Disclaimer
These characters are the property of their creator James Cameron. I am only writting this for fun, so enjoy.
Back Story
Our tale begins at the end of season 2.
Fulcrum (Dark Angel)
Moderator: LadyTevar
Fulcrum (Dark Angel)
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'
Chapter 1 - Gambit
FBI Forward Operations Centre, Outside Tacoma Washington
Special Agent James Wellson walked into the ops control room just after midnight, he paused a moment to check the status of the six Agents that were working under his command. Most of them were bleary eyed and tired, and he couldn’t really fault them. They had just put in a 12 hour shift with no breaks. The Transgenic situation in Seattle had just escalated into a nation wide fur ball, and they were busy compiling and analyzing the latest Sector Police reports.
“You’re here very late tonight, Sir” His assistant Jones commentated from behind him. A young recruit, Jones had only been assigned to Wellson’s domestic terrorist unit a little over a year ago. Usually Wellson preferred his co-workers to have a little more experience under their belts before they were assigned to the field, however whatever Jones lacked in experience he made up for in sheer competence and ability.
Wellson prided himself in knowing all there is to know about the people he worked with, and Jones had graduated from the Academy top of his class. He was athletic, although not conspicuous in a crowd, intelligent, although not conceited about it and didn’t mind being corrected when wrong, and he was also a superb shot and capable fighter. Yes, given the situation the country was in, even now ten years after the terrorist attack, Wellson couldn’t ask more of a recruit than what Jones put in.
“You’re here too I see,’ Wellson began. “What’s so wrong about me being here too?”
“Nothing,’ Jones stammered with a slight sniff. “It’s just that, well Sir, you haven’t really been sleeping the last few days. And well given your age, I would advice rest.” Jones avoided his gaze slightly to the floor, as if questioning his commander shamed him.
“I’m old Jones, not dying.” Wellson spat with a wry smile. “Besides, with what just happened in Seattle today, I don’t think anyone could be getting much sleep tonight.” Wellson began to move to the centre of the ops room, as he began gazing over the screens in front of other Agents as they worked at compiling and analyzing data. Jones followed him slightly behind Wellson’s left elbow.
Most of the screens showed other Agent’s reports from the city proper, one or two were analyzing Sector Police reports to get a more complete picture. One screen though looked like a medical report, and the name MANTICORE caught Wellson’s eye.
“Is that some of the data that we have been able to restore from the Manticore facility?” Wellson pointed out to Jones.
Jones turned to follow Wellson’s gaze, and glanced at the screen. “Yes sir. That was about all that could be recovered from the fire. Forensic had only finished cleaning it up, and we ourselves just finished downloading it. From what I gather it they were able to recover most of the model designations, and their assignements, and as you can see,’ Jones gestured towards the screen, ‘their genetic make up.”
“God forgive us.” Wellson stammered as the face of one of the X2 series flashed by the screen. It was humanoid in appearance, except that it looked more like a lizard than a man. “Have we received the latest report from Detective Ramon Clemente of the Seattle P.D.?”
“Yes sir, it was just uploaded.” Jones responded.
“Good, bring it up on my-”a muffled cry out side the ops room cut Wellson in mid sentence. “What was that?” He demanded.
They moved in precise quiet steps, seven of them prowling the late Washington night. It had just gone midnight, local time, and a car with a single eldery driver had just pulled through the check point at a gate leading to the FBI’s forward operation base. It was a moonless night tonight, and even though it was overcast, and there was only a singular light on top of the guard’s booth, neither of them had a problem seeing.
Dressed in all black, form fitting uniforms without any insignia or designation, they melted into the background like wraiths. Their very presence went undetected by the three Sector Police road blocks they had dodged to get here, and just like those Sector Cops, the guard at his station was oblivious to their existence.
They waited and watched as the elderly driver presented his identification to the guard. “Go right through Agent Wellson.” They heard the guard instruct the driver as he raised the barricade to allow the car to pass. The leader of the pack raised his left hand and told them to hold. Making eye contact with each of them, insuring that they were paying attention, he spoke in a barely audible whisper.
“Let the old man move off first.” He gazed again at the guard station with the barricade. “I will deal with the guard. Move in on my signal, and be careful of security cameras.” When they all nodded in agreement, he gazed back towards the guard. “Switch to TAC Frequency 3.” With this last instruction he dashed from their staging place among the brush on the side of the road.
He ran as fast as the wind. Gliding up behind the doomed guard who had let his attention waver and was still looking at Agent Wellson’s car as it rounded the building towards the parking area. Just as the sound of the brush moving behind the guard, had reached his ears, he felt a vice like grip around the back of his neck. With a violent snap of the assassin’s wrist, the guard’s second vertebrate was broken, the black-clad assassin dumped his body un-ceremoniously into the guard box and knelt behind it.
