Chapter 4: A Mothers Touch

Sarah leaned down to pick her helmet off the floor, as she held onto Max by the hand. At this point, he was a walking weapons platform. He stood with two rifles slung on his back, a grenade launcher magnetically clamped to his lower back away from obvious weapons fire, and a pistol holstered on his right hip by the same means. He also had his combat knife clinging to his left hip, although this one was marginally smaller than hers, and coated in dried blood from the recent heads he’d had to sever. He began retrieving the magnetic discs lodged inside the incised cuts he’d made in the back of one, as he held it up to the group of agents for inspection, as they now stood spread around him, peering on, as he performed the macabre task of retrieving them.

“This is how I knew where to shoot, the “Penetrator” rounds we designed, they had a magnetic attraction to the force of the disks”, he said as he showed it off by spinning it end over end in the air like a common coin. It was drawn to his wargear with ease over the less concentrated metallic conductors around them like those found the agent’s guns and even some tactical gear on active SWAT members around then. Max and Sarah knew that when hunting their own, there would be a much higher concentration of conductive metal in the sleeper agent’s armour and weapons, attracting them by much higher degrees than anyone else’s in the vicinity. The disks had helped exclude Sarah as a target; their armor forged with similar polymers to the sleeper agents, used to fortify their gear beyond anyone else’s current understanding.

As Max looked around, he was tempted to retrieve at least one of the miniguns, but decided against it, the weapon would become too unwieldy even after attaching the additional servo harness that came with it, especially if he wanted to stay even slightly mobile after this. Hartwell handed him his helmet back as Max gratefully took it and slid it over his head eagerly. Sarah knew how hard it was for him to live with the level of vulnerability he’d suffered through, instilled in him in his initial reprogramming, and that without the custom-fitted piece of his armour, it only seemed to get worse as he exposed himself to constant combat conditions, which was a more than just an unwelcome, regular occurrence, similar to how she struggled to let go of her knife. “We need to get moving”, she said before slotting her helmet back in place over her head, after tucking her hair into the flexible collar of her neck. “Has the server room been compromised? Are there any more traps that you’re aware of? Or any more sleeper agents roaming around?” she asked.

The director looked at her, then at Max, and then back at Clara, before finally nodding his head. “No, the server room hasn’t been compromised, we have a team stationed there now, and they’ve secured the perimeter and are awaiting further orders. They were trying to break me before bothering with the room itself, as a result...” he said as he indicated to the handful of bodies of sacrificed agents spread around him. “He made me watch as he shot them over and over again, aiming for non-vital areas, until he executed them, one at a time in succession. The least I could do was honour their sacrifice by witnessing it and not giving in, they understood that this was about more than just themselves”, he said with a steely glint in his eyes that testified to the fact that he had in some way or form, been in active service in the military, navy, air force, some branch of the department of defence aside from the current one he directed now that had lent him a perspective unmarred by selfish or self-deluded notions of heroism and left him only with its necessary truth at its core.

“Sometimes good people die”, Max said somberly “and sometimes all we can do is make sure the bad ones follow. All we require is the command to go ahead or to stand down. My only advice, consider what’s happening in this room on a global scale, in every law enforcement office in the country for starters. “And it won’t be just this FBI field office they’re attacking” Sarah began “There are currently fifty-five active headquarters from our understanding, and possibly none of them are fairing as well as we are, except maybe the one in Washington, so maybe we count this as the first two hours of a very long day, and we keep going until we clear this one out first, focusing on what we can fight and what’s in front of us until we get more intel and a clearer along with it. Our understanding though is that they’re not here to capture the building permanently, they’re here to cripple you, so you’re forced to retreat to the safer core of your operations” Sarah said. “That way they can harry you along the way with hit-and-run guerrilla tactics or eventually just strike at the main headquarters on their terms, not yours”, Max said as if speaking from experience.

