Chapter 5: By the Gallon

Sarah was on point, bringing an index finger to her lips as she signalled for them to be quiet like she knew exactly what was in that room and she wanted them to see. Even Max was perplexed by what looked like the bowling stance she took up before she lined up her shot, using the doorway as her designated lane, before she took a few steps closer in a running build-up and then released the head held firmly in her grasp, rolling into the seemingly empty room. Before they could gasp they watched what looked like a series of semi-transparent, mechanical, multi-jointed limbs snatched the head out of the line of sight in the room in a collective hiss of movement. The main body of what they suspected to be a greater, mechanical arachnid threat remained unseen above by the ceiling equally cloaked and probably magnetized to the steel structure of the building. The limbs disappeared like silent heat blurs into the eerily quiet space of the room. Max proceeded to turn to the side of the stairway and drive his armoured head into its wall in a series of exasperated, light bashes, at least until he stopped for a moment and quietly asked out loud in Sarah’s general direction “male or female?”

“Judging by the overall length of the limbs how “quiet” its form capture and retrieval method was before it crawled back into its “hidey hole”, along with lack of outward aggression ... female”, Sarah said with a cheery, self-satisfied tone in her assessment before Max said “of course it is”, with no small hint of bitterness before he added for the sake of clarification for not just Clara and Walter but anyone even thinking of going close to it “remember the “granddaddy long legs we mentioned before?”, he said hopefully. As Clara nodded understandingly, Max continued “well this one’s the same class, but the problem is...”, he began as he turned towards Sarah for further elaboration he knew she was dying to give them “ ... is that unlike males whose bark is worse than their bite, the females tend to be the complete nutbars when engaging them in close combat”, she said with no small hint of personal pride for another female agents lethal nature. “But what does that mean for us?” Walter asked as he took the stairs up after them with caution. Max unsheathed the grenade launcher from his lower back, checking its working status once more before he was satisfied with it and replied bluntly “It means this chick is toast, along with all of her hungry “girlfriends” in the next few rooms”, he said icily. Walter noted how the floor plan was broken up into various self-contained rooms, each connecting to each with no way to bypass, from where he could see, as Sarah stood by his side as she gestured for Max to walk in by himself when he was ready.

“Aren’t you going to go in with him?” Walter asked almost nervously as he noticed she wasn’t following him in before Max added “The room was chosen well in this case, seeing as it has limited space for mobility and only one secure exit the Spider will no doubt intend to block. The other more than likely will lead to one of her “girlfriends” in the next room, therefore manoeuvrability is limited especially with most of the desks and computer equipment in the way, along with whatever she’s done with anyone she’s captured and slowly eaten. Sending in two agents at once is gonna pose a problem. If it does look like I’m struggling, then and only then does Sarah know to engage. She’s well aware of my limits and weaknesses, same as I am of hers”, he said solidly before he walked into the room cautiously, the series of semi-transparent limbs floating through the air around him as seemingly walked into them blindly. Before they could uncoil completely and spring their loaded trap from above, he purposely fell onto his back against the floor and fired directly up at the main body obscured from the rest of their line of sight from the corridor. The first of the incendiary grenades launched into her resulted in an enveloping ball of fire and rocking concussion that lit up the room even as it shook it, which had seemed only moments before to be covered in a thick layer of unnatural darkness, amidst its ready ambush.

A mechanical squeal replaced the fiery death charges explosive wall of noise, before another explosion rang out without hesitation, as he remained lying with his back against the floor angling his shots, whilst simultaneously putting as much room as he could between himself and the grenade’s explosive radius. The limbs and their owner retreated into the shadows of the room before even these failed to take form, spread from its retreating form, likely a defractor field at play as part of its camouflaged trap for the unwary. Another explosive round hit its target critically, the mechanical squeals never abating, only growing shorter and growing in pitch, before he replaced the launcher on his lower back and summoned his pistol on the opposite hip. It flew to his outstretched hand’s magnetized glove, as he began firing well-placed shots targeting the roots of each limb instead of the limbs themselves, preparing the portable welding torch. The Longlegs promptly fell to the ground on its metallic carapace acting dually as its active exo-suit of armour along with its set of anti-personnel weaponry, in the form of armour-piercing limbs. She used the folding mechanical limbs to magnetize herself via her connected body harness to the ferrous steel structure of the building, making it seem like she was clinging unnaturally to almost any surface when she was in fact levitating herself between the building’s hidden bone structure. Max reasoned she was probably juggling the strength of the current used to power the electromagnetic framework hidden throughout her veritable power armour, with the use of an on-board computer that combined would allow her to “wall-crawl” without having to constantly regulate it.

