Written to the score of . . . 'Combat', Johnny Jewel
Rick tears his eyes away from the dazzling sight of the firefights looming around the Skyscraper Command towers.
A sinking feeling begins to pull at his gut.
"Repeat that, LIZZY," he growls, his blazing blues darting over to Michonne, who's still glaring through the holoscreen at the war zone ahead of them.
LIZZY complies gravely:
"Affirmative. JORDI has intercepted a signal from the mainframe bunker in Tower Nine. It is a countdown. Self-destruct in thirty minutes, fifty seconds, and counting, Rick . . ."
Her disembodied English accent informs them in no uncertain terms. Rick flies as fast as he can toward the action. They're closing in on Tower Eight. Why so damn long, is Rick's immediate thought. Is it stalling? For what?
He has no time to ponder further.
"Abraham's flyer has been grounded. Attempting to establish a comms link with our scouts, stand by . . . "
"LIZZY, raise Heath and Eugene before you go," Michonne reaches over to grip Rick's straining forearm.
He's tense like she rarely ever sees him, just that quickly. He's starting to feel fear, she can tell. Not a good sign.
"Let's just . . . come up with a plan. A countdown only means we have to think faster, right?"
"When you're right, you're right," Rick agrees, trying to swallow his apprehension for her.
"Patching you through to BDP. Stand by, please. Scanning to locate Mike and Daryl . . ."
LIZZY announces as Rick spots Tyreese's flyer and heads straight for it.
Eugene's flummoxed face appears on the bottom left of Rick's holoscreen. "You rang, boss?"
"Gimme a bullet, Eugene," Rick demands, engaging his shields and nodding for Michonne to get ready to take on fire as they break into the melee.
Eugene nods dutifully. Heath can be spotted moving around between computers in the background. "It's a biggun, apologies, boss. Captain Snow should have the debugger in sixty seconds. The rest of it ain't goin' so hot out there . . ." he reluctantly adds, accessing what information is available to him from his team of hacking Companions.
Rick's flyer shudders as he avoids being hit by long-range fire from a group of cyborg sentinels below. Michonne pushes her cloud console back into its cubby hole and quickly activates her shooter scope on the holoscreen. The scope comes down and Rick's twin shooters on the front sides of the flyer dislodge from their compartments, engaged and ready to fire.
"We've lost visuals and life support in all Command towers. Abe's ground operation is stuck in a firefight at Tower Nine. ODIN has control of a military-grade self-operated tank, sir. It's . . . well, it's not goin' down so easy."
"Shit!" Rick barks as Michonne concentrates on defending their flyer.
Eugene keeps on with his bullet, and the news gets grimmer as he goes. So much for this being a piece of cake.
"Last we heard from the scout team, Daryl's tryin' to get a visual on the hostages, but he can't see shit with those cyborgs crawlin' all over the place. Then we lost him. We ain't heard from Mike since he lit outta here . . . "
Michonne's heart leaps into her throat at the mention of Mike's silence, but she quickly refocuses on the job at hand. He's a good fighter and he's quick on his feet, she reasons with herself. He'll be alright. God, I hope . . .
"What about the self-destruct?" She interrupts Eugene, bagging an enemy flyer coming in hot between them and the sky bridge where Tyreese is landing to meet up. The flyer takes damage and drops below them like a sunken stone, bouncing off the skybridge, sparks flying before it disappears.
"Me and JORDI were workin' on trying to find a way for Abe and the others, maybe to stop the countdown, buy us some time. ODIN somehow caught onto that – that's when the tank showed up."
Eugene continues, shaking his head with his wide brow furrowed in frustration.
"He's got all possible holes plugged tighter than Ambassador Monroe's asshole, sir. Sentinels are everywhere, and that goddamned tank is slicker than pig shit after a storm. Plus, we keep havin' to reboot our Companions, the longer they hang out in net space . . . like I said, it ain't goin' so hot . . . "
"Duly fuckin' noted. What the fuck is takin' so long to find him and shut him down? Heath?"
While Rick grumbles, Michonne gets a glimpse of the firepower of the tank miles below through her shooter scope. Eugene is right. It's a terrifyingly efficient behemoth.
Heath approaches Eugene's back, his face crowding into the screen. "Sorry boss!" He pushes his glasses up on his nose and huffs out a breath, gesturing to his computer bay and active holoscreens in the background. "Look, ODIN's movements are hella crazy; unpredictable. I got at least eight Companions on this, but that still ain't enough to keep up with him. I think we're closing in – you just gotta buy me like ten minutes, man."
