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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Sept 16, 2018 1:12:00 GMT -5
INCREASE IN THE NUMBER OF FERALS IN ARGENTINA! EXPERTS SUGGEST BIOTERRORISM.
By Jameela al-Ali & Mishaari Posted 24 November 2160 at 3:00 AM Updated at 1:08 PM
The question as to whether or not the zombie virus is a possibility has always been one that has been unanswered. Due to the advancements of technology and the large steps taken in biological engineering, biochemistry, and modern medicine it's possible. However, up until today the appearance of it was something that was mostly speculation and imagination.
Due to a drastic increase in the number of feral attacks and ferals in Argentina as of late, there are reason to believe that bioterrorism is well and truly alive here and now. Rather than having the decay of human bodies into walking cannibalistic carcasses, there have been sightings and attacks of a different kind of feral along the borders of Argentina These ferals exhibit qualities different than those who turn due to rabid animals changing their genetic makeup.
There are claims that they are rather docile from a distance, appearing like a lost individual swaying back and forth on their feet in a rather unnatural way. Their daemons do not show any qualities of feral daemons, they aren't frothing at the mouth. Rather both the infected and their daemon look contorted, their bodies stand at strange angles and they don't seem aware of what's happening around them unless they are brought into an alert state by touch or a loud noise.
From there on, they scream and wail like banshees and attack any living creature within their vicinity. Those who have been scratched, clawed, or bitten by these 'New Age Ferals' or 'NAF' for short have exhibited signs of going feral as well. Their eyes become glassy and unaware like they're starting to enter some sort of dormant state like a sleeper cell. Many experts have been approached regarding this new virus and many like the leading researcher in body modifications Takahashi Saori and Doctor Shahar Arkour, a researcher at the prestigious Algerian Virology center believe the NAF is a virus introduced by an unknown terrorist unit. [ GRAPHIC IMAGE warning, click to show more ]This might mark the beginning of an age of advanced chemical warfare and bioterrorism. As of yet, no nation has responded to these threats and... READ MORE "Turn that damn thing off. I need to think," it didn't take a genius to figure out Prime Minister Alexa Qin was displeased with the fact that the news had somehow gotten into the hands of the news reporters. If anything, it just informed her that the PETO had an intel leak that had to be plugged in before any other crucial news that could cause mass panic was exposed. Two of the British Prime Minister's bodyguards attempted to dive for the remote, but it was General Ivanov, representative of Russia that got to it first. With a click, the dull background noise that the various news anchors came to a halt and an uncomfortable silence fell upon the room. Her weary eyes traveled across the room, acknowledging each and every other member of the Pro Enhancements Treaty Organization that had made the journey here.
As the current Secretary-General of the PETO spoke, all eyes fell on her due to the respect she garnered and the attention she commanded. This was a discussion none of them wanted to have, but here they were. Ever since the war between Purists and Futurists had quelled down into just a violent debate, there was a division that was felt throughout the entire world. Those were the building blocks of what was considered an advanced first world nation and what was an infantile third world nation.
First world nations such as America, England, Russia, Germany, China, Japan, France, Algeria, Canada, Afghanistan, Niger, and Egypt and other powerhouses were the leaders of body modification, genetic enhancements, and progressive research attempting to push the limits of the human body and mind to new heights. Then, there were the purists. It surprised the world when China had turned out to be pro body modification, but the surprise when Korea had turned out to be the leader of Purist movements alongside many other well known nations such as Italy, Ukraine, Grace, Sweden, Algeria, and Brazil. The political climate had changed completely as long time allies became uneasy enemies in the blink of an eye.
Argentina was one of those third world nations concerned with preserving humans in a more "natural" state. It would be easy to say that one of the PETO nations had orchestrated the attack. General Ivanov would not be surprised if that was the case. She had seen her share of government orchestrated terrorist attacks brushed off as 'extremist' operations from operatives who were disavowed to avoid new wars from springing up.
That wasn't the problem at hand though. None of them were going to mention that until their own intelligence agencies brought up something more concrete that could give political leverage. "Well," Qin seemed to turn to her almost immediately, "I think sending an elite unit of the Biologically Enhanced Human Intelligence Agency into Argentina to locate the source of the virus and scavenge any remaining information of it for our scientists to find a way to reverse engineer a cure would be the logical step."
Qin, who had always been intimidated by her military experience and strategical prowess, sneered at her suggestion briefly before her expression softened into something more professional. "That's an excellent idea, General Ivanov." And immediately there was a general consensus, eager to agree with the secretary general if it mean that next time they might gain her support in turn. It sickened Ivanov. "Mr. Hasugian, is it possible for you to get Director Antonov and Deputy Director Adair on the line at this given moment?"
It was no surprise that Hasugian, Indonesia's representative was the one Qin centered out of all the different representatives who were in contact with the independent UN sanctioned organization. He seemed to be chummy with them in a way that always allowed him to have some sort of leverage in any conversation with an abundance of intelligence that other representatives lacked. Hasugian seemed to hesitate, running a hand through his oily dark brown hair before nodding briskly. "I'm sure it'll be no problem."