He paused a moment to extend a small mirror to allow him to see the security camera around the corner. He was pleased to see that it too was following the movement of the car, and wasn’t at present covering the entrance. Reaching up to his right shoulder he depressed a button activating his comm. “You know your assignments. No shots fired if possible, we meet up inside the building, just outside the ops room. I will head straight for the security surveillance room.”
Cutting off his comm, he paused another moment to ensure that the camera’s field of view hadn’t swung around yet. When he was sure that he was clear, he sprinted off towards the FBI’s forward operations building, with the same characteristic speed he had displayed before, staying to the shadows and moving soundlessly. He stopped just underneath the East wall of the building.
He looked up and could see a few lights switched on, on the second floor, but most were more often than not they were off. He knew that the security room was on the third floor, and that it was accessible via the roof. Taking a step back, and leaning out from the wall he allowed his senses to extend forward, he could see shadows moving, one-no two-he corrected himself. I can deal with two.
A slight scuffing noise, of boot against concrete behind him brought his attention back to the present, the noise moved off towards the guard tower. Slowly, he eased himself deeper into the shadow, and began to twist around. He was about to launch himself at the guard, when one of his team mates, sprung out of another shadow along the wire fence in front of the stunned guard. The guard barely had the time to yell in surprise as his throat was crushed by a vicious chop by the other black clad assassin.
The assassin grabbed the guard as he fell and carried him swiftly next to the wall where his leader waited and watched. Their eyes met in understanding. The leader’s hand once again moved to his right shoulder as he activated his comm. “Shift change. We have five minutes, ten max before the alarm is raised. Double time.” With a final nod to his companion, the leader of the assassins bent his knees and sprung up a full ten feet.
His hands reached out and found the window sill of a second floor room. He paused for a moment to listen to the tempo of the building, there wasn’t a soul anywhere near him that could have heard him grab onto the sill. Slowly he pulled himself up, using only his upper body strength, and keeping his feet tense and straight, so as to not make any more noise than necessary.
When his feet were finally on the window sill, he moved over and grabbed the drain pipe running down the East wall. Once again he paused; he could hear a conversation from the roof. It told him that the two guards he made earlier were further towards the West wall, where the entrance to the third floor was. Slowly easing the rest of his weight onto the drain pipe, he began to climb up to the roof.
He reached the roof shortly after, the conversation had died by now. Once again he allowed his senses to stretch out. He couldn’t hear any movement, and wondered if that meant that they had gone downstairs for shift change. He looked to his left and then right, to see that both cameras were covering the grounds and no the building its self. He was about to spring up when a smell of cigarette smoke wafted over the edge of the roof.
His arms froze and went taught like coiled springs. Again he allowed his hearing to listen even harder. While the wind was mild tonight, it still affected a rustling sound in his ears, but slightly beyond that there was a small shuffling noise. A noise generally made when weight was being moved from one foot to another. He judged that it was still the two guards on the roof, having their last cigarette before shift change, and that they were probably still over to the West wall.
Slowly, inch by excruciating inch he raised himself to peak over the roof edge. There just as he had thought were the two guards. One had his back to him, while the other was staring off towards the North wall. He lowered himself slowly, releasing a breath of air. When his arms were fully extended he paused to centre himself. Then with a quick pull and push he vaulted over the roof edge and landed on the roof.
As soon as his feet hit the concrete, he ran directly for the two guards only twenty three feet away from him. The guard that was looking out towards the North wall saw movement on his right, when he shifted his gaze his face split in surprise. A blur was moving right on top of him. He barely managed to spit out his cigarette, when he was bowled over backwards by a violent kick to his chest.
The second guard reacted almost immediately, like his now fallen comrade he too spat out his cigarette, his right hand snaking across his chest for his holstered side arm on his left side as he spun around. The assassin, let the momentum from the kick he just delivered carry his weight forward as he landed on his extended leg. Planting it firmly on the ground, he pivoted delivering a sharp jab at the second guard with his elbow.
The second guard took the blow to the side of his head with a grunt of pain. His eyes watered, and his right hand fumbled for his weapon as he tried to shake his vision clear. The assassin, just finishing from his pivot, used a quick left-right side step to position himself behind the standing guard. His right hand slithered its way across the guards left cheek, and planted its self firmly under the guard’s chin, with his right leg angled diagonally behind the guard’s feet, he wrenched his hand up and backwards.
The guard had no choice but to follow, as he tried to move his feet to maintain balance, he tripped up over the assailant’s leg and landed hard on his back, banging his head against the concrete roof.
