repair kit, your regular combat load-out, and meet me at the truck." 9 enunciated everything slowly and clearly, "Eleven, please wake up fully, we're going to need to move fast."
Her two teammates looked at one another, completely taken aback. This was when 45 would usually use the command module-
But to 9's surprise, neither said a word as they disappeared from the doorway. The sounds of rummaging through supplies in their ready room easing the anxious feeling. She had her own objective to find too-
45's code-book, the one that had the different frequencies and network masks used by the various factions out in the red zone. 9 let out a sigh of relief when she found it; she would never make fun of 45 for keeping analogue media ever again. Quickly she tore a page out the back, scribbling the broadcast frequencies for G&K while she committed a section of her primary partition just for same exact information. For safety's sake, she grabbed a portable transmitter and signal booster from 45's pile of electronics as well.
"Nine."
416's frigid tone had frozen 9, and the UMP twin craned her head to find 416 staring her down once again. The frown on her face told 9 everything that she needed to know, and how was she going to best explain everything to keep 416-
"We're ready to go, but you need to rest." Despite the harshness of 416's tone, the elite doll went through the duffle bag that hung from her shoulder. She pulled free a small ration bar and soda-sized canister and motioning for 9 to catch them.
An energy mixture and android ration bar- both designed to be converted as efficiently as possible. They were the next best thing to a recharging station, practically invaluable for their long-range missions. Highest quality android products at their finest...
And, as 45 always stressed, expensive. Emergencies only.
"Every second counts, but if you burn out then we have to deal with two useless UMP's." 416 shrugged, putting on the airs that she didn't care one way or the other.
"Thank you." A pang from 9's emotion module punched those words out. Despite the stress- the fear radiating from it, there was a warmth underlying within the circuitry. 9 jammed part of the nearly-tasteless bar in her mouth as she moved about packing what she needed into her own bag.
"What's the plan, then?"
"We moob por teh aweeah-"
"Food out of your mouth, first." 416 rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth quietly as she waited for 9 to finish scarfing down the bar.
Without 45 to run the team's closed neural-network, it was easy for 9 to forget that something as simple as verbal communication could be rendered unreliable just by jamming something in her mouth. She poured the conversion liquid down her throat, washing away the rest grey crumble that obstructed the voice modulator there.
"We move for the area in the UAZ, then dismount close to the bunker. If we move quickly on foot, we might be able to take them by surprise before they react to all the noise." 9 moved for the armory next with 416 in tow. Even as she began to load up spare magazines, she could feel 416's stare on her back. The elite doll wanted more- more detail out of the plan, more assurances.
"When we're about half-way to the AO, I'm going to broadcast a general team distress signal from the emitter and leave it behind. That will pull some of the SF patrols while we drive in. Once we get closer, I'll send out the encrypted distress from myself using one of Griffin's masks. It might be a long-shot, but if there's a nearby patrol they will come to help."
"Or your broadcast will attract more SF."
9 reflexively froze- she hadn't even considered that SF might have already cracked the local G&K frequencies. Not only that, but any outbound signal with the Griffin encryption would attract SF patrols like moths to a flame. 416 continued to stare 9 down, those lime-green irises of hers practically glowing. It was oppressive- terrifying even.
416 was weighing 9's worth; trying to see if 9 could make the same calls.
And the truth was that she couldn't, she never would be able to make the same calls as 45. It was why they all needed 45- and without her sister the team would fall apart.
And that thought was what drove her. For the sake of their little family, 9 was willing to do whatever it took. Her purpose brought clarity- she would not back down because of doubt, not even against 416.
"Only if a ringleader is present to crack the encrypted emergency broadcast." 9 countered, locking stares with 416, "If I broadcast from the emitter first it will get Griffin and SF's attention, but my personal broadcast will be of more interest to any Griffin dolls. To SF it will just be another Griffin signature rather than the real distress signal." 9 took a deep breath, despite not needing the oxygen like a human did, "And if that fails...at least it will draw some attention away from 45." There was obvious flaws in her logic, and 9 was fully expecting for 416 to pick apart the plan further, but to her surprise, 416 simply tilted her head while slinging her rifle over her other shoulder.
"I hope you know the risks, then." 416 backed down first, motioning that the team should get a move on. G11 was hot on the elite doll's heels as pair moved for the garage- carrying every spare part they had for 45 in her arms.
