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OMICRON REPORT
The Zoo. 010527 1200
Submerged fifty feet below the waves of the Gulf of Mexico the Zoo was the most advanced medical station on Earth -- directed by humans that is. Verner, the head researcher and curator of The Zoo, walked the stainless steel and stark white, empty hallway in silence. Muttering to himself in an almost comically thick german accent, "I ope it verks, I ope it verks," he walked towards his destination.
Standing at the pair of water-tight blast doors Verner thought back to four years ago when this whole thing started. Back then, he hadn't been the curator of the Zoo, just a highly placed scientist here. He was one of the lucky ones to survive the Lizardman assaults. Thanks to 202 and the Security Ops in the Zoo some of them survived. Others hadn't, fifty others. The former curator had been Micheal, but he was implicated in the big mole hunt of 97 and executed by Patterson for the events during the invasion. Afterwards Deacon pulled a few strings and had Verner placed as the curator. His first job had been to accelerate the Bio-tank project and see that Shadow was the first successful patient. To complete the project had taken eight months, and since then Shadow had been regenerating inside the tank.
Today he would hopefully walk out.
Team 203 gathered inside the large laboratory after turning Melissa and Masque over to the Docs in the medical wing. Several hours after that, everyone was here, waiting for who knew what. The soft flourescent lights gave the room a clinical feeling that all the stainless steel and white tile didn't interfere with. One wall was all chemical storage racks, pumps, and high pressure tanks. Next to that wall was the monitoring wall; every imaginable (and some unimaginable) sensor and monitor were gathered there for some reason. Next to that (and opposite the chemical wall) was the low pressure tank wall. These cryogenic tanks held nitrogen and oxygen in their liqid states. This wall also had the main door to the hallway. The last wall had a small electronics and medical technology lab built into it. Here is where the focus of the room was built. In the center of the room were four vaguely sarcohpigus shaped boxes. Long enough for a person, five feet wide and four feet tall, they were constructed of steel and alloy. The top had a polycarbonate cover that was transparent and a green translucent liquid was inside. Many pipes and hoses ran in and out of each 'Tank' and connected it to the Zoo's power, as well as the cryogenics and chemical tanks.
Boredom was turning into hostility as the team stood there taking in their surroundings while their feet got sore. After about an hour of waiting Melissa and Masque were rolled in on wheelchairs. The two orderlies stood around, but besides them and the team the room was empty.
Then commotion struck. Ten doctors and technicians bust into the room from the monitoring stations side and half took seats immeadietly. One tall blond man stood at the back and shouted directions with an urgency that made some of the Teams neckhair stand up. Then Verner walked in. Six aides hovered at his side and he walked over to the tanks. He checked the center one's digital touch-screen display then stood and faced Team 203.
"Velcome to ze Zoo, I am Doktor Verner, ze kurator, and you are all about to vitness a very monumental event." Then he turned to the blond man at the monitoring stations, "Number two, ztatus veport."
"Life-signs are nominal; heart beat ok; oxygen levels normal; electrolite concentration steady; phosphourous 85%; power supply good; LO2 good; and capacitors fully charged." Then he looked up at the Doctor and nodded his head once.
"Outztanding numba two. EMT's to your post." Six EMTs stood at the corners and mid points of the tank exactly ten feet back. "Capazitors begin kountdown, now."
One man in the monitoring section pressed a button and a big red LED behind the tank started down from ten. 10... 9... 8... 7... The whine of the capacitors was faintly audible now. 6... 5... 4... The buzz reached a terrible high pitch 3... 2... 1... BAM!! Electricity arced into the tank from the corners and pure white light radiated out of the top of the tank. Verner jumped up and down shouting, "Live dammnit!! Liveeeeee!!!"
Then the arcs died, and the capacitors got quiet. The EMTs plunged their arms into the tank and reached out A BODY!!!
Two held it by the shoulders and one lifted its head as a third put a pump on its mouth and began squirting out green goo. Once the flow stopped they all lifted the body up on a rolling gurney and began to give it CPR as two of them hooked up a pulse meter and an IV. Slowly the pulse register began to beep, "We've got him Doctor!" One shouted and Verner leapt with joy. As he landed he ran over to the body as 203 stood amazed. What the hell is going on here and why are we here? they all thought at once.
Verner walked over to the body and began hooking up an EKG, then listened to the breathing with a stethescope. "I believe ve havs zukzeeded. Nurze brink me a zeringe with 50cc of Steroidz."
One of the EMTs marched over to a equipment table and seconds later returned with the item.
"Now let uz all kross our vingers," Verner said as he took the seringe and jabbed it into the persons chest, through the chest bone and into the heart.
Convulsing and arching its back the man on the table flopped once and exhaled loudly. His arms flung to the side then pulled the needle out, "Aggghhhh!!" He sat bolt upright and looked around feverishly, "Where the hell am I???"
Verner hugged him like a little boy, "Yo're home Shadow!" Then Verner became cool and collected and laid Shadow down on the table and stepped back. "Take im to a pozt op ruum unt keep an eye on im." The EMTs and nurses did just them.