Almost immediately, one of the assistants sitting in on the meeting moved the holographic projector into place as Hasugian set up the call between the PETO and the BEHIA. It didn't take very long for Antonov and his Deputy Director to respond, the projector immediately showcasing their holograms across the empty floor space. Antonov looked rather pissed that they had taken this long to get into contact with the BEHIA given that they would need sanction for ops from either PETO or the UN before they were allowed into Argentina - even if it was to stop the spread of a bioterrorist virus that would cause harm to any nation it managed to slip into. Antonov was settled upon his table, features gruff and assessing as ever as he lit a cigar, his bear daemon equally miffed. "Took you long enough," he muttered even as Qin artfully ignored his comment and relayed her suggest to the BEHIA Director who nodded.
Immediately, a list of agents were projected on the screen, the files on them filled with endless amounts of information that none of the many delegates bothered to read due to the speed it was flitting by. The important information remained stationary as they assessed Antonov and Adair's choices of operatives. There were nine of them in total and after a brief discussion, the BEHIA was a go for Operation Peregrinus. Without wasting much time, the call was ended and the meeting was adjourned.
General Ivanov moved to grab her jacket as she stood up, the agent files still relaying in her mind. Nine individuals. The entire status quo relied on nine individuals succeeding. If she had been in Director Antonov's shoes, she would have sent a squad. A unit of at least twelve to sixteen individuals, more if possible. She didn't like the odds, but the BEHIA was known for their success stories. Without any prompting, Misha trotted out after her.
GHOST Full Name: Alphonse Fournier Daemon: Black Panther, Napoleon Occupation: Intelligence Operative Status: Alive Current Location: Paris, France Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 97%
ORION Full Name: Konstantin Bazarov Daemon:Snowy Owl, Artemis Occupation: Sniper & Bodyguard Status: Alive Current Location: Saint Petersburg, Russia Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 93%
VIRGIL Full Name: Dorji Chime Daemon: Mossy Leaf-Tailed Gecko, Druk Occupation: Technician & Biomechanical Engineer Status: Alive Current Location: Manchester, England Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 93%
CIPHER Full Name: Esther Brigham Daemon: Butterscotch Ferret, Moe Occupation: Codebreaker Status: Alive Current Location: Canberra, Australia Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 96%
AFANASY Full Name: Vitali Orlov Daemon: African Crowned Eagle, Tikhon Occupation: Bounty Hunter & Terrain Specialist Status: Alive Current Location: Moscow, Russia Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 95%
ASRA Full Name: Ishaan Karim Daemon: Black Widow Ball Python, Lochan Occupation: Doctor & Biologist Status: Alive Current Location: Kolkata, India Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 94%
ARES Full Name: Sylvain Desmarais Daemon: Grizzly Bear, Victor Occupation: Marine & Vehicle Specialist Status: Alive Current Location: Marsielle, France Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 94%
GAMBIT Full Name: Nieves Averesch Daemon: Crow, Bliare Occupation: Investigator & Strategist Status: Alive Current Location: Amsterdam, Netherlands Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 95%
VECTOR Full Name: Min Ryung Daemon: Red Fox, Hyuk Occupation: Mercenary & Mechanic Status: Alive Current Location: Daegu, Korea Mission: Operation Peregrinus Track Record: 96%
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Sept 16, 2018 2:49:29 GMT -5
Ghost Operative Name: Alphonse Fournier Daemon: Black Panther, Napoleon Status: Alive - Location: Paris, France - Mission: n/a
Things were as peaceful as could be in Paris. The Purist revolutions that had been more prominent in his youth and during the times of war were near nonexistent and it was quiet, the chill breeze not cold enough to warn of snowfall or demand heavier clothes, but enough to allow longer coats. November was a good month, it was the prerequisite to his favorite season. Autumn was the compromise for him and Seraphin. It wasn't bitingly cold like winter and the red and oranges of autumn trees were beautiful when illuminated by the sun. It made for such picturesque moments as they made their way down the streets of Paris.
He was aware, however, that things were also far too quiet. The information about the growing number of Ferals in Argentina was common knowledge among intelligence circles and it was no shock that the BEHIA had also been informed of the situation. The only thing they were lacking before taking action was official sanction from one of the big players like the PETO or UN so in case things went to hell, responsibility could be placed on somebody else's shoulders. It was the way political environments worked. Nobody wanted a bad reputation and as a result, nobody dared to take any sort of risk that could bring about bad PR. Any organization, agency, or national government with a nasty reputation to their name wasn't anybody's first choice.
As much as Alphonse was coming to enjoy his time off - and it had been quite some time since he'd had a breather - he was wary. Something told him that this job would somehow end up in his hands even though he had time and time again professed to Hugo that he was contemplating retirement in a few years time to settle down and live a quieter life with Seraphin so that she didn't have to spend every day he was gone in worry. And this?
This was a clusterf*ck.