"Me too." 9 paused, taking a moment to nervously twist the ring on her finger. She couldn't dare tell 416 that she came up with the idea based solely on what her emotion module was whispering to her. It was a reckless gamble without regard to the countless variables- the exact opposite of her sister.
But contacting Griffin… it felt right-
And, after all, her "instinct" almost never lead her astray before.
However, 9 could only silently hope that in her current, increasingly fragmenting state, that it wouldn't start failing her now.
"U-um, FAL… I've got something." A brown haired doll spoke up, breaking the peaceful silence of the team's "borrowed" cabin. The four other members of team FN were in various states of rest after a long day, and it felt wrong to disturb them, but FN-49 had been tasked with speaking up if anything abnormal occurred. She looked over her map PDA, her normally worried brow even more wrinkled with concern. The other doll on night watch, a snow-haired handgun specialist, broke her gaze from the dusty cabin window and made to hover over 49's shoulder. Having the team's sub-commander so close only made the nervous doll even more jittery.
"A distress signal?" FN Five-seveN was looking at the small tablet's dimly lit screen. 49 instead handed her sub-captain the tablet as the other team members slowly began to rouse from their interrupted sleep mode.
"Two." 49 pointed at the screen, "And they are relatively close."
"Two though? This deep in Sangvis territory… did they come up at the same time?" Team FN's leader, FAL, lazily rolled over to look at them, spilling her hazelnut hair over her sleeping ruck. While she seemed disinterested, 49 still had her attention.
"No… the first one was stationary, the other is moving away rapidly."
"And are they ours?"
49 watched as Five-SeveN had checked the signal again, ensuring that the coded broadcast was unarguably Griffin.
"Both devices that sent it check out as Griffin-" Five-seveN ran through the checklist one more time before passing the data over to a now standing and attentive FAL, "One is broadcasting a basic encrypted distress… the other is marked urgent using G and K's heavier encryption."
It was enough of a mystery to get FAL leaning in over the tablet as well.
"It can't be one of our base's teams- everyone else is on Operation Stargazer." Five-seveN mumbled, "and what's the deal with the two signals?"
"I will double check it through the commander, he should still be awake." FAL frowned rubbing her chin as she ran through the possible permutations of the situation. It was clear that FAL was suspicious of a trap, as was Five-seveN, but the other members of the team, now fully awake, seemed far more certain of what the team should do.
"If we know that a Griffin T-doll sent it, we should go rescue them!" FNC frowned at the fact they were even deliberating. Now fully awake, she was already packing up her kit as she spoke her mind, "It is what the commander would want us to do!"
"We're on a specific mission, FNC." Five-seveN retorted back at the smaller blonde doll before casting a glance towards FAL. The ambitious sub-commander was certainly waiting to see what the team-leader would do with the conundrum: compromise their current mission or sacrifice those in need of assistance.
"Who says we can't do both?" The other blonde doll of the team, FN 2000, spoke up from her corner of their shared space. She was one of the many dolls that had joined their commander after being rescued under similar circumstances, so of course she would side with FNC on the matter. 49 was one of those rescued dolls as well, but the rifle-operator knew better than to voice pointless opinion.
After all, this wasn't a democratic vote. All eyes turned to FAL, who was casually and gracefully pacing back and forth on the far side of the cabin's living room as if she were on a fashion runway.
The concern on FAL's face had melted away into a warm smile as she nodded to someone who clearly was not present. She gave the hand motion for the team to finish packing up camp.
"You were right, FNC." The hazel-nut haired team leader gently patted the chocolate lover's head as she passed by to roll up her own sleeping bag, "The commander did not hesitate."
"You were in closed communication with him the whole time, weren't you?" FN-2000 puffed a cheek, pouting the fact that the team was supposed to be in a complete blackout.
"Privilege of command, my dear." FAL grinned back to her fellow assault rifle, however her words sent that particular jab more towards Five-SeveN. "And before you protest the risks, Five-seven; we only need to scout and secure a landing zone. The commander is scrambling a combat team to handle the rescue. Once they touch down, we will be free to continue our current mission."
Five-seveN choked on her retort.
"They can spare teams? Then that means they completed their mission against Hunter?"
"Which leaves us to ours." FAL slung her namesake rifle over her shoulder, "but first we help those in need. After all, they could very well be our family one day. Now ladies, prepare for a double-time march."