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UFO FanFic - Chapter 1


Carlos the Jackal

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It didn't take much for some people to be overcome with confusion. Trigger was one of these people and as he took a second to think about what was happening, the fact that he had changed tables puzzled him greatly!

"No I don't," he said quickly regaining himself.

"Huh?" said Gia sitting beside him.

"Dance... I never dance."

"That's a shame, you'd be a good dancer," said Gia thoughtfully.

"Why do you say that?"

"I've watched you fly more times than you know since I arrived here. You're very... graceful," she finally said unable to think of a better word.

"My first training was in formation flying. When I started flying solo I kind of developed a rhythm for it... That's how I keep beating Davies," he said finishing with a smile.

The smile quickly faded on Trigger's face as Gia touched his hand. "Now's not the time to talk about work. Why don't we go and get some drinks? We'll see if I can't get you dancing by the end of the night.

Trigger swallowed and smiled nervously. "Well if that's your goal I should've started drinking a long time ago! What'll you have?" he asked rising.

"Just get me a glass of something cold. We'd best be on the safe side and keep at least one pilot sober," replied Gia smiling.

Trigger laughed, "Ok, I'll be back in a minute."

As he walked off he glanced over to where Rick and Tammy were still talking. He knew what it would be about as he'd wanted to ask him about it himself many times before tonight. Maybe Tammy would have more luck, he couldn't say... Rick was acting strangely lately though. It probably wouldn't be a good idea for him to try and 'save the world' as the commander had put it, until he'd spoken to someone at least about what was bothering him.

He looked back to where Gia was sitting again and furrowed his brow slightly. He was confused... Still or again... But he was happy enough with the way the evening was unravelling so far at least. He smiled to himself and walked over to the bar wondering whether he would remember any of this in the morning.

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Hankosha shook himself awake. He wiped his face and yawned. A glint on his hand caused him to glance at it. It was covered in makeup. He headed for the washroom, but couldn't move from his chair. Some no-good practical joker had tied his legs to the chair, and then ducktaped the rope so it would stay. He heard laughter from his left. He glanced at the laughing group. He would remember them.

 

Hankosha returned from the bathroom. His face was no longer caked with makeup, but his unbroken leg hurt from the effort of having to get out of the chair. He headed for the dance again, stopping at his room first. reaching into a pocket of one of his old moth-eaten jackets, he came up with a small jar of powder. He decided that 'the night shall be filled with laughter/ and the cares that infested the day/ would fold their tents like the arab/and as silently steal away.' He thought of that poem and grinned. The flash powder would make a big show... a big show indeed...

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Legal drinking age. Whew. Keller downed her glass in one gulp. She knew she was legal in Canada, but she wasn't

sure about here. Well, what'd they do to stop her? Heh. It was laughable. She let loose with a high pitched giggle.

Hiro tapped her on the shoulder. "What's with the water?"

Keller looked down on the water bottle she held in her right hand - really just a Pepsi bottle filled with water - and

struggled to think. Why was it?

She broke into a smile. "Have to keep myself hydrated," she said, eyes even more pink than normal. "Al-kee-hol

gets you running to the watch...wash...the toilet like twenty times an hour. Deyhdrates ya. Sip a drink after every

go and you avoid a hangover in the morning" For some odd reason she found this incredibly funny. She began

giggling uncontrollably and nearly lost her seat.

Yeah. She was drunk. She was happy she wasn't on that five-minute team, too.

She turned her head (almost upsetting her balance) quickly in curiosity as one of the men beside her emitted a low

whistle. One of the women was passing by, sexy dress and all. Keller couldn't make out who it was, she supposed

she was too intoxicated, but that was okay with her.

Green looked at her. "You must be one of about the 5% of the women in this room wearing pants." he commented.

Keller emitted another high-pitched giggle. "I don't fhave anything like that - I don't have the figure to pull it off

if I could."

Green looked a bit surprised. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean - "

Keller turned to face Green, a lopsided grin pasted on her face. "Naaah. When I...was a kid, my mom always said...

well, she always said I had to look good...good for the boys. But of curse," Green assumed she meant to say 'course', "I

look like a ghost, I never was as blessed - in my development - if you know what I mean - ah, you probably know,

you're a smart guy. And of course I got this," at which she pointed to her crooked nose, "from a fight with a boy,

so I assume I never had much...ah...what's the word..."

"Charm? Luck? Charisma?"

"Charisma! Thank you. And of course, my hand." She lifted her left hand, but it was too blurred in her vision for

her to make out her sixth finger. Keller blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. How much had she drunk? "So,

I think the men aren't missing much. An' I got a ser...service to my count...coun...my nation. And the world, now" She

articulated the last point by waving her hands wildly for a second, meaning to encompass a large amount of space. As

a result she managed to whack Green with moderate force on the nose.

"Aw, sorry" Keller tried to bring up her hands to help and ended up hitting Green on the chin with her water bottle. Green,

on the other hand, broke into a sheepish smile and tried to keep from laughing out loud at her and himself.

Keller stared at the water bottle. What was that there for? Oh yes, now she remembered. And now that she thought

about it, she had to go. Bad.

She stumbled off her seat and across the room towards the bathroom. On her way she nearly collided with someone

just entering.

She backtracked clumsily. "Jeez, you nearly hit me." She began to giggle again, but was still painfully aware of her

current situation.

"Sorry." The man said, stiffly, and brushed past her. Keller was miffed. She didn't really recognize him -

'Cuz yer in a drunken stupor! The small sober voice in the back of her head snapped.

- but she wished she had, so she could have put forward condolences. He was limping, rather noticably at that.

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"So, as you can see, Dr Gomez," Zager explained. "By rearanging the coolant valves as in theory six, we can increase the power rating by four point two percent."

 

"But what about the feedback, wouldn't that reduce the operation life span by a mean of six percent?" Photon replied. The two were discussing the current laser project at the party. They were also talking in Latin, since that was an effective method of communicating important information.

 

"Ah, but that flux transiposers, you see, can be upgraded two levels of efficiency. A slightly higher cost, perhaps, but it will eliminate the degradation problem."

 

"I see, very clever."

 

Meanwhile, Gaston was busy chatting up half the ladies on the base. He was extrordinarily sociable, and possesed of a very fine wit indeed. He considered himself quite the ladies man back in the FMC, and that hadn't changed yet.

