Hiya Paragonners. Alexis Alexander here with my ongoing report.
Readers, I've never had a reason to look up the word 'insanity' before. Like most of us, I always thought I had a fair understanding of what it meant. But, after my lunch meeting with Madam Masada, I took the time break out my old copy of the Encyclopaeda Brittanica just to make sure I had things straight.
Her plan for getting into Galaxy City was, at first, second, and third glance, completely insane. She proposed that a team of mercenaries (that she just happened to have on retainer) would infiltrate Fort Darwin and use the teleporters there to transport into Galaxy City. I would be going along with this group in my profession of investigative reporter and, she was kind enough to tell me this after dessert, her personal envoy.
To paraphrase Obi Wan, "Who's the more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows her?"
That, readers, is how I found myself sitting in a small inflatable boat with four other people, slowly drifting with the current toward Mercy Island.
Despite popular opinion, Mercy Island is not Hell on Earth. In fact, before the Rikti invasion it was pretty much a quiet place given over to the fishing industry. Arachnos was one of the best things to happen to the island, driving the mutant snake population (a phrase which only sounds perfectly normal in Paragon, readers) back underground, and establishing a totalitarian but secure society.
When the Rikti invaded, the Northern end of the island was devestated and was never rebuilt. Most of the surviving population either relocated to other islands in the chain or moved South of the massive fortified wall that Arachnos constructed. The North end of the island became Lord Recluse's training ground for new recruits. Either they proved strong enough to survive, and therefore, strong enough to be of use to Arachnos, or they simply disappeared into a snake hole, never to be seen again.
Yes, readers, this is where most of the poster children from the last six years of Paragon's Most Wanted got their start. Kind of puts things into perspective doesn't it?
Over the last few years, Longbow has been sending teams of field operatives onto Mercy in an attempt to "clean up" the island. Generally, all they accomplished was getting several field agents killed, wounded, or captured by Arachnos. It's a bit of an inside joke with Longbow that if you screwed up badly your superiors would show you mercy.
Yeah. Saviors of the world from the forces of evil...
In any case, Longbow has had one clearcut victory in their long conflict with Arachnos. They have managed to take and hold the Arachnos base known as Fort Darwin. As a result, Arachnos forces have withdrawn South of the wall. In a press conference, an Arachnos spokesman denounced the act as nothing more than 'a terrorist invasion of our sovereign territory.' Later that day, the Arachnos emissary to the UN called for sanctions against Longbow and the nations that harbor them.
As you might expect readers, this really hasn't gone very far. Particularly since the emissary was visibly trying to restrain laughter when, in a press conference later that day, he said 'If they really want it that badly, they can have it." Rumors are that things have not gotten better North of the wall. In fact, reliable sources tell me that things have gotten much. much, worse.
And that cheerful thought brings me back to the small inflatable boat on the tide.
The four of us in the boat were only part of the team that Madam sent. Two of our other partners were airborne while the seventh was, quite remarkably, under the boat guiding us in. Marine, our underwater guide, would use his water manipulation abilities to guide us in silently to the shore near Fort Darwin's docks as well as being our first notification of trouble.
Our two airborne members, twins calling themselves Dive and Bomb (I do not make these things up readers), were our lookouts and, when the time came, our distraction. Along with Marine, they would create a large amount of noise and give the impression that the fort was under serious attack.
We stopped about 100 yards out. This was the point where noise and misdirection would do us more good than pure stealth. It seemes that Longbow's leadership is so confident that nobody would attack them directly, that their forces are almost exclusively trained to look for stealthy attackers. A loud, flashy attack would draw their attention so much that our stealth team should be able to enter the fortress unopposed.
Readers, I hate any plan that revolves around the word 'should."
"Ok, here's where I give y'all a push, " said Marine. "Hold on tight and don't fight the wave. Once you get to the dock, get out quick. I 'spect the twins'll be a bit busy at that point and I'll probably be busy pushing Longbow's boats back out to sea."
Fortunately, as much as I hate matter transporters, I love rollercoasters. I had to remember that we were trying to be sneaky as we shot toward the shoreline, or else I would have been whooping like a maniac the whole way. On the edges of my vision I could see Dive and Bomb glowing like fireworks and beginning their run.
