Disclaimer: Fox owns the Glee Ship and all that sails on her, and RBI came up with the original idea. Not mine.
Pairings/Characters: Brittany/Santana, Quinn, Rachel, assorted OC's
Word Count: 5,102 ( 1 of 9 )
And so begins Book II
The curtain descended, blocking out the cast after the last curtain call. Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been a good show, everyone in the cast had been superb. But it wasn't the same. Her dream, for as long as she could remember, had been to be the one on that stage. And, even though she now had a place on a larger stage, the feeling that it should have been her hadn't quite disappeared.
"Hey, Rach," Brittany said, "want to go backstage and meet the cast?"
Opening her eyes, Rachel looked past the most dangerous person in her life, at an usher nervously standing at the end of the row.
"How much time do we have?" she asked. The reception at the UN had been the day before. Today was supposed to be their chance to be tourists. She'd been to New York years ago, and Brittany and her agents had familiarized themselves with all of the places she might want to visit as Ambassador.
"We've arranged for dinner with the British Ambassador in two hours," Brittany said. "So, an hour, tops?"
"That should be enough time," Rachel said. There'd been requests from several governments for meetings over the next few weeks. Some casual, some not. They weren't trying to play favorites but a few had been given a higher priority than others. Tomorrow would be the Chinese Ambassador, and then the following day a meeting with the Russian Ambassador.
"Who's going to be there?"
"The Ambassador, her family, a couple celebrities, the US Ambassador," Brittany said.
"Okay," Rachel said, standing up. "Lead on."
Smiling, Brittany stepped out into the aisle ahead of Rachel. The Secret Service agents they'd been unable to refuse, even after pointing out their own security, surrounded them. The large group followed the usher down into the theater, stopping at a small reception room. The Secret Service agents remained in the hall.
The actors hadn't arrived yet, Rachel noticed as they entered the room. She assumed they were getting out of their costumes and would be along shortly.
Several of Quinn's troopers were waiting for them, along with Brittany's agents who were providing security, standing next to a surprise guest. Which explained the unexpected presence of the troopers.
"Who's idea was that?" Rachel asked softly, nodding at Quinn talking to one of the agents. She knew that it would have been impossible for Brittany to not know Quinn would be there.
"She's joining us for dinner," Brittany said. "I think she missed you."
"We saw her two days ago," Rachel said. "That's not enough time to miss anyone."
"The Ambassador might also have expressed an interest in the 'Valkyrie in charge of our army'," Brittany said. "One of the people she rescued from the hotel last month was the Ambassador's younger sister and nephew."
"Oh," Rachel murmured, trying not to feel disappointed. "She looks good in that uniform."
"The word you're looking for is 'scrumptious'," Brittany said, smirking. "Makes you want to push her up against a wall and tear it off."
"Brittany!" Rachel sputtered. "That's Quinn!"
"Yes, yes it is," Brittany said, winking at her. "Too bad she keeps turning me down. Her and Santana together would be awesome."
"I... I...," Rachel couldn't think of a comeback to that declaration. Taking a deep breath, and hoping no one could see her blush, Rachel shook her head and strode over to Quinn. "Hi," she said, smiling up at Quinn.
"How was the show," Quinn asked.
"It was great," Rachel said, unable to suppress her smile. "Were you able to see any of it?"
"No," Quinn said. "They're coming down to Cancun in a few months to put it on. I'll see it then."
"They are?" Rachel said, surprised. "Who approved that without asking me?" She wasn't exactly angry, but cultural exchanges were part of her responsibility.
"There was nothing to really approve," Quinn said. "The theater company had a contract with one of the hotels we purchased in Cancun for a week's worth of performances. We agreed to honor their contracts."
"Oh." Rachel thought for a moment. "We'll need to find them a better theater. None of the hotels have anything fit for them to perform in."
"It was really an attempt to take advantage of a tax loop-hole," Brittany said, joining them. "The owners expected to lose money."
