General Art Greater Good, Greater Game

[Myriadviper42]

Author's note: One of my biggest regrets about The Dreamscape was that I felt some of the protagonists were underdeveloped. Henry and Lia in particular didn't have much character, and Reinhart more served as a viewpoint into the world than a character. There was little to no conflict between the team. I am hoping to rectify that with this story, and I have noted that it does seem to be following a similar pattern. Person becomes in contact with organization, then is attacked and recruited by a secretive organization to fight the former one. You know. I've decided that the rest of the protagonists will have a "role" of sorts. Adamaris the Team Dad of sorts, always looking out for everyone else. Daren's a bit of a rogue, impulsive and rash but ultimately good-hearted. Madeline is extremely nervous but will eventually gain confidence. So, cheerio, enjoy.

Also, this would be a good time to note that I have planned this out as a trilogy.

Chapter 6

Daren and Adamaris lead me down the halls. They shook me out of bed at 7:00 in the morning, telling me that it was time to start training. Madeline was already up and running at the time, and was gone before I even finished my decidedly small breakfast. I'm wondering what training's going to be like. I'm going to have to fire a gun. I've used one before in self-defense, but I've never actually...killed someone before. I'm going to have to if I want to survive. If I'm truly honest with myself, I don't want to be here. I'd prefer to be at home, making pancakes for my daughter, not training for a fight against a criminal organization that seems to be everywhere and knows everything.

Daren punches in a code and a door opens, and we step inside. He hands me a pistol, and I look around. Like the rest of the place, it's gray and sleek, but its design is rigid, unlike the rest which seems more streamlined. There are targets set up on one of the walls, and Adamaris steps forward, gun in hand. He holds up the gun, and fires three times. Each time his shot finds its mark. He smiles and turns to me. "In order to defend yourself, you're going to have to learn how to use a gun with that kind of accuracy, Daniel. I understand you've used a gun before, but haven't actually, well, done anything with it." He chuckles slightly. "In any case, we're going to have to assess how much you have learned so we know how much you have to be taught. Got it?"

I nod. "Adamaris? My main concern is that...well...I don't want to kill people, and I haven't used a gun since I was in Sudan, so I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do this."

Daren grunts. "If that's the case, we're going to have a lot of work to do. Just shoot at the target as accurately as you can and don't shoot either of us."

"Calm yourself, Daren," Adamaris says soothingly. "Daniel, if you don't want to do this, I understand. If you want to we can save this for another-"

"No," I say firmly, grasping the gun. "I'll do it now. No point in waiting until later." I hold the gun up, and see the target in front of me. Despite his reassuring words, I note Adamaris still moves away from me as I prepare to fire. I take a deep breath, in...out. I fire, and am surprised by the force leaving the gun, and nearly fall over. Daren snorts, and I look at the target to see that I barely grazed it. I sigh, and Adamaris claps me on the back. I fire again. This time it hits the outer rim. I keep firing, determined to keep going until my aim is accurate, until finally I'm out of bullets, and I fumble around with the thing trying to reload it. Daren grabs it from me and reloads it with ease, apparent contempt clear in his eyes. I get that he just lost a close friend, but taking out his anger on me isn't the way to go about it.

"All right," Adamaris says firmly, "I think that's enough for now. Daniel, you may proceed with your other training aspects. I think it's time that we let you know about the structure of our people. We investigate potential Prophet-related incidents posing as FBI agents-you'll be getting your badge soon enough. We try to help out the police as best we can and/or do it ourselves. Sometimes we see someone in need because of them, like you were, and we attempt to recruit them. Sometimes we succeed, sometimes...well, to be completely honest here, they die before we can reach them. We'll get you a list of all known Prophet operatives, and soon you'll be out there with us, investigating. Any questions?"

"Nope," I say. "Thank you, Adamaris."

The rest of the day proceeds as such, with training courses and the like. Stealth, hand-to-hand combat, persuasion, etc. I'm decent at some of it, downright terrible at others. So far, I'm best at persuasion, having been a businessman for years. I'm going to have a lot of training in order to become ready for the actual fight against Prophet. It'll be sure to be interesting, at any rate. At the end of the day, I return to my team's quarters to find that Madeline is there, sitting on the couch. I decide that it would be nice to try to befriend her, seeing as she seems a little nervous, a little quiet. I sit down in a chair. "Hi, Madeline."

She doesn't respond for a bit. Her finger is tapping against her leg, and her eyes, per the norm, are trained on the ground. Adamaris told me she had been affected by Prophet more so than the others, mainly because she was a child when it happened. He wouldn't tell me the specifics, but it seemed as though Prophet had been a part of her life for a long time. After a long time, she finally responds. "Hello." She does not stutter, interestingly, although she only says the one word.

"I'm sorry about your loss. I didn't know him, but...I would've liked to," I say, not knowing at all if I'm saying the right thing. She does not cry, but she nods slightly, as if acknowledging what I'm saying.

"T-thank you. S-sorry I s-seem so distant...I-I'm not very g-good at f-friendships."

"You're friends with Adamaris and Daren, right?"

"Y-Yes. B-But I've known th-them for a long t-time. I-I could t-try, I g-guess."

I smile. "Thanks. I'm sure we can be friends. I mean, anyone who's against Prophet is a friend of mine, right?"

She nods again. I still can't see her eyes, and her expression seems oddly blank. She doesn't say anything else and I figure I've made friends with Madeline enough for one day. I stand up and head to my room to find that there's a file on the desk. I open it and an FBI badge slips out. I read it to find that my fake name is agent Samuel Evans. I look at the file and am slightly startled by a picture of Joseph Slater. I realize that this must be the list of known Prophet operatives.

Joseph Slater

Businessman. Suspected involvement with Prophet for a long time due to shady business dealings, various lawsuits, and association with AlTech Industries. Recently confirmed to be Prophet and is currently at large.

Grant Aamor

Known Prophet agent. Was exposed by a team of agents. Is apparently known as the direct representative of the leader of Prophet, whose identity is unknown. Currently at large.

Theodore Malik

Prophet scientist. Known for complete lack of morals and for being a sociopath. Is responsible for some of the more grisly cases filed (see case files 2302, 2411, and 2419). At large.

Adrian Key

Low-level enforcer of Prophet's dirty work. Currently in custody.

Steven Gardner

High-level operative of Prophet. Is responsible for the destruction of one of our bases. Currently at large.

Damien Byrne

A sociopath, Byrne killed thirteen people at a party for no apparent reason. Extremely dangerous. In custody. [FILE ADDENDUM] Has escaped from jail.

I keep reading, looking at all these people, who've killed, tortured, and ruined lives without a second thought. I see those who have paid for their crimes and unfortunately most of them are still at large. I sigh, and sit down on my bed. I don't want to be here. But in the end, I have to. There's no going back to my old life, not with Slater at large and not with the knowledge of Prophet in my head. I would be constantly looking over my shoulder, paranoid that they would find me. The only way to stop this is to end Prophet. Then, just maybe, I can live a normal life. But until then...

It's time for revenge.

***

Adrian Key sat calmly in the detention cell, an amused smile on his face. So far, he'd been left to his own devices. No interrogations. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. In all honesty, he didn't understand why Malcolm wasn't dead, and his group annihilated. He had no doubt that he'd be out of the facility soon enough. It was only a matter of time. He was interrupted from his thoughts by the door opening. It was Malcolm, with his ridiculous mustache. Honestly, he amused Adrian. He was a quirky character, and didn't seem the type to be running an organization. In behind him came a woman with long auburn hair and cold eyes. Adrian sniffed in disdain.

"So, Malcolm Waters himself is here to interrogate me. I guess I should be flattered," he sneered. It was more or less just to see Malcolm's reaction.

"I prefer to get things done myself for the most part," Malcolm said cheerfully. "It would probably make things much easier if you were to just tell us everything you know about Prophet right now."

"Or what? You're gonna torture me?"

The cold woman moved closer towards him. "Permission to smash this arrogant prick's face in?"

"Permission denied," Malcolm said in the same cheerful tone. "Honestly, Astrid. You can't go around smashing everyone's face in. It's unprofessional."

Astrid crossed her arms and scoffed. "He would do the same thing in my shoes."

"The whole point," Macolm exclaimed, gesturing with his hands, "of the no-torture rule is to prove that we're not like them."

Adrian laughed. "You kill our agents all the time. So how is torture any different for you? Too slow and painful? Your lady friend here would sure like to, right? That makes you no different than us."

"We don't ruin people's lives, Key," Malcolm said, although he didn't sound too sure of himself.

"Bonum commune communitatis," Key said calmly. Malcolm looked around in slight confusion, but Key did not translate. Astrid moved close to Adrian, eyes boring a hole into him.

"You will tell us several things, Key. Who is your boss? What is your organization's agenda? And are there any plans for the future that you know of?"

Adrian looked around a bit, and then sighed. He perked up a bit, and smiled. "Well, I don't have anything to lose, and I'll be out of this mudhole you call a base soon enough, so why not? I mainly answer to Joseph Slater, but of course you already know he's involved. As for our agenda...in all honesty, I just do what I'm told and I get paid for it. No idea what the hell our agenda is. And as for future Prophet plans? Well, I'll have to mull that over a bit. I think there was something about a robbery...in all honesty I'm not that much use to you."