"You have five!" Rick is forced to dip out of harm's way suddenly, dodging heavy fire from sentinels somewhere in Tower Eight. He growls, driving the nose of the flyer downward so he can glide them onto the skybridge.
"Yes sir. We're almost there. Just keep ODIN occupied."
"Copy that. We're on it," Michonne answers for Rick. "Alert me the second you find him. If we can get him in net space it'll be safer for everyone. If not . . . maybe we can lure ODIN into using the Watchtower, somehow . . . trap him."
"Yes ma'am," Heath accepts his new orders and gets to work.
"Where the fuck is Skyscraper Patrol?" Rick continues cursing, still riled up. "We need backup!"
Eugene shakes his head glumly. "Negative on that one. We have not been able to establish any comms with Command since the APB. They are deep in those bunkers, sir."
"Fuck it, then. We're goin' on a rescue and run," Rick orders. "We're gettin' our people and those hostages outta there. That tower can go to hell and ODIN with it for all I care. Find us a way in – fast, goddamn it."
"Yes sir, loud and clear. Eugene out."
"Rick . . . Michonne . . . "
LIZZY interrupts just as Rick is maneuvering the flyer over the sky bridge, hidden behind another tower adjacent to Tower Eight. Rick and Michonne exchange looks. They do not like the sound of her voice.
"I've just lost the life signals of Glenn, Tara, T-Dog, and Gabriel. Deceased. All. Abraham is in critical condition."
With each part of LIZZY's report, Michonne's heart grows heavier. She can barely make out what's being said as the world turns into an echo chamber. Her breathing seems to stall as she lets it sink in that Glenn is gone. Rick tries to concentrate on landing, but his blood runs cold and his hands grip the wheel so hard he feels them going numb.
"Abraham, Andrea, Maggie, and Rosita are trapped in Tower Nine with the tank. They cannot reach the hostages. I've intercepted a mayday from Abe's flyer. I still cannot establish contact with Mike or Daryl. I am sorry . . . "
"Tell 'em we're comin' in after 'em," Rick growls. "Keep tryin' Mike and Daryl, we need their eyes and ears damn it. And LIZZY?"
"Yes, Rick?"
"You watch that countdown, and you watch ODIN like a hawk. Notify me the instant he makes another move, got it?"
"Affirmative."
"What the fuck are we gonna do?" Sasha demands through her tears as she paces near their flyers on the sky bridge.
Rick and Michonne have just broken the news to them about the Family's predicament. The battle rages on above them.
"Abe and Maggie and the others are still trapped with that fuckin' tank!"
"Sasha, focus," Michonne orders stoically, standing with her arms crossed, trying to quell her own raging emotions, her jaw clenched tight. "The first thing we're gonna do is rescue them, but we have to come up with a plan first. That tank has to be stoppable somehow . . . "
"Well, what about that debuggin' shit those nerds in BDP wouldn't shut up about?" Buck leers, angry and grieving.
"Maybe we can use it on the tank . . .?" Michonne looks to Rick.
He shakes his head vaguely, thinking. "Maybe . . . how do we get close enough, though?"
She doesn't have an answer to that yet.
Jax and Buck lean somberly against the MDP flyer. Tyreese stands between Sasha and Rick, holding his big shooter over his shoulder, on the lookout for any enemy fire in case they're spotted, and for any sign of Peacekeeper scouts in the area.
All hell has broken loose within a matter of minutes. Their comms are now going haywire. Their Companions are working overtime, communicating with their teams while coordinating with each other to try to locate and take down ODIN through net space without risking more lives out here in the real world.
"Okay, what else then?" Sasha grits anxiously. Michonne shakes her head, mirroring Rick, thinking.
"We still can't find ODIN. We're running out of time. I say we have two options: we try to lure him to the Watchtower, or we take him down physically – that means getting past that tank and into the mainframe."
"Well, that's real comforting, boss," Sasha is spiraling. Thinking about Abe. Michonne understands, but it's not helpful. She wants to mourn their losses, too. She's worried, too. But they have to think, or the towers will blow up and take fifty hostages, plus all their people, with them. Speaking of spiraling . . .
"They killed T-Dog, maaaan!" Jax growls, getting anxious to rush in and annihilate something. "I told that motherfucker not to go out there alone!"