Like any ambush predator, she’d used her strongest weapon, her limbs, to thrust down and pin its unsuspecting prey, before suitably impaling it to death, and dissecting it into more manageable pieces. It’s where in case the moniker as a “Longlegs” derived from, after capturing their prey Max knew she’d use a secreted a digestive enzyme onto her “food” which helped break it down. These enzymes liquefied “it” and made it easier for her to harvest and ingest her meals.

He watched out for the acidic spit he knew she could spit very much like Recluse agents, unlike there’s though which was necrotized the skin it ate at, this one was made to dissolve wholesale, the moment it became exposed to the air. What surprised him was that she’d managed to secrete and regulate a ready acid supply within dull-coloured canisters, roughly the size of fire extinguishers set on either side of her back, as the first green, hissing globules shot through the air on a controlled burst of air-propulsion as a medium, not unlike a cattle gun Max guessed.

He dodged her desperate pot-shots at him as she backed away colliding with the office’s furniture and equipment getting in her way, as she shot wildly from the secreted launchers on her arms and the main body of her suit connected to the canisters through jacketed piping as he got closer. Landing shot after shot into her armoured carapace in quick succession, knowing she felt each round shaking her to the bone so that even if they didn’t penetrate completely they were hammering her into the ground with every successive round nonetheless, as the familiar ring of high-velocity Penetrator rounds sang through the air scything limbs from body as she went down.

Holstering his pistol he smashed his armoured fists into her helmet’s crown, aiming to concuss and knock her out before she could do any more damage, using his combat knife to cut what he could identify as direct lines to the canisters on her back safely. He proceeded to disable her suit, making sure he started with the limbs first just in case she got lucky and managed to land a wholly expected impaling strike through his head or any part of his body. Their remnants fell away with metallic clangs to the floor around him, as the busy welding flame ate at the dull-coloured metal jacket, housing the limbs, the stink of burnt steel and other unknown polymers filling the air around as he left nothing to chance.

The fact that the other Spiders weren’t attacking him was a good sign, it spoke true to their superiority complexes, by allowing him to cull them of their weakness with their downed ally now considered nothing more than dead weight in their eyes he knew, so that the next Spider could demonstrate themselves when it was their turn to engage him, how they were the true and ultimate threat, now that they’d studied his approach, taking their time to formulate a working tactic. By the time he’d freed the Spiders pilot from her suit, she’d regained consciousness, the intense heat of the welding torch needed to cut through her outer shell only sufficient enough to reach her protective undersuit beneath, providing a pleasant form of comforting warmth. She woke screaming wildly, as she released a flurry of blows against him, barely nudging his armour even as she spat fresh acid at him, which he deftly dodged, as she tried to fight what could only be in her mind her certain death to her masked former prey, now her executioner before he promptly knocked her out again with a swift blow to her temple as she fell back nerveless to the floor again.

Leaving her unconscious on her side curled up in a foetal position with her back to him, he removed several more delicate, interface nodules and insulated cables connected to her spine. They lead from the base of her back to the suit itself; he took careful note of her extended, artificial spinal column that mimicked her own in design, only the metal segments spreading over hers on the surface matched her suit’s dull-coloured shade of worn grey steel, with multiple interface ports for the required cabling meant to run from her as the operator to whatever she interfaced with. Max knew neither he nor Sarah could hope to deal with it right now, tying her natural hands and legs with flexi-cuffs he kept handy on his person at this point, before he waved the Op-meds in. They examined the artificial spinal implant practically grafted onto her natural one. The split in her clothing, tailored specifically for her implant parted over her bare skin neatly so she could effectively “jack in” to her battle chassis. The undersuit itself was similar to the Recluse agents, in a body-hugging suit fitted with armoured panels over crucial organs, her hands and feet with reinforced knuckles and soles on the bottom of her feet.