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As Rick sat alone at a table of four, he saw Tammy approaching from across the room. She flashed him a smile and asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Rick glanced over to where Trigger was sitting with Gia and replied "No I guess not."

"Mind if I sit down?" asked Tammy sensing the uncertainty in Rick's voice.

"No, I guess we really should talk if we're going to be fighting together."

"Thanks," said Tammy sitting down and removing one of her high-heels. "I'd forgotten how much these things can hurt your feet. I'm more used to boots these days."

Rick wondered whether to reply but with the best response he could imagine being 'Yeah me too', he decided against it and simply nodded to the medic.

Tammy leant back and stretched her legs. "So, are you enjoying the party?"

"So far? It's not too bad, but if I sit here on my own much longer I may change my answer." replied Rick.

"I think I'm insulted," said Tammy chuckling.

"Don't be. I'm sorry but I presumed you were just resting your feet then disappearing on me" said Rick smiling.

"Nonsense! I intend to enjoy your company for several minutes and then disappear," Tammy grinned widely.

"Well it's several minutes better than nothing" smiled Rick "Are you drinking anything?" he asked

"Well, I don't really drink alcohol." she replied glancing at Keller. "I don't like what it does."

"Well if you don't mind waiting a while, I do! Is it ok if I go and get something?" asked Rick rising from his seat.

"By all means, I'll wait here and let my feet recuperate."

"Ok," smiled Rick, "I won't be a minute."

Tammy leant back and closed her eyes just in time to have Keller trip over her feet. There was a bump and a smash as something shattered at Tammy's feet. She jerk upright and entered medic mode checking Keller over quickly before helping her to her feet. Then she said to Keller, who was having difficulty focusing on Tammy, "You might want to go easy on the drinking for a while."

Keller stumbled off to the washroom just as Rick returned with two pints of beer. "Are you ok?"

Tammy nodded and sat down again. "See what I mean?" she said smiling.

"Yeah I guess so. It kind of makes me wish I'd waited a while before I bought another drink..." replied Rick raising the glass in his right hand.

"Why do you have two anyway?" said Tammy glancing from hand to hand.

"You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find good beer in Australia. When I got the first one they told me it was almost the bottom of the barrel so I got that one too."

Tammy laughed and said "I'll keep you here unless I'm sure you can make it across the room unassisted. Or I could help you, I suppose, but I don't think you'd want me to follow you inside." She laughed again and Rick sat down smiling.

"I should be fine for a while, this is only my third drink." he said holding up the glass in his left hand. "This is my fourth." He held up the other.

"That's a relief." said Tammy. "I think you'd be a tad harder on my feet than young Keller there."

"I hope so," replied Rick laughing, "or all my training has been a complete waste of time"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and said "Yes, you've had rather a lot of training, obviously."

"It must be somewhere around five years solid military service now... It's funny but now I come to think of it..." He laughed to himself and stopped with a smile.

"Think of what?" asked Tammy in a gentle, unobtrusive way.

"Well, it's probably stupid but the only reason I was ever assigned to Pine Gap was because I was court-marshalled by the British army."

"Now that sounds like a fascinating story. I could use the distraction from my feet. Go on..."

"Oh it really isn't worth going into, you probably wouldn't know about the campaign anyway. It was very hush hush..." said Rick dismissing the topic.

"Oh, but I love a good story. Tell me what you can at least... Change the names and places and so forth. Otherwise, I'll be forced to start telling bad jokes to entertain us."

"Well you know the intergovernmental conference in '96?"

"I recall hearing something about it."

"Well it was focussed mainly on the revision of the Maastricht's Treaty. The governments of the European Union were called to discuss an Economical and Monetary Union... That's all any history books will ever tell anyone but there was a lot more to it than that."

"There always is," said Tammy recalling some of her own hush hush assignments.

"The British army launched a few counter offensives off the Franco-German borders when things got a little ugly in the west... Again there's still a lot more to it than that but nothing that needs to be discussed here. Anyway we were never told why, but my division and a few others were sent into Strasbourg to deal with some kind of 'uprising'. With Strasbourg being on French land we were all pretty confused when we found the area occupied by Germans..."

"So how does all of that translate into a court martial for a fine soldier like yourself?" asked Tammy.

"I was always sent to places like this because I tended to be the one to shoot first and ask questions later. I always did it discreetly though. And very effectively, I've been sent into places like Strasbourg as a sniper more than once... So anyway, when I see a rifle aimed through a third story window at my commanding officer, I didn't hesitate to take the head off the guy behind it..."

"Understandably," said Tammy.

"Unfortunately, it turned out that the shooter was just addressing his commanding officer... He was standing inside the room while his CO checked his equipment... His rifle, to be precise..." finished Rick blushing slightly.

"You couldn't possibly have known that," said Tammy reassuringly.

"Well that's not technically true... If I'd taken a little more time over my shot I would have seen his uniform... I should have been on the recieving end of way more than a courtmarshall but thankfully I'd already earned more than one favour from my CO by the time this all happened. And from his superior too... Still, that was the end of my career in the British army..."

"If you'd taken a little more time, your CO could've been dead, too, if it'd been an actual attempt on his life. Still, I can see that they had to do something."

"Yeah, a courtmarshall wasn't the only thing it left me with..."

"Oh?" said Tammy inquisitively.

"Well to be fair if I saw my CO's head explode, I'd want to kill the guy who did it too..." Rick lifted up the left side of his shirt to reveal a distinct bullet wound.

"Ouch," said Tammy cringing slightly.

"I've had it almost four years so you can tell it was bad! They tell me there's still a bullet in there but I think that's just to wind me up..."

"Well, we could find out if you'd like. That's what they pay me for," said Tammy entering medic mode again.

"Nah it's ok thanks. The mystery is good for getting me up in the morning," Rick replied with a smile.

"I have a question for you actually, Rick," said Tammy. "But I'm the direct sort, so you'll forgive me, I hope. Do you mind telling me why you look at me so strangely sometimes? Did I do something?"

"I'm sorry," said Rick soberly, "I hadn't noticed I'd been doing that... No, you haven't done anything. Not to me at any rate..."

