"I was there when Owen came back to us, and I was there when he…when he resigned."

~MP-40 during interrogation about former Commander Nathan Owen's alleged defection to Sangvis Ferris.

WttM Part 2: Renegades

Chapter Prologue: Ghost in The Machine

Outpost 17

0215 hrs


MP-40

MP-40 stepped out from guard building at the entry checkpoint to Outpost Seventeen as an unidentified vehicle slowed to a stop. In one hand she held a megaphone, the other rested on her weapon.

The vehicle stayed where it was, engine idling, but the driver did not move. A searchlight was powered on and pointed at the vehicle.

She glanced at the human guards that were to either side of her, their weapons aimed at the vehicle, faces grim, before raising the megaphone.

"Achtung! This is a private military installation, turn around at once, or you will be fired upon!"

Nothing happened for a few seconds, and MP-40 heard the safeties click off on the other guards' rifles. Then, the door opened and a figure stepped out of the vehicle, hands raised. Slowly, he stepped into the glow of the perimeter lights.

"Get back in your vehicle, turn around an- Gott in Himmel, Owen?"

He flashed her a weary smile, "MP-40, you have no idea how good it is to see you again."


MP-40 led Owen to his room, he opened the door and she could see the surprise register on his face.

"I was in here every day to make sure everything was tidy and ready for your return." MP-40 explained, "Kommandant Helian and the other higher ups thought you were dead but…" her voice broke for a second, and she took a moment to compose herself. She could feel tears forming in her eyes as she fought to keep her voice under control. "I knew it wasn't true, I told them that we needed to keep searching for you, and Commandant Gentiane agreed with me, she sent Frau Kalina to check up on us from time to time and she…"

Owen raised a hand to cut her off, a tired but genuine smile on his face. "Thank you."

She beamed up at him, tears still in her eyes as she grabbed him into a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're back." She whispered.

After a brief moment, he returned the hug, and patted her head, "I'm glad to finally be back."

They stayed that way for a few seconds more, until she pushed him away, her face scrunched up. "No offense, Kommandant, but you stink."

He laughed and scratched the beard that had grown during his absence, "Yeah well, it's been a helluva trip to get back here."

"Explain later," MP-40 said as she pinched her nose, "shower now."

With that she spun him in the direction of the shower, "I'll have fresh clothes and a pot of coffee ready for you when you've finished."

Owen nodded and made his way into the bathroom.

When she heard the water start running, MP-40 picked out his favorite set of worn jeans, a pair of boxers, and a t-shirt. After putting them on the counter of the bathroom, she then went to brew a pot of coffee.

As she waited for the coffee pot to get warmed up, her neural cloud started to wander. Where had Owen been, and why did he look so healthy? When they had left with Nines he looked like a walking corpse, now he looked healthier than the day she met him.

Now, other than in desperate need of a shower, a shave, and the apparent lack of sleep, he showed no real signs of being held in captivity.

When the coffee was ready, she made him a cup and sat down in a chair. After another ten minutes she finally heard the shower turn off.

"Damn," he said as he exited the bathroom shirtless, "I needed that."

MP-40 stared in horror as she saw that his body was covered in fresh surgical scars. They criss crossed his body in angry red streaks.

"Owen…" she asked, horrified, "What happened to you?"

He looked down at his torso, and with a sheepish grin, pulled the shirt over his head.

"Ah, right," he said, "that's a long story."

MP-40 said nothing as Owen grabbed the cup of coffee, and sat down across from his adjutant. He stared at it for a long time before he took a sip.

"Perfect." He said, and the two settled into silence.

" Owen, I-"

"You want to know what happened." Owen cut her off.

"Ja, of course I do, we all do."

Owen said nothing for a long time.

"I…Alchemist found me."

"Nein…" she muttered.

"Ja." He said with a sad smile, "Found me bleeding out again, patched me up." He said before taking another sip of coffee.

"Why?" MP-40 asked.

"Said she needed my help with something, wouldn't tell me what, and I didn't care, tried to escape so many times…" he trailed off, exhausted "but she always caught me in the end."