“It’s not necessarily harmful to her, but it needs to be maintained like any other working mechanical part with consideration to the human component around it to reduce swelling along the edges”, he said indicating to the bruised, purple edges along the metallic segments where the artificial spine hugged her own. “It’s been done recently and expertly and she more than likely knows how to effectively maintain the implant whilst taking care of the inflammation and any other aftereffects. My recommendation, hold her in custody, medicate her, and do not remove the spinal graft just yet, they were meant to be removable for the purposes of upgrading, as horrifying as that may seem now, in the future it’s a fairly common augmetic”, he said, as the medics hung on every world, securing her for removal as Max radioed in. “One more spider agent, unconscious currently being carted down, Longlegs variety, she has a spinal implant, nothing dangerous or life-threatening to either her or anyone else, when she can be transported to a more secure facility she’ll need materials to maintain her health whilst she’s conscious. Physically her skill set is based more around agility and intelligence over strength speed or stamina. I’ve got her “suit” for lack of a better word ready up here for retrieval too, you’ll understand after you see it why she can’t be allowed any kind of electronic equipment”, he stated “Oh and she’s probably got a few family members up here, she’s probably the youngest and weakest of them, so I expect the bigger one’s will show up last, but hopefully by the time we’ll have bagged them all we’ll be bringing them down in person”, he added, unable to hide his growing exhaustion as he took a seat on the floor resting his back against the wall beside the stairway entrance.

Hartwell to his credit understood some things were better left explained in person, especially after he told him she was another variant of the Spider class. Now the third they come into contact with after the Recluse and Ogre subclasses.

Clara and Walter looked on with a mix of awe and horror at the extent of the Spider’s modifications, as they waited for the medical team to strap her down and take here away securely with an armed escort. They couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for the girl in front of them, who despite her monstrous weaponry and tactics was just as human and as a result just a frail as they were underneath it all.

Sarah crouched beside him as he practically ached in everywhere, the concussive effects of the grenade blasts that had made it through jarring him bodily. But it was his efforts to pry her from her suit effectively without paralyzing the pilot inside that spoke to her. “You really do hate spiders don’t you?” she asked softly in an understanding tone. As he took a moment to catch his breath as he merely sat there, looking up at her before he said “No, only what they’re converted to”, he said simply without hesitation, just like they made us into this”, he said gesturing to them both “for better or worse, in our case”, he said sadly as she offered to help lift him to his feet but he reneged, needing a moment to catch his breath.

He offered to lend her his launcher and the ammunition he’d scrounged to help them through the upper floors, along with his portable welder, but she refused with a small smile, “it’s okay, I came fully equipped”, she said hinting to her dagger tapping lightly against her chest “I’ll admit though, I’m probably won’t have as light a touch as you”, she said with that same smile he could detect on her voice, under the mask.

Watching him work at dismantling the suit, the girl and the monster there within reminded her of how brutally efficient and cold they could be when they needed to but, luckily this time they’d been able to show some mercy. She noted her own lack thereof with the SWAT members she’d killed on the lower floors, Tapeworm agents with no notable enhancements other than their ability to organize and place themselves within key enemy power structures, built towards subterfuge, sabotage, misinformation, and Intel gathering. She looked over to the captured Spider agent, her hair the colour of fresh, golden wheat, the golden locks hanging just beyond her shoulders; her face mask had been removed to reveal a plain, youthful face, with creamy jade eyes that drew her in, before she snapped her focus away back to Max. “Just make sure you don’t fall asleep”, she said her voice light and teasing, as she turned to make her way to the next room. He wasn’t blind to the fact that the Spider bothered her and the fact that one so young could be turned so easily, noting his own words and wondering how close she looked to her own daughter Phoebe, having caught a glimpse of her in her totem photograph.