“What we need now or at least after securing the building”, Sarah began “is a long-term safe house that doesn’t have any kind of digital footprint that can be traced, as we debrief you and anyone you see fit in accompanying us. Currently I can speak on our behalf...” she said indicating to both Max and herself “ ... by recommending and vouching for agents Clara Ozwynn and Walter Lowe. They have both been with us since before you were first contacted by her via phone call, from the ground floor-based interrogation room, and so far they seem perfectly able to accept and direct command over the situation, along with being capable of handling the responsibility of coordinating other agents you see here. They haven’t faltered, even when faced with the most extreme of circumstances as those you have yet to imagine”, she said. Her surprisingly diplomatic tone caught them all off guard except for Max who squeezed her shoulder thoughtfully with his hand, as she panned her head up at him in turn, with what they could only imagine was a thoughtful look, which Max knew for certain it was after fighting alongside her over the past week. The result of which left them relying more often on their body language, over a lack of facial expression to communicate to each other, when radio and direct verbal communication wasn’t swift enough to relay information. It had made things like expressing concern or other emotions through bodily gestures, along with sign language whenever they felt obvious communication essential. More so when they believed all other forms were compromised or too easily intercepted, which had been key to their survival along with an innate trust they had in one another.

“That”, Max added “And our families would need immediate relocation. In Sarah’s case her husband and children, who for all intents and purposes would be better off moving into the safehouse with us, so as not to compromise her fighting ability. In my case I’m currently not affiliated with anyone outside this room”, he said turning his head towards Sarah thoughtfully. “And at most, I’d recommend relocating my parents separately without debriefing me as to where in case that knowledge can be used against me”, he said not in a cold-hearted way, just a logical and pragmatic one that made everyone in the room understand that this was not a typical operation anymore. “Apart from that, we’d need it to have a workshop for further optimization and maintenance of our gear and armaments”, Max said simply.

The director nodded, the gravity of the situation not lost on him even as the room was filled with a sudden buzz of activity as the armed and armoured agents around them snapped into motion, following the new orders with a newfound sense of urgency. Clara and Walter exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgement of the trust they had placed in Max and Sarah. The duo had proven themselves, not just in their ability to weather the psychological stress compounded into them, but to lead others effectively who suffered from its same effects. It was something that they had been much in need of since the beginning of their ordeal and would be again before the day’s end, since the beginning of this nightmare as they recovered more agents along the upper floors in the effort to secure the building.

“Just how ... what level of threat are we looking at here”, Walter asked, keeping his voice steady as Max pointed to one of the now turned-off TVs mounted via a weight-bearing arm in the side of the room. “What we are encountering now is not the real war they’ll want to execute; by comparison, this is more like a slap in the face. When this is over the “real” threat will make its presence felt by doing the one thing no single leader of the world could do by themselves. Considering how many agencies and government complexes they’ll have to infiltrate successfully to get it done, aside from this one of course, it’ll give you a taste of their overall reach and agenda”, he stated flatly. “It’ll be unexpected”, Sarah said “but you’ll see a series of reports highlighting the infiltration of nuclear weapons installations, bases, and silos’ targeting the current nuclear arsenals in all available countries worldwide. The more sophisticated, the more likely they’ll be prioritized first over the more rudimentary ones. It’s the reason they didn’t take you out immediately”, she said directing her statement at Hartwell. “They needed to make sure they had access to everything they possibly could. They’ve probably already attacked and infiltrated the offices of the Homeland Security department in this very building, which we should go about securing and figuring out if they managed to...”, she looked around at the handful of dead FBI agent’s bodies and those belonging to the sleeper agents she’d practically chopped through in turn “ ... for lack of a better word “hack” their way into their sensitive depositories of data. If they attacked you...”, she said indicating the director Hartwell “they’re going to attack the Homeland Security equivalent in this building, along with notable national security operatives in their own respective field offices. This will in include members of the Central Intelligence Agency, along with anyone in the Department of Defense they deem necessary targets to demoralize a nation by virtually whipping out confidence in its internal security infrastructure once it’s failed”, she stated matter of fact.