"How'd you find that out?" Rachel asked, looking around to make sure no one heard them, even though the chances of anyone being able to understand Clan-speak were slim.
"The usual," Brittany said. Quinn just laughed.
"Sorry," Rachel said. Sometimes, she forgot how much Brittany knew about everything that their lives contacted. "Do we need a translator?" she asked, as the actors came into the room.
"Nah," Brittany said. "Just a little bit of an accent and no Ohio-isms. And I know it's hard but pretend Quinn isn't here."
"Okay…" Rachel said, taking a deep breath and putting her most welcoming smile on.
"That wasn't too bad," Quinn said, making herself comfortable in the car that would take them to their hotel before whisking them off to the British Embassy.
"You didn't have to make small talk with a bunch of high actors," Brittany said in a low voice, nodding at Rachel, who was staring out at traffic.
"High?" Quinn asked, clearly puzzled.
"Actors are adrenaline junkies," Brittany said. "Like us, but for different reasons. They were bouncing off the walls. She misses that feeling you get in a crowd."
"She never performed on Broadway," Quinn said, frowning.
"She was constantly performing in Lima," Brittany said. "Whenever she was in public, that was performance art."
"Really?" Quinn stared at Rachel. "So she's calmer now because she doesn't have to perform?"
"She can be her real self, now," Brittany said. "Artie says it took her a while to adjust."
"She's still kind of dramatic," Quinn said.
"That won't change," Brittany said. "But now she doesn't have to be 'on' all the time. It's less stressful. And better for you."
"Me?" Quinn asked, smiling back at Rachel.
"You can be you, and she can be her," Brittany said. "More fun that way. Like me and San."
"Brittany…" Quinn said warningly. "You know we aren't like that."
"But you could be," Brittany said. "You'll see."
"What were you and Quinn talking about in the car?" Rachel asked Brittany, as she refreshed her makeup after changing into more formal clothes for dinner.
"This and that," Brittany said, leaning against the bedroom door. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"It seemed a bit serious," Rachel said.
"Just Quinn being Quinn," Brittany said.
"She didn't look too happy," Rachel said.
"She thinks too hard sometimes," Brittany said.
"We need to do something about that," Rachel said. "She needs to have real fun."
"Definitely," Brittany said. "We'll get her sister to help."
"Do we have to?" Rachel asked, pouting.
"Why not?" Brittany asked. "You're okay with your Mom being friends with Frannie, aren't you?"
"I think they're more than friends," Rachel muttered.
"You're okay with me and San, and your dads," Brittany said.
"But that's my mother and Quinn's sister. If they got married, that would make Quinn my aunt," Rachel said, visibly shivering at the thought.
"The sexy aunt," Brittany said, giggling.
"Let's not talk about that now. Or ever," Rachel said.
"Okay," Brittany said. "Ready?"
"Ready," Rachel said.
"That was fun," Rachel said, as they walked back to their rooms. Quinn and her troopers had already headed back to the ship, and two of Brittany's agents had gone ahead to check their rooms. "Quinn seemed a bit embarrassed by the attention."
"She saved the life of a member of the Royal family," Brittany said. "The Queen will probably want to meet her."
"The Queen?" Rachel said, squeaking. "Can we meet her also?"
"It's possible," Brittany said. "We'll have to discuss it. If the Queen requests a visit from all of us."
"Well, I vote yes," Rachel said, following Brittany into the elevator. When the door closed behind them, Brittany frowned, stepping between Rachel and the door. "What's wrong?"
"Rachel?" Brittany said, lowering her voice. "Hailey and Stacy aren't responding to my call."
Rachel nervously looked around the small compartment. "What happened to them?"
"Thuma says they're on our floor," Brittany said after a long pause. "Their id's are showing up on her scanner, but she can't access their telemetry. Something is blocking the signal."
"I didn't think that was possible," Rachel said.