The dock was drawing closer as I could see spotlights snapping on above us and the sounds of shouted orders became just barely audible over the rush of the water. I could see bursts of flame erupting along the edges of the platform as the crest of the wave brought us alongside what I supposed was a cargo dock. my three companions and I hopped quickly onto the concrete, letting the wave surge past and break against the shoreline just yards away.
We waited in the shadows of a set of shipping containers as we waited for the twins to break off their attack. They were only supposed to give us five minutes of distraction before heading back out to sea. What seemed like moments later I could hear the twins shouting and hurling insults down at the Longbow troops as they made one last arcing attack run then raced for the horizon.
This was when our timing was critical. We had to find a way inside from dockside while everyone was still looking up. The four of us moved up the dock at a slow jog. Out in front of our foursome was a slight woman calling herself Carpenter. I had to keep reminding myself that she was there since her special abilities made her all but invisible unless you were looking directly at her. She would be our scout and, if necessary, our first striker. We had made it most of the way to a set of armored doors at the end of the dock when she signalled us to stop.
I could see the problem right away. Two Longbow troopers stood on either side of the door. They either had superior discipline or no curiosity what so ever. In either case, they were a complication. I felt a hand on my left shoulder as the second of Madam's 'infiltration specialists' took the initiative.
She raised her hands up to her face and slowly removed the pair of goggles that I had never seen her without. I had warned not to look at her when she did this. Her name was Sandy, short for Sandrine or, as the others called her 'Sandman'. She was a modern day Gorgon and her unfiltered gaze could induce sleep, hallucinations, fear, or even death. I'd had the opportunity to speak with her on the trip in and found her to be very energetic and personable. She said that she had never killed without very good reason, but freely admitted that there were a few times in her past when someone had not walked away from a meeting with her.
It was a moment before the guard on the left stiffened and slumped to the ground, quickly followed by the one on the right. I waited for her whispered 'all clear' before I looked at her, questioningly.
"It's amazing how bored people get on guard duty. I can't blame them for falling asleep at their post." She grinned and took a few jogging steps forward before waving me onward.
The guards were breathing deeply and regularly, lost in whatever dreamland they cared for. Sandy and I dragged them off to the side as our final team member pulled a small multitool from his belt and opened the access switch for the door.
I guess readers, I have this romanticized image of an electronics expert from books and movies. I expected either a small microcomputer and wires, or perhaps a wire connected from his head to the switch. A pair of wire cutters and some electrical tape were a bit undramatic but, they got the job done. The door opened with a faint pneumatic hiss and we slipped inside.
I'd seen file footage of Arachnos facilities but I wasn't prepared for just how... overdramatic Fort Darwin actually was. What little lighting there was seemed to be there solely for the purpose of pointing out how depressing everything was. Bare industrial walls met bare industrial floors at bare industrial joints.
"You'd think Longbow would have at least painted the place or something," said Handshake, our electronics expert. " God, I always hated coming out to Darwin."
"You've been here before?" I asked. I trusted Madam's judgement, but this could be a complication.
"Sure. You don't think Wolf Spiders fix their own computers do you? I was an IT guy for Arachnos for three years before Madam offered me better pay and a benefits package."
As we walked he explained that the Soldiers, Fortunatas, Widows, and Arbiters that were the villains of a thousand-and-one made for TV movies, were really only a small part of Arachnos. The majority of the payroll went to civilian techs, secretaries, plumbers, janitors, and legions of clerks who did the dull, boring, and infinitely necessary paperwork needed to make a private army run.
"Most of us really didn't care whether Lord Recluse ended up ruling the world or not. All we cared about was the steady pay." Said Handshake. "But they really weren't paying me enough to come out here on a regular basis."
It seems, readers, that Fort Darwin itself was the first of Lord Recluse's tests for new recruits. It was purposely designed to be mind numbingly dull. If a new recruit didn't immediately leap off the landing platform, eager to do something, anything, just to get away from Fort Darwin, then they were probably not what Arachnos was looking for. And, if someone actually LIKED being there, well, it's pretty safe to say that they weren't likely to be seen again.
Handshake was just about to launch into a story about a Fortunata named Kalinda when we heard the stomp of boots and the shouts of orders from ahead of us.
"I think they know we're here, " said Carpenter. "I was so hoping I wouldn't have to kill anyone today."
"Heh, and what makes today different than every other day, Spooky? " chided Handshake as he pulled on a pair of metal lined gloves.