"Do you know anything about the robbery, like where it's going to happen, who's involved, what the target is?" Malcolm asked.

Adrian shrugged. "No idea. I was supposed to be a part of it but I hadn't gotten the full debriefing yet. You guys snatched me up before that happened. By the way, thanks for that. I was needing a break from routine," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice like honey.

Astrid sniffed in disdain, arms still crossed. "If that's all you have to offer us, we'll be going now. If it turns out you're hiding something..." She dragged a finger across her throat. Adrian smiled peacefully at her, not scared of her one bit. Okay, maybe he was a little scared of her, but she didn't need to know that.

"I'll be sure to remember that," Adrian said calmly. Malcolm nodded, and the two left the room. What idiots. It was true that Adrian was a simple enforcer, but he knew a lot more than he was letting on. Their complete agenda...he'd always been a talented liar. His one slip-up had gotten him kicked out of high school and kicked into life in Prophet. This wasn't the first time he'd been captured by someone. He didn't just think that someone would come rescue him. He knew someone would come rescue him. Because that was the way Prophet worked. They would never leave a man behind. Could Malcolm say the same?

***

The police stood around, talking, comparing notes. A supposed satellite crash had occurred in the suburban neighborhood, and the area had been cleared out until they could extract it. Yellow tape had been set up, and there was chatter about it, signals were being interfered with. A team was looking at the satellite, and found that it was a little unusual-looking, but other than that pretty normal. Two guards stood by the line, talking about it.

"I mean, it's a little unusual to have a satellite crash, but it can happen right?"

"I'm telling you, I think there's something fishy going on here."

"Oh for god's sake Brian, please don't talk about your damn conspiracy theories again, not now."

"Why not? Satellite crash? Interference with the radio?"

"What? Do you think this is an alien artifact or something?"

"You never know, John. You never know."

A woman in civilian clothes walked up to them. She was pretty, with long brown hair and a small face. "Excuse me, I'd like to get through please."

Brian shrugged. "Sorry, ma'am. No one's allowed in unless you've got security clearance. I don't suppose you have security clearance."

"You don't understand," the woman said, sounding a bit nervous, "I need to get through. It's very important, and I don't want to do things the hard way."

John quirked an eyebrow. "Do things the hard way? Pardon me, ma'am, but is that a threat?"

"No," she said calmly, "it's a fact."

The two cops looked at each other, and then looked back at the woman. "No."

The woman growled. "You don't get it, do you? I need to get through! There are lives at stake here, and you are going to mess it up!" Brian moved forward to calm her down and got a judo kick to the face, knocking him to the ground. John stood there in awe, and then reacted just in time, catching the woman's punch easily. The two fought against each other, each being about evenly matched. Finally, John managed to knock her to the ground and aimed his gun at her. "Sorry, ma'am, we're gonna have a few questions for you. Get in the car."

"You don't understand! If you don't let me go-"

"Get in the car!"

"But-"

"GET IN THE CAR!"

The woman grudgingly slipped inside the car. Brian got up with a moan. "Wha....what happened?"

"She judo kicked you in the face. Come on. She's a good fighter. We need to find out why she was here." The two men got in the car and started driving. John called in to explain where they were going. The woman hung around in the back, twiddling her thumbs, eyes cast downwards. She was resigned to the inevitable, now that the fools had stopped her from going to see the crash.

"Hey John," Brian said, still a little woozy from the blow, and holding an ice pack to his face, "she was here for the crash. See? That means there must be a conspiracy going on!"

John groaned. "No, Brian, please not now. I would've thought a blow to the head would've knocked some sense into you."

The woman checked her watch and sighed. Thirty seconds.

"I have more sense than you ever will. I mean, when the aliens come down and start killing us, you'll be sorry."

Twenty seconds.

"Brian, please stop. You're giving me a headache. Do me a favor and be quiet."

Ten seconds.

"I'm telling you, something's not right here! I'm sure that-"

Boom. The explosion rocked the entire neighborhood, flipping the car fender over fender. Brian and John screamed, and the woman saw Brian's head crack as it hit the ceiling (he hadn't been wearing a seat belt) and John get smashed by the airbag, which did nothing. Soon, it was over, and the woman looked up fearfully, blood trailing down from her temple. Brian stared lifelessly ahead, blood pouring down into the seat below him. John on the other hand was bloodied to the point of being barely recognizable and barely breathing, but not dead. The woman climbed out of the car and took Brian's gun, looking at John in his pitiful state. She fired out of pity. She stood, wobbling, and moved towards the epicenter of the explosion. Apart from a few pieces of metal, the "satellite" was all but destroyed. She sighed.

Her phone rang, startling her. She answered it. Grant Aamor's nasally voice came through. "Agent Hunt, what the hell just happened? You were supposed to diffuse it!"

"I tried, sir. Security stopped me. I didn't have time to-"

"Agent Hunt, we've trained you for this eventuality. Why the hell didn't you kill the guards as soon as you saw them?"

"I didn't think it was prudent to kill them."

"So while you were trying to reason with the two buffoons, you allowed both them and everyone else in the area to be killed! Without completing the objective! Well excuuuussseee me about what's prudent around here, Hunt!"

Natalie Hunt rolled her eyes, although she knew Aamor couldn't see her. "I don't think you're exactly the right one to be talking to me about the value of human life, sir."

Aamor growled. "Just...get it done next time."

"I will. Don't worry." Hunt hung up and sighed, a saddened look on her face. These people weren't meant to die like this. It was a cruel trick of fate. Hunt's compassion for other people caused her to fail the objective, and therefore killed everyone around her. She sighed, looking around at the carnage. She could hear sirens in the distance. She turned and walked away. She didn't realize she walked past what remained of a security camera, and if she'd known, she wouldn't have cared.

It would all be downhill from there.

 

[*M i d n a*]

Both chapters were awesome, Myriad, :nod: but the last update got very interesting in the end with that explosion. I'm guessing Hunt isn't that bad, I mean, she has compassion within her, maybe she'll change sides or at least help the good side. And I like how you actually keep the story going. I found myself laughing during some funny parts, lol, like when that guy is talking and no one in the chopper was listening to him. I don't recall his name and I don't want to go back to it, but that was funny. And I enjoyed how Daniel is being shown the ropes by the rest of the characters. I surely enjoyed reading about Adamaris, and also the role you have given him. Please continue to delight us with your great story.

 

[TatlTails]

Yay, you updateeed~! I loved this, Madi was awesome. And yes I'mma still call her Madi. But she was awesome, and the villians were super-cool. And this is gonna turn out to be epic! A trilogy?! This is gonna rock!

Adding this an entire say later: Daren... So Dagger-y... The pain... So... Dagger-y... *collapses*

 

[Myriadviper42]

Chapter 7

All four of us stand in the briefing room, waiting for Malcolm to arrive. The man seems to enjoy being fashionably late and keeping the suspense up. It's been two weeks since I arrived here, and apparently it is now time for my first mission. Daren stands there with his arms crossed and tapping his feet, while Adamaris slouches slightly and appears to be very relaxed, finally, Madeline seems to be very rigid. I realize that this is their first mission since their former teammate died. Finally, after about five minutes more of waiting, Malcolm walks into the room, followed by a stern but young looking woman who I know from the files is named Astrid Lark. Malcolm stops in front of us and clears his throat, and the monitor behind him spontaneously erupts into a picture of desolated wreckage that might have once been houses.

"Twenty-four hours ago," Malcolm begins, his tone completely serious for once, "A supposed satellite crash occurred in a suburban neighborhood in Massachusetts. The police roped off the area and attempted to determine the cause of it. Two hours later, the supposed satellite exploded, obliterating the entire neighborhood and killed three hundred and forty-five people." My jaw drops. That's...a lot of people.

Astrid speaks up. "This phenomenon has occurred before, in twelve known locations throughout the world. At four of them, Prophet agents were found at the scene, but we were unable to apprehend them. Your job is to find out whether or not this has anything to do with Prophet, and then track down the agent responsible. Are there any questions?"

"Yes," I say. "If Prophet is behind the bombings, what reason would they have for doing so?"

"We don't know," Malcolm says gravely, "like I said, we haven't been able to capture a Prophet agent until two weeks ago, and that one didn't know anything."

"We're hoping you can find out," Astrid says meaningfully. "It's not too dangerous of a mission, a...dysfunctional team such as yourself should be able to pull it off."

"Dysfunctional?" Adamaris and Daren say at the same time. Adamaris looks amused, Daren looks indignant. I laugh slightly, and Astrid glances at me with disapproval. Madeline says nothing, quietly drinking the information without paying any attention to anything else.

Malcolm rolls his eyes. "I assume you can get it done? I mean, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't."

"We can get it done," Daren says confidently.

"And the rest of your team?" Astrid asks.

"Definitely," says Adamaris.

"S-sure," says Madeline.

"I'm ready for it," says I.

"All right then," Marcus says, perking up and grinning at us, "Time to show us what you're made of! Dismissed!"

