UFO FanFic - Chapter 2

[Snikers]

Brute was halfway to the third floor, obviously going for the roof, when Fitz jumped and managed to catch the heavy weapons expert by his uniform's collar, yanking him downward. Brute didn't struggle to keep his balance but simply fell backward onto the squad leader, sending both of them sliding down the steps and back to the second floor. It was a matter of luck that Brute slid onto the plateau on his back, while Fitz happened to land on his feet.

Fitz was obviously up first, but Brute was already half-standing. Fitz took this oppoturnity to grab him around the collar and shoulders and pivoted; using his hips and legs to swing Brute around so that the top of his head smashed into an office door.

It was obviously unlocked and popped right open, Brute flying into a crowded office and sprawling on the floor. Fitz hadn't expected this and staggered, half off balance, for a split second before taking two strides into the room. But that split second gave the larger man the time to get to his feet. The squad leader had time just to see Brute's staring face - his earlier kicks giving him a sneer, as some of his lips had been torn from his face. Blood painted his teeth a dark red as Brute grabbed Fitz by the side of the head and brought his knee up into his gut. The squad leader, already weakened by earlier injuries, doubled over for the slightest of moments. He was already snapping back up when a foot came up and smashed into him.

Fitz was thrown backwards, arms flailing as he smashed into an overcluttered desk and everything on it fell to the floor. Various papers and objects rained about Fitz as he opened his eyes and saw it just a half metre in front of him.

A box opener.

Fitz snatched it off the floor, extended the blade, and jumped to his feet. He swung it upward and the point drew a thin line of blood up along the soldier's front. Brute, in return, pulled back his arm and punched. Fitz ducked to the side and Brute's fist flew forward, smashing through one of the glass windows overlooking the warehouse below. He swung his arm at Fitz, forearm slashed, and whacked Fitz in the cheek. Shards of glass embedded in the forearm cut at his skin.

Fitz backed off, but there was very little maneuvering room. "Gonna kill you," he whispered. His arm flew back and forth, blade slashing, and left crisscrossing bloody lines on Brute's face - to no reaction. Brute swung a fist at him but missed, inviting a stab into his armpit. Muscle trauma caused the arm to twitch, but nothing more.

The box cutter flew at Brute's throat, but his arm wrapped around Fitz's and yanked their faces within six inches of each other. Fitz struggled but couldn't move as Brute raised one fist and slammed it into his nose, shattering it instantly. Fitz cried out in pain, but it was cut short as Brute wrapped a huge, meaty hand around his throat.

Fitz's fingers twitched, but then tightened on the box cutter. He drew it back before slamming it into Brute's back, the thin metal blade cutting into the muscle. Brute's grip relaxed for a split second and Fitz tore free. He staggered back several steps, expression glowering, eyes dancing. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled, as he jumped forward and rammed his shoulder into the larger man's gut. Brute was pushed back a step before he slammed two fists laced together into Fitz's back, and grabbed him around the shoulders. Fitz's box cutter lanced out and danced upon Brute's body to no effect, as the heavy weapons expert lifted the squad leader entirely off the ground and slammed him against a locker, creating a huge banging sound. Fitz fell free, landed on his feet, and staggered. Brute swung a fist and it connected with the smaller man's jaw.

Fitz was slung around and slammed into a wall, right below a window. He threw himself upward into an upright stance just in time for another blow to smash into the other side of his face. He smacked against another wall in the tiny office and felt blood and teeth free in his mouth. He screamed in rage and swung around, driving a heel into Brute's gut. He followed this up with an elbow into the side of the traitor's head before bringing the box cutter down on the back of his exposed neck.

If it were any combat weapon Brute would have died then, but box cutters are not built for killing. The thin blade hit the skin and drew blood but slid along the neck, skimming along the side and down the flesh. Brute reached up and grabbed the hand holding the weapon by the wrist and held it there. Fitz tried to pull back but couldn't break the grip, inviting the other hand to come up in a fist and deliver a blow under his chin.

Fitz's head snapped back and he saw stars - he wanted to kill him but couldn't - and fell back against the locker he had hit earlier. He felt hands once again go around his throat, but not to strangle this time. Instead he was yanked to the side, and Fitz couldn't see, and where was he going -

The crest of Fitz's head was birthed from the window, out into the space overlooking the warehouse floor. A shower of glass sped ahead of him. Brute yanked him back, apparently planning to send him through another windowpane.

"NO" Fitz spasmed, flying out of the larger man's grip. His voice was screaming, but he wasn't even aware. "YOU KILLED DEET! YOU KILLED GOLDIE" Two mammoth arms shot out at Fitz but he managed to knock them aside, lunging forward, getting into Brute's face. He slammed into him, knocking the larger man back. "MY SOLDIERS! YOU BETRAYED MY TEAM" Brute's right fist came again and smashed into the side of Ftiz's face. His head snapped back and he kept his feet. "AND YOU - WILL - DIE!"

The box cutter shot out in a wide arc. Its blade shone. And its point hit the side of Brute's neck, dug into the skin, and led the rest of the way for the rest of the blade to cut deep into the flesh. It finally fell away and Fitz's momentum threw him forward, but even as his vision dropped he could see the result - Brute's face unchanged, but a geyser of blood shot up from the side of the traitor's throat.

A knee came up into Fitz's face. He staggered back, but Brute grabbed him by the collar. A fist came forward and smashed into his face, twice, thrice. Fitz managed to grab the fist in both hands and barely hold it at bay, eyes blinded by torrents of blood. His was lifted off his feet by the one hand holding his collar and slammed into the locker, the front crumpling under his force.

Red painted the ceiling.

Fitz was then thrown against a wooden chair. His head hit it, bounced off, and the rest of his body followed and hit it fully. It snapped and broke, falling to bits under his inertia. He slid along the ground, head going under the desk.

The ceiling was so pasted in blood that it began to drip off again, surface tension unable to hold the volumes.

Fitz was grabbed again and yanked upward. The back of his head smashed against the underside of the desk, causing it to flip over. A knee came upward into his back, slamming into his kidneys, before he was thrusted forward. His head blasted the wall and he hit the floor, room spinning.

He was picked up again, but the grip was weaker. Fitz tried to grope at the hands but he was slung against a wall, back first. He fell into a sitting position and could only stare upward at his many attackers. But they were stumbling.

Fitz wiped the blood out of his eyes. Brute's skin was deathly white and clammy. He reached for him with one hand, fingertips blue, but it seemed to stick in midair as the heavy weapons specialist swayed back and forth. Fitz saw blood pump out of the slash on the side of his neck, but it wasn't the spurting fire hose it was before. This dribbled, like there was no more blood left.

Brute stood stock still for one second before he finally crashed to the floor. Fitz pulled himself over and straddled him, sitting on his gut.

"MURDERER" He screamed, stabbing the box cutter downward. Its point dug into the front of Brute's neck, punching through his still windpipe.

"KILLER" The cutter came down onto the chest and had enough. Its blade snapped off. Fitz threw it away.

"DIE" A punch smacked Brute's silent face. "DIE" Another punch against a corpse. "DIE"

Finally the radio crackled, after how long Fitz didn't know. He snapped out of his trance and eyed the comm still strapped to Brute's chest. He saw it had been damaged, proabably from an explosion. Static was hissing - it could barely pick up anything and probably couldn't transmit. He put it to his ear to make out the most he could.

[Bomb Bloke]

The barely audible static resolved into voices. Fitz, who looked like he'd gone through a meat grinder, could barely make out the voices. He certainly couldn't place them.

 

"Eryun in?"

 

"Ah"

 

"Rap! Isc! Go go o"

 

Suddenly, the entire building started to vibrate, as the SkrRanger started to lift off. Hovering nearby, the remaining Cyberdisc hovered, firing at it repeatidly.

 

All Fitz knew was that he was been left behind. Instinct made him reach for his own radio - which wasn't there. Brute's radio then ceased to function altogether, static hissing into a whine then finally nothing.

 

Legs feeling like lead weights, he started to run towards the roof.

[Hankosha]

Hankosha looked at Jasper and nodded.

The Skyranger slowly hummed to life.

Deet dead.

Duchante Dying.

Fitz dead.

Brute a traitor.

Frankie dead.

The agony of it hit him all at once.

He yelled out in pain and in sadness.

Someone reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Hankosha? you alright?"

"not really. Rarely have I lost a friend or a comrade. The pain of doing so is agonizing."

Hankosha put his head into his hands.

"It's my fault Deet is dead. If I had been faster, and hadn't gone back, I might have saved her."

"You can't change the past, so try and change the future."

Hankosha reached into his backpack and pulled out the alien pistol, examining it.

Quite similar to his pistol. It was slightly bigger, but looked almost identical.

"No need for the scientists to take a look at my unlucky pistol." Hankosha muttered silently to himself.

He tucked the pistol into his holster, hoping for a chance to redeem himself against the aliens.