"Well....okay. Maybe I just remind you of someone or something. Don't worry about it."

Tammy turned her gaze away from Rick and returned it to find him gazing thoughtfully at her. "That's the look"

"Well, I did used to serve with someone that looked a little like you actually... I hadn't thought about it until now though..." replied Rick.

"Must've been lurking in your subconscious." said Tammy. "That happens sometimes."

As Rick was gathering strength to tell Tammy something he'd hidden for a long time, Gason appeared over her shoulder... Perfect... There was something about Gastobn that Rick and Trigger had agreed was not quite normal... And that was nothing to do with the fact he was french... He was overconfident and his intermittent French was disconcerting... As Rick began to subconsciously work on frowning, Gaston spoke to Tammy, quietly and, annoyingly, spaced with French...

Tammy turned to Rick and asked "Is it ok if I go and talk to Gaston for a while? I promised I would earlier." She smiled, and Rick smiled back.

"Sure go ahead, I have stuff to think about anyway..." he replied quietly. He watched as Tammy rose and left the table with Gaston. She glanced back once as if unsure she should be leaving, but Gaston had her hand and was pulling her gently but steadily toward his table. As Rick sat once again on his own he looked briefly about the room. He saw Warlord approaching from the drinks table and raised a glass to him. Warlord returned the gesture and at length took a seat opposite him.

As he sat, Rick asked Warlord, "Have you ever been in love?"

Warlord looked up uncertainly and replied, "I'm a soldier Rick, I don't have time for love..."

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"Love, comrades, is something that is an unnecessary burden to a soldier in the field," came a deep voice from behind the two.

 

"Wha-?" Rick said, turning to face the man. The man was about six feet tall, and heavily built. He had black hair, that was starting to turn grey.

 

"ß - Ãëàâíûé Èâàí Òîëñòîâè÷," the man said.

 

"Pardon?" Rick asked.

 

"Âû íå ãîâîðèòå Ãóññêèé? You do not speak Russian? Ah, I miss the days when Russia was at war with everyone. I am Major Ivan Tolstovich."

Warlord was nodding.

 

"You're late," Warlord commented.

 

"My flight from the United States was delayed. I just got in. I also had to clear up the last CIA group I was training. I am ready to begin my duties tommorow."

 

"What duties?" Rick asked.

 

"Nyet, you do not need to know yet. You will know tommorow morning. Until then, enjoy the party."

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~Intelligence Office~

 

"Sir, this just in from Office-15." Val Deacon an American Intelligence Operative, a desk jockey, handed him a folder with 'Classified' stamped on it.

 

John nodded to Deacon and took it turned around and entered his office closing the door behind him he sat down and opened the folder and pulled out a printed sheet from Office-15, the numbers were randomly generated just to disguise the true number of field offices and field agents, however there was at least one office in each of the funding nations, plus one or two in nations that weren't funding but were of interest... "Okay then lets see what we've got here?" He skimmed the report, nothing much of interest. Things were quiet out there in Japan. John knew that there was a party going on, or some sort of celebration going on, though that really wasn't his scene, though it would be interesting to watch how the people on the base interacted with each other. But he wasn't really interested in interacting with them. He was here to provide Intel, security checks and intercept leaks before they got out.

"Something isn't right here." All of the offices had orders not to break radio silence except at the end of each month for a monthly report, or for when something important had happened or was happening-

 

"Excuse me sir?"

 

He looked up. "Haven't you heard of knocking first and then coming in?" He sighed and placed the sheet back in the folder and then put it in his desk. "But seeing as you're here...what?"

 

Paul Johnson, one of the encryption specialists took another step into the office but still used the door almost like a shield. "Sir, er, we've noticed some anomalies..."

 

John just nodded.

 

"We've noticed access by an unidentified user to certain files on the main servers..." Paul took a deep breath, and looked to John awaiting his response.

 

Pickering reclined in his seat looking thoughtfully at Paul. "I presume that this ' user' had used the stations on the base?"

 

"Erm, yes sir, but..."

 

"But?"

 

Paul took another deep breath as he organised his thoughts. "We believe that this person used another station, and used a 'Trojan' to gain access to another station, and then used another 'Trojan' to access another station and again, before he accessed the main servers...oh and he had erased all records of his accessing the server..."

 

John rose from his seat and grabbed his jacket. "What are the file's?"

 

Half an hour later, the files had been pulled from the server and were now being analysed by the computer specialist, John looking around the Server office noticed a box marked. - 'Backup' "Paul, when were these backups made?"

 

"Erm, last night sir." Paul realising what Pickering was getting at then finished off. "But the files on the server that had been edited we believe had been done months ago." He frowned and then picked up the CD-R with the edited files. And then passed them over to John.

 

John took the CD and placed it into his briefcase. "Okay, so we know file's have been edited? Is there any way to narrow it down to what has been changed?"

 

"Doubtful, it might be possible but without the original files it'll be hard going." Paul looked tapped his fingers on the monitor.

 

John shook his head. "Do your best, and I want you to monitor access to the network" He looked at his watch. "Damn it's getting late." He left the office and walked along the corridor back to the Intelligence offices. he then handed the CD to Val. "Deacon, compare what's on this to the base manifests, supply lists, criminal records, - everything."

 

Val looked to him. "I was about to go to join the party...sir..."

 

"Well there'll be other parties, once the analysts get in tomorrow I want them to start work on this too, however you're to keep your mouth shut, I don't want this leaking out of the Intel Offices, I'm quite sure the base personnel don't want to know that they're all under investigation." He stared at Val he knew she would keep quiet and he was one of the few people that he 'trusted' not that he trusted people.

 

Val nodded and then walked to her desk.

 

John then left his office and then walked down the corridors down to where the party was going on. He checked his shoulder holster as he walked, his Glock 17 was there, he didn't like shoulder holsters mainly because you couldn't withdraw a gun as fast as a belt holster, but it did a good job of concealing his weapon, plus the way his jacket was made also hid it well. He door to the rec-room opened easily, he could see the party in full swing, he stood around looking for anybody he knew, though he knew most of the faces mainly through trailing through the base manifest and familiarising himself with faces that were on this base. He saw a table with a person often referred to as Trigger. He walked over to the table and sat down. The others at the table looked to him. "I presume this seat isn't taken?"