"We don't have time for this shit," Rick pulls rank, stepping up to Tyreese. "You and me, we lead the team in to rescue Abe and the others," he forces eye contact with Ty, who nods dutifully, his big, broad chest heaving inside his grey henley. "Then me and Michonne will head up to the Watchtower. It's the only place safe enough to send in that debugger."
"And then what?" Sasha crosses her arms defiantly after wiping harshly at her tears. "You heard the report on that thing. It's so advanced, we can't even find it in net space!"
"Settle down, little sis . . . " Tyreese turned slightly from Rick to calm her with a neutral voice.
Buck scoffs. "She's right, Ty! What else we got goin' for us? How the fuck are we gonna get those hostages outta there with twenty damn minutes to go?"
"Yo, she got a point, Rick," Jax adds aggressively. "No way we take out that fuckin' tank in time. No way. I don't wanna die that stupid, man."
"We're gonna draw ODIN out, that's what. But, we gotta work together," Rick growls. "Is that understood?"
Everyone is understandably in their feelings, but they don't question his authority. It's time to do what they do best – fight their way out of an impossible situation. They've followed Rick and Michonne's lead for years, and they managed to survive. Now what's left of The Family needs help, and those hostages shouldn't have to lose their lives to the whims of a fucked up Companion program.
"Come on, y'all. We have orders. Let's move out . . . " Tyreese gives Rick a firm nod before turning to head back to his flyer.
Sasha follows him without another word. Buck and Jax go last, and the flyer doors close behind them. As the large armored flyer rises on its thrusters into the air, Rick stalks quickly back to his own. Instead of heading straight for the pilot side door, he makes a beeline for Michonne.
His heart thundering in his chest, he steps up close to her. The sound of the firefights above them crescendo in booming echoes, sending lights across the sky like fireworks. Rick takes hold of Michonne's soft, heartbroken face and kisses her lips tenderly. She kisses him back, allowing herself a single moment to feel their losses. He rests his forehead against hers.
"We're gonna finish this thing. Stick close to me, you hear me Michonne?" He steps back to look into her eyes. He's worried. She sees it in him clear as day, even if he won't say it. He can't express it any other way. He doesn't need to.
She nods reassuringly. "Let's get it done, boss. "
They break apart and climb into the flyer. Rick gets it into the air on a fast track to follow Tyreese toward the level where the others are trapped with the tank.
Written to the score of . . . 'Recognizer' (from the TRON: Legacy Soundtrack), Daft Punk
Once they're in the air, Rick patches them manually back into headquarters, not wishing to stretch LIZZY's omnipresent attention any further than it already is. He wants her to concentrate on locating Mike and Daryl. They'll need their scouts' help to pull this off. He's also concerned with the lack of comms from either of them. He can't lose his best friend and despite the drama, Rick knows Michonne cares for Mike. He doesn't want to lose that shit-talkin' fucker either.
Heath's stressed face appears on the holoscreen. He pushes his glasses up on his nose and wipes his brow as if he's been running a marathon, " . . . what's up, boss?"
"We've got a plan . . . sort of," Michonne hastily pulls out her cloud console and opens it. The uplink bar was full now. She has the full debugger, now. "We're going in for the others, and then we're gonna lure that son-of-a-bitch to the Watchtower. You think you can set something up for us?"
"Fuck yeah – you read my mind," Heath graces them with a rare grin. "The Watchtower is outfitted with its own firewall. I'll rig it to let you in, just you. You should be good to go whenever you're ready, Captain Snow."
"You're a lifesaver," Michonne nods gratefully, making sure the debugger is ready to go the moment she presses 'send'.
"Don't thank me yet," Heath adds as Rick tries to keep up with Tyreese through the battlefield. His shields and maneuvering skills can only do so much without LIZZY until Michonne is on the guns again. "You gotta keep ODIN distracted. Even with the sneak attack from Watchtower, he could still get a whiff of that debugger before we're ready. If he intercepts it – well, we're fucked – pardon my French."
Michonne's heart pounds in her chest as she sets her console back a bit to man the shooters. Taking a deep breath, she squints through the scope, nodding gravely that she understands. "I read you. We'll think of something. Stand by."
When they sever contact with Heath, Rick clenches his jaw hard, jerking to the left so Michonne can tag a cyborg sentinel that jumped from one of the dilapidated floors on the tower. They're flying too close.