Before she stepped into the next room, he wrapped a gloved hand around her ankle slightly, catching her attention as he slowly lifted himself to his feet, with a series of grunts of pain and popping noises like bones clicking back into place again, as he composed himself for a moment. “We’re not monsters, we just fight them so often people end up believing we’ve become them, that’s all, so don’t worry so much about what happens when the monster costumes come off and they see what’s underneath”, he said warmly. “The only thing their gonna see is the loving mother and wife I know you are and the guy with the bad jokes you know I am, no matter how much blood, guts and gore we bury ourselves in like it’s going out of style soon”, he told her honestly. “And probably at least a gallon of my blood I’ll probably end up bleeding into my boots again”, he said with a note of dark humour in his voice, which he knew she liked, as he tried to raise her spirits before she nodded and turned to go, as Max watched her.

Clara standing beside him asked with an almost instinctual amount of trepidation in her voice at this point “Aren’t you going to...”assist” her”, she said almost lamely, as she looked back at the seemingly gigantic armoured suit of mechanical limbs, that were although now were severed formed what looked like an adjustable form of dead mechanical parasite the pilot had used to strap herself into like body armour, as he noticed this and said “they sleep in them”, almost casually. “Some even go as far as treating their suits like hammocks and rock themselves to sleep. It’s what I remember slash see in my available files, like a physical memory I know is false and implanted. They make it that way so we can learn from it and never forget the most hard-won lessons of a history that doesn’t exist yet”, he said almost bitterly. “Unlike actual spiders they have eyelids, but like them, they can control their metabolic rate to conserve energy, in case they have to go a long time between meals”, he said.

“But no, to answer your question she doesn’t need me slowing her down for now, whilst I catch my breath. Each Spider class reveals a facet they all share to some degree. The Ogre didn’t expect a duo made up of a freed Beetle and a Hornet capable of getting past the first Scorpion unit he put in front of us, let alone his traps. Even if we did, he still had the second unit armed, ready and completely aware of our presence in a hostage situation he could use in his favour and the director as a human meat shield no less. His ego told him we couldn’t possibly find a way to circumvent several feet of concrete to rain down hell on him and his plans, which was why I suspected he hadn’t trapped the floor above. The second was plain ruthless, with a predatory patience you can’t mistake for anything else, with those kids, they were being groomed from a young age to be monsters, no doubt the older brother would have eaten his little sister alive if it meant preserving his fighting capacity, as unnerving as that might sound. The fact that they allowed us to feed corpses into a trap and watch as their secreted toxins ate them up shows a complete lack of empathy, which has most likely left them emotionally stunted, to say the least, due to their re-programming. And now this”, he said indicating the mechanical exoskeleton of interface technology, a jumble of inactive firing miniature engines, coupled with advanced, practical robotics for the load-bearing limbs as well as the main body which doubled as an armoured suit over the wearer’s body, coupled with acidic projectile launchers.

“In her case, she also had an active defractor field projecting a false illusion of light-based camouflage projecting onto her limbs, main body and surrounding area, you can see lining the limbs along the individual segments so they could hide her approach. The muffling sound-absorbing material you see on the edges of each limb where you can see it capable of bending back on a double-action hinge to allow them to switch between their impaling points and soft-footed pads for moving stealthily with load-bearing capacities that could launch her whilst wearing the suit through the air in open spaces, similar to the legs of spiders move using a combination of the hydraulic pressure of body fluid and muscle flex, in this case substituted through artificial means to a greater extent, proportionate to her size. Their even magnetized so she can climb up walls with more than just happy thoughts”, he said cheerily for the first time since their encounter with the Longlegs, which Clara noticed.