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Martin slowly and surely began to loosen up at the New Year's party after his armwrestling contest with Warlord. He started to talk to people a lot more and was also much more interested in them, though not just in the cold rational sense but also on a more personal basis. He never really found a person with which he could stay and talk for a longer period of time, but despite that fact he still felt quite OK. "Must've released some of my tension through that contest." he thought to himself, almost completely forgetting about the corporation's instructions to steal plans from X-Com.

 

Just as he was ready to approach Tammy after being denied the chance of having a conversation with her twice before, his sixth sense told him that for some reason he had better turn around. Sure enough as he slowly turned his head he noticed a figure entering the room and Martin recognized it quickly. The corporation had warned him of the intelligence officer Pickering.

 

Martin's mind experienced a short burst of panic before he collected his thoughts and began to ask himself why the man had come to the party? With ordinary people it was so much easier since they were definately here just to have a good time, whilst those serving in Intelligence divisions could quite easily be applying their skills in ordinary situations. Martin wondered if Pickering had come to the party on a casual basis, or perhaps on a formal one. Terrick decided to steer clear of the Intelligence Officer, since either way he would no doubt be capable of eventually seeing through Martin's disguise. He stepped behind Bruheme, the large man easily preventing Pickering from spotting Martin.

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Trigger looked surprised for a second before he responded. "It's free now but it won't be for long."

John sat down and looked quizically at Trigger.

"She's gone to the toilet, but she'll be back in a few minutes."

"Oh right, well I won't stay long but I've been shut up all day and I thought I'd come and have a bit of a break. Talk to a few people."

"You're welcome to the seat as long as it's free," replied Trigger raising his glass a little. "So what's your position? I don't think I've seen you before now."

"Nothing so interesting as what you do I'm sure. Just a lot of paperwork mostly."

"Hmm, sounds like you're lucky they let you out. I heard the office staff were all swamped right now..."

"Yeah there's a lot going on all right," said John trying to avoid the inevitable question. "I've just come for my break. They can't expect solid work from us, even in a job like this."

"So what department are you?" asked Trigger.

"Intelligence," said John quietly, "but I'm here socially."

Trigger laughed. "Don't worry, I don't care if you are here to investigate me, I'm having a good time. Besides, it's not like I have anything to hide."

"Well that's good, it means I really can relax"

Trigger laughed, "here she is."

"I guess that's my signal to go and get a drink" said John turning to see Gia approaching.

"Yeah, one more thing though..."

"What's that?" said John standing to leave.

"Take it easy John, you're so tense I can see straight through you."

John loked puzzled and watched as a broad grin crossed Trigger's face.

"I'm a pilot, you know that. And you know how much spare time my training leaves me with. I'm pretty much free to come and go as I please so I took the liberty of checking out what went on behind the scenes. You were one of those things..."

"And you say you have nothing to hide? You're a tricky character... I think I'll do well to keep my eye on you." John let a grin cross his face and then slowly turned and left.

"Who was that?" said Gia as she took her seat back.

"That was John Pickering..." said Trigger still watching him as he reached the drinks table.

"Who's he?"

"He's intelligence. One of the best we have. I've been seeing a lot of him lately..."

Gia stared at Trigger, deep in thought. "TJ what did you do?"

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Pickering walking away from the table as the young lady...Gia? arrived to take back her seat. Stepping around groups of people that talked he picked up little snippet's of conversations, nothing of real interest but worthy of keeping at the back of his mind, you never really knew what was important and what wasn't until you had all of the pieces of the puzzle. Over to his far left was striking woman dressed in a red dress, th face easily betraying who she was, Tammy. Meanwhile to his right was a large burly man...Bruheme, Heavy Weapons, American, not much else to be said once you met him in person.

 

John didn't spot Martin who was keeping Bruheme between him and Pickering, but he did hear his voice, the accent Japanese stood out from most of the other accents, but John thought nothing of it, though he did feel something was not in it's place here...that or someone.

 

John kept walking on looking around taking note of whose face's were here and whose weren't, arriving at the bar he found two of the bases scientists. Doctor's Gomez and Zager, both speaking in something that resembled...Italian? Or was it French? The situation put a simile on his face. He could speak Russian, Chinese, very poor Japanese and his European languages, French, German and the suchlike were rusty but he knew them. He ordered a coke, though something with alcohol in it would of been more preferable he knew that his mind should be kept sharp, and anyway, unlike everyone here he didn't want a hangover. Latin! His mind shouted realising what the language the two were using, though he knew no Latin whatsoever he did pickup on certain keywords. 'Laser' being one of them. Laser Technology. He was tempted to take the two gentlemen outside and remind of the security issue's, talking about such research, even though it was in Latin, with so many ears about, was a dangerous game. No lets not attract attention to yourself, I'll just send a Memo to them reminding them of security issue's. No doubt both gentlemen would find the memo, either very disturbing, or very amusing or both.

 

He swung around on the barstool, and with half his mind concentrating on the conversation, where he picked up several other words, that had to come out in English as there was no Latin word or words for them. While his other half scanned around the rec-room. So many people here, be a good opportunity to get some espionage with the most of the base's personnel all gathered here in this one room. While he studied the people around him and their body language he pondered whether to mingle with the people at the party, but decided against it - for now anyway.

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Hankosha was sitting in his room. He had gotten bored of the party. Hankosha suddenly had an idea, and pulled out his laptop. Putting it next to one of his books he started to acces the main computer. He came upon the computer, but was promptly turned away by the heavy encryption. He thought for a moment, then pulled out a sheaf of paper from his back pocket, and poured himself a glass of espresso to wake him up. It was going to be a long night...

 

...Half an hour later, Hankosha looked at his computer and grinned. He had just gotten around the encryption. He started looking over the profiles of the people at the base. He quickly skimmed each one, but one caught his eye. He put it back on the screen. He looked over the profile. He looked it over and over again, and something didn't seem to click. He reached to turn on his printer and print out the profile but his hand bumped the forgotten espresso, which spilled onto the laptop, shorting out the computer. Hankosha swore. He would have to get a new computer and hack the encryption all over again. He thought back for a second ... Martins... the name seemed familiar.... Martins... Hankosha headed back to the party, wondering where he had heard that name before.