This was the kind of job people killed for and the kind of job that had mortality rates that kept smarter and more experienced agents away. Which was why he was hoping that Hugo wasn't contemplating calling his number, especially since he'd barely been off duty for two weeks time. A frown crossed his features as a cornershop selling high end televisions mentioned the very source of his concerns. The word Argentina was dropped so casually, he couldn't help but come to a stop tugging Seraphin to a halt with him. He could feel her grip tighten around his arm as she utilized him as a means to regain her balance.
She turned to him, green eyes searching for some sort of response even as he turned his head around towards the news channel on the tv. "Al?" Her voice was gentle and inquisitive as she followed him back. "Is something wrong?"
Plastered across the multiple screens were images of humans and their daemons in grotesque states. Some where mauled to death, others' were hardly recognizable due to the injuries they had received and he wasn't even the first one to come to a stop to take in the news. There was a crowd of people in front of him, clearly concerned. He could feel it in the air. The panic.
It was one of the strongest factors in psychological warfare and it was spreading even quicker than the virus depicted on the screen. Though the images were graphic and nauseous for most, he didn't tear his eyes away. There was no rhyme or reason with the strikes. No thought put into it. He could spot a very distinctively canine looking bite. He was more concerned as to why the source of that attack didn't go for the jugular. Ferals aimed to kill like most wild animals would - aiming for vulnerable targets and weak spots. The target array that he was noticing had no rhyme or reason to it.
Elderly, adolescent, and individuals in their prime were all attacked. Those who were physically capable and those that weren't were all fair game. Those with prey-species daemons and those with predator-species daemon were targets in near even ratios. The ones that died died due to bloodloss or shock. He swallowed thickly as he tore his eyes away from the multiple screens. How in the world did this information get into the hands of news anchors? Things were steadily getting worse.
Finally turning to look at Seraphin, he noted how concerned she was. She knew just as well as he did the worst things got the more likely he was going to be sent out again. Her grip on his arm was tight to the point where it would have hurt had his arm not been made of titanium. She was terrified. Smiling at her he just shook his head and spoke quietly, "I think I'm due for the field soon."
"Antonov promised," Seraphin argued, pointing out that Hugo had said that the missions would become less and less and eventually Alphonse would become a consultant rather than a field agent. Then he would be free for retirement and if he wanted an odd consulting job from time to time, then the BEHIA would offer it to him without much question due to his expertise and devotion to the organization. Though both he and Alphonse had taken all those words as complete and utter bullshit. Seraphin had to but she'd still use it against Hugo at every given moment because she wanted him here and more importantly safe.
"I know," he said quietly, moving his other arm to rest his hand over hers. She seemed to relax at the human touch, her grip on his arm lessening. She knew as well as he did it wasn't his fault and neither of them were capable of stopping this from happening. "But," he smiled at her, "We still have quite a few days to ourselves before the UN or PETO actually take action so..."
She smiled, understanding exactly what he was saying, "We have a date tonight."
He leaned down to kiss the top of her head, "That's right, Ma Reine. It's just us for now and whatever happens next happens." And for him, that was enough. For now, he would take the quiet while it lasted. He had known long ago that he would never be able to live a peaceful life without constantly looking over his shoulder.
At least, like this, he knew when the silence would be replaced with chaos and conflict. At least he could be prepared and he could cherish what time he did have. It was nice too. Four days without any problems, just him and Seraphin spending their times cheerfully without taking into consideration what was to come. It was the least the both of them could do in case he didn't come back. But neither of them mentioned that. And he wouldn't accept it either. Until he was dead and dying, he was coming back one way or another.
On the 30th, the phone chip in his hand buzzed. The sensation was familiar but unwelcomed nonetheless and he placed the palm of his hand on a flat surface, the projection of Hugo's grim face greeting him.Alphonse wasn't surprised. "And here I thought more time between jobs meant more time instead of less time," he said as a means of greeting though there was no bite behind the words.
"I would've chose somebody else, honestly Al," but the contract still has five years so you know what that means- "but there's nobody better suited for this job than you and the team Adair and I picked out."
"But?" He prompted, raising an eyebrow.
Hugo smiled but it was bitter and tasteless, a mockery of a smile really. He didn't really seem that happy so Alphonse supposed there was no love lost between them. "But the two that we offered to a rogue operations unit - who were our best intelligence operatives after you - ended up being caught and killed. I truly would love to send anybody else since your contract is nearly over and I wouldn't want anything unfortunate happening to you. You've been our top standing operative and the world's top standing operative for such a long time, I'd really like for you to retire in peace once your contract is up"
Hugo seemed earnest and honest enough that Alphonse could only sigh in defeat.
There just wasn't a situation in which he could win. Hugo was right, as far as the intelligence business went he was among the leading operatives and this job was like handling a landmine. One wrong move and it would go off. And the BEHIA and their acquaintances had already stepped on, making the job that much harder.
"Right," he drawled lazily, leaning against his kitchen countertop. "But how did they center your men out?"
