Saga of the Sixteenth, Part IV: Shitcurity

I yawned and stretched my arms over my head. Security duty might not be nearly as phsically demanding as combat, but it was still exhausting; the need for constant vigilance taxes the mind and dulls the senses. It's boring, monotonous work, to the point where I'd almost rather be getting shot at instead.

"Just another forty­five minutes, Tanya. Hang in there." The short, white­haired girl walking beside me shot me a half­-smile, which I returned.

"I know, Sonja. Can't wait to get out of this armor." I gave her a wry grin. "As nice and shiny­new as it is, it gets old after being shut in it for twelve hours at a time."

Sonja nodded fervently, and wrinkled her nose. "That, and I think my environmentals are acting up. It smells funny in here."

I nodded sagely. "That'll be all that chili you ate last night. Honestly, I don't know where you put it all."

The younger girl swatted my armored shoulder and, judging from the noise that emanated from my com, blew a small raspberry at me. "I can't help my metabolism. Perks of being young, I suppose.~"

It was my turn to blow the raspberry. "I've got what, three years on you? I'm not old. And you can blame the smell on that metabolism of yours, too, so I don't begrudge you it."

Sonja shrugged. "At any rate, we're not going to be in these much longer." She turned and snapped out a textbook­perfect side kick, watching appreciatively as the Cadre armor's artificial muscles bunched and flexed with her own, lending the kick vastly more power than she alone was capable of. "I do like them, though. I wonder if we'll get to keep them."

"Davin has them on a probationary basis." Linde's voice sounded in the channel. "We'll be running a few operations with them. Depending on our performance, we may be permanently redesignated as a Cadre unit."

I raised an eyebrow, a gesture I was amused to note Sonja mirroring through her transparent faceplate. "Sounds like kind of a big deal, Boss."

"It is. Warmaster Pavlovena's been making noises for some time about re­founding the Cadre, and this is her first step in actually doing so."

"So why us?" Sonja's voice was considering. I suppressed a smirk. For a fourteen­year­old, Sonja had a strong grasp on how the Officio did its internal business.

"I'm...not entirely sure," Linde hedged. "There could be any number of reasons. Let's stay focused, though, shall we? We'll have ample time to speculate on this later. For now, give me a report."

I manipulated my helmet's datalink, patching the camera feed through to the HUD Linde's implantprojected across her vision. I panned the camera across my field of view. "Nothing but concrete, metal, and water out here. No sign of any sort of disturbance."

"You've made a full perimeter sweep, then?"

"Of course. All clear, nothing to report. Except one minor altercation between two of the of the off-duty guards in the cafeteria, but that situation resolved itself."

"How?"

I grinned. You remember Jack?"

"That one dude who never takes his balaclava off? Facial scarring, or something?"

"That's the one. Anyway, yeah, one of the other guys apparently got into the Sar'Major's scotch, and took issue with Jack not showing his face."

"And how did that end?"

I chuckled. "Predictably. Last I saw of the poor bastard, Jack was carrying him over one shoulder off to Medbay. He should be fine, once the doc gets his shoulder back into his socket and checks for concussion when he wakes up."

Linde laughed. "I'll give him one thing ­ ugly mug or no, our lad Jack knows his way around a fight. He and Rev had a go in the ring the other day while you two were on partol. She won, of course, but he put up a pretty good fight."

I grinned. "The way he's built, I'm not surprised. How did it go?"

"Well, he had reach, but she had flexibility. He managed to keep her at arm's length for a while, but she absolutely floored him when she got in close. By the time she was done with him, he couldn't see straight!"

I raised an eyebrow. "We're...still talking about fighting, right?"

Rev's distinctive laugh issued from the com. "Yeah, he wishes it wasn't just fighting. Not bloody likely."

Our collective laughter was interrupted a moment later as one of the guards used his emergency override code to break into the channel. "Freon, Bulldog. We may have a situation."

I blew out a breath. "This means we have to keep the armor on, doesn't it, Boss?" ­­­

---

We stood in a semicircle around Linde, watching as she rolled a small metallic cylinder in her palm.

"Tranquilizer?"

The man standing beside her, who wore the stripes of a Sergeant Major, nodded. "Each holds enough to knock a man out. We've found four of our men unconscious in the last hour, each with a dart in him. We found a fifth who'd been choked out."

Linde's eyes narrowed. "You think we've been compromised?"

The man nodded reluctantly. "It looks that way. Unless this is someone's very bad idea of a joke."