Carpenter snorted. "I just bought this shirt. You know how hard it is to get blood out of silk? Oh well," she sighed, "Sandy, if a fight starts, you and I'll carry the load. 'Shake, you're the watchdog. If nothing else, make sure Alexis gets where she's going."
"I'm not helpless, " I said. I felt the need to defend myself at this point, even though I knew my usual place in a fight was not to be in the middle of it.
"Madam's orders, " said Sandy as she stepped past me. "And do you really want to be the one who has to tell her why you're under arrest? Not me. I like my paycheck."
Ahead of us, the hallway opened out into a four-way intersection. Large stacks of packing crates stood almost to the ceiling creating blind spots and, obvious to even my tactically inferior point of view, nasty choke points that it would be easy to shoot wandering reporters in.
"Spooky, you're on," whispered Sandy. Carpenter had moved out of my line of sight and I had no idea where she was. The three of us crouched down behind a set of metal pipes and waited while our scout did her job.
A minute or two later, Carpenter's voice whispered out of the air behind me. "Two left, two right. All rifles, nothing special. Three hiding straight ahead including a flamethrower."
Flamethrower...
There are some words that just don't come up in casual conversation, readers. Flamethrower usually fits on that list. Longbow is supposed to be a law enforcement agency, deputized to arrest and detain criminals.
So, how exactly do you arrest somebody with a flamethrower?
"Um," I started.
"Yeah, I agree. Um...," whispered Handshake. "Any good news Spooky?"
"There's an unguarded teleport bay just about 100 yards straight ahead. We get past these guys and we're good.'
The unresolved flamethrower issue was still hanging in the air when I saw Sandy stand up and walk slowly toward the intersection. I was about to says something when I noticed her left hand held a pair of goggles hanging by their strap. A slight change in the shadows hinted that Carpenter was already moving and would be ready to take advantage of whatever came her way. Handshake had levered himself up onto his toes in almost a sprinter's start. I could see the plan, although I wasn't too fond of it.
"Freeze, intruder and put your hands in the air." Came a voice from the Longbow on the left. At least they were going to start off playing by the rules. Sandy did exactly as commanded. She stopped in the center of the intersection and raised her hands to shoulder height.
She also opened her eyes.
"Now," shouted Handshake as we took off running. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the pair on the right lying bonelessly on the floor while the ones on the left stared at some point far, far, away from reality. That left the three in the center that were directly in our path.
Including the one with the flamethrower. Yes, I know I keep coming back to that, but it was a very important detail in my life at that point. There are a fair amount of hazards in my line of work, but somehow, right then, being incinerated had moved to the top of the list.
I suppose I shouldn't have worried. Although they hadn't been in Sandy's line of sight, neither had Carpenter been in theirs. As Handshake and I passed, I could see the agent with the flamethrower lying on the floor with an unnatural bend in his neck. She was busy fighting with a second agent leaving only one person between us and our goal.
I figured that this was as good a time as any to show off, so I launched myself into the kind of flying kick that my martial arts instructor hated. I saw something like it in a Jackie Chan movie once and I'd wasted a lot of training time trying to perfect it.
The Longbow rifleman folded neatly in half around my foot and dropped to his knees. I followed up with a quick strike to the back of his head, driving him face first into the floor.
Thank you, Jackie.
Handshake was laughing as we crossed the last few feet into the teleporter bay. He walked over to the computer console outside the bay and took off his gloves.
"They've changed the codes," he said. "Ok, no surprise there. I was kind of hoping though. Oh well..." His voice trailed off for a moment as he laid his bare hand on the console. The lights on the panel shifted twice before he looked back at me.
"Got it. I suppose you don't want to go to any of their presets?"
"Not particularly; any suggestions?"
"Lets see if the boys in black left any of their beacons running."
"Arachnos has teleporters in Galaxy City?" I asked. This was news to me.
"Sure. They just didn't advertise. Ha, there's one, warehouse district. Nice strong signal too. Give a shout for the girls will you?"
It took him a moment to make the adjustments he needed and the teleport glowed to life. Sandy (re-goggled) and Carpenter jogged into the room at my call and took their place on the transport pad. I stepped up behind them, and tried to breathe deeply. I wasn't looking forward to this.
Handshake keyed in a final command and jumped into place on the platform. "Diagon Alley," he shouted as the transport started. I would have laughed if I wasn't waiting for my stomach to come out my mouth.