“You know a lot about them...” she said, her voice trailing off as she contemplated the implications of his words. Max nodded, his gaze fixed on the immobilized agent. “Too much, but we all do, so we can work better to complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses whenever we meant to fight together in the field, it’s just a matter of finding the relevant material available to us,” he said. “I’ve noticed no one has yet to ask me what “Hornet’s” or even “Beetles” are like”, he said curious if she would take the bait, as he watched Sarah work, crouching as she moved around the sectioned room ahead of them, seeking out any obvious spots for a potential ambush before she quickly found “her”.

Clara and Walter exchanged glances “What are they like?” Clara asked her voice tentative. “Generally hornets are a fast means of death, but not unstoppable, and certainly not as individuals normally relying on typical ten-man groups and a sergeant for optimum killing efficiency. I’ve heard them being called the ADHD’s of the group from after mission field reports, because of how they have to think so fast on their feet and coordinate so much at once, so often for their survival, it’s like they’re splitting themselves between assault, defence and manoeuvrability all at once for flawless execution that could otherwise mean their death as shock troops. All whilst trying to assess their targets vulnerability and a new tactical stratagem for the quickest form of execution available to them at an ongoing rate”, he said as he watched her dodge the Longlegs limbs in the next room with side strokes of her blade cutting through the metallic cloister of segmented arms. They were all trying to stab her at once weaving in and out in blurring motions in an attempt to impale her body on their talon-tipped edges, hitting only air where she had been heartbeats before, as the Longlegs tried to end the fight as quickly, aggressively as possible before she leapt forwards in what looked like a controlled explosion of forward momentum.

Her body became as light as a leaf as it flipped into a forward roll, tucking her limbs into her body before she braced herself against the main trunk of the Spider’s carapace with them. Taking a two-handed grip on her dagger she slammed the butt of it so hard into the helmeted head of the Spiders helmeted head, both agents could hear it ringing from where they stood beside Max like a tolling iron bell, before she struck her again and again in a quick, successive series of jarring, stunning strikes, as she held on with a free hand to the pilot.

Every limb connected via the spinal interface resisted the pilot’s waning consciousness, even as the bodysuit crashed with it to the ground. Its artificial limbs falling lifelessly to its sides on the floor as it did so, the simplistic approach although not subtle was as surprisingly effective as it was non-lethal. Sarah leapt off its body before it hit the floor loudly, sticking her landing with her usual, unnatural grace mirroring an Olympic gymnast’s own, several feet away from the prone body. The detritus of gutted furniture and computer equipment around her was the result of the Spider’s ineffective attempts to do the same to her, as she smiled to herself with a well-earned sense of satisfaction in her abilities.

“Beetles, on the other hand, are hopeless romantics after a fashion, we want to keep everyone we care about safe, even at the cost of ourselves, which we realize ironically could cause irrevocable harm”, he said sadly, as they watched her cut through each limb in succession in record time. Disabling her acidic launchers mirroring the previous ones, she then dissected her main chest plate before peeling it back and turning the pilot into her side before slowly and carefully, removing each interface bundle lining her second, artificial spine. The previous one had, had a dull-coloured exoskeleton; this one by comparison looked more like a black widow minus the red hourglass marking anywhere that she could spy on its carapace. Its inky black palette covered its entire metallic body reaching down to her spinal implant.

Removing everything and securing the young woman, maybe in her mid to late thirties gave her a bold look at what her future could have held in store for her had she not freed herself alongside Max. It forced her to reflect on what kind of psychological makeup or prerequisites the sleeper agent could have met in her normal life that could have reflected the traits required to have her become a spider class. She knew from her libraries worth of field reports and dossiers of notable Spiders that raw recruits chosen from early childhood to adulthood showed a potential for psychopathy, which was always key to their selection, even if the Spider in question had never exhibited outward signs in their previous life of signs of such a mental illness or disorder.

She wondered not for the first time today, with all the madness going around like a common flu virus, what her kids were up to, and if they were being ferried this very minute to the safe house they’d been promised.

“You wondering how easy the Spider could have been you instead?” Max asked bluntly but not without understanding for her reservations, as he indicated with a gloved hand to the second unconscious longlegs pilot being restrained and prepared for transport by the medical retrieval team.