Team 203 stood in amazement. That was Shadow! The science op from team 202; Deacon's team. He was killed in the Big Mole Hunt of '97 by Jacques.
"I kan zee by the looks on your fazes dat you vould like an answer." Team 203 nodded. "Vell dat I kannot give, Klazzzivied. But I vill let you know dat zese tanks also serve regerative vunktions for tishue damage, i.e. bullet vounds. Would any of you like to use them."
"Docktor Vurner," Petyr asked, "how manny tests have you had ov dese tankss." Petyr's russian accent was a contrast to Verners. Petyr held his z's and s's too long, while Verner over accentuated his z's and k's and substituted v's for everything.
"Whoever iz virst vill be ze sekond suksesful test."
Petyr nodded his head. Then Masque bust in, "Well count me in."
"Oudstanding, strip out ov your garmentz and step in. Nurses help him."
Masque waved off the help, stood up without a grimace, and removed the hospital gown. The huge mass of gunshot wounds, bruises, and stitches all over his body were amazing. He made it all the way to the middle tank without hardly hobbling and without a hint of modesty at his nudity. Once there he vaulted in, in the buck, and two of the EMTs hooked up a few monitors to him and took a blood sample.
"Wow. Dude, count me in, huh huh," Otter giggled. He tore off his suit jacket. Took off his shoulder rigs, put down six pistols, took off his shirt, laid down five knives, removed his pants, parted with his two swords, and kicked off his shoes. Then totally in the buck, and only the bandages on his shoulder he ran over to the second tank and plunked it.
"Oudzdanding, more subjekts," Verner clapped his hands like a little boy.
Last, Melissa rolled over to the third tank, stood up, and slipped out of her hospital gown. She started turning red instatnly and then hopped in with some assistance from the EMTs.
Ten minutes later they were all submerged and in good condition. The regenerative healing tanks would take ten hours to get them back to 100%.
May 28, 1600. The Zoo. Submerged Landing Bay #23.
The team members were taken out of the tank, barfing and retching the green goo, but they were in perfect condition. As they walked out to the parked Scout Helo, Blue Duck wasn't the only Pilot in the Bay. Blue Duck was standing beside a long legged 5'-5" blond.
"Team 203, let me introduce you to your new Helo driver," Blue Duck said with his best flourish.
The team didn't react for a few seconds. At first because there wasn't the familiar Chhhk that proceeded and followed his speach like prefixes and suffixes. Then because the realization Blue Duck was no longer their pilot.
"But Blue Duck, you're the best," replied Masque.
"Agh! Fuk!!" bemoaned Ian.
"I know, I know. Shower me with praise, but that is precisely why I must be leaving you." He bowed and bowed again, then stood up again. Doctor Payne's steely gaze almost game him hepetitus he thought, but then he continued, "This is Red Moon. One of the best young pilots in the Department. She'll treat you good if you treat her good." Then he held out a hand at Ian to forstall the comment he knew would be coming. Ian just stamped a foot on the ground because he'd been shhh'd.
Red Moon smiled, "I'm glad to be working with you guys, and gals. Just hold on tight." Again, Blue Duck's hand went out to Shhh Ian, who stamped his foot again.
"Enouff small talk. Let us be goink," Petyr said. And when Petyr spoke, it was law. Everyone loaded up in the Helo and waved goodbye to Blue Duck.
One hour later they were all onboard the helo for Seattle. Everyone else had been napping, cleaning weapons, or getting drunk (in Ian's case.)
Team 203 Warehouse. 010529 0500.
After being dropped off on the roof from a hovering Scout Helo the team set about the business at hand: interrogating all of their prisoners, and the list was long. The driver and passanger taken from Ares by Petyr as they escaped with Masque and Melissa, the two Doctors from Zues storage and the two crew members from the tug. Saddly, the two drivers from the Zues truck were killed by stray fire at the last warehouse. By 0500 everything was in position.
0500
Petyr, Ian and Masque stood around the folding table with computers covering it. Inside the four rooms that Ian constructed were the six prisoners. Each doctor was in a separate room, white and black respectively; the guys from the car and the two from the boat were paired up in rooms togther, for simplicity. The prisoners talked or mumbled or cried, depending on their mental toughness, but outside the three ops didn't care. They were planning how to break each of these men.
"Agh! Let Me ave eh shot attit!! I know I can hack into is brain," Ian pleaded. "All I gota do is install this neural interface thingy!"
"No," Petyr said, "ve're doingk this conventionully. Masque and I vill tag team dem, good-cop/bad-cop, and then wring dem like soiled underwear." His slight grim was the only indication he gave that he liked this part of the job. "Ve haf wayz to mak dem tak."
"Then I guess I'm the bad cop, because I'm intel??" Masque inquired.
"You are korrect." Petyr replied.
0700.
Masque had been exact in his efforts. Petyr had even drawn his gun at him. He had raised it to an art form. The disguise was perfect. Goddamn I'm good. Masque thought to himself. He'd be sure to fool the Ares guys inside of room A. They were the ones Petyr had captured during the car chase that immeadietly followed Masque and Melissa's escape from Ares. Masque was disguised as the tall Universal Military Type that had interrogated him, and who he had killed in the basement of Ares. He looked at himself one more time in the mirror of his personal room at the Warehouse. Damn good.