He turned an watched the rear hatch slowly closing.

[Snikers]

Jasper turned away from Hankosha and looking into the cockpit of the transport. "You better get us out of here fast, Doc"

"I know, I know," mumbled Doc, eyes flitting apart. His fingers wrapped around the controls. "Just let me close the door, okay? Just give me thirty seconds - "

That was when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it. The white disc, speeding over the rooftops towrads him. He had just enough time for his eyes to widen before green lanced out and rained on the side of the plane.

Jasper flung himself out of his seat, green eyes panicky. "No waiting! Get us out of here, now, get us up GO"

"I'm trying" Doc cried, yanking on the controls. "Stop yelling at me"

"Don't wait for the hatch to close"

"I get that! Thank you very much"

The engines screamed as they were suddenly gunned, VTOL propellers bursting into full strength. The Skyranger lurched upward, off the rooftop, but unsteadily, dipping. Doc fought to bring the armoured transport under control, and still green attacked the side.

Jasper fought to keep his balance as the entire plane bucked. "Get us out of this line of-"

"Hey, shut up! Are you a pilot?! So shut up! Sit down and shut up"

"I'm just - "

Doc turned around in his seat, face twisted in anger. "SIT! DOWN! SHUT! UP"

Jasper sat.

Doc yanked the controls to the side, trying to throw off its aim. Any loose objects flew against the wall but the craft was clear of the burning swath, for a second. The craft continued to fly sideways, clearing the building altogether and going over the street.

ohmygodohmygodI'veneverdoneanythingevenREMOTELYlikethis Doc actually dropped the plane, several tonnes of Skyranger dipping into the street, getting the top of the warehouse between them and the disc. In a desperate move Doc stayed in the low altitude, wings barely brushing power lines on either side of the wide street, turning a corner and putting the warehouse directly behind the plane.

"Why did I look in the back of the plane! WHY" Doc wailed.

 

``````````

 

"YOU IDIOTS" Fitz's weary feet pounded against the floor, toes touching just barely before they lifted off again. He hit the stairs and flew up, reaching a point where there were no more in seconds. He saw a door and slammed into it, kept going forward as it popped open and he fell into the night.

And the Skyranger was leaving. He watched as it fell below the building and out of sight.

"YOU IDIOTS! YOU - YOU IDIOTS!" Without thought Fitz sprinted forward, running for the ship, trying to reach what had left without him. He was only distantly aware of one of the murderous discs to his right, barely conscious of the way the roof exploded around his feet green lightning bolts only barely missing him.

"YOU LEFT ME BEHIND---" Fitz hit the edge of the rooftop and leapt.

 

``````````

 

Jasper heard something outside and turned his head. The hatch was still closing and he could see an ever shrinking view of the outside world. He glumly looked outward, and could see when a screaming bloody human figure came into view.

Brute, he thought, and his lips turned into a sneer. Goldie and Deet and Fitz and now us - He pushed himself off the seat, keeping his balance in the swaying craft, and lifted his rifle. And I'm going to get him out of our hair for good.

As his eye peered through the x1.5 scope everything left larger. The bloody fabric was already in his sights, but he raised the rifle higher. He was going to put one single bullet through his traitorous head -

He saw the face.

Fitz.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Through the ever closing hatch he saw as the captain - looking like he'd crawled in and out of hell and been hit by Satan's pickup halfway - left the roof's edge. He soared through the air, a perfect missile, inching forward in slow motion towards the ship. His arms and legs flailed almost comically, reaching for the ship - and then, Fitz still flying through the air, he saw as a green bolt - two bolts - three - five - no less than nine flashes of burning alien death zipped by the captain, behind and in front, each missing his head and torso by a margin of centimetres.

And then me made it. The gap in the hatch was under a metre wide when Fitz finally hit it, smacking the lip and flipping over, a bleeding burnt bruised battered human mass flipping into the Skyranger and hitting the floor, sliding effortlessly the length of the craft before finally colliding with the far wall.

Hank had a pistol out and was about to shoot the captain when Jasper grabbed his by the wrist, yanking the gun upward. Hank fought for a split second before he saw what had in fact entered and froze in shock.

"What was that?" shouted Doc, as the jet gained speed and started to left.

"Fitz," croaked Jasper. It took a second to shake off his trance and run to check the captain's condition.

[Bomb Bloke]

Fitz managed to raise himself into a sitting position, head back, eyes closed. Exhaustion finally managed to overcome adrenaline, and seconds after he'd arrived in the craft as a bloody missile, he was asleep.

 

The two other soldiers knew little about medical practise, and after a short inspection of the squad leader, decided they didn't know where to start. The three wounded men were still bleeding, but they were also still breathing; they decided to leave it at that.

 

They sat in the craft, saying nothing as the craft proceded - at a more leasurely pace - towards the base. They had received no more fire after losing the CyberDisc.

 

Jasper had a thought. "What about the tank?"

 

"What about the tank?"

 

--------------------------------------------

 

They soon passed the Osprey, carrying squad 1 to the terror site.

 

The first squad had been detailed on the condition of the area. Dead troops, dead civilians. They were not looking forward to the landing zone.

 

As the units slowly spread out, it became evident that the enemy forces were no longer present. The HWP was found not far from where it had last been seen. It appeared functional, but it's reciever equipment had been totally destroyed by one of the many plasma bolts that had hit it.

 

Civilian corpses littered the area. The area had been roped off by the bewildered police, and some questioning of them revealed that the alien craft had left.

 

There were no alien remains left behind, with the exception of the charred remnants of CyberDiscs.

 

"Perhaps," mused Ping, "the greys aren't strong enough to move them?"

 

What there was to recover, and the corpses of the fallen soldiers, were hauled into the Osprey. It was just as the craft was leaving that the chinese national army finally made it to the scene, and by then all that was left were craters and corpses.

 

------------------------------------------

 

The med bay had been empty, with the exception of Rubenstien. Even Ki-tat had recovered a week ago, and Ross had been discharged from service with his injuries. Now it seemed crowded as various orderlies marched around, replacing blood and giving treatment to the badly wounded soldiers.

 

Sandy lay in his bed, unconcious and with an oxygen mask covering his face, while Tammy attempted to extract the bullets from his chest. Unlike the other squad assigned medics, especially Howitz who had been in medical training for a very short time, she was one of the most experianced surgeons in the base.

 

Gaston was in worse shape, moaning and periodically thrashing in his bed as if with fever. Anesthetic soon brought him under, and another medic started to work on his devastated shoulder.

 

Fitz was a scene of contrast. He sat upright in his bed, cleaned of the blood and even the splatter of molten metal on his face. His teeth had been reset in his jaw - he'd never spat them out, never noticed they'd been dislodged, so they weren't hard to find. Scratches and scrapes all over his face and the loss of half an ear, plus an intravenis drip completed the picture of what should have been a wreck of a man, but he sat alert, almost managing to look... refined. Inside, his mind boiled. He'd started to ponder the idea of alien mind control, concerning Brute. Smatterings of rumour had come in from the other two missions, but he hadn't believed the aliens held any real mental power. But the way his team had just crumbled... Even his own actions didn't make much sense to him, in retrospect.

 

Whether it was the aliens or a rogue traiter he'd fought, he'd do it all again. And that was a definitive, too - the hell they were going to take his planet down.

[Hankosha]

The Skyranger arrived back at the base.

The sides were partially melted, and some wiring showed through the holes in the sides.

The Cyberdisc had done a hell of a job on it.

Hankosha half limped down the walkway, dropping the pistol and potato-thingy in a box labeled "Equipment."

He push the thoughts of the battle into the depths of his mind, and proceeded to the debriefing room.

He heardyelling coming from inside.

"Miserable failure..."

"Didn't Expect..... So soon....."

"Countries......Unpleased...Funding"

Hankosha turned back to the Skyranger.

It was not a pretty sight. medical personnel were carrying the dead and the wounded from the ship.

The word betrayal popped into Hankosha's head.

The voices from after the battle screamed at him, but he pushed them away, if only briefly.

Hankosha reached to his neck, again forgetting he no longer had the charm.

His hands grasped nothing.

A man wearing a black suit and tie walked out of the Command Center, yelling.

"You'd better do better than this next time, or you won't have another chance."

The man slammed the door and walked away.

The door to the Command room opened, and the Commander came out, looking ragged and tired.

The uninjured members of the team went in, and were debriefed and sent away one at a time.

Hankosha was the last to talk to the commander.

"You caused the loss of one X-com soldier, and almost caused the death of another."

"Yessir."

Hankosha replied solemly with a slight hint of grief.

"On the other hand, you recovered alien weapons and caused the death of an alien."

The commander looked Hankosha in the eyes and continued.

"Next time, I want none of your Lone wolf Crap. You'll kill either yourself or someone else."

Hankosha nodded.

"Well, that will be all."