By this time, the first guard had managed to get up on one knee, and had just proceeded to aim his weapon on their assailant. Seeing this the assassin took one lightning step forward, his hand outstretched, he ripped the gun from the first guard’s hands in one swinging motion. As his hand swung across his body, the assassin suddenly reversed its motion and sent it swinging back towards the guard on one knee. It connected with a satisfying thump, as the guard fell backwards again.
The assassin stepped over him, bent one knee on the guard’s chest, and pummelled his fist viciously into the guards face to stun him. Then dropping the weapon, he reached out with both hands, either side of the guards head, and twisted. The guard fell back with empty eyes, all life extinguished. Silently and mercilessly the assassin repeated the process on the second guard.
Pausing a moment, to listen for any signs of alarm, he took slow, shallow, measured breaths.
After assuring himself that no alarm had been raised, he moved into the stairwell leading to the third floor. Reaching the entrance door he paused and moved left to right scanning the corridor from the small rectangular window. He could see the door to the security room to his left, carefully, quietly he worked the door handle and opened it slightly. Peering from the crack one final time to see the corridor, he swung the door open.
Easing himself into the corridor, he moved towards the security room. He found the guard, sitting in front of all the monitors watching the screens, with a quick motion of one hand, he snapped his neck like the guard at the entrance out side. Dumping the guard, out of the way, he closed the door and then sat himself at the control desk and activated his comm..
“We have eyes. All teams, report.” He spoke.
“Tandem 1,’ a voice called into his earpiece. “Perimeter secured.”
“Tandem 2,’ another voice chimed in. “First floor secured.”
“Tandem 3,’ the last team reported in. “Stair well secured.”
He gave the security screens one more quick glance before speaking. “Third floor and roof secured. Everyone meet at second floor stairwell.” He cut off his comm, and then de-activated the security cameras. He made his way back to the stairwell, and met up with the rest of the team.
“Okay, the second floor is light on security, much like the third. I saw only three guards, unfortunately they are all stationed outside the ops room, and they are at the end of a very long hallway, that rather inconveniently happens to be very well lit.” He paused to look at all of his team members. “Which means that we are going to lose the element of surprise. Use the silencers, and as soon as the guards are down, we move straight into the ops room. There are five agents in there as well as the old man. Consider all armed, and shoot to kill-except for the old man. Clear?”
When the entire team nodded in confirmation, he made his way to the second floor door. His hand tightened on the handle, with one smooth wrenching motion he pulled the door open and made his way through in a flash. He ran straight down the corridor, towards the three guards, his weapon out stretched, and aimed. Still running he squeezed off two quick shots, the first guard crumbled in a heap. A hissing sound behind him told him that one of his other team mates had just fired their gun, as a second guard collapsed like a heap on the floor.
He was almost to the end of the hallway when the third guard also fell victim to his team, unfortunately the guard managed to let out a muffled cry.
“What was that?” He heard coming from inside the ops room, without hesitation he kicked the door down and burst into the room with the rest of his team hot on his heels. One of the doors caught an un-lucky agent that was standing behind it flat in the face, he fell backwards as other agents jumped up in shock. And yet most of them had the presence of mind to reach for their guns.
A few quick shots from him and his team, and three were down instantly. The old man seemed to push another agent out of the way, as they hid behind a desk. The two remaining agents sought similar cover as line were drawn.
Fire was exchanged, as the two sides sought to get a cheap kill while all the initiative was lost, and fought to be gained. Then two clear shots were heard to ring out by the intruders, followed by a shocked exclamation.
“Jones what the hell are you doing?” Agent Wellson screamed in disbelief. His eyes staring down the barrel of his prized recruit’s gun.
“Stay quiet and you might get out of this alive James.” Jones responded with a cold edge to his voice. “Fe’nos tol, brothers.”
“Fe’nos tol,’ responded the leader of the intruders, ‘brother.” He and the rest of the team got to their feet and made their way up towards him.
“Have any trouble getting in?” Jones asked.
“No, your plan was flawless.” The leader rejoined. “Exactly like you told us.”
“Good. The third computer on the left has all the data in it. Make a copy and we’ll destroy the rest.” Jones instructed.
“What about other data, in other agencies?” One of the team members asked as he made his way towards the indicated computer. “Did you take care of that?”
“Yes.” Jones answered. “I uploaded a virus during the file exchange, totally benign until to try and access any of the flagged files, they delete when you try to open them. That computer is the only one that contains the whole truth. All the other agencies only have snippets of snippets.”
The team member seated himself at the computer and inserted a DVD/R into the drive. “What are the files called?” He asked.
“Just copy everything in G drive.” Jones instructed. “What’s wrong James? You are being awfully quiet.”
“You told me to be quiet, and that I may live.” Wellson spat emotionlessly.
Jones raised a slight eyebrow in mock disbelief. “And you believed me?”