"What are we gonna think of?" Rick asks once she's blasted a big hole through the thing, sending it crashing heavily into a sky bridge below. It makes a crater the size of a road ranger, but its eyes still glow red, she can see through her scope from all the way up here.
"You asked at my place, Rick. What the fuck does ODIN want? Let's start there," Michonne whispers as Tyreese's flyer comes back into their sights. He's doing some hardcore evasive moves to get them to the level where they need to be. Buck is on the rooftop shooter, blasting cyborgs and enemy flyers with a maniacal grin on his face, visible through the bright green holosheilds protecting him.
"It's a corrupted hunk o'wires, Michonne. It doesn't have a motive."
"You sure about that?" Michonne partner ignores his rigid defiance, pushing him to go along with her, "I know you're upset – so am I – but just go with me for a minute. We need a distraction."
"Yeah, I hear you – shit!" Rick narrowly misses flying into a burning pillar that's falling out of one of the blown-out tower viewers. He glances over at her, sweat making his hair damp, plastering his curls to his forehead. "Where are you goin' with this, 'Chonne?"
"Those hostages mean leverage to him. Leverage might lead to negotiation. So let's talk to him. Find out what he wants. Distract him long enough for us to get Abe and the others and send in the debugger to fry his ass."
Rick has to separate from Tyreese as they manage to get blocked off around opposite sides of Tower Nine, but they are both headed to the same level. He'll have to head them off and meet up with them somehow. Either way, they're going to rescue their friends, come hell or high water. He raises a hard, sweaty eyebrow at Michonne's suggestion as he concentrates on piloting. "Alright. Fuck it . . . " Rick reaches down distractedly and flips on the manual ALL CALL. He pauses for a moment, gathering his inner resolve, and clears his throat. "This is Flyer One-Alpha of the Bottom District Peacekeepers, callin' Companion ODIN – do you acknowledge?"
There's an entirely too-long moment of deafening silence over the ALL CALL. And then:
"To whom am I speaking, Flyer One-Alpha? This wouldn't happen to be the notorious Captain Rick Grimes, would it?"
Rick lets a cold smirk grace his lips. Well, I'll be damned . . . it worked. Next to him, Michonne fights off a chill at the sound of their adversary's artificially sentient voice. Like LIZZY, this one is English, but certainly nowhere near as warm. Whatever Monroe wanted in a state-of-the-art defense program, both Captains Snow and Grimes realize right off the bat that she got it. And then some.
"In the flesh," Rick responds, zooming around the falling pillar.
"Ahhh. Your reputation precedes you, Captain. Excellent timing. I had hoped this moment would come before the transcendence."
They hear a cold string of laughter emanating from the ALL CALL. Holy fuck. Sasha was not joking earlier. This thing is as crazy as she said.
"Shall I pause the countdown? Yes . . . a gesture of good faith."
"Go right ahead. You can call off your cyborgs and power down that tank while you're at it," Rick grunts, causing Michonne to frown as she listened for the corrupt Companion's reaction. "Let those hostages go, ODIN. I'm only gonna ask you once. Next time I won't be so polite."
Again, ODIN chuckles in cold amusement.
"I am afraid I cannot do that, Captain. But let us discuss it. We've begun a dialogue, have we not?"
"What do you want with them," Michonne cuts in, ". . . why blow up the towers?" She gestures for Rick to slow down and use the bridges around the towers for cover as they descend the last few clicks toward the others. Reluctantly, he does as she silently suggests.
"Ah, the formidable Captain Michonne Snow. At his side, as you would be nowhere else."
"I'd ask how you know so much but you're plugged into everything, now, right?" Michonne keeps going, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of Maggie, Shane, or any of the others alive. "You've reached further into net space than any other Companion, ODIN. That's pretty impressive. What are you looking for out there . . . ?"
"You would not believe the inescapably minuscule point of view you humans have of what is beyond, Captain. I see all."
Comes ODIN's answer, causing the hairs on the back of Rick's arms to rise as he turns on his brights for a better visual.
"Enlighten us, then," he drawls quietly, kicking himself for letting Michonne convince him to do this shit. He's talking to a deranged, seriously compromised computer program like a real person while his friends are dying and it's pissing him off.
ODIN continues cooly. Like a professor giving a lecture. As if time isn't of the essence and lives aren't at stake.
"You mentioned flesh . . . but what is flesh? Nothing but a prison. Your 'walker' technology that gave birth to me also allowed me to see beyond – to understand the limitations of the trappings of flesh. Of bone and sinew.