"She tortured you." MP-40 stated, dread forming in her stomach as she pictured her Befehlshaber, her Commander, strapped to a table while the Sangvis Ringleader carved into him.

"Nah," Owen replied with a shake of his head, "She was actually nice to me, in her own weird way, but she ah, insisted, that I let her help me."

MP-40 shook her head in confusion, 'What does that mean?"

"It means that she finished what Persica started." Owen said flatly, "whether I wanted her to or not."

"And what does that mean?"

Owen said nothing for a very long time as he stared at a spot on the wall.

"Owen?"

"Not sure." He turned his attention back to her, his face was completely unreadable, "But I think it means I'm not really human anymore."

Neither of them spoke as Owen finished his coffee. After he drained the last bit, he sat the cup down.

"My whole body feels off," he looked at MP-40, as if she held some answers, "like, I know it's me, it's just…not."

MP-40 frowned, "We should get you to see Frau Ribey, first thing in the morning, she can make sure you're okay."

"Do you think she'll still feel the same way about me as she did before?" He asked.

MP-40 frowned, "Ribey?"

Owen snorted and shook his head, "Colette, she's gotta be pissed that I've been gone for so long."

MP-40 opened her mouth, and closed it.

"What's up?"

"Oh Owen, I…" she felt her throat close up.

Owen frowned in confusion at first, then seemed to understand what she meant.

"She left, didn't she, probably back to the town I found her in." He stood. "I gotta talk to her and try to fix th-"

MP-40 couldn't hold back anymore and looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, "I'm so sorry Owen, they tried, they really did, but…"

Owen went rigid, "She's dead?"

"They took her to the Sector Nine repair bay and…"

"Nines killed her." Owen's voice was flat.

She nodded slowly and watched as he sank back into his chair.

"What happened?"

"Colette wasn't compatible, she was a completely different kind of doll." MP-40 shook her head, "It's why she never backed up her neural cloud."

"It's my fault." He muttered, "She shouldn't have been there."

"Owen…" MP-40 began.

He turned to face her, and for a brief moment, he looked broken, lost. She had just shattered something inside of him. MP-40 felt the tears fall down her face.

"I'm…I'm sorry." She choked out.

Owen gave her a half smile, "You didn't do anything wrong, thank you for telling me."

She nodded, it's all she could do.

"Hey MP?"

"Ja?"

"I'm pretty tired, do you mind picking this conversation up later?"

MP-40 sniffled and nodded again, "Of course."

"Thanks, have a good night."

With that, she left.


The next day, Owen was gone and on his bed, MP-40 found a letter that thanked her for her hard work, and told her that he was resigning his post.

It was later found that a pistol had been taken from the armory, his bank account had been emptied, and there was a report of a car theft from a nearby town.


Owen

Owen operated on auto-pilot as he drove through the night. His head swam as he replayed the last day with Colette over and over again. It was his fault that she was there that day. Hell, it was his fault that she came to work at Griffin. He should have left her in that town, she seemed happy there.

As the sun rose, Owen found himself on the outskirts of Tkacheva. He let his thoughts run wild as the Lada navigated the old war torn streets. He stopped the vehicle next to the wreckage of a UH-60, the red cross painted on the side faded and partially burnt away.

He blinked in surprise as he turned to look at the abandoned automotive shop that had been the place he and DuLaney met Grigori, Mariya, and the rest of the Ukrainians. It was also where he first met Nines.

"Should've never let her see the light of day." He muttered angrily and accelerated away, scaring some local wildlife as he did.

Owen rounded a corner and slammed on the brakes. On one side of the road, a coffee shop, the other, a helicopter.

Her helicopter, the Huey that had replaced her Hind.

His breathing became ragged and he felt like his guts had turned into concrete. Hands trembling, he killed the engine, and opened the door.

Owen's legs felt like lead as he approached the old warbird. The closer he got, the more his chest tightened.