“Seeing as that you are traitor to this country, a traitor to me, and generally not a very nice person?” Wellson asked rhetorically. “No I didn’t. But I thought better of it than to press the issue.”
“I see that while your body is aged, your mind is still sharp James.” Jones responded with a slight sniff of contempt. “But I am willing to bet your life that you are very much interested in figuring out who we are and why we are doing this. Am I right James?”
Wellson tried to stop his lip from curling up in disgust. “That doesn’t take figuring. You’re Transgenics, or sympathisers. You are destroying all official evidence so that you can help your little furry friends.” His declaration was met with an ominous hiss from some of the team members. One even looked ready to leap up and kill him.
Jones though only smiled. It was a cold, mocking smile that Wellson had seen a number of times when Jones had his assignment in custody. It was purely predatory. “Me? A Transgenic? I think I was a little too flattering about your mind still working James, if you think that I am anything like that genetic freak show, then you are very much mistaken. Pity.”
Jones paused for a moment, and then turned to address the leader of the assault team. “Amazing, isn’t it? How their only salvation, their only hope for continued existence rests there on that computer, and out there in Seattle. And all they can do about it is kill it?” The rest of them smiled knowingly at his statement. “No James, we aren’t any friends of the Transgenics, we are what they were designed to fight. We, are what they were designed, built, created to protect you from.”
Jones shook his head in irony. “You see James, we were going to take this Earth, as it should rightfully be ours. The plans were set, the time fixed and do you know what happened? One of us got cold feet.” Jones whole body shook with anger. “Five thousand years James! Five thousand years of patience, of tradition, of planning. And one of us decides; you know I don’t think this should happen!” Jones eyes widen in incensed rage. “He decides; that the meek shall inherit the Earth. He decides, to make warriors and soldiers to protect your worthless mediocrity. He designed and built the Transgenics.”
“I’ve got it all.” The member at the computer announced.
“Well James, it seems that our time has run out. Now the last evidence, the last detail on these Transgenics is gone.” Jones said in an almost conversational voice. “And I will let you in on a little secret James; the meek shall not inherit the Earth. We will. And when at the end, you idiots realise that you destroyed your one chance of survival, and that all the records of how to create more are gone … then James … then you will weep along with Sandeman. That is, if we don’t find him first.” Jones paused for a second. “Goodbye James.” He squeezed his trigger and shot Wellson, who fell back with a stiffened cry of pain.
Jones turned around to the leader as the rest of the team moved in. “Trash the computers, and then let’s go. One of you will need to get to Ames and tell him this loose end has been taken care off, the rest of you will go back and report to the conclave.”
“What happens after we make contact with White?” One of the team members asked.
“Wait to hear from the conclave for further instructions.” Jones answered. “I’ll go to see McKinley.” With a nod the rest of the team grabbed computers and started to smash them on their way out. Lying on the floor, holding onto consciousness with all of his might Wellson tried to remain as still as possible. He didn’t know why Jones had missed, but he was given an opportunity to live through this and exact revenge. And if what a fraction of what Jones had just said was true, billions of lives depended on it. Over and over, he kept repeating four names; Sandeman, Ames, White, McKinely.
The eight of them stood in the shadows as police cars, and an ambulance sped their way out of the FBI complex. They had waited after their withdrawal to see the end of their little drama.
“Do you think that Agent Wellson will survive?” The leader of the incursion team asked.
“That he did survive to call the ambulance is certain.” Jones answered. “Even though he is old, I didn’t shoot to kill, so hopefully he will. It would be a shame if all of this little production of ours was a waste. Either way, we move on to the next phase of our plan.”
“So, Jones is dead?” Another team member asked. X5-928S Jones identified.
“Jones, never existed.” He stated deadpan. “As Wellson will find out if he survives. I am X5-531S.” He responded. “It is sort off sad. Three years, of hard work gone. I think I will miss my cushy government job, with the nice retirement package.”
“Well you only get that if you were on the take.” The leader, X5-124S responded with a slight smile, one eyebrow raised.
“Ain’t that the truth?” X5-531S stated rhetorically with a breath of exhaled air. “Anyway, time is wasting, and we are losing valuable darkness. Did you bring it?” X5-124S reached into his open zip chest jacket and pulled out a small silver box. He handed it over to X5-531S, who accepted it and opened it for an inspection.
“You will find a change of clothes and the rest of your gear at Pigeon’s Nest Bravo.” X5-124S said. “Along with a new identity, just remember to use it only if you really need to.”
“Good,’ he said. ‘Head back to control, and inform X5-932S of our status. I will be heading to Seattle, I have a date with X5-452. Hopefully this little peace offering will let me live long enough to convince her of what she needs to do.” He placed the silver box in his inside jacket pocket, and without more than a simple nod to his other brothers, he turned and began to jog his way through the brush.
