On some unknown rooftop ~
Dore - "Jesus Fuck will you hurry up." He draws and fires his pistol down the stairs.
Ghost - Unpacking his rifle parts into assembly, looks up at sky in a world of calm ... "One sec." Continues.
Dore - "Just ... o fuck." Pulls the other pistol and charges in with a death roar.
Ghost
- Setting up the barometer ... picks it back up and polishes the glass
with his shirt, places it back. Adjusts it a bit. "Yep."
Dore - Flies from the door behind Ghost's adjustment of the scope. Stomping back he pulls the shotgun from his back. "Fuck this shit." Loads.
Ghost - Polishes the lens, "You got that door ?"
Dore - Firing down the doorway, "I got your fucking door." Still firing until something grabs his foot and pulls hard, sending the shotgun flying. "Ghost !"
Ghost - To the sound of a beating, "Yep." He peers into the scope ...
Dore - Suffering greatly, "Take the fucking shot !"
Ghost - "Okay." A calm exhale, he takes the shot.
Stands and begins the disassembly back into the briefcase. Dore commando rolls from the door and grabs the shotgun,, He opens fire again before it's grabbed by the barrel, pulling him in by the strap.
Dore - "Ghost !" Is he getting kicked now maybe ? Hard to say what that sound is.
Ghost - Closing the case, "Yo."
Dore - "Did we get him ?"
Ghost - Walking through the door, "We got him." The door shuts quietly and locks behind him.
~ Biological Weapons ~
That'd be the Sheridan tank's engineer, working hard on the overcooked engine over the suited man all tied up and black bagged on the crowded floor, banging around on all the hard corners as they bounce.
Which would explain all the private police following them, in vehicles that actually 'achieve speeds'.
Gunner - "Tow."
Gunner and loader - "Whoo !" As the cars following tumble to a blockage before the bridge ahead.
Engineer - "No way."
Driver - "I wanna make the boom."
From the jeeps outside - "Too Soon ! TOO SOON !" The bridge crumbles behind them a splash of a tank in a river.
Voiced over the last shot of the suit ~
Libra - "How many dead ?"
Chief - "The news averages it around 10,000, for what that information is worth."
Joe - "But it exists."
Emilio - "The lock-downs have already begun. America's shuttering its stores, no one will have work. People will lose their homes."
Joe - "That seems to be the plan. Remove the working class."
Chief - "They took their losses and decided to amplify. But we assume they must know that weaponized viruses never last long in the wild. So we assume they're going to maximize output, and distribution. With a constant need to update the original strain."
Joe - "With lesser results each time."
Chief - "For as long as they can. So everyone will be locked in their homes, with nothing but their propaganda."
Libra - "How certain are we that this isn't a strain that can last ? Maybe they cracked it."
Chief - "That's your job to find out. We need to know if it's hubris ? Or have they in fact cracked the code on a virus that can survive. Meanwhile we've got teams tracking potential distributors."
Libra - To Joe, "From this data do you think they've cracked the code ?"
...
Libra - "I've seen the news ... I'd have to agree. Their confidence is false, but I agree we need more."
Emilio - "And me ?"
Joe - "Get her back."
Chief - "She's on point. We need footage inside the labs. We don't have the kind of doctor here needed to verify what we see, but we can assess the mindsets of the workers."
Chief - "Their patterns. Their jokes. Who they respect."
Joe - "And who they think is just wrong, in one way or another."
Chief - "You've got one distraction, via Agent Corvallis. On route to tour the facility right now, and you'll be there first."
Libra - "See what patterns they relax back into after a stressor in a comfortable environment, it can tell you a lot. But how do we get in? All we'll know is how the front door works for people who are welcome."
Chief - "Improvise. Welcome to the best of the best, Major. Dismissed."
Joe smiles her off with a joke salute before a drink.
Emilio - "Body count sir. Is there any reason not to just destroy the installation ? If we find what we already know is there ?"
...
Chief - "Not yet. But if comes to that I expect you'll volunteer."
Emilio - "Absolutely."
Chief - "Right now we've got people inside and not just Agent Corvallis. Body count zero. For now. We need to observe a stable environment, to assess the situation and predict their next step."
...
Emilio - "What if I set the charges while we're already there ? High heat to burn off any risk of an outbreak. To be detonated on a whim. Libra is quite capable, I think I may be bored while I'm there."
~ a grenade flies from the tank hatch with a "Whoo !"
Joe - "So you'll have to make do."
A knock at the door ~
Frenchman (the seller) - From behind the door, "May I have my office back please, I have my own nefarious meetings to arrange."
________
Frenchman - In the yard with forty Praetorians lingering about barrack tents. "When will you find another property ?"
Joe - "As soon as the teams are done mugging distributors." He hands him a list of names.
Joe - "Well ... we'll need a plane too."
A look from the Frenchman ...
A
Vietnam War era Cessna A-37B Dragonfly decommissioned from the Chilean
Air Force rolls for take off from the yard, engine roar on low while a
long row of these familiar black SUV's rolls down a longer dusty road.
Inside
one will never know how many are with whom, Corvallis looks completely
at home among the three others facing two by two in the back with
another two up front, loaded up like bullets in a conspiratorial six
gun.
The plane bows with the runway, the engines fire up and it
pushes it's flight, as elsewhere they drive. A viewer could struggle to
see which among whom was seen at the old base manor, the appearance of
all seeming the same intentional.
Of course so one does not
recognize them any other way, making it harder to say who was at the
base more casually attired. But in fact it's one in each of the six
cars, in one cases the driver, the other the a front seat passenger.
In
the plane it's combat bio-hazard season, with masks at the ready and
full comm kits, sealed to the glove in a cockpit quick fitted to
decontaminate. Emilio pilots, being so apt with infiltration and
destruction.
Two seats side by side two among jets is a rarity,
another of history's
unexpected surprises as he flies impossibly close to the ground, nothing
Libra is unfamiliar with as she sight sees out the side.
He flashes the bright colored lights.
A
bump up over a gap in security at the border wall and down again.
Indeed noticed with some hesitation what to do about it as it angles
over the nearby treeline and down again out of sight. May as well have
been a flying saucer.
The black suits approach the distant
structure looking like a grain refinery, pipes and walkways as well
patrolled as can be inconspicuous, the Dragonfly slows for its dusty
landing, past the distant hill.