The four of us leave the room quickly, and I smile. Time for some action. Should be good to finally be active instead of just training. Not that that isn't important, of course. In the past two weeks, I've relearned how to fire a gun, and essentially become an acceptable agent in the field. I still have much to learn, though, and I'm glad they're starting me out with more of a recon mission than anything. Not that there isn't danger involved with that, but as opposed to infiltrating and killing a Prophet base, I'm glad we're starting off slow here. The four of us get into an elevator that leads up to the surface, and we wait. Finally, the elevator dings and we're let off inside of an office building. The desk clerk nods at us as we walk by and we leave into the parking lot.

"We're under an office building?" I ask incredulously, and the other three nod casually, as if it's old news to them (which it is, of course).

"Yeah," Daren says, cracking his knuckles. "In order to go down you have to press the buttons in the right order. Seven six one three. Then it'll go down there. Causes quite a bit of confusion if someone in the office is waiting for it while it's down below, they just think it's slow, heh heh." I don't say anything back, and the four of us get in a sleek black car. I suppose that Malcolm's friend in the government is pretty generous. Adamaris drives and I take the shotgun seat. Madeline and Daren get in the back. The drive is mostly quiet, I'm not entirely sure why.

Eventually, we reach our destination and I look out the window. Once more, I'm frightened by what little is left from the explosion. There's a full-blown operation going on here, people are being found halfway crushed under rubble among other horrid things. It is a tense and uneasy atmosphere. There's constant chatter going on, and the four of us move over to two police officers who seem to be directing the operation.

"No, we have no idea what happened here," the officer says into his phone, looking distressed and anxious. "We don't even know if it's happened before, who caused it, so get off my case and let me do my job!" He hangs up and sighs. Adamaris walks over to him.

"Are you in charge of this operation?" Adamaris says, sounding quite professional.

"Yeah," he says, looking wary, "Who might you be?"

Adamaris pulls out his fake FBI card. "I'm FBI Agent William Lock, and this is my team."

The cop nods. "Ah, FBI. They decided to send more, I guess. Can't say I blame them..."

Daren nods. "Yeah. So, no one has any clue what happened here?"

"No, I keep having to tell everybody that. I suppose you guys don't have any clue?"

"That's why we're here," I say calmly, and the cop nods.

"I'll let you know if I find anything, sirs, but for now I really do have some business to attend to," the cop says, looking apologetic, and moves over quickly to talk with someone else. Adamaris sighs, and crosses his arms, looking around as if he'll actually find something.

"You guys have any ideas?" he asks. I shrug, and Daren starts looking around, looking for any clues that could help us. Madeline stays put, and her body language seems different than usual. Like she's trying to figure something out but isn't saying anything until she's done. After a while, she finally speaks up.

"W-what about s-security c-cameras?" she asks timidly. "C-could those h-have p-picked up a-any important i-information?"

"Hmmmnnn," Adamaris says, looking thoughtful. "Could be, could be. Nice thought, Madi. Let me ask the cops here if they've found anything." He goes over to the cops and starts talking with them, and comes back over. "They're looking but haven't found any yet. The investigation's still young, so I'm sure that any minute now someone's going to find a security camera and we'll hopefully figure out what we're dealing with here."

At that exact moment, someone yells something out from across the street. "Hey! I've found a security camera!" It's Daren, and he appears to be kneeling in front of what was once probably a supermarket outside of the neighborhood. Daren pulls a security camera out of the rubble that was once a parking lot, and several cops come over.

"Nice work, sir," one of them says, and I can see Daren slightly smirking to himself.

"All right," Adamaris says, official voice on. "We're going to see if these recordings have anything on them that could determine the cause of this. Where's the nearest computer?" One of the cops answers that it's in one of the police cars, and grabs it. The four of us gather around the laptop and Daren manages to transfer the recordings onto the computer somehow. One thing I've learned about him-he's good with computers. The camera comes on with the supermarket looking pretty much normal. There's a group of people trying to look in and see what's going on in the neighborhood. It continues on without occurrence for a while until a police car travels out of the neighborhood. Suddenly, without warning, there's a huge explosion, and the security camera is tossed on the side. It's difficult to see what's going on, but in a few minutes we see a woman walking past the rubble, a phone in her ear.

"Stop," I say, and it stops on the frame of the mostly unharmed woman. "Zoom in, and see if she's part of Prophet." Daren does what I tell him to, although rolling his eyes all the way through. Daren runs her through facial recognition and eventually it turns up as Natalie Hunt, who was "killed" in a car accident three years ago.

"Well," Daren says calmly, and with a hint of smug satisfaction to him, "there's our Prophet agent."

***

The Prophet agent in question was currently at a motel in Vermont. Hunt knew that Malcolm's group would probably figure out that she was involved with the pod incident. As she opened and closed the door to the motel, she sighed in relief and slumped back against the door. After a bit, she stood up again and moved over to a map of the world on the wall. All over it were placed green and red thumbtacks. The majority of them were green. Sighing, she took a red thumbtack in her hands and placed it on Massachusetts after removing a yellow thumbtack from it.

The pods, as Prophet called them, were not created by them. It also didn't matter to them whether or not if it was diffused, if it weren't for one crucial aspect about the pods. Hunt's job was to diffuse them. She knew why and for what purpose, but like several others in their organization, Hunt was concerned about Control's lack of empathy to anyone. They were a cold and calculating machine, only caring about whether the jobs got done. Once again, Hunt wondered how she'd gotten caught up in all this deception and treachery. Once more, she looked back and thought about what might have happened if she had made different choices. The right choices?

It had started three years ago, when she was an undercover CIA agent attempting to find out what the hell Prophet's deal was. She'd been confident, maybe overconfident in her job. She'd ID'ed the suspect, Steven Gardner, and attempted to arrest him. He fled, and the resulting car chase led to Hunt's car going over a bridge, where she was presumed dead. Obviously, she was not. Prophet fished her out of the water and she woke up a day later in a secure facility. The man named Marcus had talked to her. He'd explained everything that he knew, answered all her questions with what she assumed to be the truth, or what he thought to be the truth. He offered her a place in his organization, under the terms that she could not contact the CIA or call for help in any way. She accepted.

Since then, she'd been assigned mainly to diffuse these pods. She was not the only one, but was one of the more successful ones. She always drowned herself in guilt when she failed to stop the bomb from going off. She knew it wasn't really her fault, but it still hurt. She reclined on the bed and closed her eyes. Sleep seemed like a good option right about then. It always did after a mission. However, before she could get herself situated, her phone went off, and she groaned. She answered the phone, and Steven Gardner, the man who'd caused her to enter this world, answered.

"Hello, Agent Hunt. I am truly sorry, but our sensors have detected that another pod will be arriving in London, Ontario within the frame of a week, so...better get over there." He sounded smug and glad to see that she would have more work to do so soon after her previous assignment.

"Gardner, where's Grant Aamor?"

"Currently occupied, darling. You get me for now."

Hunt groaned. Annoying as Aamor could be, he was actually helpful in most cases. Gardner would be deliberately unhelpful, and would probably ask for "favors" in exchange for helping her. And Hunt knew what kind of favors he would want. It certainly wouldn't be groceries, that was for sure. "All right, fine, damn it. So, London, Ontario? Should be all right."

"Yes, it should, assuming you don't botch it this time, darling. That's part of the reason you have me, you know. Marcus thinks that a different supervising officer will provide a different result. So he picked moi. Isn't that fantastic?"

"Not really, no. Just get on with it and tell me what to do."

"Get there in time and complete the objective, sweetheart. Thought it would've been obvious."

She groaned. Steven Gardner, her supervisor? He'd end up killing her by being deliberately unhelpful. "No, I mean are there any complications?"

"Malcolm's group is onto you. They appear to have taken security footage from the last pod explosion. Be cautious. Can you get there?

"I'll get there. Don't worry."

"You'll get there don't worry what?"

She seethed, and said the following words through her teeth. "I'll get there. Don't worry sir."

"That's better. Man, is it nice to have some respect around here, don't you think?" He hung up, leaving Hunt to wonder whether or not this life with Prophet was worth it. She'd volunteered for the pod mission in order to save lives in an organization that seemed intent on ruining them. In the end, would they make a difference? Would anything make a difference? Abusus non tollit usum. She sighed, and started packing. Suddenly, an idea occurred to her. Malcolm's group would undoubtedly be on to them by now. Why not leave it here, make things more interesting? Interesting was good. Interesting would mean she would be able to hear their side of the story, see if they knew the full extent of the trouble they were in. She smiled, and looked at the map. She left it there, and headed out into the parking lot to see a security cam. She walked up to it, smiled, and walked away.

***

The Latin phrases are a thing with Prophet. You can look up the translations and make of them what you will.

 

[TatlTails]

OOOOOOOO. THINGS ARE GETTING EPIC. I actually love this Natalie Hunt lady, she's epictastic awesomesauce. I like missionness, the team is awesome. And Madi would know about security cameras, she's had to avoid them her entire childhood. ^^ And someone finally called her Madi, which is sweet. But yeah, entire chapter is epiiiic~!

 

[*M i d n a*]

It's good, Myriad, still very entertaining, and Malcolm is on to that prophet agent. Will she get to London in time? Or will Malcolm and the rest of the team catch up to her? Can't wait for more, that's for sure.

 

[Myriadviper42]

I might continue to do author's note type stuff at the beginning or end of each chapter. Just for future reference.