FBI Forward Operations Centre, Outside Tacoma Washington
Special Agent James Wellson walked into the ops control room just after midnight, he paused a moment to check the status of the six Agents that were working under his command. Most of them were bleary eyed and tired, and he couldn’t really fault them. They had just put in a 12 hour shift with no breaks. The Transgenic situation in Seattle had just escalated into a nation wide fur ball, and they were busy compiling and analyzing the latest Sector Police reports.
“You’re here very late tonight, Sir” His assistant Jones commentated from behind him. A young recruit, Jones had only been assigned to Wellson’s domestic terrorist unit a little over a year ago. Usually Wellson preferred his co-workers to have a little more experience under their belts before they were assigned to the field, however whatever Jones lacked in experience he made up for in sheer competence and ability.
Wellson prided himself in knowing all there is to know about the people he worked with, and Jones had graduated from the Academy top of his class. He was athletic, although not conspicuous in a crowd, intelligent, although not conceited about it and didn’t mind being corrected when wrong, and he was also a superb shot and capable fighter. Yes, given the situation the country was in, even now ten years after the terrorist attack, Wellson couldn’t ask more of a recruit than what Jones put in.
“You’re here too I see,’ Wellson began. “What’s so wrong about me being here too?”
“Nothing,’ Jones stammered with a slight sniff. “It’s just that, well Sir, you haven’t really been sleeping the last few days. And well given your age, I would advice rest.” Jones avoided his gaze slightly to the floor, as if questioning his commander shamed him.
“I’m old Jones, not dying.” Wellson spat with a wry smile. “Besides, with what just happened in Seattle today, I don’t think anyone could be getting much sleep tonight.” Wellson began to move to the centre of the ops room, as he began gazing over the screens in front of other Agents as they worked at compiling and analyzing data. Jones followed him slightly behind Wellson’s left elbow.
Most of the screens showed other Agent’s reports from the city proper, one or two were analyzing Sector Police reports to get a more complete picture. One screen though looked like a medical report, and the name MANTICORE caught Wellson’s eye.
“Is that some of the data that we have been able to restore from the Manticore facility?” Wellson pointed out to Jones.
Jones turned to follow Wellson’s gaze, and glanced at the screen. “Yes sir. That was about all that could be recovered from the fire. Forensic had only finished cleaning it up, and we ourselves just finished downloading it. From what I gather it they were able to recover most of the model designations, and their assignements, and as you can see,’ Jones gestured towards the screen, ‘their genetic make up.”
“God forgive us.” Wellson stammered as the face of one of the X2 series flashed by the screen. It was humanoid in appearance, except that it looked more like a lizard than a man. “Have we received the latest report from Detective Ramon Clemente of the Seattle P.D.?”
“Yes sir, it was just uploaded.” Jones responded.
“Good, bring it up on my-”a muffled cry out side the ops room cut Wellson in mid sentence. “What was that?” He demanded.
They moved in precise quiet steps, seven of them prowling the late Washington night. It had just gone midnight, local time, and a car with a single eldery driver had just pulled through the check point at a gate leading to the FBI’s forward operation base. It was a moonless night tonight, and even though it was overcast, and there was only a singular light on top of the guard’s booth, neither of them had a problem seeing.
Dressed in all black, form fitting uniforms without any insignia or designation, they melted into the background like wraiths. Their very presence went undetected by the three Sector Police road blocks they had dodged to get here, and just like those Sector Cops, the guard at his station was oblivious to their existence.
They waited and watched as the elderly driver presented his identification to the guard. “Go right through Agent Wellson.” They heard the guard instruct the driver as he raised the barricade to allow the car to pass. The leader of the pack raised his left hand and told them to hold. Making eye contact with each of them, insuring that they were paying attention, he spoke in a barely audible whisper.
“Let the old man move off first.” He gazed again at the guard station with the barricade. “I will deal with the guard. Move in on my signal, and be careful of security cameras.” When they all nodded in agreement, he gazed back towards the guard. “Switch to TAC Frequency 3.” With this last instruction he dashed from their staging place among the brush on the side of the road.
He ran as fast as the wind. Gliding up behind the doomed guard who had let his attention waver and was still looking at Agent Wellson’s car as it rounded the building towards the parking area. Just as the sound of the brush moving behind the guard, had reached his ears, he felt a vice like grip around the back of his neck. With a violent snap of the assassin’s wrist, the guard’s second vertebrate was broken, the black-clad assassin dumped his body un-ceremoniously into the guard box and knelt behind it.
He paused a moment to extend a small mirror to allow him to see the security camera around the corner. He was pleased to see that it too was following the movement of the car, and wasn’t at present covering the entrance. Reaching up to his right shoulder he depressed a button activating his comm. “You know your assignments. No shots fired if possible, we meet up inside the building, just outside the ops room. I will head straight for the security surveillance room.”