 

Reaching into his pocket, Hankosha felt several small vials in his pocket. He pulled one out one of the vials. He suddenly slapped himself for forgetting about the snap powder. He headed for the party. It was about to get a whole lot more interesting.

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~Main Server Office~

 

Paul was sat with a cup of coffee on the desk, he had his feet up and was drifiting off to sleep, he was supposed to of been replaced half an hour ago by Jimbo Abrams, who no doubt would either be alseep or at the party...or both, lucky bugger. His eye's closed for a few moments and slowly drifted to sleep.

 

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! "Huh?" Startled he kicked his legs off the desk, the wheels on his chair moved and Paul fell back with a thudd. "Ugh! Knew I should of stayed in bed today..." He got up and looked at the monitor. "Oh no."

 

~Rec-Room, Party~

 

John was still leaning against the bar when his phone went off. He pulled out his phone and walked over to the toliets, he entered the mens and answered the call. "Pickering."

 

"Sir, we had an unauthorised access of the main servers, the files that were accessed were the base mainfests, we...um, didn't pick up the incursion until it was too late, so we wern't able to trace the computer." Paul's voice trailed off at that point.

 

Pickering frowned, the mens toliets were empty so no one would be listening. "Looks like we may have found our mole..." He whispered to himself.

 

"Pardon?"

 

"Never mind, what else can you tell me about what happened?" John was now leaning against the sink, behind was the mirror reflection of him on the phone.

 

Paul paused for a moment before he replied. "Uhm, they disconnected from the servers only 5 minutes ago after accessing the sever for a few minutes."

 

John's eyes went wide and he quickly left the mens, his phone still to his ear as he entered back into the party. If the mole had accessed the server a few moments ago then he...or she if they made the mistake, would be coming to the party. "Hold on." He said into the phone as he ended the call and walked over to the main entrance, he looked around to see if he could spot any faces that he hadn't seen before. Arriving at the door he then relaxed his exterior and looked around the party floor. There were a few new faces, or at least faces he hadn't spotted when he was by the bar. When the doors to the rec-room opened.

 

Nathaniel Jacobson - Hankosha.

 

Hankosha entered the party and started walking over to his friends. John pushed him self off the wall. He didn't beleive in coinsidences, the timing was too good. He trailed Hankosha from a distance, looking quite normal he avoided staring at Hankosha as he followed using his perhiperial vision to keep a track on him as the two men filtered through the crowds of X-Com personnel enjoying themselves. John slipped his hand into his jacket, though it would look like he was just checking his mobile he had checked his pistol and checked that the holster's buckle was detached. He then took his hand out of his jacket and carried on following Hankosha from a safe distance.

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Once Gaston had led Tammy effortlessly through the crowd, she found herself seated comfortably in a relatively secluded corner. Obviously the Frenchman didn't plan to share her attention, she thought with some amusement. She hoped he wouldn't be too disappointed when she didn't stay long. There were quite a few other people at the party, and she intended to get to know some of them better. For now, though, she was content to enjoy the company of the smooth-talking Gaston. She smiled up at him as he offered her a drink and took at seat next to her. He took her hand and kissed it again, speaking French words that she couldn't translate literally, but whose meaning was very clear. Tammy found herself blushing a bit. She was certainly accustomed to male attention, but Gaston had a way of making her feel as if she were the only woman in the room.

 

She tore attention away from Gaston's endearments for a moment as she spotted John Pickering passing nearby. She raised her hand to wave, but he appeared not to see and disappeared into the men's room. He'd appeared a little agitated, but she didn't really know him that well, so she couldn't be sure. Gaston's hand on her cheek turned her face and her attention back to him and she decided to settle for a mental note to get to know Pickering later that evening if she had an opportunity.

 

"May I call you Tamara? I find that name so exotic and alluring. It suits your raven-haired beauty perfectly," Gaston murmured close to her ear. Tammy shivered a little and nodded. She had the distinct impression that if she turned her head, he would kiss her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted that or not. He was certainly sexy and sophisticated. On the other hand, she'd met plenty of sexy and sophisticated men, and ultimately, she needed more from a man than extravagant compliments and his undivided attention, alluring though that combination was. She found her thoughts drifting back to the look on Rick's face when she'd glanced back as she was leaving him. She made up her mind to find him again before the evening was over.

 

 

***********************************************************

 

Poison arrived at the party feeling somewhat nervous. She laughed a little at the thought that she could stand up to armed thugs but trembled at the thought of walking into a room full of people in a dress that she knew made her look exceptionally beautiful. Her black hair and large green eyes were set off dramatically by the black fabric covered with shiny black sequins. She entered and sat down, crossing one shapely leg over the other. More than one guy walked over to her with the obvious intention of joining her only to blink in surprise and back away mumbling an apology for disturbing her. After the third such aborted attempt, she thought to herself that maybe she should consider being a bit more friendly after all. At that moment, Sandy appeared and glanced in her direction. He stopped in his tracks and looked again. He stood there for several seconds, appearing unsure what to do. Having already gotten fairly comfortable with the big redhead, she smiled and patted the seat next to her, inviting him to join her. Several of the other men stopped their conversations and watched when they realized that he was headed in her directions, and some even placed wagers that he wouldn't last two minutes. A few minutes later, more than a few of them were wondering if maybe there was more to Sandy than they had first thought.

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When poison had arrived a little over ten minutes ago Rick had been deep in conversation with Warlord and the Russian Major whom he was yet to learn anything about. Now that both of these men had left however he noticed that Poison was talking to Sandy. Rick had no impression of Sandy other than the fact he was clearly missing something. A good soldier though, and when they'd spoken at lunch the previous day Rick thought he'd come over as a pretty decent guy.

Now Rick sat alone again, and he watched the two soldiers talking and apparently communicating, which in his experience were two completely deifferent things. As he watched, Sandy finished whatever conversation they were having and left Poison to her thoughts.

Rick thought for a moment before picking up his drinks and heading over to where she was sitting. Unsurprisingly she knew he was coming before he was even there. She looked up at him and eyed his two glasses suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?" she asked cooly.

This was what Rick was dreading. It was clear to him that although Poison didn't seem to hold a dislike of him yet, Tammy had discussed his views with her. This could be messy he thought...