The BEHIA couldn't afford to let news of their failure get out much less their involvement in it. But if it did, then the overall success would still save their face. He knew it as well as Hugo though neither mentioned it. They were both more interested in figuring out the details before Alphonse found himself in a hotzone with other BEHIA operatives. "Exactly. This organization, who's origins are still as of now unknown, have taken over entire airports. They don't care about metal detectors, they're running blood tests to see if people are enhanced biologically. They caught two of our operatives from the super soldier experiment and executed them. They're completely off radar and their vital monitors are dead."
He nodded, holding his silence. They wanted an alternative entrance into the hotzone under a low profile.
"Your task is simple." Sometimes, Alphonse wondered if Hugo was aware of the definition of the words he utilized. "I want you to infiltrate their base of operations in Argentina. Find the origins of the virus, bring that information back to the KGB base in Peru. From there, you will hunt down the organization behind the virus and take them out. You're the team's leader as the infiltration expert."
"Your unit consists of a combat medic, a former black-ops operative who specializes in tracking down cold trails, a technological expert, a cipher, and a sniper. It's a six man unit so it should be easy for you to go under the radar." Alphonse didn't bother to point out that Hugo's two man team certainly didn't prove his point. And Hugo sounded confident all things considered. Alphonse could barely keep himself from sighing heavily.
"And remember," Hugo's grin was reminiscent of his daemon, "Where you'll be going.... There are no laws. You're due for the Peru base in three days. Arrive there promptly. I'll send you your team details. Your team has only been given the necessary information about you as well as the other members."
He nodded quietly as he pulled up the files of the other individuals he would be working with, looking carefully through their achievements and files. "Alright then."
"Godspeed, Alphonse."
He didn't grace that statement with a response, instead holding his tongue as Hugo ended the call. He didn't like it. He didn't like the situation but it was what it was. Next to him, he could feel the tension in his and Napoleon's bond as the black cat stared at him. He had been listening intently, making snide mental commentary that would have been distracting had it not been for the subject matter and he frowned as he glanced over at Napoleon who seemed to bristle under his scrutiny. "You know we could.... just not show up."
"No we can't," he shot back and Napoleon was quiet for once. It seemed like he agreed with Alphonse in one thing and it was the nature of this job. Pushing against the countertop, he headed outside to the balcony, Napoleon close behind him.
This was one of those types of jobs that were big breaks. They were name building missions. They were the kinds of jobs that new kids out of their vocational schools would want in on in order to make themselves a title in their line of work. These kind of jobs were the jobs that assassins took to get large prospective customers. These were the types that spies vied for in order to hit the top charts. These were the kind of missions where numerous people died for a cause they didn't believe in.
Pulling out a cigarette, he lit it as he leaned over the balcony lazily looking out at the streets beneath him. He needed some time to think. He sorted through the new information cautiously. He was going to be leading this mission. He was not a stranger to leading missions. He had taken control of a military operation back in Europe upon invading Iran to help a resistance win out against a Purist government. He had led his fair number of men into the jaws of death and back out.
This was the same, but still it didn't bode right with him. Slowly, he exhaled the smoke. Every death would be on him. Every failure would be on him. And this was the kind of job that brought death with it. There was no doubting it. There was bound to be death written all over this mission. There was going to be some people who didn't deserve to die, and they would die all the same. And he would be responsible for it. Those thoughts would haunt him for days to come but neither he nor Napoleon commented on it again as they went back inside once the cigarette had burnt down into a stub. The last days with Seraphin were peaceful and Alphonse knew that it would be the last few days of honest silence for quite awhile.
The ride to Peru was nice at least. The scenic landscape beneath him and his pilot as the private BEHIA plane flew directly towards the KGB base was something that was relaxing. He and Napoleon had spent the time looking out the window at the view and discussing the mission before Napoleon had decided to sleep until they landed. He couldn't blame Napoleon and eventually they both fell asleep during the fifteen hour plane ride. When the plane landed, the jostle of it was enough to wake him up and he grabbed his suitcase and headed out into the populated landing strip of the KGB base. There were curious gazes, but none obvious as the agents kept their heads down and remained in their own private conversations.
He knew that Helen had been tasked with sending out the more precise directives to him and the other operatives which meant that they all knew where they were due for. Heading inside to find Antov Meeting Room which would be free of cameras and bugs, he found that he had arrived early. Though it wasn't much of a surprise considering he had left a few hours early in order to set things up and map out the terrain of the base in the case things gone wrong which was always a possibility in this line of duty.
Eventually, one by one they started showing up and when they all arrived he smiled at them. "Hello, it's a pleasure to meet all of you. I'm Alphonse Fournier, callsign Ghost. I'll be leading this op. I trust you've all been brought up to speed as to the details of the mission and your role on this team?"