"Not normally," Brittany said. "Do you smell that?"
"Smell what?" Rachel asked.
"Some kind of gas," Brittany said. "Starting to feel numb?"
Rachel nodded, trying to hold her breath. Her arms and hands were tingling.
"Subtle," Brittany said, coughing. "We should probably sit down. Rescue isn't going to be here in time."
Rachel leaned against the wall, and slid down to the floor. "Quinn will find us," she said confidently.
"Already notified Artie," Brittany said. "Going to take a little while for the rescue. Thuma is keeping an eye on us. Just need to be patient."
"Why's she not here now," Rachel gasped.
"Need to catch them," Brittany said. "Close your eyes. Take a nap."
"'kay," Rachel mumbled, closing her eyes.
"Brittany?" Santana's voice intruded on her thoughts. "What's going on?"
"Hey San," Brittany subvocalized, pretending to be asleep. "Looks like they're making their move now. The same gas they used on Q's mother."
"You're okay?" Santana asked.
"Fine. The antidote works. But Rachel's out."
"Don't let anything happen to her," Santana said. "Quinn will kill us."
"She's gonna be angry that we used Rach for bait," Brittany said.
"We can live with that," Santana said.
"San? The elevator's stopping. Thuma says there are six of them out there."
"Notifying Quinn now," Santana said. "Wish me luck."
"You're my San, you don't need luck," Brittany said. "Hey San?"
"They're wearing black suits, like from that movie," Brittany said. "Need to pretend to be unconscious," she said. "Goin' silent." Not waiting for Santana to respond, Brittany went into a trance, slowing down her heart rate and neural systems. They didn't know what the men in black had for equipment but she suspected they could tell if she was faking being unconscious, which was one reason they hadn't told Rachel, or Quinn, about the ambush.
Brittany didn't react as she was lifted onto something, she assumed it was some kind of kart they could sneak her and Rachel out of the hotel in. She turned up the gain on her exterior mike so Thuma could record and forward everything she heard to Artie for analysis. And rescue.
"Yes, sir, we have both of them," a voice said. "No, it was easy. The gas knocked them out before they knew what was happening. Their security was incompetent."
"Secret Service? No, no problem at all. Stuck in traffic like we planned. Yes, transporting now. We should be to the airport in an hour. Yes, sir."
"They don't look like powerful aliens," another voice said. "I think it's a scam."
"You'd think aliens would have better security," the first voice said in agreement. "We grabbed them and no one tried to stop us."
"It's almost like the Secret Service wanted us to have them," one of them said.
"A bunch of women," the original voice said. "They've bit off more than they can chew."
"What about that shield covering Cancun?"
"I bet it's fake too," one of them said. "Probably some hacker tricked the radar computers and spy satellites."
"We'll know as soon as Interrogation works on them," a voice said. "No one can resist those guys."
"Almost feel sorry for them," the original voice said. "They even made that Double O agent talk, and those guys are trained to resist torture."
"I hear there wasn't enough left of him to bury after," one of them said.
Thuma, listening to them talk winced, as they trailed them in their hard suits. Hearing a low growl over their com link, she looked over at Stacy, who might be mobile but was still recovering from the neuro-gas.
"We won't let that happen," she said to the others. "We'll have reinforcements before anything can happen. And the boss won't allow anything to happen to Lady Rachel."
"Don't like these men," Hailey said. "Hope the boss has a plan. With a lot of pain."
"The Boss is bringing in The Q and her team," Thuma said. "It's going to be messy."
"Good," said Stacy. "They don't do subtle. They'll get the message across that you don't mess with us."
"What do you mean, Rachel's been kidnapped?" Quinn said, meeting Santana in the docking bay, still in her hardsuit. "She was with Brittany, and Brittany's best security team. How did someone get past them?"
"They used the same knockout gas on them that they used when they kidnapped your mother," Santana said.
"When did they kidnap my mother?" Quinn asked in surprise.