Linde smiled wryly. "I'm not laughing, Sergeant. Are you?"

The Sergeant chuckled. "I suppose not. I've already taken the precaution of having the men patrol in groups of three; hopefully, at least one will be able to report in the event of a breach."

Linde nodded, considering, then turned to us. "Rev, you and I are suiting up. Zero, Pawn, you two stay together. You're our mobile reerve and rapid reaction, such as it is, and what there is of it. Sergeant Winters, I want your on alert. Don't make it obvious, but I want every inch of this facility searched."
Winters nodded. "And if we find the intruder?"

Linde's voice was cold and flat. "Capture if it's feasible. If not, I'd rather have them dead than escaped. See to it." The Sergeant saluted, spun smartly on his heel, and left the room.

Rev turned to Linde. "My armor's down in the Armory for maintenance. I'll hook up with you on the outer shell once I'm suited up."

Linde nodded, and turned to go. "All right, People. Let's be about it."
­­­
---

Barely ten minutes passed before we got a break. Or, rather, Rev got a break. A broken neck, to be precise.

When her med­alert went off, Linde ordered the bulkheads surrounding the Armory sealed off completely, to trap the infiltrator inside. Moments later, the three of us who were left stood outside one of the bulkheads. Sonja hit the manual override, and the three of us moved in.

Linde signalled us to split up, and for several tense minutes, the only sounds that broke our silence were murmurs of "Clear" as we moved through the sealed­off section of the facility.

We reached the room with Rev's transponder signal at roughly the same time. She lay on her stomach in the doorframe, head tilted at an impossible angle. Linde motioned Sonja forward, covering the younger girl with her battle rifle. I looked around the room for any sign of theinfiltrator, but saw nothing.

Sonja bent down over Rev, before jerking back and shaking her head muzzily. She reached up to pop her helmet seal. "Getting some weird interference. My HUD's down." She bent down again to turn Rev over.

There was a PING!

The concussion grenade that had been concealed under Rev's inert body detonated in Sonja's
face.

An instant later, something dropped from the ceiling and landed heavily on my shoulders, driving me to the floor. I made to get up, only to see a second grenade inches from my face. The world went white.
­­­
---

I awoke to the sound of combat. I blinked muzzily, trying to clear my eyes, and took stock of the situation. I was still face­down, precisely where I'd fallen. According to my HUD my suit wasn't compromised ­ it had just been the overpressure that had knocked me out. I rolled over onto my side. I blinked.

"Jack?"

The masked guard didn't answer ­ he was wholly focused on the armored Puella Magi who was doing her level best to put him down.

Jack was good. He was very, very good, trained and experienced to the pinnacle of combat skill. But Linde was riding the Tick.

Jack was wholly on the defensive, evading and redirecting blows as best he could. Linde, for her part, refused to let go of him ­ she stayed in close, strike after perfectly­executed strike chaining together in an endless flurry of blows. It was like watching a beautiful, violent dance, a waltz of flashing hands and sweeping legs, as Linde slowly pushed Jack further and further back. With one final palm­strike, she blew completely through his defense, hammering a blow into his diaphragm and slamming him against the wall. In an instant, she had her combat knife to his throat. He let his hands drop into a nonthreatening stance.

Linde's voice was clipped and without inflection ­ the voice of someone who was deliberately slowing down their speech from the hyperacceleration of the Tick. "You didn't fight like that the other day."
The man chuckled. "Only an idiot shows his skill before he needs it."

"Take your mask off." He did so, revealing a not­unattractive face. "Pawn, run a search through the Officio database. I want to know this asshole's name, where he's from, who he works for."

I activated my helmet's camera, and ran the resulting photo through the Officio's standing database on known security, mercenary, and military personnel. Moments later, a match came up.

"Kamijou Kyousuke, of [Militaires Sans Frontieres]. Nothing too notable...." My eyes widened. "Until recently. He was mixed up in that clusterfuck at that idol's concert, working with the Ninth's Warmaster."

"Interesting. Tell me, Mister Kamijou, what brings you all the way out here?" Kamijou smiled tightly. "You know I can't tell you that."

Linde Van Dyke's eyes were hard, and her voice soft. "I know you don't want to tell me that. Not yet. Now, normally this is the part where I would call up my boss and have him start digging.
But you've hurt my girls, Mister Kamijou."

Linde's combat knife inched its way down until its point rested against his stomach.

"I think I'm inclined to do a bit of...digging...myself, if you prove uncooperative. So I suggest you start talking, Mister Kamijou. I am not a patient woman."