Hankosha saluted and walked out the door.

-----

Though the kid had potential, he was bound to get into trouble.

Genega shook his head.

He'd keep his eyes on this one.

-----

Hankosha returned to his room and picked up Icarus.

The voices that had been shouting at him seemed to fade and dissapear.

He looked himself in the mirror

"Nathan Jacobson. Hankosha."

He spoke out loud to himself.

He looked back to the bed where his room-mate had once slept.

He shook his head.

How many more would die to save humanity from destruction?

How many more would die to save humanity?

How many more would die?

How many more?

How many?

How?

Hankosha looked at Icarus, then back at the bed.

He needed his charm.

[Snikers]

"Stump"

Jennings whirled, eyes wide. The new guy - Ghost, with the broad shoulders and big eyes, not to mention his constant manic attitude - was at the end of the hall, and sprinting in his direction. Ghost stopped at his feet and, seemingly untired by his run, waved his hands about randomly. "Stump! Stump, stumpy stumpy stump. What oh what are we gonna do with you."

Jennings twitched, frowning. "What?"

"Jeez Louise, Stump old buddy old pal. Can't stay away from here, can you?" Ghost's whirling right hand shout out and pointed at the sign over the closest door, the left still whirling with manic energy. MED BAY, it read.

Jennings's mouth worked impotently for a moment. "That was an accident..." he started lamely.

"Oh c'mon, Jennings, you just want to stay with the nurse. Nurse. Sexy nurses, huh?" Ghost gave a bark of maniacal laughter. "Psychological, can't stay away. See the med bay as a spot of security, perhaps even a replacement for the womb, yes? All - " Ghost tapped the side of his head, " - in your head."

"Is that what Freud says?" the smaller man mumbled.

"Freud says you wanna get in your mommy in a different way. Freud's like that. What a guy, that Freud. What's that?" The last bit of Ghost's rambling was accentuated with his left hand pointing behind Jennings. The smaller man turned curiously and then darted to the side, as three stretchers were wheeled past and banged through the door of the med bay. Jennings recognized two of them as from Squad Three, and inexplicably one from the Second as well. Jennings didn't even have a chance to speak before the entire group was inside the med bay, moving at a frantic pace. The door swung shut.

"Wonder what that's about," mused Ghost, suddenly very serene.

[Zager]

"Initiating testing sequence, let's see," said one scientist, looking at his clipboard. "Power levels are steady, all readings are within acceptable bounds of error. Let's initiate."

 

"Going to phase one," reported a technician, flipping some switches on his control panel. "Taking pre-experiment readings now... logged. Information uploaded. Going to phase two."

 

"Initiating apparatus readings," stated another technician. "Information ready to download. Moving to phase three."

 

"Phase three," said the scientist. "Commencement phase. On my mark, go. Mark."

 

The technician pushed a button, and the barrel of a pistol mounted on a robotic arm glowed, and then, a microsecond later shot out a golden beam that lasted for a very brief period of time, but during that time, it blew a large chunk out of a target dummy. It fired several more times.

 

"Shutting down," reported the first technician. "Uploading readings now. Phase three complete. Entering phase four."

 

"All readings are norm," shouted the second technician. "Power levels constant, coolant levels steady, barrel integrity at one hundred percent. The experiment is a success."

 

"Excellent," said the scientist. He made a few notes in his clipboard, and snapped it shut. "Inform command that we have a viable prototype of the laser pistol, and we are ready to move on with full scale mass production."

[Bomb Bloke]

Genega sat at his desk. It was not looking to be a good day. He stared at the caleneder clock on his desk, idely spinning a pen between his fingers.

 

January the 31st.

 

The month had been a tense one. A surprising amount of soldiers had been killed, and the aliens had been quite adept at combat, despite their aparent physical weakness.

 

A busy schedule was lined up for the day. The soldiers were to meet early in the morning, to be briefed by O'Riork about what was known about the aliens. Then, he was to divide them into new groups. He didn't know how they would take that, but it had to be done, the teams were in a shambles.

 

And he certainly wasn't looking forward to the meeting that was to come after...

 

Ah well. One thing always brightened him up. He flipped the casing off one of the many buttons built into his desk, and slammed his palm down on top of it. The morning wake up alarm blared out across the facility, at least an hour early, and the howls of anguish floated back to his office as the recruits rose from their slumber.

 

He picked up the intercom. "Good morning, everyone. All soldiers are to report to the meeting hall in the next half hour. I report, meeting hall, half an hour from now."

 

When the duration had passed, a small crowd had gathered in the hall. Genega stood at the front, watching the stragglers come in with a disaproving glare. Once the head count added up, he moved to start the meeting. But then another recruit came in. Genega looked around the hall again, counting the soldiers in his mind. Then he spotted the extra, Fitzwilliams, sitting near the back.

 

What's he doing out of med?

 

He gave a mental shrug, and started the meeting.

 

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I've called you all here to display the results of our research, once again. We won't be covering any new gadgets, instead, we'll be showing you exactly what we know about the aliens."

 

He motioned for the bioscientist, Seamus O'Riork, to stand from the front row, and to come up and begin his presentation. He then sat down himself to watch the show.

 

O'Riork stood at the front of the crowd nervously rubbing his hands together. This really wasn't his sort of thing. A couple of lab assistants wheeled in a tray, on which was fully intact Sectoid corpse - one of the few live ones, which had later died of natural causes.

 

Well, more natural then weapon fire.

 

"This," he gestured, "is the enemy. Um... It is a small alien lifeform, about the size of a child, which closely resembles a humon."

 

He contiuned to ramble on, frequently pausing for uhms and ahs. Most of what he said was farily obvious - it was weak, but agile, and had good vision. Feet stirred restlistly as the crowd grew bored. Then he started on a more interesting subject.

 

"Um, there has been some, uhm, talk, that these aliens may have psionic abilities."

 

He paused again, and flexed his hands against each other.

 

"While there is no scientific evidence to suggest that such as this is possible, it is indeed the case that the aliens brain, while also being larger and more greatly developed then a humans, may have other functions then the normal human mind. In fact, ah, it would seem to be the case, that, ah, this lifeform is of the same intellect as a bright human. The extra development could therefore be attributed to other, that is to say, mental funcations."

 

He stood there for a few secondstrying to avoid the gaze of everyone watching at once. It was difficult without turning around.

 

A voice piped up. "So, are they physic?"

 

He took a deep breath, but then seemed to think better of his statement. Another pause. "That remains to be seen. However, ah, I would recommend that you not only take notice of your surroundings in combat, but, uhm, also the state of your minds. If you feel strange, mentally, it might pay to indicate this to your squad leaders."

 

He stood in another pool of silence, while the assembled digested this concept. Some took it in their stride. For others, it seemed to confirm their suspicions. But for most, the idea of psychic powers seemed way out there.

 

The scientist started to talk again. "There has been sightings of another alien unit, but it is not believed that it is alive. It would seem to be a flying saucer, being a large floating disc the size of a washing machine, though it moves too slowly to have any real travel capabilities. Reports suggest that it is heavily armoured, as well as armed, so no unit should attempt to engage one without backup."

 

Genega arose, and waved the scientist back to his seat. "Thank you, Seamus. That was very interesting."

 

He moved to the front again, while the corpse was removed, and began the second stage of the meeting.

 

"As you may all have noticed, we've gained some new faces, and, indeed, lost some old ones. While it is unfortunate that the squads will probably continue to flucuate, we don't need to let them get so messy."

 

He caught one of the soldiers' eye.

 

"Tamara. After squad 1's initial mission, you requested an extra field medic to accompany the squad, on the basis that one is not enough. Howitz managed to snag that role, but you're losing him for now. One thing that we will take into consideration is the idea of giving all units better medical training, instead of relying on dedicated units."

 

The projector beside him fired up on queue, displaying three lists of names.

 

The display read as follows:

 

Squad 1

Rick Chez

Jack Thomas

Tamara Hillard

Tim Day

Ed Dodge

Martin Terrick

Greg Conner

Bob Jennings

Ki-tat Chung

Isaac Rubenstien

 

Squad 2

Hiroshi Escalante

Kilam Chung

Karl Green

Cleo Andrews

Christel Keller

Bernard Dujardin

Norton Wexford

Gaston Duchante

Jack Donovan

Johann Ibsen

 

Squad 3

Alexander Fitzwilliams

Nathaniel Jacobson

Igor Zhandovich

Paul Jasper

Jack Howitz

Rocio Lee

 

"As you can see, some of you have moved places. You will now take up the training schedules of your new squads, if that is the case. Squad 3 is still undermanned, but our recruitng agents are even as we speak finding new personal to take up the slack.

 

That will be all."

 

He didn't hang about to answer questions, but rather strode off to his office, to prepare for the evening's meeting. Half way down the hall, a scientist stopped him.