The large man on his left who he easily identified as Vitali Orlov - it was hard not to notice a man that was 206 cm tall - shifted unhappily but said nothing. Instead, it was the smaller man on his right - Dorji Chime - that actually responded to him. "Yeah well, Fournier? Alphonse? I'm not sure what to call you, just stick to Virgil with me. So I do know what we're bound to do but honestly I've got a few questions. What the hell is the plan? So you get us into Argentina all nice and safe and nice. Everybody's happy. How the hell will we find the origins of the virus. More importantly, how will we avoid getting infected?"
"And once that's all out, going into that place means we'll be entering enemy territory which means they'll shoot us. I don't think they'll just be conveniently sitting in a base that I can hack the floor plans of either but," he grinned in a way that was vicious and feral, "they never do make these things easy do they?"
He didn't elaborate on who 'they' was, though Alphonse was certain that everybody in the room knew clearly.
Orlov finally spoke up, looking at Dorji Chime with an expression that could only be described as annoyance, "Well we track them down and we kill them. That's all there is to it."
Not a man for many words then. Alphonse glanced over the team. They looked promising but... It was one thing for a team to look promising on paper and another thing for them to be actually field tested. He supposed time would tell. Napoleon, next to him, however, didn't seem to share the same sentiment as he sigh dramatically and leaned his head into Al's arm. "We're doomed."
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Post by The Blue Adept on Sept 24, 2018 1:22:17 GMT -5
Cipher Operative Name: Esther Brigham Daemon: Butterscotch Ferret, Moe Status: Alive - Location: Canberra, Australia - Mission: n/a
Esther didn't like to admit that he had grown complacent- he preferred to think he was simply content, trying to find a modicum between peace and chaos that often ruled his life in equal measure. The peaceful streak had been dangerously long, and as Esther knew better than most, it often meant that bad times were coming.
BEHIA kept him on a painfully short leash, even he was surprised that he'd had half a moment to himself. Most of his weeks were spent interpreting signals from foreign powers, drafting and decoding and consuming a month's worth of coffee in an unhealthily short amount of time. Often times he was rueful of the reputation he'd built for himself. Oh what a shame it was to be good at his job. As proud as he was, he was more annoyed when the stress reached it's breaking point.
As much as they needed him though, they had gone oddly quiet, in the way that they sometimes did when they were hiding something. BEHIA only told him what he needed to know, and the thought that something out there escaped his eye unsettled him. Something bad enough that it had to simmer before it reached his ears. He knew that to never be a good sign. He did his best not to let him bother him, and was unfortunately piss poor at doing so.
It didn't help that many of his contacts had started to go silent, leaving not even a trace of what might've happened to them behind. Hiatuses weren't unusual, just not generally unprompted. It left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach each time he tuned into their frequencies and found nothing but static for days on end. Esther knew better than to immediately link the two events together, and yet something in the back of his head was just screaming at him that the whole thing felt so very off. For the first time in a long tie, he felt cut off from the world.
He was more than grateful when his phone rang to take his mind off of things. He snatched the device from his desk as he headed out to the front porch for a breather, answering the call and leaning over the railing with a gratuitous sigh. The hologram flickered to life before him, but was strangely blank, the image of a table and a living room before him but no sign of a person. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as if he'd be able to find someone from a better angle.
"Hello?" he called out in confusion. Had he accidentally answered some spam call? The realization that he hadn't checked the caller ID hit him. Oops.
"Hold on-"
Ah, it was the voice of his ex-wife. Renee was never capable of making a normal phone call, he really should've known it was her. Eventually her form crossed into view as she picked up her phone to tote along with whatever she was up to. He waited- it wasn't like he had anything better to do. Though separated, they were still quite close friends, and talked when they got the spare chance. He supposed the last time they spoke was when he was still busy.
"Sorry," her voice came through once more, "I'm helping Rose move all her crap."
"Ah, moving into the new place already?" He was grinning through his words. "Send me pictures! And Tell her I said hello."
"I'll put her on later, no idea where she's disappeared to. So, how have things been for you? They still keeping you busy?"
Esther smothered a laugh. "Believe it or not, I'm free right now. It's been quiet for a little while. Can't say I'm relaxed, but I'm certainly trying," he hummed in response, gazing over at the view around him. The streets were quite rowdy today, more cheerful than annoying in nature. Perhaps it was simply because he was awake at a reasonable hour, up in time to see actual daylight. It was quite nice. Renee seemed amused, almost in disbelief. He could hear her little scoff of surprise. "Really! Well, you better take advantage of it then. Catch up on your sleep, idiot," she tsked. He could picture her disapproving look now, even as his only view was of the floor. "Maybe you'll have time to come visit."
Those words made him feel a little uneasy. Once more the thought of the fleetingness of this peace crossed his mind- it was just how his life experience had taught him, as unfortunately nihilistic as it was. Happiness was not something he often had in fistfulls. Sucking in a breath, he hesitated on his own words. "I hope so."
"Hey-!"
Another voice cut through the line. It was Rose- her forceful tone was not one he could easily forget. The scene changed again as the phone was retrieved from the ground and changed hands. His daughter's face came into view, smiling at him with an energetic thrill. She was clearly happy to be moving. "She always calls you when I'm not around, seems a little suspicious to me," she said, tone a hushed whisper, a teasing jab at her mother.
