Chapter 11: Suspicions Arise
The next few days were surprisingly calm, with no action aside from the implantation of the AI Delta into Agent York. It was short lived however, as a series of explosions rocked the Mother of Invention and her crew. "What the hell was that?!" The Director shouted, leaning against the railing onboard the bridge.
"I don't know, but we're receiving reports of decompression on decks A through D." The Counselor replied calmly, reading out damage reports from his data pad.
Cursing, the Director turned to face the onboard security team. The team itself consisted of Agent's Florida, Wyoming, and Rhode. "Agent Florida and Rhode Island, put the crew on red alert. Wyoming, take a squad of marines and sweep the ship. Until we know what the hell that was, I am not taking any chances!"
"Sir, yes sir!" They replied. Florida and Rhode left the room to go wake the other Freelancers, while Wyoming gestured four marines over. They then ran out of the room together, headed for the explosions epicenter.
The councilor spoke up, "If I may, Director, nearby crew members report seeing a female black Freelancer sprinting away from the explosion just moments before it went off."
The Director shook his head, "it wasn't Texas; she's on a follow-up mission at this moment." He asserted firmly.
Holding up his data pad for the Director to see, he explained. "Agent Texas is not the only female in black armor…"
Rhode knocked twice on York's door, listening to a crash as the tan armored Freelancer attempted to navigate to the door. "Take your time…" Rhode grumbled, tapping his foot anxiously.
The door slid up, revealing York in his full body armor. "Sorry, what's up man?"
Rhode raised an eyebrow under his helmet. "You… You didn't hear the explosions? Or feel anything?" He questioned, incredulous that the #3 Freelancer could be so ignorant. See, this is why they say never meet your heroes…
York shook his head, "Nah, I was a little busy, remember?" He tapped the side of his helmet, and a small green figure sprang up. It was perched just above his shoulder, floating.
"Hello, I am the Artificial Intelligence program Delta of Project Freelancer." He spoke in an even tone throughout his introduction. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Agent Rhode."
"Pleasure's all mine, Delta." Rhode replied politely, ignoring his surprise. So that's what he was in surgery for. I wonder when I can get one. "How are you two fitting in?"
Delta spun on point to face York, before turning back to Rhode. "Everything is satisfactory, Agent Rhode. However, while York was sleeping I detected multiple impacts inside the ship. Are we under attack?"
"Delta!" York exclaimed, mortified at having been sold out by his new partner, so early on. "You green little cockbite…" He grumbled, crossing his arms.
Rhode sighed, "No leads yet, in fact I was coming to ask York for his assistance in the investigation."
Delta's green hologram moved closer to Rhode, "With your permission, I would like to analyze the blast site."
"Sounds good to me, let's move." Rhode answer, striding down the hall as York and Delta followed.
Agent Florida walked onto the bridge, saluting the Director and Councilor immediately. "Sirs!"
"At ease, Flowers. What is it that brought you here, if I may ask?" The Councilor asked, looking up from the business on his data pad.
Florida sighed, hunched over as though burdened by a great weight. "I've just gotten word from York and Rhode moments ago… It was sabotage, planted by someone onboard. Delta confirms it."
The Director nodded solemnly, turning his back on Florida. "Thank you Agent, you're dismissed."
"We'll do our best to find them Flowers, don't worry." The Councilor assured the blue armored Freelancer as he left the room.
There were a few brief moments of silence, before the Director's southern drawl sliced through it. "Bring in Agents Arizona and CT for questioning, now." He ordered, storming off the bridge as the Councilor set out the all-call.
"Now come along you, the Director wants to see you now. We both know how he hates waiting…" Wyoming sighed, four marines flanking him against 'Zona inside the training room.
"No, I'm not going anywhere with you." 'Zona spat at them, pissed at the interruption in her routine. "Now fuck off, before I make you."
Even Wyoming's politeness had breaking point, and he reached that as he unlimbered his sidearm. "Chaps, cuff her."
'Zona drew her pistol as well, holding her other arm up midway in a defensive position. "Just you try it…"
"Now there's no need for violence…" Wyoming began, before lunging forwards and swinging the pistol at her head.
'Zona easily dodged it, firing four successful rounds into the nearest marine. As he crumpled to the ground, she launched into a midair kick that slammed the next marine into the wall. Wyoming turned to face her, and fired quickly.
Face set in a grimace as she felt the bullet rounds ping off her armor, 'Zona slammed her fist into Wyoming's face. Who am I kidding; the mustache probably took the entire force of it. She swept her leg under him, and as he fell, 'Zona slammed the butt of her pistol into his groin.
Ignoring the now preoccupied Freelancer, she rolled forward, stealing the sniper rifle off his back as she went. 'Zona quickly took aim, painting a fine red mist in the air with the third soldier's blood. The fourth soldier wasn't a challenge, as he ran in the opposite direction she ruthlessly shot him in the back three times. Might be overkill, but who's counting…
"Agent Wyoming, I demand you report!" The Director shouted, listening to the static feedback from Wyoming's comm system.
Suddenly an all too familiar female Freelancer's sharp voice could be heard above the static. "You just made a big mistake Director, now I'm leaving and you can't do a damn thing to stop me. Agent 'Zona, out."