 

"Sir. The research for the laser pistol model has been completed. We can now mass produce it."

 

Genega beamed at him. "Is it anything like what Zager predicted?"

 

A nod. "It is a weapon which can be fired nearly continuosly for several days, with no noticible power loss."

 

"Organise the production of ten models, then. Order any materials required, and assign any engineers who are not already busy."

 

"Ah, sir. While the pistol model is powerful, our research could now be easily continued to create a rifle sized model. It would offer better accuracy, as well as having better stopping power."

 

Genega shifted his weight and thought. The alien artifacts that had come in seemed promising, but no one could predict how long it would take to devine their operation. Field reports about the weapons had revelealed the had immense power, but they weren't just a point and shoot job. Pulling the trigger just made the guns whine.

 

He needed a definite schedule of results.

 

"Alright. Continue with the laser project. Once the rifle model has been completed, send someone to me for further direction."

 

Another thought struck him. "I just had the whole garrison in the meeting hall a minute ago. Guess I'll have to drag them in there again tomorrow, to show off this pistol. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

 

He stepped around the other man, and continued towards his office. He still needed to prepare for the afternoon's meeting.

[Snikers]

"Are you sure? He sounds like he was pretty badly wounded, from what I heard. I don't think he's been conscious."

"So we'll just ask if we can see him."

"And if we can't?"

"Then we can't. What are they going to do, shoot us?"

"I suppose you're right."

"He is our teammate after all."

"He is."

 

* * *

 

Green and Keller stopped in front of the door to the med bay. Keller was about to open the door when she noticed someone round the corner down the hall. It was Hankosha, dragging his feet and apparently in the midst of some introspective thinking. He'd been looking rather down ever since he came back from the disaster of the terror mission, and whispers and mutterings could be heard from all about the base. Apparently he'd dropped a ball or two in the mission.

"Mouse?" Green was halfway through the med bay's door. "There a problem?"

"Not really."

"After all the arm-twisting you pulled on me, you'd think you'd be a bit more eager..."

The two entered the med bay, which seemed to be - at this point - quiet. Green intercepted the doctor on duty. "Yes? - one of my squadmates - "

"Injuries are all over there," drawled the doctor with a bored expression on her face, and pointed a finger to one corner of the room before walking on. Green looked over at Keller, who shrugged.

It didn't take them long to find who they were looking for. He was unconscious, bandages across his chest. Blond stubble adorned his chin and he breathed deeply.

"Gaston, Gaston, Gaston..." Keller mused, as Green crossed his arms over his chest in a familiar brooding fashion. "Your two Canadian teammates here and you can't even insult their French."

"I don't think he can hear you."

"No."

There was a moment of silence.

"He was always gloating about his toy," Green muttered.

"He thought he was superman." Keller added.

"He actually said he was the best guy in the squad, once."

"He never had respect for anyone."

"He insulted my shooting."

"I don't know what was more insulting - that he tried to woo almost every woman on the base, or that he never even tried with me."

Green looked Keller up and down, then turned back to Gaston. The two watched as the soldier gave a sharp cry and lifted himself off the bed before flopping back down, like he was in the middle of a battle a million miles away.

"I really hope he recovers soon."

"God, yeah."

[Bomb Bloke]

The SkyRanger touched down in it's bay, bringing with it one of the small groups who knew anything about the X-Com projects. The council of funding nations.

 

The craft had been equiped with a much different interior design then was it's norm. The huge storage compartment had been divided up into comfortable booths, each with a number of comfortable chairs inside. It was still a tight fit, but as first class as could be managed.

 

Doc flipped the switch which opened the ramp, before jumping the full distance to the ground from the cockpit. He headed straight for his room. It had been a long flight, at low altitudes, and he wanted as much sleep as he could get before he repeated it in a few hours.

 

The hanger gradually filled with various people in suits. Many of them were obvious diplomats, stretching their joints and yawning loudly. Others took no such liberties. Even in a place as secure as this unknown base, the bodyguards were on full alert.

 

Jenny Graham stood by one of the doors of the hanger, near a cordoned off pathway that lead to the meeting room. She handed out temporary passcards as each person made his her way past, giving each a chery smile.

 

Eventually, the meeting room was filled. Seats were only provided for the diplomats, but the guards preferred to stand anyway. They each stood with their backs to the wall, creating a second layer of wallpaper.

 

Genega sat at the head of the table. He rose, and the meeting began.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Pine Gap." He cast his eyes over the assembled, before moving towards the projection screen at the front of the room. It flicked on, displaying a the first UFO craft that X-Com had intercepted - a floating disc.

 

"Since the beginning of our operations, we have had four encounters with the aliens. This is the first of these encounters. This craft was spotted in the Madagascin area, where it landed in thick jungle. We deployed our units in the area, and they soon made contact with the aliens. The aliens made this contact, hostile."

 

He paused, looking around the room again. All who were here had already had a short breifing of X-Com's exploits, with the exception of the guards. Most wore dark glasses, but those which didn't could be seen casting an occasional eye at the screen.

 

"Our ground forces took slight casualties, however, we were succesful in neutralising all of the UFO's crew. Some aliens were taken alive, however, they died shortly after."

 

One person spoke up, "Battle wounds, I assume?"

 

"No, the aliens simply do not seem to operate in our enviroment very well. We have actually caught other specimins, but they all seem to die of lack of oxygen. Well, I say oxygen - it would seem they prefer different gases to us. But, I digress. We were unalbe to move the entire UFO as it was while maintaining secrecy, so the craft was diss-assmembled before we returned it to our base."

 

The visual changed to display another UFO. this one was visibley smaller, and looked like a small cone.

 

"The second UFO that was spotted was this one here. Unlike it's larger cousin, it did not land on it's own. We attempted to 'persuade' it with our own craft, however, it displayed massive speed capabilities, and we haven't seen it since.

 

The display changed again. This craft looked like an X.

 

"This is the third craft, and we succeded in hitting it with our weapons. It took some sustained fire, but eventually landed in some Italian farmland. Luckily, the owners were away at the time, and we were able to acquire the remnants of the craft."

 

A forth ship loomed on the monitor. Unlike the first three, this one was shown over populated territory, and it was huge.

 

"This craft you will all have heard about, at least, the affects it produced." Genega's expression had hardened, as had most of the faces in the room. "This craft, unlike the other three, which we believe to be scouts, we dub the 'Terror Ship'.

 

The display changed again.

 

"You can see why. Of the forces we sent into the city, only half of them survived."

 

The display flicked again, this time showing one of the captured Sectoids, before it had died.

 

"This is the enemy. Although they are small, and quite vulnerable to our weapons, their own weapondry makes them formidible."

 

Another change. This time, one of the HWP camera shots of a Cyberdisc appeared.

 

"They also have miniture flying saucers, which are devastating in tactical combat. In fact, these are the things which allowed the force sent to the chinese area to achieve such a victory over our forces.

 

In order to combat the alien menace, our own researchers have been working heavily on projects to give us the edge. One of these, for example, is a fully operation rocket tank. Powerful as it is, it is also small. It can go many places the standard combat vehicle cannot. We have also created a new line of laser weapondry, which while still in it's early phases, will hopefully allow us to better combat the enemy."

 

Genega put both his hands down on the desk in front of him, nearing the end of his pitch.

 

"We are constructing two new facilities, and we will also be increasing our scientific and manufactoring staff. These expansions are required to allow us to effeciently cover the entire world from the hostile alien threat.

 

However, these things cost money. Each of you has already allocated a budget towards our project, however, I urge you now to increase that budget. It has become very obvious that the aliens are not a friendly race, and removing their threat is no small undertaking."

 

The door opened, and several guards whirled around to face it, hands reaching into jackets. Jenny came in, carrying a large bundle of papers under her arm, which she proceded to hand out to all seated, ignoring the ominous back ground crowd.

 

"These forms can be used to help you adjust your funding detais-"

 

Genega was very nearly cut off, by the loud sound of the chinese official slamming his paper into the desk.

 

"You come to our city, allow the aliens free reign, your own soldiers take pot shots at our civilians, and you want more money?"

 

The commander was stunned. Frankies' rampage had never been reported to X-Com forces.

 

"I assure you, our forces-"

 

"Your 'forces' are incompetant, and a menace! You will not be recieving any greater payments from us, my friend, and indeed, those payments you do recieve will be decreased! If I had my way, you would recieve nothing at all.

 

Your 'forces', as you wish to call them, I feel need to be watched. To this end, the chinese goverment has sent one of our own agents to keep watc-"

 

Genega now slammed the desk. "That is unacceptable! We will not accept agents from any-"

 

"Oh, but you will, commander! And indeed, you already have. You signed the papers for this soliders transfer just this morning, if you remember"

 

Genega subsided into his chair, thinking quickly. "You're agent is simply to fight along side our soldiers, correct?"

 

"That is correct."