Cutting off his comm, he paused another moment to ensure that the camera’s field of view hadn’t swung around yet. When he was sure that he was clear, he sprinted off towards the FBI’s forward operations building, with the same characteristic speed he had displayed before, staying to the shadows and moving soundlessly. He stopped just underneath the East wall of the building.
He looked up and could see a few lights switched on, on the second floor, but most were more often than not they were off. He knew that the security room was on the third floor, and that it was accessible via the roof. Taking a step back, and leaning out from the wall he allowed his senses to extend forward, he could see shadows moving, one-no two-he corrected himself. I can deal with two.
A slight scuffing noise, of boot against concrete behind him brought his attention back to the present, the noise moved off towards the guard tower. Slowly, he eased himself deeper into the shadow, and began to twist around. He was about to launch himself at the guard, when one of his team mates, sprung out of another shadow along the wire fence in front of the stunned guard. The guard barely had the time to yell in surprise as his throat was crushed by a vicious chop by the other black clad assassin.
The assassin grabbed the guard as he fell and carried him swiftly next to the wall where his leader waited and watched. Their eyes met in understanding. The leader’s hand once again moved to his right shoulder as he activated his comm. “Shift change. We have five minutes, ten max before the alarm is raised. Double time.” With a final nod to his companion, the leader of the assassins bent his knees and sprung up a full ten feet.
His hands reached out and found the window sill of a second floor room. He paused for a moment to listen to the tempo of the building, there wasn’t a soul anywhere near him that could have heard him grab onto the sill. Slowly he pulled himself up, using only his upper body strength, and keeping his feet tense and straight, so as to not make any more noise than necessary.
When his feet were finally on the window sill, he moved over and grabbed the drain pipe running down the East wall. Once again he paused; he could hear a conversation from the roof. It told him that the two guards he made earlier were further towards the West wall, where the entrance to the third floor was. Slowly easing the rest of his weight onto the drain pipe, he began to climb up to the roof.
He reached the roof shortly after, the conversation had died by now. Once again he allowed his senses to stretch out. He couldn’t hear any movement, and wondered if that meant that they had gone downstairs for shift change. He looked to his left and then right, to see that both cameras were covering the grounds and no the building its self. He was about to spring up when a smell of cigarette smoke wafted over the edge of the roof.
His arms froze and went taught like coiled springs. Again he allowed his hearing to listen even harder. While the wind was mild tonight, it still affected a rustling sound in his ears, but slightly beyond that there was a small shuffling noise. A noise generally made when weight was being moved from one foot to another. He judged that it was still the two guards on the roof, having their last cigarette before shift change, and that they were probably still over to the West wall.
Slowly, inch by excruciating inch he raised himself to peak over the roof edge. There just as he had thought were the two guards. One had his back to him, while the other was staring off towards the North wall. He lowered himself slowly, releasing a breath of air. When his arms were fully extended he paused to centre himself. Then with a quick pull and push he vaulted over the roof edge and landed on the roof.
As soon as his feet hit the concrete, he ran directly for the two guards only twenty three feet away from him. The guard that was looking out towards the North wall saw movement on his right, when he shifted his gaze his face split in surprise. A blur was moving right on top of him. He barely managed to spit out his cigarette, when he was bowled over backwards by a violent kick to his chest.
The second guard reacted almost immediately, like his now fallen comrade he too spat out his cigarette, his right hand snaking across his chest for his holstered side arm on his left side as he spun around. The assassin, let the momentum from the kick he just delivered carry his weight forward as he landed on his extended leg. Planting it firmly on the ground, he pivoted delivering a sharp jab at the second guard with his elbow.
The second guard took the blow to the side of his head with a grunt of pain. His eyes watered, and his right hand fumbled for his weapon as he tried to shake his vision clear. The assassin, just finishing from his pivot, used a quick left-right side step to position himself behind the standing guard. His right hand slithered its way across the guards left cheek, and planted its self firmly under the guard’s chin, with his right leg angled diagonally behind the guard’s feet, he wrenched his hand up and backwards.
The guard had no choice but to follow, as he tried to move his feet to maintain balance, he tripped up over the assailant’s leg and landed hard on his back, banging his head against the concrete roof.
By this time, the first guard had managed to get up on one knee, and had just proceeded to aim his weapon on their assailant. Seeing this the assassin took one lightning step forward, his hand outstretched, he ripped the gun from the first guard’s hands in one swinging motion. As his hand swung across his body, the assassin suddenly reversed its motion and sent it swinging back towards the guard on one knee. It connected with a satisfying thump, as the guard fell backwards again.