Esther grinned right back. The stress and exhaustion seem to lift, if even for a moment. "Yeah, we're talking about you behind your back."
Rose's mouth gaped in offense. "You wouldn't-"
"I already have."
The two of them shared a laugh. He could hear the sound of more shuffling in the background and a few voices. Seemed they'd gotten the tv hooked up. Rose walked into what was the bare-bones of a living room, craning her head as if looking at something in the background. The voices got clearer as she approached. "God, all the news channels haven't been able to shut up about Argentina. Mom thinks it's bullsh*t frankly, and I agree."
"What's going on with Argentina?" The uneasy feeling in his stomach only grew worse. Rose frowned.
"You haven't seen? I thought you'd be the first to know. Here," she turned the phone to face the television as the news station droned on. The image was out of focus just a moment before the image came into full view. Esther's blood ran cold at the sight of it, the news anchor's voice blaring loudly through the speakers.
A cocktail of emotions crashed through his brain. Shock and fear, making his heart thud in his chest. Then anger, a powerful annoyance that made him clench his fist. He knew BEHIA kept him in the dark about things he didn't need to know, but this? This should've have been something he had to learn about on the damn television.
This only meant that it was going to catch up to him really quick if this kind of information was in the hands of the public. Rose's face came back into view as she turned the phone, letting out a sigh and shaking her head. "Pretty crazy, right? Uh- wait. I don't like that look on your face. This is exaggeration, isn't it?......Dad?"
Esther's voice caught in his throat. All he could do was let out a swear. His phone vibrated in his hand and he glanced down at the caller ID. Seemed like the peaceful times had met their bitter end. Really, he wasn't surprised.
"Rose, I'm going to have to call you back."
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Esther tried hard to enjoy the trip to Peru, he really did, but it hadn't worked at all. His nerves were wound dead-tight, and had been since BEHIA had broke the news to him, and briefed him on his mission. The satisfaction of finally knowing did little to ease the blow of his future involvement- it had been quite some time since he'd been out in the field, and never quite under such deadly circumstances. The pressure built every second he spent thinking about just what they were going to be doing.
An infiltration job? Well that was exciting at the very least, something he was confident in, just not with such high stakes. It wouldn't be such a problem if he wasn't being teamed up with a group of essential strangers- working together was so painfully necessary to get such a delicate operation right, and he was nothing if not thorough.
He only worried how much of his skills had gone rusty over the years. Chewing on his bottom lip, he spent the hours going over the information again and a again, plans formed and scrapped and revised and fixed all in quick succession in his head. He wanted to go in at least semi-prepared. Moe did little to relieve his stress, but kept himself closely nestled in the cuff of his sleeve, offering his terrible commentary as he saw fit. It was never very helpful.
When he finally arrived, Esther probably spent a moment too long in the bathroom trying to pull himself together, and eventually made his way to the meeting room, hands bunched up in his coat in an attempt to hide his anxiety. He was silently cursing himself for spending so much time working all cramped up in his place that the nuances of human interaction had become not only lost on him, but terrifying.
Taking his seat, he waited patiently for the rest of them to gather, giving out silent appraisal of everyone in the room. Names he knew, with no faces to match to them, so he sort of just mixed and matched information trying to figure out who was who. It wasn't going well- they all just looked strong and capable of shooting people dead, some more so than others.
God, half of them were so unfairly tall. Esther was dwarfed just sitting near the huge man beside him. He knew who he'd hide behind if it came down to it.Moe shrank back in his sleeve, crawling up to his neck. "Giants, the lot of them."
Esther couldn't bring himself to disagree. He sat patiently, digging his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He was more than relieved when the person in charge arrived- a face he actually recognized. Esther couldn't quite say he'd worked with Alphonse Fournier before, though sort of had, in a roundabout way. He'd played support on a countless amount of operations that had involved him, and the only time he'd ever met him in person he hadn't even had the chance to say hello.
It was rather strange to be more familiar with a person than they were of you. He simply held his tongue and let the others speak first, grateful at least someone was bothering with an introduction. He glanced between those that spoke, tapping his foot in quiet agitation.
"Please, none of you are going to get infected," someone spoke, and Esther was able to deduce the voice to belong to Ishaan Karim, as Virgil graciously narrowed it down. The man sat with his arms crossed, head tilted. "Truthfully I think getting shot should certainly be the more important of your problems."
Another spoke- Esther was unclear on who. His voice was had a curious lilt to it, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I think what he really means is we shoot first."
As much as Esther had questions of his own, he had to admit it was quite worrisome to have all these uncertainties spouted all at once. He'd had a long time to think on the way over, and in a strange way he now felt the most prepared out of anyone in the room. The nervous clench of his fists subsided as he sucked in a silent breath and offered an easy grin, trying to be both confident and reassuring, none of which he was particularly good at in conversation. "Let's take it one step at a time, yeah? As long as you're careful you'll be right as rain."