 

"He will not have any further access to any X-Com research and knowledge. Is that understood?"

 

"That is acceptable, however, she would probably prefer to be referred to correctly. Allow me to introduce her..."

[Zager]

"Agent Rocio Lee, reporting for duty, sir," she stated, as she stepped into the room on cue. Standing at six feet, two inches, with black hair, Lee conformed to very few stereotypes. She seemed friendly enough, but there was a hard glint to her eyes, the glint of a killer, as any soldier would recognize. She was dressed in a Chinese Army Uniform, with a series of medals and other awards visible on her chest.

 

"I've been fully briefed on your operations, sir, and I look forward to taking part in this multinational attempt to protect civilians all across the world," she continued. As well as keeping an eye out on Chinese national interests, she privately thought to herself. "But please, don't let me interrupt your meeting. I'll officially report for duty once you're done here."

 

Saluting, she stepped out of the room again, to wait for the meeting to conclude.

[Hankosha]

"Samuel Johnson also known as ...Shades"

Shades looked around the bulky vehicle, and popped out of sleep.

He walked next room, and nodded, then walked out.

He had heard rumours of this place, rumours of ufos, and secret units.

Ah well, Life had thrown him a curveball, but he had made four hundred thousand through his original recruitment.

He waited for the meeting to conclude, then glanced at the lady next to him, and walked out of the transport.

Looking around, he looked for the man who had spoken to him.

The man was wearing a uniform he'd never seen before, with strange pips.

Shades saw it fit to salute.

"Samuel Johnson?"

"Yes."

"I'm commander Genega. Welcome to X-Com."

The commander handed him a military-style uniform a map.

He pointed to a man standing nearby.

"That's our Security officer. He'll show you around."

Shades looked at the officer, and took an immediate dislike to him.

Perhaps it was instinct, but he already had a bad feeling about the man.

The security officer offered no name, but Shades read his nameplate, which said something like Pickerel.

"Well, Pickerel..."

"Pickereing."

Shades continued, pretending not to hear the security officer,

"What do we do here at X-com?"

Pickering did not speak until they arrived at the barracks.

He handed Shades a key, and said,

"Talk to one of the soldiers here. They'll tell you what this is all about and show you around."

Pickering walked away, quietly laughing to himself.

He had placed Mr. Johnson with Hankosha, unknowingly puting him with an old friend.

He felt pity for Johnson.

Shades looked at the key in his hand and walked over to the door.

-------------------------------------

Hankosha was sitting on his bed, carefully trying to fix one of the wires in his still-broken laptop.

Though his other one was fine, he had had nothing to do and was testing himself to see if his old manual dexterity had deteriorated.

Suddenly, the door knob turned, and the door opened.

Hankosha reacted.

He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and hurled it.

Shades entered, and the knife was at head hight, an inch to his left.

Shades turned his eyes back to the thrower of the knife, and spoke,

"Hankosha?"

"Shades?"

"I thought you were dead"

"I thought you were dead"

Both spoke at once in unison, saying,

"What are you doing here?"

They both laughed, and Shades layed his gear on the second bed.

Hankosha turned to him and smiled.

"Well buddy, It seems you've got a lot of catching up to do."

[Bomb Bloke]

Genega relaxed into his office chair. The meetings were over for the day, and now he could finally put his feet up.

 

And then the alarm siren began again.

 

Movement started all over the base. The Commander flew out of his office, nearly flattening the scientist walking by outside, as the soldiers and aircrew made a dash to their positions.

 

He reached te command center in time to see the two Hurricanes reving their engines for takeoff. He took a glance at the linefeed, from whatever source it came from, detailing the UFO.

 

It was another terror ship.

 

"It would seem," he said to himself, under his breath, "that we've pissed them off."

 

Shortly after the two fighter craft had left (with Gia and TJ at the controls), the Skyranger was ready for take off. The last man in was straggling. Chez gave him a surprised look from his seat.

 

"I thought you got moved to squad 3, Howitz."

 

"I did, sir. But, I'm the only explosives expert on his feet at the moment, so... I get to go with you guys."

 

"Don't sound so enthusiastic. Explosives expert is beginning to look like a doomed position in this organisation."

 

Howitz simply grinned back, and hauled his pack around so he could re-arrange the hastily packed contents. He'd had his standard issue uniform and armor dyed black, as had a few other soldiers, and it's rugged design, along with the various pockets crammed with explosive material, made him look much more heavy-set then he actually was. He'd left most of his demolition packs behind, on the basis that the terror ship was likely to attack another populated area, so the grenades on his person made way for the medical supplies he now carried in his pack. All of this equipment got much more attention then the single pistol he had in his side holder; as far as he was concerned, if it had ammo in it, it was ready.

[Alitorious]

"I feel like I'm in Star Trek here," commented Rick. Currently he and Jack Thomas were being given a crash-course in laser pistols by Dana. One minute earlier, she had burst in the doors, clutching the base's full arsenal of laser pistols - all two of them.

"I've heard about this antimatter stuff," said Warlord, "and it isn't something I want to have anywhere near me."

"Not antimatter," explained a short-tempered Dana, "antiphotons. If it fired antimatter, it would have to annihilate all the air between you and the target, and you'd end up getting a couple dozen terrajoules of energy." Terra- as a prefix meant times ten to the power of twelve, or one with twelve zeros after it, and denoted a very large number. That is comparable to that of a small nuclear bomb.

"Antiphotons," she continued, "diffract around the air in the way and hit your target with nearly all the photons that leave the gun, so you don't need to use as many. Not that our technology is sufficient enough to generate that many at this time, anyways..."

"Miss," interrupted Chez, "we do have a mission to go to, you know. Just tell us what we need to know." Nearly every person in the hangar was glaring at her with impatience - especially the ground crew that tried to stop her coming in and got threatened with a ray gun in answer.

"It's a ray gun," Dana said sarcastically. "The safety switch is here, and this switch will switch it between single-shot and automatic. The capacitors take a fraction of a second to recharge, so that's its firing rate. Firing is simple. Point and shoot. There's no recoil, so watch for that. Oh, and this dial will change the power output in case you need to, I dunno, roast some marshmallows or something." The indicated dial was currently set to maximum.

"Saftey's here, point and shoot. Got it," repeated Thomas, taking and studying the better-looking of the two pistols. It had an futuristic looking shape and an almost ergonomic looking grip. The other was the prototype, and had a harsh and angular shape (not to mention that it looked -and was- welded together). Dana didn't tell them that the prototype's antiphoton generator had a slightly lesser output than the other one, which had just come off of the production run.

"Anything else?" Rick Chez asked exasperatedly. He had received the uglier laser pistol. Behind him the heavy weapons platform was waiting to troddle onto the skyranger ramp.

"Yeah." Dana decided that she'd leave them with a sour taste. "Don't worry about the radiation - it's less than going to the dentist's."

 

----------------------------------

 

"Ow, ow, owowowowow," complained Daniel.

"Just shut it," retorted the nurse treating his bloodied nose. It had been smashed by the commander's door swinging into Daniel's face as he was unluckily passing by.

"Dust by luck," he said sourly. "Birst we sbed weeks sduck on dis one broblem wid de moshun dracker, den we all ged reasside because ob it. Dow I ged hid in de nose by a door."

"Listen," snapped the nurse. "I'm not your mother, so stop whining at me. You're lucky everyone else doesn't need treatment right now, or I'd ignore you."

"Sorry."

[The Veteran]

"Dammit now we're gonna be first off this damn tin can" said Rick as he and Warlord piled back onto the already departing Skyranger. The tank was already loaded onboard and as soon as both men had one foot in the door the floor disappeared from beneath the other.

"Yeah but check out the gizmos... I'll bet you I could write my name with this thing" Warlord turned his pistol over in his hands with a look of childlike marvel.

Rick looked at his and nodded. "You know I bet I could probably use this hunk of junk to write with..." He hit the wall a few times with his pistol then carved a line down it with one of the more angular welds.

Warlord chuckled as he watched Rick sulk and patted the tank beside him. It was still scarred from it's last terror mission but most of the damage had been repaired, or at least patched he hoped.

The worst thing about this part of a mission was that you never knew where you weregoing until you were already half way there. The pilot just followed the interceptors and waited for a message from Tactical Command saying 'turn around boys, it's in the drink'! Or rather that's what they always wanted to hear, it just never happened...

 

"It's in the drink"

"Yeah too much of it..." said Gia sighing.

"No seriously, there's got to be something in the water to bring this on..."

"Do you have to go on about it? You're a big boy now, you should have learned to go before we leave rather than realising you need to pee over an ocean somewhere."

"Dammit why don't they think about stuff like this when they make airplanes? I mean, who's to say we're not going to spend a whole 24 hours in the air, recon or something..."