"Last week," Santana said. "But Brittany was able to rescue her before they could do anything to her."
"My father?" Quinn asked. "Did they get him?"
"Nope," Santana said. "They didn't seem to want him."
"Not surprised," Quinn said. "Where's my mother now?"
"We've got her stashed in the US Embassy in London," Santana said. "Your father is still in Israel. Rumor has it they're separated."
"Good for her," Quinn said. "What about Rachel and Brittany. I'm assuming this is some Brittany plan, since you aren't chasing after her."
"Yes…" Santana said nervously. "It's a trap. As soon as they get to the MiB's secret base, we swoop in and rescue them."
"MiB's?" Quinn asked, heading towards her command office, Santana in tow. "This isn't some government or terrorist hit squad?"
"Brittany calls them that - Men In Black. They seem to be living the cliche. They dress in black. Drive black cars, and have black helicopters. And they're evil, from what Brit has dug up so far. No ties to any governments that she can find."
"How long has she known about them?" Quinn asked.
"Just rumors until they snatched your mother," Santana said. "Her Q is still analyzing the evidence from that."
"I assume there's some plan to keep Rachel safe until we can rescue them?" Quinn said.
"Oh yeah," Santana said, visibly relieved that she'd escaped a Quinn attack. "Brittany took the antidote to the gas and is broadcasting. Her security team is sticking close to them."
"Good," Quinn said. "Don't think we won't have words when this is over," she said. "No matter how good Brittany is, Rachel shouldn't be put at risk like this."
"You don't think I know that?" Santana said. "Brittany thinks this is the fastest way to take them down, and set an example. So she's expecting you and Gold Team to make a flashy entrance when you drop in to rescue them."
Quinn nodded. She didn't like Rachel being bait. Brittany should know better, and probably did, but she liked doing her own thing. They would have to have a chat also. After Rachel was safe.
"Does anyone else know about this?" Quinn asked.
"Brittany's people and us," Santana said.
"What happened to the Secret Service? I thought they were backup?"
"Brittany waved them off. The MiB's think they got stuck in traffic. She thinks they've got a leak. One of her people to digging into that now," Santana said.
"Okay," Quinn said. "I want everything Britt knows about them. I'm assuming she's recording everything."
"Yes," Santana said, pausing. "You should have that now."
"Got it," Quinn said, pulling it up on her display. "They aren't playing games, are they," she said listening to the initial recordings from when they'd kidnapped Rachel and Brittany. She nodded to herself when Brittany shut down and her comm coordinator took over.
"Nope, these guys play hard," Santana said.
"We play harder," Quinn said. "They have no idea what they've bitten into. Pinn? I want Gold Team ready to go in 10 and Blue team on standby."
"Yes, Boss," Pinn said, leaving the room.
"Where are they now?" Quinn asked.
"A small airport in Jersey," Santana said. "Here," she said, pulling it up on Quinn's ready-board. Two dots, one red, and one gold were visible inside a small hanger. Three other dots, one outside the airport and the remaining two just outside the hanger. "They've already tagged the plane."
"Do we know where it's going?" Quinn asked.
"It has three different flight plans filed," Santana said. "Some small town in Canada, Iceland, and Cuba."
"Let's hope it isn't Cuba," Quinn said. "That's a can of worms we don't need to deal with."
"I'm betting Iceland," Santana said.
"Artie?" Quinn said, wondering why the AI had been silent. "What do you think?" "Cuba seems the least likely," Artie said. "The available information indicates this organization has multiple bases outside of population centers but situated in stable political entities."
"So, Canada or Iceland. Do we have relationships with either of those governments or are we going to cause an international incident."
"International incident," Santana said. "If it's Canada we might be able to get the Queen to smooth things over for us; she likes you. I think she wants one of her nephews to marry you."
"Not happening," Quinn said. "Let's hope it's Iceland."