The assassin stepped over him, bent one knee on the guard’s chest, and pummelled his fist viciously into the guards face to stun him. Then dropping the weapon, he reached out with both hands, either side of the guards head, and twisted. The guard fell back with empty eyes, all life extinguished. Silently and mercilessly the assassin repeated the process on the second guard.
Pausing a moment, to listen for any signs of alarm, he took slow, shallow, measured breaths.
After assuring himself that no alarm had been raised, he moved into the stairwell leading to the third floor. Reaching the entrance door he paused and moved left to right scanning the corridor from the small rectangular window. He could see the door to the security room to his left, carefully, quietly he worked the door handle and opened it slightly. Peering from the crack one final time to see the corridor, he swung the door open.
Easing himself into the corridor, he moved towards the security room. He found the guard, sitting in front of all the monitors watching the screens, with a quick motion of one hand, he snapped his neck like the guard at the entrance out side. Dumping the guard, out of the way, he closed the door and then sat himself at the control desk and activated his comm..
“We have eyes. All teams, report.” He spoke.
“Tandem 1,’ a voice called into his earpiece. “Perimeter secured.”
“Tandem 2,’ another voice chimed in. “First floor secured.”
“Tandem 3,’ the last team reported in. “Stair well secured.”
He gave the security screens one more quick glance before speaking. “Third floor and roof secured. Everyone meet at second floor stairwell.” He cut off his comm, and then de-activated the security cameras. He made his way back to the stairwell, and met up with the rest of the team.
“Okay, the second floor is light on security, much like the third. I saw only three guards, unfortunately they are all stationed outside the ops room, and they are at the end of a very long hallway, that rather inconveniently happens to be very well lit.” He paused to look at all of his team members. “Which means that we are going to lose the element of surprise. Use the silencers, and as soon as the guards are down, we move straight into the ops room. There are five agents in there as well as the old man. Consider all armed, and shoot to kill-except for the old man. Clear?”
When the entire team nodded in confirmation, he made his way to the second floor door. His hand tightened on the handle, with one smooth wrenching motion he pulled the door open and made his way through in a flash. He ran straight down the corridor, towards the three guards, his weapon out stretched, and aimed. Still running he squeezed off two quick shots, the first guard crumbled in a heap. A hissing sound behind him told him that one of his other team mates had just fired their gun, as a second guard collapsed like a heap on the floor.
He was almost to the end of the hallway when the third guard also fell victim to his team, unfortunately the guard managed to let out a muffled cry.
“What was that?” He heard coming from inside the ops room, without hesitation he kicked the door down and burst into the room with the rest of his team hot on his heels. One of the doors caught an un-lucky agent that was standing behind it flat in the face, he fell backwards as other agents jumped up in shock. And yet most of them had the presence of mind to reach for their guns.
A few quick shots from him and his team, and three were down instantly. The old man seemed to push another agent out of the way, as they hid behind a desk. The two remaining agents sought similar cover as line were drawn.
Fire was exchanged, as the two sides sought to get a cheap kill while all the initiative was lost, and fought to be gained. Then two clear shots were heard to ring out by the intruders, followed by a shocked exclamation.
“Jones what the hell are you doing?” Agent Wellson screamed in disbelief. His eyes staring down the barrel of his prized recruit’s gun.
“Stay quiet and you might get out of this alive James.” Jones responded with a cold edge to his voice. “Fe’nos tol, brothers.”
“Fe’nos tol,’ responded the leader of the intruders, ‘brother.” He and the rest of the team got to their feet and made their way up towards him.
“Have any trouble getting in?” Jones asked.
“No, your plan was flawless.” The leader rejoined. “Exactly like you told us.”
“Good. The third computer on the left has all the data in it. Make a copy and we’ll destroy the rest.” Jones instructed.
“What about other data, in other agencies?” One of the team members asked as he made his way towards the indicated computer. “Did you take care of that?”
“Yes.” Jones answered. “I uploaded a virus during the file exchange, totally benign until to try and access any of the flagged files, they delete when you try to open them. That computer is the only one that contains the whole truth. All the other agencies only have snippets of snippets.”
The team member seated himself at the computer and inserted a DVD/R into the drive. “What are the files called?” He asked.
“Just copy everything in G drive.” Jones instructed. “What’s wrong James? You are being awfully quiet.”
“You told me to be quiet, and that I may live.” Wellson spat emotionlessly.
Jones raised a slight eyebrow in mock disbelief. “And you believed me?”
“Seeing as that you are traitor to this country, a traitor to me, and generally not a very nice person?” Wellson asked rhetorically. “No I didn’t. But I thought better of it than to press the issue.”
“I see that while your body is aged, your mind is still sharp James.” Jones responded with a slight sniff of contempt. “But I am willing to bet your life that you are very much interested in figuring out who we are and why we are doing this. Am I right James?”