“We’re not lifeless killing machines you know? And no I do not hate them, only what they are forced to carry out with every fibre of their beings, seeping down into their bones like a second marrow. If I ever doubt that, I remember you, your family, and how I helped you regain something you thought you’d lost when we met me and became a duo. I ... I can only hope we can do the same for them eventually”, he finished. To his ears, it sounded like a lame attempt to convey what he thought he knew she needed to hear, about herself about them. About how they were trying to dig themselves out of this conflict, regardless of how many bodies were being piled on top of them in the process, weighing down their efforts and threatening to help bury them alive in a mass grave of their own doing.

“I know”, she said simply “and knowing by itself hurts, you know?” to which he nodded, even as they watched the lady Longlegs she had fought being carted off. “I know you’d rather be anywhere but here, fighting off what was most likely a lawyer in the previous life before they chose her for the role of Spider, knowing how they recruit”, he said with a small smile Sarah returned before she added “Divorce lawyer, she smells like broken and burned dreams, but not her own”, she added, although they both knew that last bit was just an attempt at humour, as the lady smelled of voided bowels. She had effectively been knocked out so hard her nervous system had gone slightly out of whack with the rest of her, which seeing as she’d been hooked up to an external bodysuit of death, tied to her will, by spinal injectors, it carried salt that her control over her lower intestines was just one of the things that should fail soon after her unconscious state was disabled from her external carapace, trying not to grimace at the emerging smell as the medical team disappeared down the stairwell with her. The pervading odour regardless seeped back into the room, as if consciously trying to infect them with nausea.

“I might just be sick”, Sarah said only half joking as the odour invaded their sense of smell, and added, “Yeah I think she ate before she...” Max handed her the aerosolized anti-acid he knew would do wonders for her stomach muscles contracting all at once now. Already capable of picturing them as they squeezed everything while increasing the pressure before her stomachs “cover” would make to relax and the contents of whatever she’d had for breakfast would soon begin to launch themselves out of her in the form of projectiles. She thankfully took it without question and took a few deep breaths and the effects of the smell washed away, and she felt her stomach calm back down.

“You really do care”, she said with an almost desperate tone before he added “That’s what they keep telling me”, he said despite looking like an indomitable red smear, his humour light as he offered the aerosol anti-acid to nearby who looked like they were about to wretch openly and didn’t know when it would stop. Within a few minutes, everyone was safely inoculated to the scent, as Clara and Walter reported, that a second agent of a similar variant to the first one with a neural spinal implant had been taken into custody with no casualties to the director.

They stepped into the third and final portion of the floor plan, each floor of the Jacob K. Javits Federal Office Building had been outfitted with a large and open floor plan unique to the department’s mindset.

Homeland Security had decided to take advantage of a sectioned-off style, in case they had to compartmentalize against potential threats, which spoke volumes about their mentality, and how it had ironically been used against them. In the third room happily, all they heard was a crash of glass as something large and unseen had hurled itself through one of the wall-height windows and escaped notice entirely. “Alrighty then”, was all Max could say, obviously thankful to be making progress without any further bloodletting, as he slowly marched forward, taking into account the Longleg’s ambush tactics. He and Sarah knew they preferred to avoid an all-out frontal attack unless it was levied heavily in their favour from the start. Spiders in general are ambush predators, not experts in protracted head-on engagements. Luckily the last five floors were filled with only a random assortment of agents who quickly withdrew for the opposite stairway leading up to the next floor. Whether they were sleeper agents in the form of Tapeworms or simply loyal agents forming a tactical withdrawal before any of them had a chance to divulge who they were. “One of the downsides of being a walking pillar of death”, Max said as Sarah added “Yeah, no one wants to play with you after a while, after you’ve smeared what’s left of their friends on your armour. They’re probably all gathering on the uppermost floors, like a scared pack of rats pooling their firepower to shoot down what they perceive are a bunch of snakes coming to raid their den”, she said but not without a hint of sympathy.