Chapter 8

Adamaris gets off the phone with Malcolm and turns to the rest of us. "Malcolm's contact pulled a few strings. Natalie Hunt checked into a motel in Vermont twelve hours ago under an alias-Veronica Holt. The FBI task force investigating this has been...redirected elsewhere. We don't want them involved with Prophet, forgive me for sounding arrogant but I think that we are more suited towards this. Even if she's not there, we can still probably pick up some clues as to where she might have gone. All instructions clear?"

Daren, Madeline, and I all nod. There's nothing really to say. We get back in the car and I sneak one last look at the carnage left behind by these people. If Prophet is involved with this, what the hell would be the reasoning? To show what they're capable of? To prove a point? To threaten for more in the future? According to Daren, explosions that were similar stories to this one have happened before all around the world, but never with this many casualties. Apparently it's mainly hit underpopulated areas, although there have been some casualties. So why didn't Malcolm tell us that something like this has happened before? Or did he even know? I don't really like thinking about this kind of thing right now, not on my first mission. I can't be doubting my superiors already, so why do I do so?

The ride is mostly silent, and I still bemoan the fact that these people still aren't really all that comfortable around me. Adamaris is probably the most comfortable and chatty. Daren doesn't seem to like me much and Madeline is too shy to try to become friends. I seriously do hope we all can become friends and don't have to sit in this awkward silence all the time. It would make things a lot...nicer around here, I suppose. But for now, it seems as though the quiet will have to do for now. There's nothing to really be done for it. After a while, the car stops, and I look around in slight confusion. The four of us get out to see the motel that Hunt was staying at.

"All right," Daren says, cracking his knuckles. "Time to see what we're dealing with here. Oy, new guy, is your gun ready?"

"Is my gun ready?"

"Yeah, your gun. You know, the thing you might need to use to shoot people if things don't go our way."

I fumble around a bit before placing my hand on my gun. "Um...yeah...yeah, it's ready."

Adamaris smiles. "Come on, Daren, don't tease the guy. First mission and all." He turns to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "You'll be fine, Daniel. Don't worry." I wasn't worrying about the actual mission all that much, I don't tell him that. The four of us walk inside. I note with some minor interest that Madeline has spoken about three sentences today. The girl really does need to lighten up a bit, but I don't tell her that, at the very obvious risk of sounding rude. We go inside to see a lady with thick curly hair and glasses working at the desk who barely looks up at us when we arrive.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"FBI," I say, holding up my badge. "We're here to investigate someone who was here about twelve hours ago, a Veronica Holt?"

The woman looks at us with a bored expression. "She checked out about three hours ago. Said she was going up to London, Ontario or something like that. You can take a look around if you want, no one's taken her room yet."

We nod and she gives us the key. Once we're out of earshot Madeline speaks up. "W-why would s-she t-tell anyone where s-she was g-going?"

Adamaris nods. "Could be a trap. Let's see if we have anything in here before making a conclusion." Daren unlocks the door to her motel room and opens it. It's mostly clean, and looks like a normal room for the most part. I'm starting to wonder why we're even bothering to look for evidence, it's a Prophet agent, and they don't really seem the type to leave anything behind. Then, I see it. On one of the walls is a giant map of the world, covered in green and red pushpins.

"Guys..." I say uncertainly. "I've found something, you should probably come over here." Daren, Adamaris, and Madeline all come towards me.

"What the hell is this?" Daren asks, sounding a bit confused.

"No idea," I say apologetically.

Adamaris inspects the map closely, and taps his finger on a red pushpin on the Eastern Coast. "That's about where Massachusetts is. I think...I think that this is a map of all the bombings."

"W-what about t-the different c-colors?" Madeline asks.

Daren steps forward. "If red means that it blew up, which we assume that's what it means, then maybe green means it didn't blow up. Just a guess..."

"What about the yellow one, right there?" I ask, pointing at one in Canada.

"That," Adamaris says dramatically, "is where we're going."

"W-what if it's a t-trap?"

"It probably is, Madi," Adamaris says soothingly, "but we'll be prepared. Let's go."

They walked out into the parking lot and heard the click of a gun behind them. "Don't move." The four of us turn around, to see the lady from behind the desk, except her curly hair and glasses are gone. She has short blond hair and calm eyes, not a sadism I've seen in other Prophet agents like my brother and Slater. It's not Hunt. I recognize her from the files of Prophet agents. I remember her picture being in there, but not her name. "Drop your weapons now, or I'll shoot. Understood?"

"Do we have to?" Daren asks, miming a child, and in response the woman fires, causing Daren to yell out in pain. He falls, and I yell something out, but don't really know what. The Prophet agent rolls her eyes. "Oh, he'll be fine, you dolt. I just shot him in the foot. Now, here's the deal. If you back-sass, I shoot you in the foot. If you continue, I'll kill you. One flesh wound, then you die."

"Okay, okay," I say, dropping my gun and putting my hands up in the air. "Could you just tell me what your name is?"

"I am Enforcer Katherine Davidson, and you are now prisoners of Prophet. We're going to be negotiating a release of my partner, Adrian Key. I believe you've heard of him. We're going to be trading off you people for him. Our terms, our way, you understand?" The four of us nod. "Good. Now here's the way this is going to work. You're going to get into the car. The Spaniard can drive, I'll take shotgun. You will call to your base and explain the situation to them, and then arrange for him to be picked up and taken to the exchange point, which we will decide over the phone. Now move!"

We do as she says, and pile into the car. I notice her picking up our guns and stuffing them in the trunk. She climbs into the shotgun seat, gun pointed at Adamaris, whose hands are firmly placed on the wheel. "Now call Malcolm." He does so, and they arrange the terms. We're going to meet at a gas station in rural New York and make the switch. I sit in the backseat next to Daren and Madeline, sighing at how the mission was going so far. Not very well. Not only did we fail to even go after the other agent, we're captured. This won't be good on my record, that's for sure. I look outside to see countryside and grassland. Seems pretty peaceful in contrast to what's going on right now. I sigh, and suddenly I notice something in the field. A figure that I can't make out. I feel a sense of foreboding, and suddenly I unbuckle my seat belt. Katherine turns around after she hears the click. "What the hell are you doing?" Daren tries to sit me down, but I unlock the door and jump out just as a grenade explodes, sending the car flipping fender over fender until landing in the field right-side-up.

I slam into the pavement and I touch my finger to my face and feel the bruise. I turn towards the crashed car, and suddenly Madeline and Adamaris are out of the car, and quickly pop open the trunk. They both now have guns in hand. Katherine gets out, some blood on her head, and fires at them. Where's Daren. I stumble towards them as Adamaris and Madeline shoot at her. Katherine places her hands on the car and launches off of it, tackling Adamaris to the ground and sending his gun spiraling out of his hands. Madeline punches her in the back and she stumbles for a second before kicking her in the face, knocking poor Madeline out. I run towards the car and open the door to find a bloodied Daren in the backseat. Looks as though he took the worst of it.

"You okay?"

"I'd be better if you would get out of my face!"

"You need medical attention, fast."

"No s**t, Sherlock! What, does this look like a tea party to you? I'm fine, just take her out!"

I turn to see a fist slam into my face, causing me to lurch around a bit like a drunk and nearly fall over. Adamaris leaps on her back and tries to strangle her, but she falls backwards on top of him, leaving him dazed. I think about my training over the past week, and Katherine and I fight. She ducks and punches a lot. She had surprise on her side last time, now it's an even match. She roundhouse kicks me in the face, and I return with a couple of jabs to the stomach. She uppercuts, ducks, and backhands me, and I'm sent scattering to the ground. She runs, leaving us all pretty much beaten on the pavement. Why is she running? She could have easily killed us. I get up, woozy, and then my legs give out and I hit the ground.

***

Malcolm wasn't happy. The first time they'd ever captured a Prophet agent, and now they were expected to give him up in exchange for four of his men. He deeply cared about all his men, but that didn't stop him from being pissed about the circumstances. If Astrid had had her way, the exchange wouldn't even be taking place and Madeline, Daren, Adamaris, and Daniel would be left out to rot. Fortunately, it was Malcolm in charge, not Astrid, so they would be living to fight another day. He watched as Key was loaded into a van in handcuffs. Key flashed him a smirk, a reminder of the conversation they'd had. I told you they'd come for me.

Malcolm walked up to him and put his mouth close to his ear. "You'd better hope we don't find you next time, 'cause I'm not in a very good mood," he hissed, and Adrian just smirked at him, not saying anything. Malcolm walked away, sighing. What a day, what a day. Adrian sat down inside of the van. He knew something was wrong. He couldn't explain why, he just somehow knew that something had happened. The van doors closed and they started moving. Adrian looked around a bit. A bar on the ceiling. That was all he needed. He waited about thirty minutes, thirty painful minutes of nothing but cramps and boredom.

He knocked on the barrier. "Oy! Need to use the restroom here!" There was no response towards this. "All right! I can pee on your nice shiny floor, that's all right with me! Not disgusting at all!" He could hear an audible sigh from the front, and he smirked. The driver pulled over to the countryside. He got out of the van and opened the back door.