He kept his light posture even as he straightened in his seat. "Besides, I've got more than a few ideas."
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Post by LโEฬแดสแดษดษขแดส on Sept 24, 2018 2:41:24 GMT -5
Afanasy Operative Name: Vitali Orlov Daemon: African Crowned Eagle, Tikhon Status: Alive - Location: Moscow, Russia - Mission: n/a
Ever since the nasty incident in 2142, nobody contacted him. He had gone off the grid for most, though he knew there was a certain organization that kept a watchful eye on him. He didn't ever talked to them and they never talked to him. Their drones flew in his 500 acres of land, clearly interested in seeing how he came and went. But the agents they sent that either never came back or returned shaken had been such a ridiculous number that it had entered the double digits. And they had stopped trying to talk to him to pull him back into the game. There was no way he was going back into the field for another organization after what happened on the border of Belarus.
Instead, he played a different game nowadays. One that didn't involve political agendas and backstabbing scoundrels that couldn't be killed without consequences. He'd been tracking game since he was a boy, only nowadays the game were humans. They were smarter, they were deadlier, and alongside their daemons they were much more challenging targets than an aging elk.
It came naturally to him and the cold couldn't bother him the way it did the BEHIA agents who came bundled in too many layers to be quick on their feet and capable with their guns. They always claimed they came in peace and when the negotiations failed, then came the weapons and the blood on his walls that took too much effort to clean up. It would've been nice if they talked outside instead so he didn't have to the cleaning. The snow would cover up the red by itself and when spring came it would melt away and not look like some horrendous painting disaster.
He lived in a place outside of the realms of 'modern' society even though he sported a mechanical rib cage and synthetic heart. He was, first and foremost, a son of Mongolia and then a child of Russia. He had already paid his dues to the land he lived on and had walked away missing a little more than just a real, tangible heart. There were things they didn't tell him when they prepared him for war. The bootcamps couldn't quite convey the horrors properly, the way enemies with their bodies split in half would grab at his legs in a silent plea that he would be their faceless savior. The one to pick them up to safety or pull the trigger and end their misery.
Well, he sure saw.
That was why he was content living on his land, alone with the wolf pack and the strange visitors like Fedor the bear and Esfir who would always find her way onto his bed and force him onto the floor. They were simple minded. And if one day he agitated them and died, well he would die knowing it was something he did.
It changed though, five years ago when he decided to go back against his own promise to himself to stay out of the game. There was a path they wanted to set him down and at first he had no interest. And then things got interesting.
There were new leads to the '2146 Slaughter at Belarus" and the BEHIA was the one with all the information. Except it came with strings attached. A lot of strings. So many, he probably got tangled in it at one point and wondered if there was any way out. They never sent agents anymore though. They didn't even try to force him to get a phone or become involved with technology the way city folks were. They kept one single drone on his land to monitor in case he never returned so they would turn on the tracker in his neck and make sure he wasn't cutting and running. It was their insurance policy for him being spoon fed what he wanted to learn.
If it wasn't for the information, Vitali would have dug the chip out himself with a hunting knife.
But the leads kept circling around and there were no real definitive answers. Though there were traces that Nikita was working for an outside agency when he and his small band of brothers turned on the team, there was no idea who was feeding the money into their accounts. It was all from shell accounts set up by someone powerful and influential. And there were dead ends after dead ends, but every time there was a lead they would set him on it as long as when they needed him he would do what they wanted.
And the thing was they didn't give a damn if the jobs were hard or if it meant that he had to work with people even after he had killed so many of their agents. But on the field, they were right about one thing. He didn't risk lives on the field. They were there to keep him alive as much as he was there to keep their sorry ass out of trouble.
Drinking from his cup of coffee, he looked up at Tikhon who was staring back at him. The drone outside had been moving more erratically than usual and that meant that headquarters was probably debating a mission. It didn't scan the acres of land like usual and instead hovered around the house. It had been days now and he was waiting for the bombshell. Tikhon seemed to agree as he opened his beak making a snapping motion before speaking, "They're taking their time. I want to know what they want and if they don't want anything I think the Shanghai job is more interesting than that Ukraine offer."
"You think so?" He said as he picked up the letters sent in by his prospective clients. They all wanted a hired hand who was both lethal and successful.
"I know so," Tikhon tutted, puffing out his chest as he hopped onto Vitali's arm to glance down at the penned letters, "One man means he knows he's dangerous and capable. An organization means that there's more to it then we know, but also it means we're just dealing with the grunts without getting the entire story. A challenge is better than being used by somebody again." The eagle tilted his head, sharp eyes staring at the drone outside. Well, Tikhon was right about that.
Placing the letters down, he nodded. "Well, if they don't make up their mind tonight we leave," he said, words final. But the moment he stood up, the drone bursted into his house through the open front door, startling Volya who had been sleeping on the doormat. The wolf growled in annoyance, placing his head back down as the drone fluttered in front of Vitali who raised an eyebrow and sat back down. From it, a projection appeared in his living space and he eyed the woman cautiously. She was supposedly someone powerful in BEHIA and he'd never dealt with her before. She had vicious features and was someone who his mother would definitely caution him not to trust. Not that he did. He didn't trust her as far as he could throw her.