"I just wondered if I could join you for a while." said Rick slightly nervously. "You don't seem to have much company tonight..."

"Yeah, well, I notice you seem to be wandering around alone yourself." replied Poison rather coldly.

"That's because I wondered if I could borrow your company for a while. I didn't think to bring anyone for backup..." said Rick trying to maintain a friendly attitude which, already was becoming difficult.

"Well, this seat is free, I guess. Help yourself."

"I don't want to be here unless you'll talk to me. Do you want me to go back over there? Then we can both sit alone for another fifteen minutes." Rick gestured to across the room where his table stood empty save for his last two empty glasses.

Poison sighed. "No, I don't want that. Sorry to be rude, but I'm not sure why you want to talk to me. I mean everybody knows... that is... well... never mind. Let me start over. Please have a seat, join me."

"Thanks I'd love to," said Rick smiling and taking a seat. Poison shook her head at her clumsy attempt at civility. "Now what does everyone know?" he asked.

"Oh lots of things... their multiplication facts, their alphabet, you know... Okay, I shouldn't have said that. I'm just not good at talking to people. It just seems strange for someone of your... views to want to sit and talk with a female soldier."

"Ah, I thought that was what you were getting at. That's why I wanted to talk to you too..." said Rick sitting back.

"Oh?" said Poison in surprise.

"I've been watching you during training. You know your medic friend is quite fond of you? She says nothing but good things about you..." Poison said nothing and simply continued to wait for an answer. "Anyway, you're a good soldier. You learned in an unconventional way I'd wager but you are good at what you're here to do."

"Um....thank you," said Poison uncertainly.

"You see, I'm not all about my views and opinions. I hate most French men with a loathing but the guy who cuts my hair was born in Normandy"

"Tammy got to you, didn't she?" said Poison suddenly. "How does she do that?"

"It wasn't Tammy. I don't like being tampered with. Not by men, women, or Tammy..." said Rick.

"No, no, I don't mean tampered with really. She just has this way of talking to people. Anyway, I appreciate the compliment. It means a lot coming from you." said Poison loosening up slightly.

"It took a lot to say, but it's true and I do mean it. There are a lot of people here I wouldn't like to serve with. And none of them are women... I think I'd like a chance to serve alongside you sometime..." Rick looked thoughtfully at Poison who averted her gaze feeling suddenly somewhat uneasy around this man.

After a long pause Poison looked up and said "I don't know what to say. This is just so surprising. I'm sure that you'd be a good man to have in any squad yourself. Tammy seems to think pretty highly of you, too."

"This is certainly going a lot better than I'd expected," said Rick smiling. "Can I interest you in a drink?"

"Well, you do seem to have an extra one," replied Poison showing Rick the first glimpse of a grin.

"You're a beer drinker? You really are an interesting person," said Rick pushing one glass to the middle of the table. "It's yours if you want it. I'd best not have much more tonight anyway."

"I dunno. I'm not a big drinker myself. Have to be alert on the streets..." Poison trailed off and looked away again.

"What's this?" said rick smiling. "I didn't think embarrassment was one of your emotions?"

"Well, here I am with all these sophisticated people. I'm wearing this dress! I guess I'd almost forgotten for a minute where I came from."

"I don't see the problem... You look beautiful in that dress and if you take the time to look around, you'll see that noone here is that different from you."

"You know, until I wound up rooming with Tammy, I really expected to be a loner here. She doesn't much let people be loners, does she?" Poison chuckled. "Then Sandy, and now you, all talking to me as if I really could fit in here. It just feels strange to me."

"You're a good soldier, why wouldn't you fit in here? I don't know if that's a good thing or not but I really don't see what's strange about it..."

"Well, the soldiering part doesn't feel so strange. I've always fought alongside people. It's something else. I don't even know how to explain it. Okay, let me give you an example..." Rick sat back in his chair and folded his arms casually. "One night not long ago, Tammy and I were talking, and suddenly I realized that she really wanted to know what had happened to me. Nobody's ever wanted to know what's happened to me or how I felt about it. And Sandy....he opened a door for me this afternoon. I'm just not used to that kind of thing..."

"Tell me, when did you first kill?" asked Rick simply. Poison hesitated, biting her lip nervously. "Go on, I've probably heard worse from somewhere..."

"Well, I always had a hard time keeping up with my exact age because I don't know how old I was when I first learned about counting years..." Rick smiled slightly but Poison continued. "But the best I can figure, I was eight years old. An old drunk tried to rip my shirt off and I pulled my knife out of my sock. It was messy because I didn't really know how yet, but he was too drunk to fight back."

"You're sure you were eight?" asked Rick half in scepticism, half in surprise.

"No, not sure, but I had only counted four years since I started counting, and I was pretty small when somebody explained it to me. I couldn't have been more than ten, I don't think. I wish I could tell you how many over the years, but the truth is that there have been too many and it's usually too fast and confused to count. So, yes, the people here are different from me. They've had birthday parties and killed people in the line of duty if at all. I don't even know how old I am and started killing when they were still too young to wear makeup."

"Well you had at least two years up on me... I was twelve. I didn't know my years either but I had people who did. My dad was an operative in some African campaign or another. Years ago... Way back before I was even thought of... Anyway, he'd always had it in his head that I'd follow in the old mans footsteps. So I started shooting at ten... As soon as I could stand the force of it... We lived in a rural part of Scotland. I always liked to think of myself as British though. Both of my parents were... By my eleventh birthday I knew I didn't want to do what my dad had done but I was getting pretty good with a gun. For my birthday that year, my dad gave me this..." Rick drew his sidearm from underneath his jacket. It was far more imposing than the story had suggested. "I was eleven years old..." Rick paused and looked at the gun. So many memories, so much blood... "I kept on training to please my dad, but I went through college all the same 'you can't get into the forces on muscle and no brains.' my dad used to say. A year later I was on my way home from college. I always had a fair walk as it was a rural area like I said... The road I used was very remote and our house was as far out as anyone ever went unless they were leaving the area. So I had no idea that there was anyone already home when I got there. To this day I don't know who it was but I saw someone in the house with a knife. I went inside and found where my dad kept this gun, until I was older it stayed there. I got it out and went to where this guy was. He was just searching the house, so I tried to scare him away. With me not wanting to join the military, I knew nothing about pretty much anything to do with it... He wasn't scared, he just laughed... He came closer and I warned him... But he kept coming closer, and he kept on laughing at me..." Rick fell silent, and looked away himself.

