After Action

A Beyond: Two Souls fanfic

Author's note: I do not own the characters in this story, just the situations involved. All characters are the property of David Cage and Quantic Dream. That being said, enjoy!

Bakerstown, Pennsylvania, March 17, 2011, 2:30, AM

"Let's take it from the top," a man wearing a very expensive looking suit said. Commander Timothy Clieford winced as an EMT applied stitches to a large cut on his forehead. The Commander glared at the man. "You want the whole story?" he asked. "Ok."

He gritted his teeth. It was taking every ounce of self control he had to not spring from his chair and beat this man into a pulp. It seemed like overkill, to him, to call an entire SWAT team just to apprehend one seemingly unarmed woman, but it was anything but.

"About four hours ago, we got a call from a few Pennsylvania State troopers," he explained icily. "They said a female fugitive had somehow escaped officers on a train, later stole a police motorcycle, and had ran a roadblock. They said she was heading here to Bakersfield." He would have been awestruck about the fact that she had eluded her pursuers so well, if not for what would happen later that night.

"The local police managed to corner the suspect in a movie theater," Clieford continued. "Then my team got the call. All we were told when we arrived on the scene was that they could not enter the building, but the suspect was detained and they just needed us to extract her." He glared at his questioner.

"What happened next?" The man in the suit asked. Cleiford glared at him. "Next?" Cleiford spat. "Four of my men tried to breach the front door. Four more circled around to the back entrance," he replied. "The front door didn't seem to be barricaded, but they couldn't budge it." The suit's expression was nonchalant. "We finally had to use a ram to break it down," Cleiford continued.

"And that's when things went to shit." The suit's expression didn't change. "Explain," he said evenly. "There were four designated marksmen trained on that door," Cleiford said. "I informed the suspect that the building was surrounded and that she needed to surrender," he continued.

"And did she?" the suit asked. Cleiford scowled. "Hell no," he growled. "One of our SWAT vehicles suddenly crashed into the gun store that was across the street from the theater." The suit didn't seem affected by this.

"The key wasn't even in the ignition," Cleiford continued. "It somehow turned on and started driving on it's own." He remembered hearing screams as the truck hit. There were at least 3 members of his team in the back of that van, awaiting orders.

Cleiford paused as the EMT continued to stitch his wound. He was still wrappping his head around what happened next. "The next thing I know, one of our snipers started sniping members of his OWN FUCKING TEAM!" Cleiford roared. "Another officer was forced to shoot him," he continued. "But then that same sniper ALSO turned his gun on us. He shot two more officers, then turned his own rifle on himself."

Cleiford was enraged as he recalled how this supposedly "simple" arrest went. "It ended up being a massacre," he growled, seemingly calm. His expression, however, clearly conveyed his absolute anger about the situation. These men were his friends. "It was a fucking massacre," Cleiford repeated. "One by one, our snipers started opening fire on their own team members. They then blew their own brains out." His glare seemed to intensify.

"Another one of our vehicles started driving on it's own," he added. "It crashed into two of the last members of my team who hadn't been shot yet. Williams was killed instantly and Bradford, he's in critical fucking condition, and the doctors aren't sure he'll make it."

The suit showed no emotion at this. It took every ounce of restraint Cleiford had not to physically attack him. "I was the last man left, and I finally got into the theater," he explained. The suit nodded. "And then what happened?" he asked.

"I barely set one foot through the door before I was sent flying out," Cleiford replied. His entire body was still wracked with pain. The most unbelievable happening was still to come. "The police chopper that was covering us...dropped out of the sky like a stone. I barely got out of the way," he explained.

No emotion from the suit. Nothing. Cleiford had just explained to him how no less than 20 officers had been killed or critically injured trying to arrest ONE GIRL, and this man didn't seem to care.

"As I was crawling away, she grabbed me," he continued. "She told me, Tell them to leave me the FUCK alone, because next time, I'll kill EVERYONE!" After what Cleiford had seen tonight, he had absolutely no reason to doubt her. "Then she called out to someone named Aiden. She said she was pretty sure we got the message."

Now this piece of information caught the suit's interest. He gave nothing away however. "The funny thing was, there wasn't anybody else around." He had reached the end of his story. "Now I want answers," Cleiford demanded.

"What the FUCK were we sent into tonight?" he demanded. The suit stood up. "That's classified, Commander," he said. Cleiford was out of his chair without thinking. He shoved the medic away and grabbed the suit by his collar.

"Classified my ass!" he growled. "My entire team was wiped out by a girl who was all by herself and I want to know WHY?" The suit said nothing, he just nodded his head behind Cleiford. Four more men in suits similar to the one he was wearing had guns drawn and they were all trained at Cleiford's head. The message was clear. Cleiford let the suit go.

One thing was abunduntly clear, as far as Cleiford was concerned. The next time there would be an encounter with this girl, and he could tell by the reaction of the suit that this would be practically guaranteed, he would have no part in it. He hoped to be nowhere near that shit storm. As far as he was concerned, he would give up his badge before he tried his hand at taking down this girl ever again.

"We'll be in touch, Commander," the suit said as he walked out of the building. On his way out, he made a phone call. "Put me through straight to Langley," he said. He then relayed what he had been told. Whoever was on the other line took the information in, and then told him to return to base for his debriefing.

It was clear that they were going to have to make a more concentrated effort to bring Jodie Holmes back to the CIA.