"All right, Key, you've got a minute, don't mess it-wait, Key?" Adrian Key was raised up on the bar over the opening. Flexed arm hang in school had finally paid off. As the driver walked into the van to find nothing there, he dropped down like a cat. The driver suddenly jerked back as his breathing was cut off by Adrian's handcuffs. He struggled and squirmed to break free, but Key merely chuckled at him. He could see the poor man's face turning blue, and with a quick jerk of his handcuffs the man's life was ended permanently. His partner up in the shotgun seat would soon get suspicious, but for now he grabbed the key off the dead man's body and unlocked his handcuffs.

He took the man's gun, and moved silently around to the shotgun seat. The other man was sitting in there relaxing. Key opened the door, and the man opened his eyes and looked towards him to see that the man standing there was not his buddy and was pointing a gun at his face. A blast, and blood and brain matter stained the seats. Adrian brushed off some imaginary dirt and took the man's phone. He dialed a number and waited for three rings. The other man then picked up. "This is Key. Requesting extraction."

***

The federal building was rather busy. Lots of people milling about, with work to do. The team investigating the explosion in Manhattan had come up blank (as they would). Lots of people checking in and out, lots of paperwork, and all sorts of exciting stuff like that. Which is why the people didn't give the man in the tuxedo all that much thought when he walked into the lobby. He was a middle-aged gentleman, with a fair amount of stubble and moderate complexion. He was a little below average height, but didn't give the impression of it. He used a cane, which seemed more like a fashion statement than an actual necessity. His eyes were narrow and brown, and he walked with a confidence that marked him as used to being in control.

"May I help you today, sir?" The desk lady asked, not sure about this strange man she'd never seen before.

The man smiled affably. "Of course you can. I'm here to see Mr. Quinn."

"Mr. Quinn is not currently expecting any visitors."

"Hmn." He tapped his finger on his cane in thought. "That's rather odd. I do have an appointment. Perhaps if you were to check my credentials?" Under his coat was a gun, and the desk lady gulped.

"Well...I suppose your story checks in." He flashed a smile at her.

"Good. Well, nice to meet you, miss."

"You're going to have to go through security, you know," the woman said uncertainly.

"Oh, I know. I'm counting on it." He winked at her and continued on. A metal detector was next, and he went through to find that it went off. He smiled as they tried to stop him. He looked around the bright lobby, people milling about living lives, not knowing that theirs was about to come to an end.

"Sir, I would ask you to stop now, you weren't approved on the metal detector-" The man raised his cane and squeezed a trigger on the side. A bang, and smoke started filling the room. The man trying to stop him fell over, throat blue, choking. He started to convulse on the ground, and the man casually stepped past him. People all around the room soon experienced the same symptoms, and screams and panic filled the air. He smiled calmly, using his cane to navigate past the dying people on the floor. Two stories above, agents all had guns pointed at him. Fortunately for them, the poison remained near the ground, and therefore wouldn't affect them.

"Freeze! Put the cane on the ground!"

The man obliged, a polite smile still on his face. "Done. I'm turning myself in."

"Who are you?"

His smile broke out into a grin, and he laughed. "My name is Marcus Trueman. I'm the leader of an organization known as Prophet. I believe you've heard of me?"

***

Hint: Look back at the prologue.

 

[TatlTails]

...Well then. That... That happened.

...

...

...Daren's still Dagger-y.

 

[*M i d n a*]

Lol, our team got their *** kicked, but they are not out yet, and I really wonder why Katherine did not kill them. :hmm: And I did go back to the prologue but all I could make of this is that Marcus was there to get himself captured, like Damien did. Anyway, a lot of action in this last update, Myriad, things are looking great, keep it up. ^^

 

[Myriadviper42]

Ugh...I accidentally deleted the chapter so the entire thing is gone. HAVE TA DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN...eh...if this chapter seems rushed you now know why. Author's note: I've envisioned Marcus Trueman as looking like Mark Sheppard...just so ya know.

Chapter 9

I slowly come to in a familiar metal facility. I breathe in and out. Our first mission...a failure. No no no, this can't be happening. Will we be called back for now? What's going to happen? Are Daren, Madeline, and Adamaris all right? I have a lot of questions and there's no way to answer them here. I look around to see a bandage on my side. If I were to be the reason my team wee injured in any way...I would never forgive myself. I could never forgive myself. The door opens and Malcolm walks in. I get a case of deja vu. This was how it was a month ago when I first came here. After an injury, Malcolm comes to me to deliver information. I sit up with little problem, and wait anxiously for the news.

"Daniel, I'm sorry, but Natalie Hunt has dropped off the map after apparently diffusing the bomb in London. I'm personally surprised that Prophet wasn't the one behind them. It does beg the question of who did, of course. I know you must be worried about your teammates. Madeline is out of recovery, and Daren and Adamaris are still getting there. They're fine."

I sigh in relief. "Thanks. I feel much better now. If they'd died or been seriously injured I never would have been able to forgive myself."

He puts an arm on my shoulder. "It wouldn't have been your fault. As it is, we have no more leads on the whole bomb thing that we can take care of. Although I am the leader of this organization, we have multiple facilities situated around the world."

"We do?"

He smiles wryly. "Did you honestly think that this was our only base on the entire planet? When Prophet is a globe-spanning organization as well?"

"Well...now that I think about it it does seem a little odd." I laugh a bit.

"Exactly. I am the ultimate leader of this organization, but you're lucky enough to have been in the region closest to our main facility, namely this."

"Well...thank you, Malcolm. I'm glad there wasn't any trouble." I get up slowly, and Malcolm helps me walk outside. I see the entire facility like I did my first day, with every floor visible below me, the operations spanning out the entirety. I see people training and talking, and on a catwalk below me, I see something that draws my eye. A handcuffed man surrounded by armed guards. The man appears to be a bit short, with a smug air, and his eyes and head are constantly moving around, taking it all in. His eyes find mine, and once he sees me he grins. He keeps moving until he's out of sight.

"Malcolm..." I say uncertainly.

"Yes, mate?"

"Who's the man who was escorted by those armed guards?"

"That, old chap, is Marcus Trueman, leader of Prophet."

"What? How did we manage to capture him?"

Malcolm shrugs. "He turned himself in after releasing a toxin in a federal building. Weird stuff. My contact arranged for him to be brought here."

Something sparks in my mind. "Wait...that's pretty much what happened when my brother got captured! It was pretty much the exact same thing!"

"Really?" Malcolm asks, and then furrows his eyebrows. "Most intriguing...I suppose we'll have to keep an eye on him...if you'll excuse me, I have a specialist just dying to show me how Trueman's marvelous cane works, so cheerio." He disappears quickly, and I look around a bit. Huh? Cane? What the heck is he talking about. In the end, I just shrug and walk away. That was quick.

***

Malcolm walked up to the specialist, Adam Goodwin. Adam was young. Very young. He'd been forcibly kidnapped by Prophet at the age of fourteen because he was a child genius. He'd been forced to work with them, doing and seeing many terrible things. He'd gotten through it by maintaining a smile and a positive attitude. Malcolm had freed him, and he was probably the most chipper person Malcolm knew, apart from himself. He was happy to help, and wanted more than anyone to bring Prophet down. Malcolm knew that psychological scars had been left on him, but he managed to overcome them. And here he was now. He still had a boyish face, with long sandy hair and a seemingly perpetual expression of excitement. Adam smiled as Malcolm walked up to him.

"All right sir, you ready to find out how this thing works?"

"Of course, mate. Astound me."

Adam shuffled and cleared his throat. He picked up the sleek black cane in his hand. "All right, you see, the cane is a highly advanced piece of technology. It has five settings that can be switched between by twisting this ring on it. The first setting is a gun. You pull the trigger, boom boom boom. It's not very effective, it has a lot of knockback, and there are only about five bullets in it with no easy way to replace them, so this is probably more of a shoot-'em-when-their-back-is-turned kind of thing. The second setting releases poisonous gas that suffocates people. Trueman seems to be immune to it, no surprise there. The third setting, if you place the end on pretty much any access panel, it will automatically open it. Only a couple of exceptions. The fourth setting-I'm a huge fan of this one personally-electrifies the end, presumably for close-quarters combat." He paused, taking a breather.

"And the fifth setting?" Malcolm asked, bemused. Adam grinned, and twisted the top off. He pulled the trigger and a blade popped out. "Voila," he said, a self-satisfied tone to his voice. "Well, Malcolm? What do you think?"

"It's quite an impressive piece of technology. Very impressive. If Prophet made this...it seems that they're developing a lot."

"From what I can tell, they couldn't have made too many of these, they cost A LOT," Adam said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just wondering why Trueman brought one with him when he turned himself in."

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows. "That'll have to be one of the questions I ask him when I see him. That's where I'm going next."

Adam nodded. "I do think this thing is cool. Like something out of a spy movie. Ooh, if he escapes and gets another one, there could be a cane fight!" His face lit up, and Malcolm chuckled.

"We'll see, friend. Ta ta for now, must be going, prisoner to interview." Adam smiled and nodded. Malcolm waved at him and quickly left, a smile on his face. After a while, he reached the prison hallway, and pressed his hand on it. He walked down the corridor, simultaneously bemoaning and bemusing the fact that there was only one cell filled. He placed his hand on the sensor, and his lieutenant, Astrid, materialized next to him. Not literally, of course. The door opened, and Malcolm took a deep breath before walking into the cell. Waiting for him was the smug face of Marcus Trueman, just as he remembered it.