"Agh, I dun't know if I shud kiss ya or shoot cha!" Ian observed as Masque left his own room.
"Please don't shoot me," he requested in a deadpan manner that matched the timbre and tone of the Ares Agents voice perfectly.
Ian made a shudder and a shake, "Thatz spooky you manky git."
Masque turned to Petyr, "Ready good cop?"
"Roger, Roger."
0715.
Masque walked across the light dust on the floor that was left over from Ian's work. He firmly grasped the door knob and entered the all white room. Whew, Ian really did a number. I can't even see the corners of the room. He took five strong steps into the room and faced the two handcuffed men on the floor. "Hello gentlemen, it would seem that you have broken Ares Company policy."
"What are you talking about??" one asked.
"After you were captured. You do remember being captured don't you??" He gave them a skeptical look. The two prisoners visibly winced, but then nodded yes. "Like I said, you were captured and presumably interrogated with stron psycho-somatic drugs. You were found yesterday at the parking garage entrance unconscious. Then you were taken to the medical wing, examined and after you were deemed ok, brought here for de-briefing." When he said that both winced as if shocked by a cattle prod. Masque wondered why. "I need you to tell me everything you remember."
The one on Masque's left spoke up, "I was unconscious the whole time and don't remember anything. Not even pharma-interrogation." Left spoke in a strong voice, but then trailed off as Masque stared him straight in the face. Right just sat there and nodded.
"Well, I'm sorry but that isn't that helpful." God, what do I ask them, that I already shouldn't know? "Do you remember who your supervisor is??"
Two yeses answered.
"Well, who is it?"
Left answered again, "Both of us are assigned to security under Paul Eyestone."
"Recite the chain of command."
Left continued. "Paul Eyestone, security section chief; Roger Jeros, CIC Security; Gregg Phelps, Ares CIC Military Operation; Daniel Birk, CEO Ares."
Masque stood there for a second. He recited that in a mechanical manner, it was etched hard on his brain. Very professional.
"Now you tell me YOUR chain of command." Left spoke with a sudden gust of confidence. Masque decided he had to extinguish it fast.
"You are in no position to make such demands. Upper management is very displeased with your performance." Masque delivered the statement with such malice that frost almost formed on his steely glasses. Right cowered further into the corner. Left didn't seem scared, that was bad.
"Prove it, rank up." He held his arm out and stuck out his wrist, exposing the small green wristband he wore.
Masque had no wristband. Them 1, Us 0. He turned and walked out of the room.
As he shut the door and looked at Petyr, Petyr just shook his head. "It's ok, I'll get them." Then Petyr turned and walked in the room. As the door shut behind him, Masque wondered why he was carrying a gatling carbine.
Inside Petyr walked right in and rest the Gatling carbine over his shoulder and glared down at the two prisoners imposingly. Right skwirmed. "I would like both of you to know that neither of you will get hurt if you answer my questions." Both nodded. "Good, now who is the commander here."
Left straightened his back, and stuck out his chest, "I am."
"Good, then I don't need you," Petyr said as he lowered the gatling gun, by swinging it in his right hand. The barrel flipped down off his right shoulder and he caught the six-barrel-shroud in his left. The safety clicked off and she squeezed the trigger. It all happened so fast that neither could dodge or roll. Left was direcly in his line of fire. The muzzle flash and the blasts combined togther due to the high rate of fire into one long flaming explosion as the barrel did one hundred revolutions in one second. Petyr emptied the entire six-hundred round magazine in that one second. Left was reduced to ground chuck and the wall was blasted open.
Outside in the hallway Masque was watching from the flat-screen monitor Ian had patched into the rooms interior cameras. "OH MY GOD!!!" Ian meanwhile spit his beer all over the computers and monitors and brought his feet down to the ground hard. He stood from his reclined position in the chair and shouted, "YEAAAAAHHHH. Arh!!!" Then he looked at the computers, one short circuited. "Shit, Ah spilled my beer!"
Right was screaming like a little girl, while Left just ran down the wall and off of Petyr's clothes. He dropped the empty gat carbine and turned to Right. Leaning over he grasped him by the collar of shirt, picked him up and slammed Right into the wall. Holding him there at arms length he looked him right in the face. "That is a small measure of repayment for what others in your association did to a fine woman. It will only be half of the retribution I extract now, unless you answer every one of my questions to the fullest and truest extent possible." Ian by then had the cameras working again, and was watching the facial stress analizers ready to tell Petyr over the implant communicator if the prisoner was lying.
Right just nodded vigurously. For the rest of the interrogation Petyr returned to his normal Russian accent.
0830.
Petyr stepped out of the interrogation room, leaving the unconscious Right laying on the floor. Masque was waiting there according to Company SOP (i.e. never leave one man outside a seconds help while interrogating). Petyr and Masque stood silently in the hall for a second, their eyes locked. "Dat iz the vay we do it in ze Motherland," Petyr said. Masque just nodded as he walked away. "Ian, get Beggay to fix that hole in the wall, you and I are going to neuraly interrogate the rest, this takes far too long."
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