“More than anything “they” want to neutralize the threat of nuclear retaliation in any way, on real or perceived enemies, and most likely will launch the missiles into space with a calculated trajectory towards the sun, which will be like launching a pebble into the ocean”, Max stated. “Those that can’t be launched this way will either be converted given the time to do so or they’ll manage to relocate certain government resources to transport and then execute these weapons harmlessly into places like open deserts or oceans, eliminating their potential destructive capabilities. They won’t work to stockpile or allow anyone to produce anymore, they’ll be depending on “conventional” warfare in whatever form that takes other than nuclear”, he stated, his tone matching Sarah’s, stating facts not guesses. He reached out with his open hand towards a remote placed haphazardly on a nearby desk, as it flew into his magnetized grip with ease before he pointed it at the TV screen mounted on the wall. A red LED showed that it still had a functional power source as he turned it on. The gesture of power was not lost on anyone, as the director nodded somberly, his face a mask of understanding and horror, as the first newsreels began to scroll over the screen as seemingly panicked news anchors tried to maintain their composure and failed. They reported the chaos that had been unfurling across the nation. “You need to make a statement, use the Manhattan field office to anchor everyone to some level of stability”, Sarah said as they watched the chaos unfold.

The director took a deep breath and nodded his face a mask of determination. “I’ll get on it immediately, but we need to move quickly,” he said, gesturing towards the secure line in his office. As he entered it and dialled the number, the room fell silent, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on everyone there present. “Meanwhile me, Max, and a handful of “composed agents”, Sarah said looking around knowing some were too nerve-wrecked or too exhausted to be of any immediate use.

“We’ll go and secure the Homeland Security department, we’re going to need all hands on deck for that, Clara and Walter should come with us, as potential “liaisons” between departments, because I doubt we’ll be eligible for that level of subtle diplomacy any time soon”, she said as she started looking up and down at Max’s gore-splattered and blood stained frame, as he did the same to hers with calculating eyes wondering how much internal damage she had suffered so far that had been suppressed by the suit and essentially removed by the “contingent’s” chemical solution.

“We also advise you do the same with the server room in person and allow the SWAT team there to know you’re fine and not being coerced into doing anything, allowing them to stand down for the time being but that they should remain on alert in case of surprise attack until every floor in the building is recovered securely”, Max stated. A lot of the agents they saw now, had funnelled down in the initial chaos and anarchy, only to be caught in the crossfire of sleeper SWAT agent members, alongside other employees evacuating from the Department of Health and Human Services, the Social Security Administration, the Department of Housing and Urban Development, the Federal Executive Board and the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.

It was a mess of random people both living and dead and they still had eighteen floors to run through up ahead. The idea of contacting other departments for help had been floated around but with the obvious incursion of sleeper agents, no one had been willing to trust anything beyond what they were able to see and act on themselves, which was understandable and why they tried to stay together as a whole. The majority of which now was made up of non-FBI agents from the other working departments in the building, and had never held a gun in their lives, compared to the solid few who had and were now unlikely to be of any support. Not unless they could stomach almost another twenty floors of this same mayhem they had already been forced to witness in its aftermath let alone whatever the infiltrators had planned for them. “We won’t lie and tell you there won’t be more “traps”, as a result, we might have to resort to more gruesome ways of bypassing them, as we’ve had to already, namely in the direst cases involving “genetic, infrared or motion” sensors which we have to feed corpses to literally, just to get here”, Max said plainly. “With permission from the other agents, of course, seeing as we had no other available countermeasure for “Ogre’s...” Sarah said as she indicated to the unconscious spider operative fighting to preserve his life in an unconscious state of cellular self-repair, aided by his advanced healing rate, tied down and secured for his own good in flexi-cuff restraints. “ ... particular speciality in warfare, which would have otherwise been like walking into a handy garrote wire meat grinder, that took just under ten corpses to clear a floor with, after we shredded both the overtaxed cables and pneumatic motors, just to give you an idea of their tactics”, Sarah added.