"Malcolm!" Trueman said cheerfully. "What a pleasant surprise! How are you holding up, old friend?"

"I think you know how well I'm holding up, Trueman," Malcolm said while sitting down across from Trueman. Astrid stood behind him and a little to the left, arms crossed.

Trueman shrugged. "I suppose. I was just being polite, and here you are calling me by my last name. Tsk tsk."

"Quiet, Trueman," Marcus snapped. "We have a few questions for you, and you are going to answer them."

"Oh, am I? I wasn't aware."

Malcolm quietly clenched his fists, a gesture Astrid noticed calmly. "You got yourself captured for a reason, Trueman. Tell me why, and tell me what the hell Prophet is doing."

Trueman rolled his eyes, and chuckled. "You always did feel as though you were the odd man out...like everyone knew what was going on except you. You would be left out of the status quo, always performing work without getting any explanation why you were doing it. Quite convenient that literally the only one in our organization not to know our eventual goal was the one to desert! I pride myself on my judgment of peoples' characters. You joined because we were quote 'best buds.' And here we are now. You were right. I know I probably should have told you. Unfortunately, I couldn't trust you. Because you'd met with him."

"Answer the question, Marcus," Malcolm said, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, so its Marcus now?" he said, laughing. "We knew you couldn't be trusted so we tried to provide some...incentive. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out that way. It's so easy to assume that because a loved one has died, you would have lost the will to fight. Unfortunately, you reacted with aggression, which I suppose I should have predicted."

Astrid could sense her commander's fury growing, and she tried placing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed it off. "How could you think that?" he hissed. "You are a lunatic, Trueman."

He chuckled. "I'm flattered, but I was going for more of a Hannibal Lecter-ish vibe. How's your sister holding up, buddy?"

That was it. Malcolm snapped. "YOU MEAN AFTER YOU DROVE HER INSANE?" He slammed his fists down on the table as he spoke, and Trueman started laughing. Suddenly, firm and strong hands crushed his throat, making him struggle for air. Astrid yelled and tried to pry Malcolm off of his former friend as the life slowly left him. Finally, she punched Malcolm in the face and his grip loosened. Trueman gasped for air for some time. "Sir," Astrid said, "with all due respect, this man has probably the most information on Prophet in the world. If you kill him, we lose that."

The heavy breathing and coughing behind them suddenly became mixed with laughing, creating a completely disturbing and deranged sound. Trueman's laughing eventually ended in a coughing fit before he finally quieted down. "Sorry about that," Malcolm said, clearly not sorry.

Trueman cleared his throat, his face returning to normal color. "Now that, my friend, is a way to interrogate someone. I almost thought you were completely hopeless on that front...since when have you people ever been competent enough to interrogate prisoners successfully? Without torture?"

Malcolm didn't respond for a while, seeming to be composing himself. "If you aren't going to give us any information, old friend...we'll have to talk another time."

He got up and turned around. Astrid, ever his shadow, got up as well, and both prepared to walk out of the room. Right before they left, Trueman's voice came out behind them. "LBBW Bank, Prague. Thirty minutes from now. Damien Byrne is in charge. You might want to call that in."

Malcolm and Astrid turned around, suddenly interested. "Prophet is hitting a bank?"

"Correct."

Malcolm and Astrid looked at each other, and then at Trueman. "How do we know you're not baiting us?"

Trueman sniffed, a smarmy look on his face. "I don't exactly want to be strangled to death. I have value, I have my life. Would've thought that would be obvious. If I'm wrong, you have full permission to kill me."

Astrid and Malcolm looked at each other again, and then back to Trueman. Malcolm turned away and got on his phone. An unspoken communication had passed between the two. Either they stop a Prophet excursion, or they would get to beat up Marcus Trueman. Win-win.

***

Damien Byrne knelt outside of the bank vault, placing a device on the vault door.. A dead security guard lay beside him, and he smiled to himself. It'd been a long time since he'd killed someone. It'd been a long time since he'd done anything, and here he was, out in the field. While Marcus was out doing Operation Moron (as he liked to call it), leadership of Prophet was taken over by Grant Aamor. Not exactly the most likable character. No no, not at all. He chuckled, and Adrian Key's voice appeared through his ear piece.

"Damien, have you found the vault yet? I'm getting bored here."

"I'm here. The melting device has been applied, and we'll soon have access to the objective."

The wall began to melt, folding over and gleaming orange. Smoke drifted away from the door and down the hallway. Finally, the safe melted inwards and Damien stepped over the melted metal and smiled as he saw the small, pulsing device in the middle of the vault. His hand slowly reached out and grabbed it. He dangled it dangerously on the end of his fingers before flipping it into the palm of his hand. "Mission accomplished, Key. Let's get out of here before-"

The alarm went off, flashing red all over his face, and he thought of blood. Yelling, and he turned around calmly as a guard ran towards the vault and stopped. Damien raised his gun and fired, and the man flew backwards, screaming. He stepped over the body to find that his clothes were on fire. He smiled contentedly. So the new bullets worked after all, wonderful, wonderful. Absolutely brilliant. Another shot, another one bites the dust, yes yes. He laughed and shot again, killing another man. The screams filled the air, and he smiled maniacally.

"Whoah, hold on there buddy. Don't kill everyone in the building. Get out of there, pronto. If Marcus did what he said he was going to do, a team should be there any minute."

"I could kill them too."

"Okay, no no no. Bad idea. Get out of there. Now." Damien growled and started running, reloading his clip as he did so. Another guard appeared around the corner and a roundhouse kick quickly took him out. Lots of yelling, lots of confusion going on in his head and around him. A window. He raised the gun and fired, glass shattered. A jump and he felt the air rippling past his ears as he fell. He landed on a dumpster and staggered away. He looked at the glowing, pulsing device in his hands and then placed it on the back of his neck. He shuddered and his eyes flickered. The police yelled something in a foreign language he didn't understand. He closed his eyes and concentrated, and his face flashed blue before changing to that of a different man, a younger man with long greasy brown hair and glasses.

He walked away straight through the crowd of people and through the police force, the police blissfully unaware that the man who killed thirteen people in that bank was right beside them.

 

[TatlTails]

WELL HOT DANG. LOOKS LIKE PROPHET'S GOT SOME SERIOUS **** GOIN' DOWN. This really can't be good... But I vote to claim Adam an Ekaterina, for no good reason and it probably shouldn't even be in the fanfic but I still will think he is.

 

[*M i d n a*]

I want one of those canes, dammit. No, but seriously now, I like how this story is going, lots of action. God job, Myriad. Here is something I saw that maybe you can change if you feel like it, heck it might not even be wrong to your eyes/sense. (interested)

Malcolm and Astrid turned around, suddenly interesting. "Prophet is hitting a bank?"

 

[Myriadviper42]

This was originally conceived in a "procedural" format of thirteen episodes. Obviously that has changed some.

Chapter 10

Natalie Hunt returned to Control with a fair degree of caution. Katherine had been dispatched because Grant and Steven had suspected a possibility that she might have defected. They most likely wouldn't be too happy with the fact that she left a really obvious clue for Malcolm's men to follow. Fortunately, she had an alibi all worked out. She was planning to lure them to her. When they got there, they would either be killed by the bomb, or her. That sounded good, right? However, with Operation Moron (the official title now, Aamor even had it labeled as such in his records) in effect, Aamor was in charge. The man wouldn't know logic if it hit him in the face. She'd told him that one time and he hadn't responded positively. After that, she'd taken a book and printed the words logic on it, just in case. One never knew if it might come in handy.

She swiped her key card and the door slid open, and she for what seemed like the millionth time walked down the steel hallways that made up Control. She heard screams coming from the operation room. She passed by to see a disturbing sight, Theo Malik operating on a man while he was awake. He would feel all of it, until he finally told the scientist all that he knew. Then Malik would finish him off in some gruesome way, extracting his heart, or maybe liquidizing his brain into tubes like the Egyptians used to. The man on the table's eyes found her, and they made eye contact. She quickly had to look away, guilt ridden deep in her heart. This was not right. This was not the way it was meant to be. It hadn't started out that way. But, in the end, the bold arrow of time caused a change in the organization, corrupting it, destroying its morals. Marcus Trueman's mind worked in mysterious and complex ways, and she as a member of Prophet had to trust his judgment. He too, despite his callous disregard of human life, had something at stake.

She stepped into the main complex and saw the people milling about, talking, plotting, scheming. She saw Joseph Slater talking with her new handler, Steven Gardner, in all his greasy, smarmy glory. A real pig. She knew there was one painstaking similarity between Marcus and Malcolm. Both accepted anyone they deemed fit to help their cause. It didn't matter about criminal background, job, anything. Malcolm welcomed everyone with open arms, and she knew that some truly felt at home here. She didn't, and she was afraid that in the end she might view this place as home. She was reminded of this as she passed a bloodstain on the wall from when a completely insane prisoner had tried to escape Control. Trueman had pointed his cane at him and blown his head off. He'd kept the stain there, refusing anyone who tried to clean it. To some, it served as a reminder not to even think about desertion. For Hunt, it symbolized her trapped soul, trapped by an organization she'd joined to help people.