Wellson tried to stop his lip from curling up in disgust. “That doesn’t take figuring. You’re Transgenics, or sympathisers. You are destroying all official evidence so that you can help your little furry friends.” His declaration was met with an ominous hiss from some of the team members. One even looked ready to leap up and kill him.
Jones though only smiled. It was a cold, mocking smile that Wellson had seen a number of times when Jones had his assignment in custody. It was purely predatory. “Me? A Transgenic? I think I was a little too flattering about your mind still working James, if you think that I am anything like that genetic freak show, then you are very much mistaken. Pity.”
Jones paused for a moment, and then turned to address the leader of the assault team. “Amazing, isn’t it? How their only salvation, their only hope for continued existence rests there on that computer, and out there in Seattle. And all they can do about it is kill it?” The rest of them smiled knowingly at his statement. “No James, we aren’t any friends of the Transgenics, we are what they were designed to fight. We, are what they were designed, built, created to protect you from.”
Jones shook his head in irony. “You see James, we were going to take this Earth, as it should rightfully be ours. The plans were set, the time fixed and do you know what happened? One of us got cold feet.” Jones whole body shook with anger. “Five thousand years James! Five thousand years of patience, of tradition, of planning. And one of us decides; you know I don’t think this should happen!” Jones eyes widen in incensed rage. “He decides; that the meek shall inherit the Earth. He decides, to make warriors and soldiers to protect your worthless mediocrity. He designed and built the Transgenics.”
“I’ve got it all.” The member at the computer announced.
“Well James, it seems that our time has run out. Now the last evidence, the last detail on these Transgenics is gone.” Jones said in an almost conversational voice. “And I will let you in on a little secret James; the meek shall not inherit the Earth. We will. And when at the end, you idiots realise that you destroyed your one chance of survival, and that all the records of how to create more are gone … then James … then you will weep along with Sandeman. That is, if we don’t find him first.” Jones paused for a second. “Goodbye James.” He squeezed his trigger and shot Wellson, who fell back with a stiffened cry of pain.
Jones turned around to the leader as the rest of the team moved in. “Trash the computers, and then let’s go. One of you will need to get to Ames and tell him this loose end has been taken care off, the rest of you will go back and report to the conclave.”
“What happens after we make contact with White?” One of the team members asked.
“Wait to hear from the conclave for further instructions.” Jones answered. “I’ll go to see McKinley.” With a nod the rest of the team grabbed computers and started to smash them on their way out. Lying on the floor, holding onto consciousness with all of his might Wellson tried to remain as still as possible. He didn’t know why Jones had missed, but he was given an opportunity to live through this and exact revenge. And if what a fraction of what Jones had just said was true, billions of lives depended on it. Over and over, he kept repeating four names; Sandeman, Ames, White, McKinely.
The eight of them stood in the shadows as police cars, and an ambulance sped their way out of the FBI complex. They had waited after their withdrawal to see the end of their little drama.
“Do you think that Agent Wellson will survive?” The leader of the incursion team asked.
“That he did survive to call the ambulance is certain.” Jones answered. “Even though he is old, I didn’t shoot to kill, so hopefully he will. It would be a shame if all of this little production of ours was a waste. Either way, we move on to the next phase of our plan.”
“So, Jones is dead?” Another team member asked. X5-928S Jones identified.
“Jones, never existed.” He stated deadpan. “As Wellson will find out if he survives. I am X5-531S.” He responded. “It is sort off sad. Three years, of hard work gone. I think I will miss my cushy government job, with the nice retirement package.”
“Well you only get that if you were on the take.” The leader, X5-124S responded with a slight smile, one eyebrow raised.
“Ain’t that the truth?” X5-531S stated rhetorically with a breath of exhaled air. “Anyway, time is wasting, and we are losing valuable darkness. Did you bring it?” X5-124S reached into his open zip chest jacket and pulled out a small silver box. He handed it over to X5-531S, who accepted it and opened it for an inspection.
“You will find a change of clothes and the rest of your gear at Pigeon’s Nest Bravo.” X5-124S said. “Along with a new identity, just remember to use it only if you really need to.”
“Good,’ he said. ‘Head back to control, and inform X5-932S of our status. I will be heading to Seattle, I have a date with X5-452. Hopefully this little peace offering will let me live long enough to convince her of what she needs to do.” He placed the silver box in his inside jacket pocket, and without more than a simple nod to his other brothers, he turned and began to jog his way through the brush.
Η ζωή, η ζωή εδω τελειώνει!
"Science is one cold-hearted bitch with a 14" strap-on" - Masuka 'Dexter'
"Angela is not the woman you think she is Gabriel, she's done terrible things"
"So have I, and I'm going to do them all to you." - Sylar to Arthur 'Heroes'