"Looks like the plane is leaving," Santana said, pointing at the screen.
"We're ready to go," Pinn said, from the door.
"You coming along?" Quinn asked Santana.
"Coming along? I'm flying," Santana said. "But I'll leave the drop to you. You don't need a spectator. Just make sure Rachel and Britt are safe."
"Oh, I will," Quinn said. "Okay. Artie, keep us updated on their status."
"Yes, Lady Quinn," Artie said.
"We've got a location," Santana said over the combat channel in the drop-ship. "We'll be over it in five minutes."
Clamped into the drop-bucket, Quinn pulled up the tactical map on her visor. "Got it," she announced, updating her plan with the target layout. It wasn't a very large compound. Artie's scanners detected only thirty life signs above and below ground. "We drop as soon as they land," she said
"Cutting it close there Q," Santana said.
"You do your job, I'll do mine," Quinn said, feeling no need to explain her plan, though she flashed a copy to Artie and Santana. "Standard hostage rescue, ladies," Quinn told her team, sending them their individual assignments attached to the target map. "Activate the Containment field as soon as that plane lands. I don't want any noise escaping."
"Ready," Pinn said. "Container released."
"Pip, you and Squeak protect the Memory," Quinn said. Her best bodyguards, they'd already gotten their assignments but she preferred to vocally reinforce them. "Get to her as fast as possible. The Shadow should be with her. Get them both into their hard suits and get them out. Pickup is one click south."
"Yes, Boss," Pip said, speaking for both of them.
"As soon as the Memory is out, we'll round them up. No mercy," Quinn said. "This is a lesson."
A flood of acknowledgements hit her team comm. Quinn grinned fiercely.
"Over target," Santana's jump master announced. Green lights came on across the bucket.
"Okay ladies, we'll meet up on the ground," Quinn said, tapping her release. "Good hunting."
With a soft thud, Quinn's hard suit hit ground inside the small compound. She could see her team taking their positions on her tack display overlaid on top of the signal from the containment unit and the tac info from the drop ship.
"Memory secure," Pip reported. "She's unconscious. The Shadow is getting into her suit now."
"Hey Quinn," Brittany's voice cut in over the command channel. "I need a couple of them alive."
"You can have anyone who doesn't fight back," Quinn said. "The rest are paste. That's non-negotiable."
"Got it," Brittany said, her tiredness clear. "We're headed to pick-up. Rachel needs the anti-dote. They gave her an extra dose of the gas."
"You've got Pip and Squeak," Quinn said, repressing her desire to check on Rachel personally. "Santana is with the drop-ship," she added, though she wouldn't be surprised if Santana flew pick-up herself.
"Acknowledged," Brittany said.
Quickly checking her team's stats, Quinn headed towards her own target, ignoring the sound of gunfire even as her suit identified the different types of armament being used. The target scan had revealed what looked like a heavily fortified command bunker near the center of the compound. She'd reserved that for herself.
"Hey Boss," Whist said, joining her at the bunker, flames from a burning building reflecting off her hard suit.
"All done?" Quinn asked. Whist had been given transport detail. Any vehicle and repair capability was to be destroyed. There was to be no way to escape.
"Completely trashed," she said. "One guard. I don't think they were expecting us."
"They think they're invisible," Quinn said. "They've hacked all of the local spy satellite feeds."
"Except ours," Whist said.
"Exactly," Quinn said. "Ready?"
"Ready," Whist said.
Setting her energy guns for maximum output, Quinn opened fire on the bunker entrance, a small building that looked like a metal shed. Whist quickly followed, joined by Pinn who'd just finished destroying her own target.
The sides of the shed seemed to balloon out under the silent onslaught before the whole thing collapsed, exposing a cement stairway. Advancing forward, Quinn stopped at the top of the stairs, scanning them for any traps.
"Nasty," said Pinn. "One step and the whole thing turns into a slide ending in those spikes at the bottom."