She reached the meeting room and walked inside. At the head of the table was Grant Aamor, obviously enjoying his new (albeit temporary) seat of power. Damien Byrne, Adrian Key, and Katherine Davidson all sat around him. Grant motioned absentmindedly for her to take her seat, and she did so, analyzing her colleagues' expressions, trying to figure out whether they knew anything. Key just looked bored, flipping a knife up in the air and catching it without even looking. Katherine looked cool and collected, quite professional, something Hunt had never been able to pull off. She'd actually confided in Hunt that she didn't believe what Malik was doing was right, which was quite taboo in Prophet. It was indeed a dictatorship, any criticism of the leaders would end in death. Damien, she knew, wasn't entirely stable but seemed to have a small, satisfied smile on his face. Dammit, none of these people were giving anything away. She would just have to see what the verdict would be, and hope that she wouldn't be killed.

Aamor cleared his throat. "It has come to our attention from Enforcer Davidson that you left a very obvious, very important clue in your motel room for Malcolm's agents to find. If you would care to explain yourself, that would be fantastic. Then we can decide whether to kill you or not."

Hunt gulped silently and then cleared her throat. "I know that it may seem rather suspicious that I left this clue for them." Adrian snorted in derision, and Katherine shot a glare at him. "I knew that that idiot Malcolm would send someone after me, so I decided to help them along the way. I was half expecting them to show up when I defused the bomb, but thanks to Katherine here that is no longer necessary."

"And you're saying," Damien said calmly, "that if you'd been given the chance to kill them, you would have done so?" He looked oddly eager for her answer.

She hesitated for a split second before replying. "Yes."

Aamor sniffed. The impression was that he had more important things to be doing, not discussing what-ifs about a possible rogue agent. "Whatever. I don't really care. If you do your job well, then I don't give a damn about the methods you use."

"Sir," Adrian spoke up, sounding indignant.

"Your opinion is unnecessary, Enforcer Key! You work for me!"

"Not for long," Damien said in a sing-song tone, a smirk on his face.

"You want to go, big boy?"

Damien chuckled and stared at him. "The question is, do you?"

Aamor started to say something and then stopped. The man wasn't very good at improvising arguments. He wasn't suited to be leader at all. About half the people in Control had bet that Trueman had put him in charge as a joke. Hunt decided to intervene before things got too ugly. "Boys, boys, you're both pretty, now can I go?" Neither of them responded. Finally, Aamor sniffed (a favorite gesture of his) and pointed towards the door. She mock-bowed as she left. Aamor was about to dismiss the rest when they got up and left without him even asking. He opened his mouth and it just hung there. Pretty much all his dignity was gone. He was just an annoyance, he realized. His mouth snapped shut as he furrowed his eyebrows, and knew in his heart that he would end up outlasting all those other suckers. He chuckled to himself quietly, and then snorted.

***

Malcolm has arranged for our team to meet for another mission. I've had a few doubts about that, considering how badly we were beaten last time. However, he seems to think that the circumstances were out of our control. Since when have the circumstances been in our control, again? Never? I thought so. So far we've been pretty much reacting to whatever Prophet's been doing. I suppose Malcolm has other groups taking a more proactive approach. We're not exactly the best group for the job. Which is why I've been starting to doubt Malcolm's intentions just a bit. This man seems to know a lot of stuff about Prophet, a little too much. It may be nothing, but one can never be too sure.

It's been a week since our failure of a first mission. I would've thought things would've been a bit more lively considering that we have the leader of Prophet in our base, you know, probably the most valuable source of information in the world? Is Malcolm that incompetent as to flunk an interrogation? Then again, he was a civilian...or was he? How did he find these people? How did he get these funds? No one else seems to be asking that question but me. A paranoid part of me thinks that this could be because they all know what's going on and aren't telling me. But I'm pretty sure they wouldn't do that. Pretty sure. Not all the way, still have a worm of doubt about it. In the end, I suppose it won't make any difference. Prophet is still the enemy. Malcolm, for now, is not. I sigh and calm myself. I have a bit of a tendency to over-analyze things that really aren't that big a deal. With any luck, this is one of those times.

Daren got out of the infirmary yesterday mostly ready to be put back in the field. Adamaris and Madeline are also ready. This doesn't seem like a team. It seems more like a fragment, like there should be something more to it. It is not complete. I've done some snooping around as to our actual progress regarding Prophet and in the five years this organization has been set up, we've killed a lot of their agents but failed to even get a hint of what their motives are. If they even have any. I can imagine them not having any at all, just doing it for the sake of being evil. A question I have for them. How can they think that what they're doing is right? They've killed, lied, and stolen peoples' lives away from them. And yet, from the files and from my encounters with them, they seem to fancy themselves as righteous people. It makes no sense, and I am determined to find out the truth. Is the side I'm fighting for in the right? Or am I just a pawn, manipulated by my emotions?

I enter the room. My three comrades are already inside. Adamaris and Madeline greet me with a smile, while Daren greets me with a grunt. He seems the same as ever apart from a bandage on his head. Madeline is twirling around a pen in her hand nervously, not saying a word. Yet another wordless encounter between us. Will the ice ever thaw? Or will we be doomed to an uncomfortable silence for eternity? I sincerely hope it's not the latter.

Astrid Lark's face appears on a screen on the side of the room to my right, and I jump. "Good. You're all here. Trueman has just supplied us with the location of a Prophet hideout. You're going to lead a force to take it down."

"Ma'am," I say calmly, "I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to be humble, but we completely botched the last mission, and-"

"I wouldn't expect you to be humble, Mr. Byrne. There is a reason why I have selected you four to lead this mission."

"W-where's Malcolm?" Madeline asks, her hands now neatly in her lap.

"He's busy," Astrid says coldly, disapproving eyes glancing around at all of us.

"Busy doing what?" Adamaris asks, kicking back his legs.

"That's classified, Adamaris Zuñiga. Don't be asking questions we can't give you an answer to."

Daren claps his hands on the table irritably, an ill-tempered scowl on his face. "Hurry it up already! You're like a bunch of old ladies!"

Astrid raises an eyebrow at him and his eyes widen in shock. "Oh, wait, wait, didn't mean it to come out like that...sorry ma'am."

"As crude as you are, Daren Gallows, you have a point. We waste far too much time talking. The reason that we're sending you on this mission is because, according to Trueman, Damien Byrne is in charge of the warehouse they're holed up in. We have snipers trained on them, they're pinned down, but they don't know it. Mr. Byrne, I assume you understand now?"

I clench my fists. "I understand. I'll take care of it."

She clears her throat, her eyes drifting around to all of us. "The ultimate goal of this mission is to weed out all the operatives and to capture Damien Byrne, dead or alive. I trust that you four won't mess up this time. You will be in charge of the operatives."

Adamaris stands. "No sir. We won't let him escape. We won't fail this time."

"You'd better not." The screen shuts off and the four of us look around at each other.

"You up to this, Daniel?"

"Are you kidding? The man who was my brother is gone. I'm ready to take him down." He grins.

"That's the spirit. Madeline?"

"I-I'm ready."

"Daren?"

"Meh."

"Daren," Adamaris says bemusedly, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, okay, I'm ready."

It all blurs together, getting in the car and heading to downtown Boston. It seems to both take forever and no time at all, and before I know it we're standing on the roof of a building, three snipers aimed at the warehouse. A balding, African American man is talking to them, gesturing emphatically about something before turning to us. "Ah, Adamaris's team. It's a pleasure. I'm in charge of this operation. My name is Elijah Sanford, one of Malcolm's senior officers."

He holds his hand out for Adamaris to shake and he does so. His eyes turn to me, and suddenly, he pulls out his gun and aims it at me. "I know every face in our files," he says, voice full of suspicion. "You're Damien Byrne."

"Easy easy," I say, putting my hands up in the air. "I'm his twin brother. I understand the confusion, got quite a lot of confusion having the face of one of the most notorious gunmen in the US at the time of his breakdown."

"Confirm your story," he says coldly, his gun not moving.

"He's clear," Daren says. "His name is Daniel Byrne. A real goody-two-shoes but not a Prophet agent."

Sanford's eyes soften and he puts his gun away. He extends his hand for me to shake. "Sorry about that. I wasn't updated about this team's status. Sorry about that, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared." I accept his handshake and flash him a forgiving smile. A common mistake. Often in the first few days after the shooting people would give me a wide berth, worried and confused that a man with the exact same face as a convicted criminal on tv was right there. I got used to it in the end, and it faded as time went on. Now I'm getting a sort of flashback to that period.

"It's all right," I say, "common mistake." Sanford nods and clears his throat. He turns to the warehouse in front of us and gestures towards it in different ways as he talks.

"You'll be leading a force inside. Most likely they'll hide and ambush you at the first opportunity, so you'll have to spread out in order to find them. Be prepared for quite a fight. The last time I made a mistake while fighting them, I lost an arm." He pulls up his sleeve to reveal a prosthetic arm. I can certainly relate, although the circumstances leading up to my loss of limb weren't caused by Prophet. A stray thought crosses my mind. Or were they? I have no idea, and I stow away that idea for now. Better to save that for when I actually have time to think about it. There's not enough time right now. He continues talking. "I'll be directing operations from up here. Any of them get into my snipers' range, they die. That simple. You ready for this?"