The time he saw Colette, she was wearing her flight suit, the upper half tied off around her waist, with a black tank top. She had beamed up at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

Just like she was to him.

He ran his hand along the side of the Huey and let out a sigh before he turned and started towards the coffee shop. Inside, he stood at the spot where Nines had shot him, and had killed Colette.

There was a large puddle of dried coolant in the ground.

"You hesitated." Nines' voice came from behind him.

He spun around and saw Nines leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a wicked grin on her face.

"You hesitated, and because of that," her grin spread wider, "I killed your fuck buddy."

Owen pulled his pistol, but Nines disappeared in a cloud of smoke, and then reappeared right in front of him, still with that wicked grin.

"The fuck?" He muttered.

"Because that's all she ever was, right?"

He aimed dead center of her forehead, and fired. The bullet buried itself in the wall, and Nines disappeared again.

He turned to leave, but there she was, face to face with him, smile wider than it ever was, and blood red coolant leaked down between her eyes.

"All you wanted to do was pump her and dump her whenever you were stressed, or she flashed you a little skin."

Owen used the butt of his pistol to strike her in the neck, it passed through her and sent him sprawling to the floor. He scrambled to his feet and brought the weapon up, scanning the room, his breathing ragged.

Phantom Nines was nowhere to be seen, he turned back into the dining area, where she was sitting on one of the tables.

"Credit where it's due though," she continued, looking at her nails. "You were gonna try and make things serious, but oh well." She shrugged and then looked at him again, "Bet it sucks I used your rifle to kill her, doesn't it."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He roared and dumped the rest of his magazine.

He could hear Nines' laughter mix with the ringing of his ears as he staggered out of the coffee shop and into the morning light.

He stumbled to Colette's bird and fell into the troop area where he passed out.

"Hey sleepy head," a voice said, "wake up."

Owen's eyes snapped open to see Colette standing over him.

"Colette?" He asked in disbelief.

"Duh," she beamed at him, "who else would it be?"

Owen shot up and grabbed her into a hug.

"Alright there big guy," she wheezed, "I may be a doll, but I still need to breathe."

He relaxed his grip and felt her return the hug.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered.

"Well," she said, stepping back, "obviously not."

"I'm not going anywhere, it's gonna sound cheesy as hell," she gave an embarrassed laugh as she put her hand on his chest, "but I'm always going to be right here, no matter what."

He laughed, "Sounds good to me."

She beamed up at him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him for a long time.

"I love you," she whispered as she pulled away, "but you gotta wake up now okay," tears were forming in her eyes as she nodded towards the cockpit, "be sure to check the instrument panel when you wake up, there's something there I want you to have."

"Wait." Owen pleaded.

"Nate, you gotta go," she said softly, tears streaming down her face, "go bury that bitch who shot me."

Owen woke up as the sun started to set. The first thing he did was check the instrument panel, and saw a picture stuck in the corner. He grabbed it and saw it was an old picture of the two of them during the war.

She had jumped onto his back during one of their cookouts at the FOB. One arm holding up a beer, the other wrapped around his chest. They were both laughing. He stared at the picture for a long time, until finally he folded it into his pocket, and walked back to his car.


Owen drove the stolen Lada until it ran out of gas between Kyiv and Boryspil, along the Boryspil's'ke highway. He left three hundred dollars in the seat as an apology, before he made his way into Kyiv on foot.

After he had made his way into the city, the first thing he did was find a place to crash. He settled on a crowded multi story hotel and checked in with an alibi. He slipped the bored looking guy at the desk an extra hundred to waive the credit card requirement.

Twenty minutes later, Owen was standing at the window of his top floor hotel room, waiting for his pizza and watching the traffic below. In his head, he was planning his next move.

Nines had a decent head start to disappear, and if she went back to the Russians, that would make things difficult, but not impossible.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. He grabbed his wallet, and opened the door to reveal not his pizza, but Scarecrow glaring at him.

"Fuck." Was all he had time to say, before the ringleader hit him in the head with a stun baton.

Owen was out before he hit the floor.