"Explosive spikes," Quinn said. "Somebody's been watching too many Bond films."
"So, how do you want to handle this?" Whist asked.
"Lady Shadow covers these in her 'Evil Overlord, Genius or Cliche' seminar," Pinn said. "Right Boss?"
"Someone really needs to talk to her about her seminar titles," Quinn said. "But, yes, she covers the classics. A couple wall buster grenades should clear this out."
"On it," Whist said, aiming at the door at the bottom. "Might want to step back a few meters," she added.
Backing up, Quinn and Pinn waited for the tell-tale sound of the grenades doing their thing.
"All clear," Whist announced. Moving closer, Quinn looked down the stairwell. The grenades had vaporized a large part of the stairs, and eaten into the doorway.
"Air lock?" Pinn asked, pointing at the inner door.
"That's ominous," Quinn muttered. "Warn the others that there might be biologic weapons in play."
"Yes, sir," Pinn said. "Done."
Quinn jumped down into the hole and examined the now visible inner door. Learning forward, she pushed against it. There was a large screeching sound and the heavy metal door fell inward, halting before hitting the floor by several bodies wearing black body armor.
"Looks like they were waiting for us," Quinn said, when Pinn and Whist joined her. She kicked the door in further, out of their way, and cautiously entered the bunker. A long hall stretched out at a downward angle
"Boss, I'm picking up several life signs that way," Pinn said, pointing down the hall. "But no weapons."
"Definitely weren't expecting visitors," Whist said, carefully inching down the hall. As she approached the first door, it popped open and a small object rolled out.
"Watch out," Pinn said, shooting at it with her energy gun, attempting to knock it away from Whist. A loud explosion shook the hall as her next shot hit it. "I don't think they like us," she said, when the smoke cleared.
"Us?" Whist said, turning around. Stepping towards the door, she kicked it open and tossed in a grenade, ducking to the side just in time to avoid the resulting explosion.
"Concussion grenade?" Pinn said.
"You wanted them alive?" Whist asked, pushing the door open all the way.
"Not if they're shooting at us," Quinn said, relieved. "Let's be a little more careful here."
"We're always careful," Pinn said. "There weren't any life signs coming from that room," she said.
"Doesn't mean there isn't something dangerous in it," Quinn said. "Adjust your sensors."
"Yes, Boss," they both said.
"It's empty," Pinn said, going into the room. "Interesting little gadget," she said, kicking a small object out into the hall. "Some kind of motion detector grenade launcher."
"What opened the door," Whist asked, from her position further down the hall.
"Door's electronic," Pinn said. "How many more doors are there?"
"Five like this," Whist said, "and a big one at the end of the hall."
"Assume they're all booby-trapped like this one," Quinn told them. "That explosion wouldn't scratch your suit but it'll give them a chance to escape. So we need to deal with them."
"Leap frog?" Pinn suggested.
"Leap frog," Whist agreed. "Ready?"
"Go," Pinn said.
On the word 'Go', Whist ran to the next door, Pinn close behind. Several feet before the door she jumped forward to the other side. When she hit the floor, the door popped open and a grenade popped out.
Quinn winced with every explosion as Pinn and Whist worked their way down the hall. It wasn't the sound, their hard suits protected them from most of the loud noise, but the potential for surprise. With each foot gained towards the end, the MiB's could throw something unexpected at them. No matter how good their suits were, there was always the chance that something unknown could affect them.
They reached the end of the hall with a lot of noise and smoke, but no injuries, and no signs of life other than what their sensors were picking up at the end of the hall.
"No window?" Quinn said.
"Video," Whist said. "Here, here, and over there," she said, marking the wall and ceiling. "The whole door is audio pickup."
"Are your instruments picking up anything on the other side?" Quinn asked Whist, whose hard suit was outfitted with a few extras. "All I'm getting are three weak life signs."