"Yeah, I've been there." said Poison quietly.

"When my dad got home, he just found me sitting on the floor and the guy down in front of me. The gun was on the table, one shell lay on the ground... And that was it. In one split second and with a single bullet, I changed the entire course of my life. Ever after that day I strived to become the best there was. I still attempted university after college but I bailed out in the first year. I'd lost that side of me six years ago..."

"Well, whatever it is that's going on, I'm sure you'll be a good soldier to have on our side." said Poison finding herself trying to raise his spirits.

"I hope so... But do you see? You're not so different? If anything you're far better off than I'll ever be. You've fought your whole life just to stay one step ahead. I've forced this upon myself. How will I ever understand what it is to really fight?"

"Sounds like to me that you know better than most."

"I don't know. I kill people for a living... That's how I see it. I've never really had to fight. I just see someone and, that's it..."

"You think it's some kind of mystical experience for me?" asked Poison slightly irritated.

"I have no idea what it is for you..." said Rick quietly. "I just can't help but wonder what could have been..."

"I'll tell you what it's like for me... I see somebody who wants to kill me and I stop him. That's all."

"I guess I'm the other way..." said Rick. "I see someone I want dead, then I kill them."

"Well, either one should work fine on the battlefield, don't you think?"

Poison smiled, and took the glass from the middle of the table.

Rick smiled back and raised his glass. "Cheers," he said smiling, and together, they drank.

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Whilst the party went on and on it was getting closer and closer to midnight. And Martin wouldn't let Pickering out of his sights. Just one time that he would've failed to keep track of him and chances could be that he'd surprise Terrick and thus also make it impossible for him to prepare any type of smokescreen. He kept observing him, whilst also partially noticing an intense talk between Andrews and Rick. He never got to know either one of them too much but what he did know about them both is that they had a tough time growing up. He didn't even need to see any file in order to notice that, since it was quite obvious from their interactions with other people. He started to consider what kinds of problems each had, but his instinct clicked in and told him that Pickering had just changed his walking tempo.

 

He didn't even notice the intelligence officer enter the bathroom, only when he had exited did Martin begin to pay attention to him. On his face there was a sense of urgency and considering his job at X-Com, Martin became afraid for a moment that his intrusion in the offices was discovered already. If that were to be true, then he could certainly say that his infiltration skills were useless. But Pickering didn't seem as if he was looking for him, since if he was he would be looking around the room for him and not at the entrance of the room as he was currently doing. Upon spotting a late arrival he made his way towards him and began to move closer and closer to him.

 

Martin relaxed for a moment but then thought to himself. Hankosha is a spy as well? How can that be? The corporation was almost certainly the only organization apart from several world countries which knew of X-Com's existance. So how could this be another spy? Or maybe they decided to place him here so as to keep an eye on Martin and to make sure that he fulfilled his orders? But that wouldn't make sense! Any experienced infiltrator would know better than to expose himself like that, especially if his orders were only to observe another agent. No no. This had to be something else. But whatever it was, Martin was sure of one thing. This is something to exploit. The next time suspicious activity arises, his best bet would be to frame Hankosha. If he could manage that, then he could also afford any slight mistake he would make. Yes indeed. This was certainly something to take advantage of in the future.

 

Martin now stopped observing Pickering since he knew all too well that he would be busy right now either lecturing Hankosha or already taking him away for questioning. He returned to the party and tried to spot any other person that was currently talking. Still it can't be a scientist, otherwise they might later report that he was interested in technical specifications and if something else also came up at that time, he would be exposed. But he did decide to move close to a group of scientists and try to catch as much as possible from their conversation. It would have to do for now...

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Can't think straight. Can't see straight. Everything is dizzy. What's happening? Can't figure it out. Need something.

It's important. Noises around me, can't figure them out, something happerning. What is it I need? Something...

Ah yes, I need another drink.

Keller, positively smashed, stumbled her way over to the drinks and somehow lined up her spinning vision of her

hand with the spinning vision of the glass. While drinking, she fought down the overwhelming urge to vomit for the

umpteenth time that evening. It was her personal challenge to herself. Don't throw up all evening, even if you get

jaundice from it. She wouldn't remember to be proud of it tomorrow, but hey.

After returning from the washroom and another half-bottle of water, Keller noticed people had stopped moving around

so much, which meant she didn't run into quite so many. Everyone was staring up at the wall. Why would that be?

Wait...was it nearing midnight? It was New Years, wasn't it? She strained her thoughts. Yes, she was almost somewhat

sure it was New Years.

One enthusiastic voice piped up in the near silence.

"Fifteen! Fourteen"

Through some miracle of military discipline Keller pulled herself up to stand at attention. She attempted to stare

at the clock but in her condition everything was blurry.

"Nine! Eight"

With a shock Keller realized what was missing - she wasn't counting! She began to giggle - then caught herself. She

had literally seconds to rectify the situation.

"Five"

For the life of her Keller couldn't remember what words in the English language came below five.

"Four"

Unable to remember basic English, Keller shouted out the remaining words in French, something she was equally

adept in, especially from her childhood in Ottawa.

"Trois! Deux! Un"

"Zero" The crowd cheered in unison as the hands on the clock met. Keller was slammed with a lot of yelling, shouting,

cheering and whatever else people felt was due to bring in 1999. Keller, unsure of what to do, grabbed the person

wearing pants and gave him a huge smack on the lips.

After a second, Keller moved back and tried to identify her partner. Before she could get her vision to clear, however,

she felt the angry pull of unconsciousness.

Keller grinned at whoever it was she just kissed. "Please don't let my drown in my vomit," she said, remarkably

clearly, immdiately before falling against the person, hoping he would at least catch her as she passed out.

Gardener, Keller in his arms, was momentarily shocked. He looked up to see a number of people looking at him.

"What?" He cried defensively, in response to the stares. "I don't know"

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"TJ, what did you do?"