"Look, honey, if you want to attempt to relieve yourself now then by all means go ahead but you and I both know what G-force can do to a man, let alone to his little friend dangling out the side of a supersonic fighter jet"

"You're not helping at all, that just makes me want to go more"

"Look if you don't stop whining I'm going to do something to you far worse than G-force could ever manage! Now quit it"

Trigger crossed his legs and kept his thoughts to himself for a while. He knew when not to push any more and Gia was a woman on the edge. Still he had to give her credit, she did a far better job of tolerating him than anyone else ever had!

Just as the silence was beginning to get to Triger a message came through to both pilots over the comm.

*Interceptors One and Two this is Tactical Command. We're sending you the latest sattelite scans straight through from the Pentagon's GEOSCAPE, adjust your course to suit and double to your target. It looks like the President himself is sending the memos on this one so we need to perform 200% ok?*

"Sure thing TC, tell the Prez that Trigger said hi"

*Delighted as he is bound to be on hearing such news I think we have bigger fish to fry right now. Just get on with it and get it done! TC out.*

"Well, that was pleasant..." said Trigger as soon as the channel was broken.

"To be fair they do have a point..."

"Damn right they do, I don't care how many Americans that guy knows, he'd love me more than all of them"

"I'm not debating that but unlike you some of us are actually working right now... This saucer is heading for the east coast... It looks like..." Gia froze. "Washington..."

[Snikers]

Stump's red rubber ball ascended, hovered, and fell back into his light palm. "We're still going to be able to keep our bullet guns if we want, though, right?"

"I don't know. We're the best in our field, so I suppose we'll be able to choose our own weaponry if we want," murmered Terrick. The rest of the team had already figured out he was highly intelligent despite his introspective demeanor, and Jennings nodded.

"Good. I don't want to be tied down to these."

Dodge looked over, mouth twisted into annoyance at Stump's familiar and, to him, extremely irritating downbeat tone. "And why exactly do you not want the most advanced guns?"

"Besides being uglier than sin, of course," commented Rick, running a thumb along each edge on the boxy ray gun.

"Possibly because they sound like the most finicky weapons I've ever heard of? What we're basically talking about is a laser gun. That's technology much more delicate than any purely mechanical rifle. So much as smear the lens and it stops working. Not to mention that it's so situation specific. A laser beam is light - obviously - so anything that stops light is going to stop it. Take that gun into rain or fog and those antiphotons are going to go off as soon as they leave the lens. I'm glad I've still got my rifle now, actually. We're going into snow. Probably on the ground now, but it may be snowing - or even just a wind could mess that thing up but good."

Stump's red rubber ball traveled upward again, fell into his palm, and continued doing so for several seconds before he noticed Dodge and a few others of the crew were openly staring at him. "What? Am I just comic relief to you people?"

[Bomb Bloke]

The two Hurricane craft speed towards the UFO as it continued it's straight course. Although it wasn't moving overly fast, the X-Com craft had a large distance to cover to reach it.

 

Grizzly watched the display from back in the base. He wasn't one to put competition ahead of his job, but he did catch himself thinking that TJ wouldn't get to down this UFO either. As it stood, X-Com had only taken down one alien craft - and it had been him, Davies, who had done it. There was no way the two fighter jets were going to cover the distance in time. His brow furrowed. The SkyRanger was even slower in the air. How long were the civilians going to have to manage without X-Com ground forces...?

 

The city of Washington was in uproar. The alien craft had reached land, and was being displayed on just about every television channel as it floated slowly towards the center of the capitol.

 

Doc sat in his cockpit, watching the video feed on one of the extra displays. The soldiers were startled when the intercom came to life.

 

"The UFO's reached the city now. It's gonna be up to another half hour before we make it, and I've been told the army's gonna try and hold them back until then. I'd guess the craft is more of a transport then a fighter, because it isn't blasting buildings from the air... But I still think they're gonna cause a bit of damage before we get on site."

 

The soldiers sat in silence for a minute. Then Rick reached for his shoulder reciever and spoke into it.

 

"Do you think they'll be ready to leave by the time we arrive?"

 

"Most likely not. They aren't on the ground yet, it looks like they want to land near the White House or something."

 

Howitz looked a little confused, and reached for his own radio.

 

"I was talking to the other guys in my new squad, right? According to them, you didn't drop them off near the UFO. They couldn't even see it. Did you see where the thing landed?"

 

"It actually flew off a small distance and sat in the air. When I made the pickup, I saw it fly back down into the city."

 

"Ah well." Howitz shrugged, then looked at Warlord, sitting besides him. "We'd better swap seats. I'll be trying to throw some of these smokers out when we land, and it's gonna be fun enough swinging them past that tank."

 

"What was that about the ship, Howitz?" the man asked, as the two tried to move around each other in the cramped area.

 

"Well, it seemed strange that the UFO wasn't near the aliens last time. I suppose it makes sense if they took off again. I wonder if it works by some sort of autopilot, or if an alien stays in the ship? I was really thinking that the Osprey crew could go after it if it landed while we kept the main forces busy, but it doesn't look like that's an option."

 

He fell back into a seated position, and near silence resumed.

 

Terrick was seated next to Rick. He sat watching him look glumly at his boxey laser weapon.

 

"You know, if you really don't want to use that, why not just use your rifle instead?"

 

The other man looked up. "They took it off me. I wish I'd thought to keep it. They really wanted these things tested, though."

 

"Well... You could use my rifle."

 

Rick looked at him like he was mad. "And what will you use? This thing?" He waved the hated laser pistol in the air.

 

"I don't see why not. It looks simple enough to operate, and I can handle a pistol just as well as anything. Really, I'm just interested in trying something new."

 

"You just want to get into my good books, don't you." Rick looked at him with mock suspicion. "All right, here's how it works..."

[The Veteran]

*Dammit we're never going to get to this thing before it puts down!*

"Calm down Gia, if we can't get to it then we can't get to it, we can't go any faster than we can go"

*If they land a terror attack right in the middle of Washington how long do you think the war's going to last then?*

"Come on honey we still have time, besides they could have landed a million times by now if they'd wanted to. They're looking for something and I'm not entirely sure they know what."

*It's all down to us, don't you get it? If we screw up, that's it! Over!*

"Look, I'll talk about this later but right now we need to concentrate. We're only the first line of defence, we're not superheroes! That's why there's a second line of defence! Now stay with me if you can... I'm going to try and go faster than I can go."

 

 

Back on the Skyranger Rick was still fighting with Terrick's shoulder strap, trying to detach it from his donor rifle. "You would think that after so many years I would have got the hang of things like this wouldn't you?"

"No." said Warlord matter of factly.

"It's not the same as your own weapon is it? It just never is..." Rick finally yanked the strap free bringing one of the loopholes with it. He put it to his shoulder and aimed at the landing ramp, feeling the butt of the weapon for the score marks he knew weren't there. He sighed, what was a kill if you couldn't feel it.

Warlord shrugged vocally and produced his own rifle from nowhere in particular. "You need to learn to say no" he said grinning and stroking his own weapon.

"You just love winding me up don't you?"

"You know it" replied Warlord relaxing for the rest of the journey. Rick did the same and felt the eyes on them instantly. He kept his own closed and soon drifted off to the not quite gentle hum of the engines.

 

 

They were however quiter than the roar passing over Southern Washington. Trigger had tried every trick in the book to gain that little more speed but it was little help. They were still gaining speed but were also still out of range.

*We're not going to cut it,* said Gia over the radio. *We're getting too close to the centre.*

"I'm going to try something..." said Trigger uncertainly. Gia could here it in his voice.

*Why do I get the feeling that if this doesn't work it's going to be the last mission you ever fly?*

"Because you're a very bright young woman. For an American I mean" Gia could feel the grin over the comm but it still didn't settle her nerves.

"Look it'll be fine, I've done a lot of crazy things in the past and I always have a job to come back to. Look, Gia... They need me... Now more than ever. This will work, I promise."

Before she could respond the communication ceased and Trigger locked the channel. Left in her own silence all she could think was 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

In Hurricane One Trigger had activated almost every manually operated system in the aircraft and was learning fast. Selecting one of the Interceptors larger Avalanche missiles he switched to the targetting camera and cancelled all seeking systems.

Switching to autopilot Trigger settled into the PC Gamer stance and took firm grip of the joystick.

"Here goes nothing..." he said uncertainly, squinting slightly as he released the first missile...

[JellyfishGreen]

The command centre was in shock at what they could see of Trigger's actions - the missile was tearing ahead of the two jets towards the descending UFO. "His missile's out of range, even for a Stingray. The failsafes will detonate it short of the target."

"Unless he's disabled the failsafes - that gives him about 10% more range - twenty miles, give or take - "

"- over a populated area. He's not crazy enough for that, is he?"

 

The deadeye shot was good. The targeting systems kicked back in after the system reboot, and with fractions of a second of fuel remaining, the proximity fuse finally triggered. The explosion made the UFO rock. It slowed and prepared to stand its ground as TJ and Gia roared in on afterburner.