"Lots of electronic chatter from their computers," Whist said, placing hand mines along the edges of the doors. "I suspect they know we're here."
"The Shadow will be happy. She'll get things for her analysts to play with," Quinn said. "Britt?" she said, over the command channel. "How are you and Rachel doing?"
"Rach is conscious and on her way to the drop-ship," Brittany said. "She's doing fine."
"Good. We're about to crack open their command center. The rest of the compound is under our control."
"Try not to destroy everything," Brittany said. "Can you wait for me?"
"I'd rather not," Quinn said. "They know we're here. The bunker was booby trapped so they heard us coming."
"Too bad," Brittany said. "My team should be there in ten. Please leave something for them to look at."
"No promises," Quinn said. "Ready?" she asked Pinn.
"Ready, Boss," Pinn said. "Blowing the door and gassing them."
They moved back out of the blast zone. "Now!" Quinn said. A small thud shook the hallway in an almost anti-climactic manner. The door shook, and fell inward, followed with several flashes as all three of them launched gas grenades into the room.
Quinn looked around the crowded room. It was wall to wall with electronic equipment. There had been three men in the room, knocked out by the blast and gas combination. Two in lab coats and one in what they were coming to recognize as a uniform-like suit. To prevent any suicide attempts, they'd all been placed in stasis and taken away by one of Brittany's crews. Another group was carefully dismantling the equipment. So far, they'd found two different self-destruct mechanisms.
"Is this enough?" Quinn asked Brittany on their private channel. "Worth the risk to Rachel and yourself?"
"We won't know for a few days," Brittany said. "But something is missing."
"What?"
"Where's their interrogation room? Their cells for prisoners?" Brittany asked. "This is a listening post, not a full working base."
"So we didn't wipe out one of their bases?" Quinn said.
"We hit something important," Brittany said. "And they'll wonder what happened to it when we leave."
"I don't want anything left behind," Quinn said. "Once you've taken everything you think is important, we'll wrap it up in a bubble and put the whole thing in storage. I'm sure Santana can find us a place to stick it, right?"
"I know just the place," Santana said over their private channel. "But you need to be more careful," she said. "Your hard suits aren't going to stop everything. Someone is going to find a weapon that'll poke holes in them. You were taking unnecessary risks."
"I know the capabilities of the suits better than you do," Quinn said dismissively. "We're not even close to pushing them to their limits."
"If you get killed, I'm not the one who's gonna to cry for your dead ass," Santana said. "Britt, keep an eye on her down there. Rachel wants her back in one piece so she can yell at her."
"I don't need a babysitter," Quinn said. "And Britt has enough to do already." Shaking her head, she headed out of the bunker to check on her troopers. It had been a relatively simple operation. Almost like a training exercise, if they ignored the booby traps all over the place and the stasis bags full of alive and dead MiBs.
"What's the final count?" She asked Pinn.
"The only ones we captured alive were those three in the bunker," she said. "They went kamikaze when they realised they were trapped."
"How soon until we can bubble it?" Quinn asked.
"We're almost done with the command center," Brittany said.
"The Techs have the bubble primed," said Pinn. "As soon as Lady Shadow gives the signal they'll pop it."
"Good. Have everyone pull back outside of the perimeter. Now isn't the time to practice bubble survival."
"They're all out except for the Shadows," Pinn said.
"Britt?" Quinn said. "Done?"
"Five more minutes," Brittany said. "Just ran into another self-destruct."
"Surprised they didn't attempt to use them," Quinn said.
"Remotely activated," Brittany said. "That's my educated guess anyway."
"Interesting," Quinn said.
"Very," Brittany agreed. "Okay, we're done. All wrapped up and headed to extraction."
There was a slight blurring motion and Brittany appeared next to Quinn. "All out," she said. Seconds later, a silver dome appeared, encapsulating the compound. With a rapid vibration, the silver dome rose into the air, becoming a large silver sphere that continued to rise until it was out of sight.