“Before we focus on anything more long-term we’ll head up, with anyone here and along the way that is both capable enough and willing to aid us, otherwise anyone we meet who is either medically or for any other reason unfit to do so, we’ll send them back down here. My advice is to vet everyone here and make sure everyone is who they say they are with authenticated credentials if possible, as part of the building’s official personnel. “They” like to keep an eye on things, with troops on the ground even when they fail”, Max said, as Sarah nodded in agreement. “They like to keep tabs on everything, so they can adjust and compensate with enough allocation of force and units according to their evolving data, as they learn to project a working solution for future problems they predict they’ll encounter by dissecting past mistakes”, she said.

The director nodded, understanding they weren’t facing your typical incursion but a well-formulated plan of attack with long-term goals, as he made his call. Max and Sarah exchanged a knowing look they shared between themselves that said they had been through hell and back and it was clear to both of them that it was far from over, but with every step they had taken, they had become more than just two lost prototypes, looking for a way out of the nightmare that was their life. They had become a catalyst for a change that neither of them had anticipated. “I’m gonna’ need your full names”, the director said to both of them before he added, “For the record, I want to be sure we know exactly who we are dealing with here.”

Both of them nodded in agreement “Max Mercer”, he said indicating to himself “Sarah Reed”, she said doing the same.

The director scribbled their names down on a notepad with a pen that felt far too small in his hand for the weight of the information it now held. He paused for a moment, looking from Max to Sarah and back again as if trying to fully grasp the implications of what he had just heard and the larger, global scale of the conflict they were headed to soon. “Understood,” he said with finality, his voice firm. “I’ll have the necessary protocols initiated immediately so we can...”, his voice trailed off as he seemed to stare into space for a second as all of them faced towards the same direction he was. They noted the TV had shifted to a live feed where seemingly airborne projectiles had been spotted leaving the earth’s atmosphere, their contrails cutting across the afternoon sky as they watched objects too lethal to be simple planes race off into the sky headed for ... the sun. “Well, there goes the neighbourhood “, Sarah said as if she were complaining about mundane and not the potential end of the world, as she watched the news anchors stumble over their words trying to explain the sudden, unexpected event. Soon more missiles on a global scale began to form a steady bee-line for the sun, as the world’s most powerful and deadly arsenals were emptied in favour of the enemy’s preferred method of warfare on the battlefield, in the form of chaos, and confusion.

Max and Sarah watched the agents around them seem to wither on the spot, looking for cracks in their reactions knowing at least one of them must be a sleeper agent but not knowing who until they had a way of weeding them out. Sarah knew much like Max that it could be anyone, even someone like Clara and Walter, who both stood mouths equally agape, as both former sleeper agents stirred the group out of its reverie. Sarah nudged the director with a squeeze of her hand on his arm indicating with her other hand as she raised it roughly around where her mouth should be with a curled index and thumb finger indicating he should take charge and snap them all out of it with a high-pitched whistle. As he did so, everyone’s eyes snapped to him and they all visibly straightened their backs, as if bracing themselves for what was to come, before he offered them a few words of encouragement and a brief outline of their new mission. “We need to make sure that those whom we’ve lost today get a decent remembrance, a decent burial to honour them, and that fact that they gave their lives in the hope we might not have to, that we might yet fight to see a day where the horrors witnessed here, can only be remembered as part of the day we grew closer together, not further apart as a result of the incursion we’ve endured. We’re going to need to move quickly,” he said, his voice echoing through the room. “We can’t let the enemy think they’ve won. We’ll target the Homeland Security department first, and then we’ll reassess from there as we aim to re-secure the building.” The agents nodded, their fear replaced with a newfound, tentative determination. Clara and Walter stepped forward, ready to follow Max and Sarah into the fray once again despite their reservations about what else could be lying in wait for them in the upper floors. They knew that their skills were needed now more than ever, providing a human face to their monstrous element, as good chunks of their armour were beginning to smell like fresh corpse meat, and the distinct and coppery sweetness was being replaced by a stronger more potent odour of lingering death that spoke of prolonged exposure to decay.