There had to be a better way to get around.
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Hiya Paragonners. Alexis Alexander here with my continuing report.
Imagine, if you will, the feeling of being taken apart atom by atom, sorted, sifted, filed for future reference, and then being shot towards orbit at a speed equalling that achieved by a radio wave only to be bounced off a satellite, hurtled back toward another point on the planet, recalled from the files, and (hopefully) put back together in the correct order.
Now imagine that, with a suit of fully active Crab Spider armor waiting for you at the other end.
Readers, I now understand what it feels like to be completely and absolutely sober. The immediate possibility of your own death completely overrides any petty concerns you might have, such as headaches, nausea, and hunger. While most of my mind was looking for a reverse button, a small, completely fearless part was wondering how much money I could make If I could bottle that feeling as a hangover cure.
"STAND WHERE YOU ARE AND SURRENDER, " boomed the voice of the soldier in the armor. "YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON ARACHNOS PROPERTY AND WILL BE TERMINATED AS INTRUDERS."
You know, readers, I've never been very religious, but I was wondering if I might be able to take a crash course. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Carpenter standing very still. The fact that I could see her at all worried me. That meant that she had been taken as off guard as I was. To my left, I could see Sandy's hands twitching as if she was weighing the options of trying to get her goggles off. The only one of my group that didn't look terrified was Handshake. His head was cocked to one side and he was staring up at the Crab Spider's helmet. I was hoping he had a devastating weapon ready to go.
"Cobo? Is that you in that tin suit, son?" he said as stepped forward with his hand out. Yes, before you ask, he had his gloves on.
"JAKE?" boomed the spider again. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING... OH, WAIT A SEC...that's better... what are you doing here?" Now that the voice was operating at a more normal level, I got the impression that the soldier was much younger than I expected.
Handshake took another step forward before turning and facing us. "Ladies," he began "I'd like to introduce Colby Boston, soldier of Arachnos and, our captor it looks like." He turned his attention back to the Crab Spider. "When did you get promoted?"
The most important thing that happend over those next few seconds was that several other things did not happen. For example, Handshake did not try to attack or make any physical contact with the armor. Carpenter did not move or make any hostile motions. Sandy did not raise her hands to her face. And I did not die. The most important thing was that the soldier in the armor... relaxed. The arms that extended from the back of the armor tipped skyward and stopped tracking everyone's movement. He took a step backward and, although I couldn't be sure, switched off his weapons.
"They finally gave me a slot last month, " came the voice from the armor.
"Took them forever Cobo. Hey, are you still seeing that gal of yours?"
Readers, I'm pretty certain that armor can't blush but Cobo gave every impression of doing so.
"Asked her to marry me the day after I got the promotion."
"Excellent. " Handshake turned to look at us. "His girlfriend works as a blackjack dealer in a casino on St. Martial. they've been dating fo three years. I was beginning to wonder if this idiot here would ever pop the question."
"Jake, what are you doing here? " Cobo sounded exasperated. "This is not a good place to be. It's Hiroshima out there, man. If Vanguard or Longbow dont shoot you on sight, the monsters will get you."
"I'm on a job, son." Handshake answered. "The ladies and I are here on business for Madam. Your door just happened to be our easiest way in."
Colby sighed, "You know I have to report this. I'm already going to be in enough trouble for not shooting first and asking questions later."
"You never get any answers that way, son. " laughed Handshake. "Who's your squad boss? Maybe I can put in a kind word for you."
"Seer Constantine."
"Connie, hm? On second thought, she might still be mad at me."
Hearing a suit of armor laugh was just one of several surreal things that had happened to me over those last few minutes readers.
"Maybe not Jake, " Cobo said. "You see, about two weeks ago when we were assigned here, she told me, and I quote here, 'If you ever see that fool friend of yours again, tell him that warehouse 25A would be a good place for him. And, if I ever see him again, I'll make his brain run out of his nose.' Oh, and she also told me that I should give you five minutes before I start shooting."
"How long do we have left."
"About 2 minutes 50, Jake." said Cobo cheerfully as his armor shifted back into a more alert posture. "Better get a move on."
Readers, when a Crab Spider tells you that you have less than three minutes left of your five minute head start, it's a pretty good idea to start running. Two minutes and thirty seconds later, we sprinted out of the side door of a mostly intact office building and out into what Cobo had described very correctly.
Hiroshima.