We all nod, and I'm given a pistol and a sub-automatic machine gun. I know how to use the pistol but I have no idea about the other one, so I just give it to Daren, who seems pretty happy about it. The four of us get into gear and I look out at the team we're going to be leading. An assortment of characters, from gruff and grizzled to young and slim. They all seem to know what they're doing; I can judge that from the way they handle their weapons. We quickly move on foot, guns in our hands, and I feel like I'm in a movie or a TV show. It doesn't feel real. We burst the door open to find the warehouse supposedly abandoned.

Adamaris takes charge. "All right, here's the plan. We're going to split up into two groups. Daren and I will lead one of them. Madi and Daniel will lead another. Are we clear?"

All of us show our understanding, and Madeline slips towards me, a pistol in her hands. She looks odd and out of place in uniform but the gun in her hands is very real and I can tell that she knows how to use it. She's probably done this before. It'll be interesting to see her fight for the first time. We separate, and Madeline and I lead our group through the warehouse, flashlights on and guns raised. None of us say anything. Madeline suddenly raises up her gun and fires, and there's a yell from the catwalk above us as a figure falls down, splattering on the ground. I turn towards her in disbelief.

"How did you...know he was there?" I ask, shell-shocked.

"I-I've done this b-before, y-you know," she says, sounding a bit colder than usual. "I-I feel n-no s-sympathy for t-them. L-let's k-keep moving."

About twenty paces later a shot is fired and one of our men staggers backwards and falls, blood flowing from his head. "Sniper! Get down!" I yell, and we duck for cover, but not before another one of our men is shot. I look at the bodies to see that both shots went straight through the forehead. I flash back in my mind, to when I was a teenager and I watched my brother at the shooting range, channeling all of his anger into it. Suddenly, I know who the sniper is. A voice rings out, belonging to Damien Byrne.

"Hello, brother. It's a pleasure to see you again. If you'd stand up so I can kill you, that'd be excellent." He laughs. I hear gunfire from the other side of the compound, and shouting. There's another shot fired and one of our men screams out, clutching his leg. He stumbles forward and another shot ends him. I crouch behind cover in silent shock. Three men just died right in front of me. "Madeline..." I say, my voice coming out as a squeak, "...what are we going to do?"

She, however, seems just as scared as me. "W-why were w-we put in c-charge?" she whimpers. "W-we're not t-the best l-leaders..."

I sit there, thinking. Why would we be put in charge when we're not as experienced. Was there a miscommunication? Or maybe, as the paranoid part of my mind has suspected, is Malcolm trying to kill us? I try to calm my breathing, and I look at my men. "All right, here's the plan-" Suddenly, we're cut off by gunfire, and I realize more men have joined Damien. He probably got tired of sitting there doing nothing. "Never mind! Just fight back!" I yell, and I stand up and fire. This is the first time I've ever fired a gun in the field, and it hits one of their soldiers in the leg. Sub-automatic fire is received and returned, and two more of my men fall. Madeline remains hidden, taking the risk of glancing up. After about five minutes, we're down to four men, including Madeline and I.

I can hear Damien's laughter from all the way over here. Madeline takes a deep breath, and stands up. She aims at a wire suspending some crates, and they fall between us and their men. "C-come on!" she yells, and we move forward. I don't think I can kill anyone. Not yet, at any rate. It just seems...wrong, no matter how evil the person is. Another sniper shot barely misses my leg, and we duck behind the crates. One of their men rounds the corner and Madeline shoots him square in the forehead. She shows no difference in her facial expression. "Requesting help!" I yell into the headset. "We're pinned down, all of our men are killed."

"We're on our way! We had to kill everyone here, the last guy took a suicide pill before we could capture him! Hold on until then, got it?"

"Of course!"

We hold out, shots being fired. I occasionally glance around and fire a few shots, just in case they get any ideas. After about ten minutes of waiting, Daren and Adamaris charge in, guns blazing. There are yells and screams, and Madeline and I emerge from behind the crate, firing shots off until all of them are dead. We storm through, searching for Damien. A shot fires, killing one of our men. I'm surprised at how calmly I can say that...and disturbed. I see a figure running into a room, and I motion for Madeline and Adamaris to follow me. We get through just before it closes shut and locks behind us. We move through, guns raised. I can hear the chaos outside. It does not sound pretty.

We hear a distinct tapping of a keyboard, and we turn the corner to see a man on a computer, who is not my brother. "Freeze!" Adamaris yells, and the man turns around. He is slim and tall, with shoulder-length brown hair and rectangular glasses. He has a smug smile on his face characteristic of Prophet agents. I recognize his face from the files. His name is Steven Gardner. He raises his hands in the air, still with amusement written all over his face.

"I know you people," he says calmly. "I know all your stories. Quite the tragedies we've caused, right?" I growl and we all step closer, guns raised. He continues talking. "You've all been introduced to us some way or another. Daniel, we blackmailed you to get what we wanted. I'm terribly sorry about that. Slater hates doing the dirty work. Adamaris...what can I say? Date a Prophet agent, face the consequences. And Madeline Black..." He chuckles.

"W-who are y-you?" Madeline asks, her face paler than normal. If that's possible.

"I was there, you know," he says, clearly enjoying himself, "I know all about your problems firsthand. You just can't seem to get a break, can you? Your parents...dead...your brother figure...dead...and I must say it was all very cinematic to be a part of. You've been running from us longer than anyone else in this room."

She is trembling now, still pale. "H-how would y-you k-know? W-we got o-our r-revenge. H-he killed a-all of t-the p-people who h-harmed u-us..." Her stutter is getting worse, and she's getting more and more agitated. I look back and forth between the two. Adamaris decides to take control.

"Enough talk!" he yells. "You're coming with us!"

"You never did know why we seemed so intent on killing your parents," Gardner said, as if there'd been no interruption. "I see no reason to oblige you of that. But you were mistaken in that your friend killed all of us. I survived. In fact...I remember your friend. He was full of bravery, or tomfoolery, depending on your point of view. He'd killed all of them and he told you to leave him. Make a new life. You left, and then I came out of the shadows and looked at him, and I felt a twinge of guilt. If he were to be treated for the wound, he probably would have survived." He pauses, and grins. "I shot him in the head." He sounds satisfied, and he laughs as she stares at him in a mixture of fury and incomprehension.

Adamaris looks around in fear, and attempts to take control of the situation. "That's enough! We're going to take you prisoner right now! You're coming with us, and NOT ANOTHER WORD!"

Gardner tilts his head, his hair hanging in his face. "Sorry. I have no intention of going to jail."

Something rolls under our feet and Adamaris yells "GRENADE!" We scatter, and it explodes. I slowly get up to see my brother with two pistols in hand, and a grin on his face. Gardner gets up and dusts off some imaginary dust before going to my brother's side. I yell and fire at them. They sidestep and return fire. Adamaris and Madeline are up and firing, taking cover behind desks, computers, and the like. Gardner quickly pushes the emergency exit open and my brother remains, a slasher grin still on his face.

"Go after Gardner!" I yell at Adamaris and Madeline, who are closer to the door. "I'll take care of my brother!" I raise my gun and fire, distracting him long enough for Madeline and Adamaris to get out the door. Damien looks at me bemusedly. We both have guns pointed at each other.

"How about we have a little wrestle?" he says calmly, throwing one of his guns to the ground. "Like the good old days. No guns involved. Oh, I'd always wanted to use a gun in those fights..." He chuckles.

"Fine," I say, and we both throw our remaining weapons to the ground before staring at each other. I make the first move, a good old-fashioned punch to the face. He sidesteps and gets me into a choke hold. I fall over backwards, taking him with me, and I get on top of him, punching and kicking wherever I can. A sudden pain in my face is attributed to his boot. I stagger backwards, and he presses his advantage by tackling me like a football player. He grabs me by the throat and I can feel the life draining out of me as I struggle to break free.

I notice my gun only a foot away from me, and I reach for it in desperation as the air is cut off from me. I grab it and fire. It doesn't hit him but it distracts him long enough for me to headbutt him and slam him in the face. I gasp and breathe heavily as I recover. I swing at him and he catches it before twisting it out of shape. He's furious, and is fully intent on killing me. I need to get out of here, so I do the only thing I can think of. I knee him in the groin, and a little squeak escapes his mouth as he falls over in pain. I run towards the exit and he stumbles around, cursing violently and frequently.

I stumble into the alleyway and am met by a figure that is simply standing there.

Not Adamaris.

Not Madeline.

 

[TatlTails]

HOLY CRUDMONKEYS. THAT WAS SO EPIC! Madi's backstory is finally revealed, I like. ^^ I loke very much. And even Adamaris got his backstory hinted! AND BRO ON BRO BATTLLLLEEEEEE! SO epic, and cliffhanger OMG THE CLIFFHANGER. I'M GONNA GO INSANE IF YOU DON'T POST THE NEXT CHAPTER SOON!

 

[*M i d n a*]

Yeah, I agree with TatlTails. It was a great update and many things were revealed. I like the whole battle and the final parts with the bro vs bro fight, that was cool and not one of them died. I suspect that in time both bros will pardon each other or something like that, but I can't be too sure of that. Good moments, post the next update soon, Chap.