They moved through to the stairway, passing the aftermath of the Spider agent’s handiwork, a grim reminder of what they were fighting against. Max and Sarah led the way, their eyes scanning the environment for any signs of traps or remaining threats. Despite the horrors around them, their steps were swift and sure, their focus unwavering. The group encountered survivors, some of them injured and all of them traumatized, huddled in makeshift shelters of empty rooms and side offices. Clara and Walter by way of explanation of the day’s events provided some comfort to each member of the adjoining department’s workforce they funnelled down to the twenty-third floor, whilst Sarah and Max, provided by their silent presence alone. They offered a sense of protection and stability amidst the chaos, despite or maybe because of their outward appearance matted with blood and gore, amidst the other coordinated agents. Some survivors understandably had trouble believing they were there to recover them at first, and not outright execute them on sight. When asked if there were any more noticeable agents killing off or rounding up people in the floors ahead, survivors replied with a firm “no”, but the underlying tension in their eyes and the tightness of their jaws spoke volumes of the unspoken “yet”.

“More than likely a separate “Spider” operative”, Sarah said. “They don’t like working together, too many daggers and too many backs to sink them in, even if it’s just their own. They’ll follow orders but they “don’t play well” with others, they’re more like solitary predators”, she said “like a sniper who refuses to be caught running in plain sight and be made a target when he could just stealthily relocate”, Max added. “But when they have to, they have to”, Sarah said “My class isn’t designed to work in smaller groups, we prefer the more “advantageous” level of destruction that can only be achieved as a more well-organized platoon-sized group or above”, she said with more than a hint of a smile on her voice before Max chimed in and said “there’s a similar group bent on high-speed assault tactics, their called “Furies” after the Greek mythological legends but slightly different and more applicable to more “modern” combat situations. Whereas Hornets focus on agility any singular Fury does the same but for speed instead. They are likewise the apex in coordinated ground personnel warfare, they move like living wrath and seem to surf through the air when they’re fully equipped with all the right “instruments”, he hinted cryptically. “In their original assignment to a task, they were considered the elite, if they came after you; you might as well have signed over your death certificate then and there. Even the “Chiroptera” class, who were similarly built counterparts, specializing in manoeuvrability, making use instead of terror tactics, were not in my opinion anywhere near their fighting capability or graceful form. I’m sure Sarah would have made an elite Fury captain, without a doubt”, he said playfully as he nudged her playfully with his elbow.

Sarah in turn simply said “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me”, she said in a tone that indicated she was blushing from the sound of her voice as she nudged him right back with her elbow and she released light light-hearted chuckle. “What about you”, she said as they maintained a steady defensive formation into the next floor having proceeded through the stairwell cautiously with no sign of traps of other agents, either lethal or friendly. Clara and Walter in toe behind them, along with several other agents, including armed members of SWAT that had made it this far from the original six-man group that had travelled with them from the interrogation room. “You wanna’ become a “Chiroptera” and soar through the unfriendly skies?” she said, an obvious smile in her words as she said them before he answered simply “Only if I get to share them with you”.

Their banter, while seemingly out of place in such dire circumstances, served as a morale booster for the agents that had witnessed them in combat, they had seen their effectiveness, and their humanity, something that had slowly been drained from most of the FBI agents since the beginning of the attack. It was a stark reminder that even in the face of such horrors, there was a time and a place for humour, connection, and hope, even if they didn’t understand the context of their conversation. They understood it was rooted in the culture of war they’d been brainwashed in, used as a form of coping mechanism to deal with the sheer scale of death that was all around them. “Okay I have to ask”, Walter said “Before the curiosity or something else kills me, what is a “Chiroptera”, to which Max simply said with a newly hardened tone, with a hint of natural trepidation underlying it “Unlucky as hell, mostly”, before Sarah added with a softer more understanding tone, knowing they were just understandably curious “the term is just an adaptation from the Latin word for “hand wing”, which as you can probably imagine does not attach a very “happy” mental picture to it.