Well. That was a bad thought since he was pretty damn sure he could throw her pretty far. He didn't trust her. Plain and simple. She seemed to meet his gaze without backing down however, smiling slightly at him. He didn't like that smile.
"Lead or mission?" He asked, not leaving any room for nonsense.
She just shrugged, "Both." And with that, information was displayed on his screen and it was things he hadn't seen in his little plot of land. Things that were effecting society and if nothing was done it would come here too. He could see why the BEHIA wanted it solved but he was more intrigued as to how it involved Nikita and Belarus. The individuals listed had high success rates and given that there was a CO for this op, it meant it was some big game.
He frowned at her and reached over to the drone to figure out where the end call button was, "Fine." Before he found it, the projection cut itself off leaving him with what little information about his teammates that the BEHIA was willing to share. He didn't spend more than a few minutes looking over it before realizing they honestly wanted him out of here in a day. Ridiculous. Snorting in annoyance, he headed inside to dust off his combat suit and wait for pick up.
It came surprisingly quickly. He supposed they would have sent it either way regardless of his answer. If they had to muscled him into the plane, they probably would have tried. With his rifle slung over his shoulder and the door locked and the wolves out, he glanced back at his house before stepping in the heli. The pilot was one he had seen time and time before.
He knew better than to make useless conversation with Vitali who would not respond. He just knew one thing. If Nikita had been involved with whoever the hell was spreading a virus that turned people feral, he wouldn't be surprised. But if it was truly the truth and nothing but the truth he didn't care what he would have to do to make sure they met the same fate Karik did. The wedding had been scheduled down the road too, the day after they resigned from the spetsnaz following Belarus. Instead, they never made it back and they had ended everything with an argument. He clenched his fist, the crack of his knuckles audible enough for Tikhon to bump his head into his arm.
That was enough. When the plane landed, he found that everybody else had arrived ahead of him but they were quiet. He hoped it would stay that way once they were done with the details. The man, the CO who would be leading the ops, was the first to speak up. It wasn't a surprise and he was straight to the point and succinct regarding the mission. He was smaller than Vitali but then again, who wasn't? He tilted his head in interest as he looked at all of them and turned back to Alphonse. The cat was an interesting daemon for a CO.
He'd seen guys in the spetsnaz with daemons who were curious, but the COs always seemed to have vicious creatures. It didn't have to be big, but they were vicious. Like a black mamba or a ferret. Nothing so... domesticated. It intrigued Vitali though he didn't say a damn thing as he watched to see who would follow up. And just like that, the quiet spell was broken. There was nothing but noise after that and he couldn't help but frown.
So he put his two cents into the conversation just to be followed up by another round of voices. Well, so far he knew Alphonse was... alright. Virgil was.... too talkative. And the rest were decent. At least they weren't in the too talkative side at the moment.
However, when the smallest one of the lot said he had an idea, Vitali couldn't help but turn his attention to him. It seemed like everyone else did too if not after Virgil leaned onto the table, eyes twinkling with a knowing look Vitali couldn't quite place. It was rather unnerving to some degree since it didn't seem to fit on someone as mouthy as Virgil. "Well if we take it one step at a time, that gives us a lot of room to mess up," he said and though he wasn't jumpy Vitali was starting to think that Virgil had never seen the field before.
He must've been a city dweller who was more used to dealing with jobs that involved breaking laws discreetly and getting rid of problems before they became problems. And not with shutting down problems when they were thriving. Vitali sure as hell hoped the other man knew how to fire a gun at the very least.
"I want to hear the ideas," he said before Virgil could continue. It was probably rude to cut off Alphonse from even speaking, but their CO seemed content with allowing them to interact and watch. He had very watchful eyes, similar to Tikhon. Eyes that saw things that most didn't. Like there was something he saw that they didn't. That or he was appraising his chances of survival with the lot he was given. Well, if his case was anything like Vitali's, he probably didn't want to be here. Nobody wanted to go into a hot zone without a reason. And Vitali had one.
"Worry is the root of most problems on the field," and god. There were three people he liked so far. The one who mentioned shooting. The one who mentioned having plans. And the CO. At least he wasn't going to take the complaints and ignore it. "We're going to be infiltrating through the wilderness, there are no checkpoints to pass and no guards. From there on, locating the origins of the virus should be easy." Since they would be following the trail of the infected. It made enough sense. "But yes, I agree with-" He locked eyes with Vitali briefly and Vitali wondered what he was contemplating, "Orlov. I'd love to hear your ideas."
Hm. He had a distinctly military feel to him but something was off. He didn't follow the same strict procedures which implied he had served before but he specialized in something else. Vitali couldn't put his finger on any of these people. They weren't soldiers. He knew that much. And that interested him. Why such a specialized unit?
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