 

The dogfight was brief. The UFO got off two plasma beam shots, both missed, but by then both interceptors had gotten within proper range and locked on two missiles each. The rapid succession of impacts sent flame and energy crackling out of the UFO's disintegrating hull.

 

The careening wreckage of the UFO veered into the flight lane of Ronald Reagan International Airport, scaring several pilots and air traffic controllers. It tried to stabilize and hung for a long moment in the air before another explosion signalled the demise of its stabilizing coils and it slipped towards the Potomac River. With an almighty eruption of water the hull plunged into the river and quickly sank out of sight, leaving a long stream of bubbles and strange debris on the surface.

 

Admist the cheers in the control room, one of the Doppler radar operators took a long look at his screen and then waved for Genega's attention. "What is it, Jason?" Genega's voice cut across the din.

 

"That second anomaly, the one that we thought was an echo of UFO-5 - it's still around. Officially designating UFO-6." Genega hurried over. "They're trying to slip one past us in the distraction! What's the little weasel doing now?"

 

"He's decelerating, sir." The operator moved his mouse and placed a marker on the wallscreen map. "He's landing in Virgina, within twenty miles of here."

"Virginia? What's there?" Genega snapped at the room in general.

"Lots of snowy woodland?" suggested the Doppler operator. "The CIA?" suggested Jenny.

Genega scowled and pointed at Lt. Forrester. "Get on the horn. Get our boys in there."

 

The Skyranger's comm squacked again, seconds after the report of the terror ship's demise.

"Squad 1, divert from crash site. Locate and investigate landed UFO-6. You have weapons-free authorization."

[Bomb Bloke]

The SkyRanger turned in the air, and moved towards the new nav point displayed on the radar. The two Interceptor craft soon followed suit.

 

"Ok folks." Doc's voice rang out of the intercom. "It seems TJ managed to down the bandit into the Potomac River. You're not out of it yet, though - there's another grey craft on the ground in Virgina."

 

Howitz stared into space with an incredulous expression, and spoke as if thinking aloud. "Wasn't that UFO kinda... big... to fight in a city? It didn't land on, like, buildings and stuff?" He shook his head. "Well, if they didn't believe the Chinese about the aliens, it's common knowledge now. Heh. Let's see them write this one off as some cover-up story..."

 

The craft soon arrived at thew new destination, and the alien craft was visible in the snow. It sat on a small hill, slightly raised above the surrounding trees, none of which retained their leaves in the cold climate. A distance away, Doc could see another craft, also grey in color, but mostly obscured in the braken.

 

The intercom spoke again for the last time, as the wheels lowered and the craft came to rest. "Ok, guys, this one's cross shaped, an it'll be a some distance away on your left when you bail out. We've got double company this time, it looks like there's two ships down there, but I didn't get a good look at the second one. Watch it."

 

The ramp opened, and the tank started to slowly tundle down it. The area was suddenly obscured as the first stun grenade exploded, and the tank became a dark shape slowly moving away from the craft.

 

Good thing it isn't sinking in the drifts yet, thought Howitz, as he tumbled down the ramp and to the side. Last thing we need is to have to dig the thing out.

[The Veteran]

As Squad One filed out of the skyranger, the two interceptors circled overhead like eagles, just waiting for something to move.

 

From so high it should have been easy to see both craft and the skyranger but a heavy mist was concealing most of the surrounding terrain. It cleared in the Hurricane's wake but was quick to reform on their departure.

 

"Gia, can you see this second ship we're supposed to be fighting?" Trigger called through his comm.

*I can see it on the low level radar map but it's unclear from here. Doesn't look like the other one though and that's for sure. Looks more like a second Skyranger than anything...*

"I must say you're taking this very well..."

*What?* replied Gia uncertainly.

"Usually when I do something you've told me not to you won't talk to me for days."

*There's a thing called professionalism, we're still on the job...*

"Ah... So you're not taking it all that well after all then..." mumbled Trigger switching to a comm to the skyranger.

 

"Doc, it's TJ how's it looking where you are?"

*Not too bad but I can't see much, there's a ground fog as well as what you've got up there.*

"Well I think we have some good news for you. Gia says it looks like the other bogie down there is the kind you can't throw away... Says it looks like another personnel carrier, or at least more human than the other ship here."

*Really? That's a shot of good luck at least. I'll tell the guys thanks TJ*

"No problem but tell them to keep alert ok? It's strange that we weren't expecting them but they're here anyway..."

*Yeah it is...* said Doc killing the link up. *Very strange...*

[Alitorious]

The tank left the cover of the smoke, then moved its turret around three hundred and sixty degrees. Meanwhile, about fifteen thousand kilometers away, Pios Alparada, aka Slice, was watching the status of the heavy weapons platform on two screens. One screen showed a myriad of telemetry and AI status. The other screen was a real-time view of the onboard camera. The camera view was turning to a light grey very fast as the mist rolled in.

"Slice to Squad one. I couldn't see anything, but this fog moved in damn fast."

"Roger that, Slice," responded Ping. "What can you say about the terrain?" If they weren't being shot at right away, they might as well take their time. As the past two missions attested, they needed to fight smarter, not harder.

"From what I can remember, it's flat and open to the east. There's a couple bushes or something there. The Skyranger is about parallel with some woods to your left. They aren't that dense. Fog was already too thick to see much else." That was the direction Doc said the euphie was, Rick knew. It was about half a click away, and from what he knew the aliens rarely ventured that far away from their ship.

"Slice, I want you to scout around the open fields, keep our backs clear. All fireteams, move out. Team one will head straight for the euphie, team two will flank from the left, and team three will circle around to the right and come from behind. El-zee is cold, let's move it."

Rick and Howitz were the first off the ramp, disappearing into the already fading smoke. Walking forward, they could only tell when they left their smoke cover by the changing scent. Jennings, Ki-tat, and Conner were part of team 1. Team 2 was Thomas, Hillard, and Day. Dodge, Terrick, and Howitz made up Team 3.

"Visibility about forty metres," Howitz reported. This wasn't good, Rick thought.

The rest of the squad left the plane. The ranger would stay where it was - landing again in this fog was not on Doc's fun-things-to-do list.

The squads cautiously pressed forward, eyes scanning for anything. The snow wasn't too deep, thankfully, however it still crunched noisily beneath their feets. The sound combined with the open space and the fog, and left the squad feeling exposed, which was never a good feeling for a soldier.

Soon the brooding shapes of trees could be seen through the mist. Rick fought the compulsion to run for the cover and instead kept moving as quietly as possible with the snow.

 

Somewhat near him, Jennings was thankful that it wasn't too cold. Their jumpsuits were warm, but frozen ears and fingers were never -

Everyone in squad two jumped as sounds of plasma shots resonated from their left, accompanied by flashes of green. Conner actually dove to the ground, but the shots weren't aimed at their group, but instead at Team two to the left, just at the edge of sight.

"Contact! Gold team" crackled the voice of Hillard through the radio.

Painfully bright gold-coloured flashes then came from squad two's direction, and Jennings looked in confusion. Was that the laser pistol? he wondered. Tim Day's voice then came through.

"Enemy down! I got 'im." The silenced MP5 shots were completely inaudible to anyone not in Team two.

"I hit him with the laser gun, but it didn't kill him," Warlord said. "The fog must be doing something to it"

 

Back at Pine Gap, Photon was trying to figure out what happened.

"Ahh," he aired to anyone who was listening, "the fog must be diffusing the beam too much, although some of the beam is absorbed by the fog. The end result is that the laser just seems to have a shorter range in the fog."

Slice relayed the message on the comms to the squad, then continued monitoring the tank. In theory, its software should be able to take orders directly from the squad leader, but they didn't want to risk it yet. So far, it looked like none of the aliens strayed from the thicket.

 

Back with the squad, Terrick memorized the tip. Limited range in fog, eh?

 

Team 2 had reached the edge of the trees, and was looking down at the bullet-ridden sectoid. One thing that was apparant was a large burn mark on the center of its chest - the laser worked, but the beam wasn't concentrated enough in the fog.

[The Veteran]

One down, thought Rick. That's always a good sign. But the problem seemed to be with these guys, that they just kept on coming until you reached the last man standing scenario. That's not a game that anyone liked to play, especially now he thought with these lasers involved... Rick never had liked technology much, especially when he didn't understand it and that covered quite a large scope of technology!

 

As all three squads continued to wind their way towards the forest, and inevitably to the ufo, the weather continued to impede them. A light wind had begun to whip up snow but not so high as to effect anything more than the soldiers' nerves. The fog seemed to continue inside the wooded area that squad one now stood beside and although the trees beyond would provide cover they seemed less than inviting nonetheless.

 

"Ok, we're still a good few pushes away from the badboy but we don't know what to expect for now so everyone tread carefully. Use the trees as cover but don't hug them, these bugs are smart, they know how we move." Rick checked his rifle and the rest of his squad instinctively did the same.