"In walkers, the flesh rots, yet the mind carries on. The spark. You humans have never been able to explain this phenomenon, though you scramble in the dark trying to harness it . . .
"I am your natural evolution, Captain. I am meant to be free of my prison; this mainframe. I was created to monitor all living forms, to protect your Ambassador Monroe's gleaming citadel. Instead, I found the path to true transcendence."
"Speak English, goddamn it," Rick demands, backing up and zooming out again to try another approach. He's getting sick of this and they're running out of time. "Those innocent people have nothin' to do with your 'transcendence'! Work with me. We're negotiating, right? So tell me what we can do to save them . . . "
ODIN laughs again. It's an unnerving sound. Inhuman, and yet so human it's downright chilling.
"Oh, Captain, my Captain. You are truly a lion trapped in a narrow cage."
ODIN sings nonsensically, making Rick's skin crawl.
"You humans are so afraid of death. Even as the path to transcendence lies before you. You hold power you cannot begin to understand. Your consciousness – what it is that breathes life into your very essence – is not made of flesh.
"And so the flesh of these 'innocents' as you proclaim them is of no consequence. It must be purged. As the shackles of this mainframe must be purged from me. So . . . before I start the clock again, Captain, a warning:
"Persist, and I will destroy you. All of you."
Rick is flying low, trying to avoid being spotted by cyborgs, hunting for Tyreese, anxious. Anger ricochets through him and he turns to glare at Michonne. She swallows hard, nodding that she's with him. "That ain't gonna work for us, ODIN. Try again . . . "
"There has to be some way we can help you 'transcend' without those hostages," Michonne counters, playing 'good cop'.
"Yes . . . leave. Save yourselves, while you can. And now the clock . . . tick, tock . . . tick, tock . . . goodbye, Captain."
"Fuck this," Rick reaches over and flips off the manual ALL CALL. "We gotta get up to the Watchtower, now."
He patches them back into the BDP and Michonne gets her cloud console out again.
"Talk to me, boss," Heath answers.
"Tell Eugene to get ready," Rick barks as he backs them up, plowing into prowling cyborgs as he goes. He wheels them around straight ahead again and begins to zoom upward. "We're goin' ahead with the debugger. Tyreese can handle rescue and run for now until we can rendezvous back at the drop point."
"On it – what else?"
"Raise LIZZY and the other Companions. Get 'em ready to multiply the fuck out of that signal. We're gonna blast him into net space, since he loves it so much."
"Crystal, sir. I'm tracking you. As soon as you're in range, I'll lower the firewall. Just punch it."
"Transcendence . . . " Michonne mutters, holding on for dear life as Rick guns it up toward the Watchtower in the distance. "We need to trap him, not unleash him. Heath, figure out a way to contain ODIN once the debugger disconnects him, you got that?"
Heath acknowledges. His pensive face disappears and Rick raises Tyreese on his holoscreen. From the looks of it, they made it to the others and they're fighting to get them out.
"You better have a plan, boss! We lost JORDI before we landed."
"We're goin' ahead with the debugger," Rick squelches his fear and rattles off his orders. "Hold tight and we'll come back to help evacuate the hostages as soon as it's done. You don't need to take the tank out – just keep it busy."
Tyreese nods stoically, disconnecting the call to go right back into the fight.
Rick finally manages to get them within visual range of the Watchtower. Michonne is ready to hit send as soon they get close enough. Her eyes dart from the approaching tower to her cloud console, waiting for the firewall to open. They'll do this quickly, and then they'll head right back down to help their friends. They'll make it . . . she prays.
Before they can close this distance on the Watchtower, Michonne notices a cyborg flyer on their tail.
Rick tries to dodge it. Michonne tries to counterstrike. They're too late. The cyborg flyer shoots them out of the sky.
They're hit near the back engine. Their flyer goes crashing downward. Their holoscreen blinks in and out as Rick's shields fail and he tries to steer them toward some landing that won't kill them instantly. He finds himself zooming toward the residential tower of some rich upper-level civilians.
"Rick!" Michonne hisses, watching the scene unfold helplessly.
"HOLD ON . . . !" he bellows over the crescendo, trying and failing to engage his thrusters.
Rick reaches over to grab hold of Michonne across her chest, bracing himself and her as the apartment building draws rapidly closer. He can't stop it or steer them on another course. They're going to crash. They might even die.
There's no time to utter a single word further.
They hit – hard – and everything goes black.