They were put through their paces, to say the least, even amongst our own; they weren’t necessarily cruel or violent, not when they first started anyway. But when you quickly find out that hope is not the tool that’s gonna get you out alive of the nightmare you’ve been dropped in, you tend to lose a lot of yourself and replace it with something different, something darker and more defined, like a jagged pill they could only swallow if they cut their own throats first”, Sarah said darkly, as her mood changed, becoming more brooding.

“Some though pushed these “defining” qualities to make them more than just a bunch of “wailing demons” waiting to put you down. They were men first and monsters second, it probably didn’t help though that the “mobile suits” they donned began to wear them instead. At one point they became trapped in them and they truly did become demons of sorts”, she said with a suddenly tired note in her voice. “It’s one of the darker parts of the “Cultura Wars”, they programmed it in like a mental history lesson, with endless dossiers acting as examples to be recalled at once”, Max said noting Sarah’s exhaustion “It’s like having a living library in your head, hosting a whole armies worth of the dead and gone, screaming in your head for attention sometimes it feels like you’re having the same conversations with yourself over and over as you review the information. It can get ... taxing, which is why debriefing at a safehouse will likely require much-needed rest afterwards, we’ll be able to relax and process what’s happened here today”, he said.

“But you keep talking about it like it’s already happened, but I remember no conflict large or localized enough which constituted the usage of advanced weaponry like what you’ve described or even what you have on you at the moment”, Clara stated as she halted the groups advance, unable to let the issue lie still. “Yet you keep referring to it in the past tense like it’s already happened regardless. Hinting at either a massive conspiracy to hide an unknown war of which no one, least of all the FBI know about or...”, Max and Sarah let the insinuation hang in the air before Max said “Keep going, your almost there, if I tell you you’re right, then you truly will believe I’ve gone mad, I essentially need “Alice in Wonderland” to say the words that are burning to come out of me. Simply telling you won’t be enough anymore, you have to start accepting the truth, at least in small non-lethal doses for now, he said, as Sarah agreed with a simple nod.

“So you’re saying these events, this war has happened, but “we” haven’t and essentially no one else has learned of it yet because it’s been covered up by whole governments?” she said as Max and Sarah jointly released an exasperated sigh. “No”, Sarah said “But close ... I guess”, before she added “This isn’t a government cover-up, no current superpower or otherwise can conceal something we’re discussing as if we’ve lived it and yet we couldn’t have because we’ve only been active as “agents” for about three months of training and a week of “active duty” before we defected. The imprinted knowledge stowed in our brains and the applied learning we can take advantage of from it doesn’t refer to any “current” war, hint, hint”, she said with what Clara and Walter knew was a definite smile on her lips.

“But if not a “current” war, then what?” Walter asked as he cocked his head to one side as he took in her words, trying to piece together the puzzle that was their past. “We’ll it’s nothing as stupid as a computer simulation, that would be lame”, Max said flatly, “otherwise where would we get the suits, the knowledge, the behavioural modification, and indoctrination to compensate for all the potential PTSD running around this place”, he said indicating around the desiccated and destroyed floors they’d made it so far through in general. “The best we can do for now is let you sit on this information until we debrief you later on at the secured safehouse, the director is setting up right now. We need to focus on the immediate threat and appreciate there are some things better left said behind closed doors, at least for now. Eventually, for the sake of survival the government will release this same information we have to give you, but not before we have a tighter grasp on a reformed infrastructure”, Max said. “Trust me it only gets worse from here”, Sarah said, the ever-present smile on her voice carrying into her words before she said “But that’s why we’re here, we saw what “they” were planning and the outright horror of it all compelled us to act and risk this gamble along with fighting for our own freedoms. So far it seems to have succeeded nicely barring the nuclear disarmament, but we need more organization and more than just two former sleeper agents like us to help you through this, a lot more”, she said steadily. Clara and Walter shared a look of understanding, they knew that Max and Sarah had seen something that was so monstrous, so large in scale that it had made them turn on their own, and if it was as bad as they were implying, it was something they’d need to be prepared for, something that could change the face of their world forever.