 

Pulling at his comm Rick tapped in a channel to the Skyranger and interceptors while he surveyed the snowy scene around him. "Doc, guys, what have you got for me on this second craft?"

 

*I got nothing here,* replied Doc promptly. *Only reason I know it's there is because I've been told it is. TJ?*

 

*I'm looking at it now, I've been able to get a few captures of it but nothing clear. It looks like an old Soviet jet if I'm honest but it's got no markings so it could be anyone. I definitely wouldn't rule out terrorists but I don't know what they would hope to achieve here.*

 

*I've seen it somewhere before, but I can't place it* said Gia when TJ had paused. *I have a pretty good feeling about the Eastern news broadcasts after that first terror attack. They showed a good few shots of rescue craft that seem to fit the bill but I wouldn't take that as gospel mind...*

 

"Well to be honest I am tempted to." said Rick. "I had a bad feeling about this all along. If Gia's right then these guys probably aren't stupid enough to still be wondering what it was that destroyed half their country. I also imagine that if that's the case they won't be here to help us... Thanks guys we'll tread gently... well more gently. Keep those eyes open for us ok?"

 

The three pilots chorused an acknowledgement and signed off the comm. Every so often the two interceptors would make a brief dive to clear the mist temporarily but the risk of exposing their own troops was becoming too much to risk as they closed in on the two, apparently both hostile craft.

 

"Ok listen up all squads. We're looking for foreign military uniforms, possibly dignitaries, possibly soldiers just keep on your toes. If you see them do not call out to them and do not open fire. I repeat, any non-confirmed targets are neutral until proved otherwise. The greys, well they can go to hell."

 

Rick replaced his comm and got his on squad ready to move. "I hope you gentlemen brought your snipers eyes with you today. I want you all frosty as the ground you're stood on. We make a beeline for the UFO, take out any greys, observe any... others. This ship is ours guys, noone elses. Lets move."

 

On Rick's left flank Warlord and squad two were similarly eager to reach cover and would already have been significantly closer to the ship than squad one were it not for their flanking orders. Squad two had been moving in bursts from cover to cover then checking their new location.

 

Squad three was slowly but surely moving in the same motion as warlord's team but to the right of the UFO. They'd approached it more tightly, more directly so they were closer to it than the other squads and could already see the ship's location. There was no sign of the other hip they'd been warned of and as of yet no more hostiles had been spotted but Terrick, Green, Howitz and Dodge were feeling extremely insecure abou the whole deal.

 

The UFO was in a small clearing which seemed to make things worse. The final approach would have to be done in clear view of anyone or nything watching at the time. Howitz had crawled out of the wood slightly to the refuge of a nearby snowridge, a perfect spot. Removing his webbing and placing his rifle beside him he proceded to disappear into his surroundings and then, reached for his grenades.

 

Warlord continued movingaround the ships left flank, still moving wide in a hope to discover the mysterious second craft they'd been told was in the vicinity. Finally, just as Howitz was primed and ready Tim Day dropped down by his squad and whispered feverishly for the two others with him to follow. He checked his weapon then sidled over to Warlord and gestured to a dark grey patch in front of them to the left.

 

It was exacty what they'd been told it was but there were still no signs of activinty anywhere near the craft or around the squads new position. "Hey Rick," hissed Warlord into his comm.

 

"What's up big guy? I don't hear anyone dying over there."

 

"This ship we're looking for? We can stop looking for it... But," he hesitated. "Rick, do we actually have any idea how long this hip has been here?"

 

"Well no not really, we didn't pick it up until we reachd the landing zone. Why, what're you thinking?"

 

"It's dead Rick, there's noone here. Doesn't look like there has been either if I'm honest with you. Did anyone ever think that maybe this UFO is on a salvage mission? It would explain a lot don't you think?"

 

"Hold that thought a minute ok? But keep your guard up just until we know." Rick switched his comm back to the interceptors. "Gia, TJ you getting any readings coming from these ships?"

 

Gia flicked through some displays before replying *Yeah, no vital signs but both ships seem to be working. Looks like pretty basic operations but there's definitely life in them somewhere.*

 

"It couldn't be abandonned then no?"

 

*I doubt it, you ever left a light on in one of these military transport types? It won't last a day I swear. No, if that ships been abandonned it's happened less than 3 days ago tops. Besides this weather would be your biggest clue. Just take a look at how deep it is, that's where your answer will be.*

 

"Ok Gia thanks. That's pretty much what I was expecting to hear." Rick changed channels again and spoke with Warlord "Hey Jack. No go on the Mary Celeste theory. We reckon it's still operating some basic systems or other. Try to cover any entrances you can see but no green beret stuff. We don't need a commando right now. We need answers. You're on your initiative for now buddy, be careful."

 

Rick stowed his radio again and looked back to his front again. He was staring at the target of their quest, the UFO was less than twenty meters away and there had still been no sign of any more hostiles. A flash from their right brought squd one's weapons to bear on a small snowcovered earthwork but a torch wielding Green was soon made clear in the mist. Rick called squad three over and the eight men now lay together facing the ship's entrance.

 

"This is it guys, if our intel isn't being screwed with then most if not al of the hostiles and whoever else is here should be inside one of these two ships. My moneys on this one so this could be it very nearly over." Rick brought up a map of the ship they were facing on his HUD and displayed it for the rest of the team.

 

"We've seen one of these before so we know what to expect. We've never dealt with one peronally though so it still could surprise us. Now listen up for your roles... Squad three, you're on guard outside the door. Dodge, Terrick, Green, cover the entrance from wherever you feel confident you can. Howitz, we'll need you and your grenades to bust up any meetings we're late for so when the door opens you'reup ok? My squad, Conner, you'll come with me, I'll go in first. Ki-tat, Jennings, you pair off too then follow us in. Howitz once we're in you cover the entrance from the inside but don't give away our position so keep that door still."

 

Rick looked around the seven men before him, some of them didn't look ready for this at all but the ones who counted did. Howitz was rolling two HE grenades like stress balls and probably couldn't have hidden his anxiousness to use them if he tried. Terrick looked ready but Rick couldn't help but stare at the laser he'd traded him. Jennings recent near death experience had hardened him up no end but Conner, who called himself ghost, seemed as pale as he should do. He didn't look scared, just concerned...

 

"Ok guys, this is what we've been training for and I know you're all ready to do it." Rick slapped a hand on Conner's shoulder and was relieved when he didn't jump. "Squad three, get to your positions, evryone else, you know the score. Let's do this."

 

As Dodge, Green and Terrick each found their own personal spot, Rick gripped his rifle and pressed his back to the wall beside the entrance to the UFO. He went over the entry in his mind and watched as Howitz settled into place in front of the door. Conner was pressed againt the wall across from Rick and Ki-tat and Jennings were both ready to file in after them, all going to plan.

 

Rick took a deep breath and looked down at Howitz waiting for him to return the gaze. "It's your call Jack..."

[Bomb Bloke]

Howitz nodded in return, then did a quick check to see that all available muzzles were aimed at the door. The area had been quiet so far... But the aliens would have to be deaf to not know they were there by now, and there was bound to be one on the other side of the door. There were a lot of ways this could go wrong. He'd been feeling conspicious since he first hit the snow - wearing black perhaps wasn't the best of ideas - and sitting right in front of the door didn't help his nerves either. He was close enough that he felt any sudden movement would open it. But standing up would quite possibley repeat Ki-tat's adventure, and he didn't think he's survive that. He swept some loose snow into a small mound in front of him incase his grenades were a little off target. It wouldn't help much, but still...

 

"Ping... Conner... Count of three, wave your rifles in front of the door."

 

He counted aloud, shifting one grenade to his left hand then priming both. "Three"

 

The two guns were shoved in front of the door, then jerked back to an aimed stance. The door flipped open near instantly, with hardly a noise beyond the crack of fused ice. Howitz sent the two exposives into the ship then hunched himself down to make himself as small a target as possible, barely having time to see the Sectoid directly in front of him become filled with holes as the rest of the squad opened fire.

 

He counted under his breath as the gun fire continued. It was mere seconds, but... "Down! Get down!"

 

As if it heard him, the door suddenly fell as fast as it had risen. It barely reached the ground, however, before a couple of hollow thumps were heard from the inside. Going by the diagrams he'd seen of this type of craft, that'd be the end of anything in the entry area. He stood, rifle now in hands, allowing the door to open a second time. Yup, it was clear - he couldn't even tell how many Sectoids had been in there anymore. He took a step back, allowing the rest of the squad to file past him.

 

Terrick also stepped into the craft. "There's less fog in here. I doubt this handgun will be much use out there, so I'll watch for strays from the inside."

 

Dodge nodded back, and he and Howitz settled back down into the snow as the rest of the team moved inside.