"Well, I just wandered the base, out of boredom. I've seen the renovations going on in most of the sublevels - this was last month, before they activated the security measures. There was nothing to protect down there yet anyway. And you get to pick up on all the gossip by being able to say hello to everybody."

"So you're not really trying to provoke the security forces. That's a relief."

"No, just bored. Woudn't you be?"

"Of course not. I mean, I haven't been here that long, but every day is such a buzz."

"It shows when you get in that aircraft, alright. You weren't scared off by the crash? What's so interesting about this job - for you, I mean?"

Gia leaned back in disbelief.

"Wow, TJ, you're just full of surprises."

"Why? What did I do?"

"Would you believe that's only the third time a guy's asked me what I'm interested in. And of the first two, one of them was just a smooth talker with a good technique. All the other pilots I've- well, other pilots I've dated, in Nellis, Pensacola, Groom Lake - were either big on themselves or on the stunts they've pulled, all macho posturing."

"Hah! I'd like to see them try to outfly me"

"Well, you've got a competitive streak a mile wide, TJ, but it's nice to know you're still interested in women." She took a drink.

TJ looked at her quizzically. His eyes wandered. Crossed legs. Gold dress revealing a shapely calf. Well, she certainly was a woman. "A lot of guys are."

She broke into her trademark grin. "As people, I mean. Although the other aspect is also appreciated." She reached over and straightened his shirt collar. "In fact, how about that dance?"

 

Trigger took another swig of his drink, doffed his jacket, and permitted himself to be led to the dance floor. Luckily it was an Elvis song and he managed to at least get another genuine grin out of Gia with his cheesy impersonation. She had the better drawl, though - hers was natural.

 

Just then they heard Tammy's shout. "Fifteen seconds" TJ checked his watch. Wow, that was quick. Gia joined in the countdown so he did too.

 

The clock struck twelve. "Zero" shouted the partygoers. "Happy New Year" shouted Gia, and kissed him full on the lips. To TJ's credit, he recovered shortly and remembered to kiss back. He thought he heard fireworks.

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"Care for a kiss?" Gaston inquired, just after the countdown.

 

"Well, it is tradition, isn't it?" smiled Tammy. "Certainly."

 

Gaston leaned forward, a slight grin on his face, then wrapped his arms around Tammy, and passionately kissed her on the lips.

 

She responded to the kiss a little more warmly than she had intended to and found herself a little breathless when it ended. She sat for a moment trying to think of something to say, finally settling for the unoriginal response of "Happy New Year"

 

"Oui, happy new year! Allow me to pour you some more wine," Gaston said, reaching for the bottle.

 

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think maybe I shouldn't," she replied, pulling her glass away.

 

"It is New Year's eve, it is a time to celebrate," he pressed. "Ah well, if you really do not want it..."

 

"I appreciate the offer, but I think I'd better stay alert. You never know when an emergency will arise. Why don't we talk a bit more instead?" she responded. "How did you come to be here?"

 

"I was transferred from the French Marine Corps," Gaston stated. "I was the demolitions expert in our squad, and was thus selected to be the demolitions expert for X-COM. I have much experience in the field, and I am proud to say that I am one of the best explosives officer in the world."

 

"Ah, I can see the allure of demolitions. Blowing things up can be great fun."

 

"Oui, there is nothing more fascinating or exciting than carefully planting some plastique, then pushing a detonator and watching a building fall apart section by section."

 

"Unless you happen to be the owner of the building and want to keep it intact, I suppose. That could be rather distressing."

 

Gaston shrugged. "Given that most of my tour of duty was served against terrorist organizations, I had a tendency to ignore their complaints."

 

Tammy chuckled. "Understandably so. I hope you'll be equally insensitive to the enemy's wishes now. I certainly intend to be."

 

"Moi aussi. So, tell me, how did a beautiful girl like you get into a black ops paramilitary organization like this?" Gaston asked, chuckling as well.

 

"You mean black ops paramilitary organizations aren't fully staffed by beautiful women? That seems a shame. We could just dazzle the enemy with our smiles, and no one would get hurt," she winked. Gaston, however, noticed that she did not answer his question.

 

"Except for militant female liberation terrorist groups. But really, where are you from?"

 

"Well, that's a long and no doubt fascinating, but mostly classified story," she winked. "The publicly available information is that I was associated with the marines as a medical officer for special operations."

 

"And the private information?" Gaston inquired. "Or do I not have the security clearance for that?"

 

"Not unless certain officers tell me so, I'm afraid. Good looks and charm just won't buy you clearance."

 

"Sacre bleu, that must have been an extrordinarily sensetive operation."

 

"You could say that. I'm just lucky they didn't decide to kill me after it was over to keep me from talking." It wasn't perfectly clear from her expression whether or not she was joking.

 

"I have been involved in sensetive operations, but never on the scale you are talking about. Possibly because I spent a year as a mercenary between my first and second tours of duty."

 

"I can't say it is exactly usual for me, either. To be honest, I think I can probably tell you that it seems to be connected to our current mission in some way. I suppose we will reach a point that it will become common knowledge among the people here, but until then, I have to keep my mouth shut, I'm afraid."

 

"Fair enough, I wouldn't ask you to violate orders. Did you see who is in charge of training?" Gaston stated, changing the subject.

 

"I don't think we've met yet. I was pretty busy today between paintball, medical facilities training, and helping with the decorations here. Have you?"

 

"Yes, it is Ivan Tolstovich. I have heard of him. It will be an honor to be trained by him."

 

"He sounds fascinating. I'm sure I'll meet him soon enough though. Do you think he'll attend the party?"

 

"I saw him here, though from what I have heard, he does not drink alcohol. His nephew is an alcoholic, according to the rumors I've heard."

 

"You know, as much as I'm enjoying your company here, and it is delightful, I assure you, I suppose I should circulate a bit. The whole idea of the party, I think, is to get to know one another before we have to go into the field together. Will you be terribly disappointed if I wander around a bit? I'm sure we will see each other again before the evening is over."

 

"Very well then, if you say so. I look forward to meeting you again."

 

"For one thing, I'd like to meet this Major you speak of, and there are a few other people here who might be good to know if I ever need to get something done. Sometimes it's not what you know, but rather whom you know."

 

"Oui, c'est vrai."

 

"Have a wonderful evening, and I hope to have another opportunity to enjoy your company. I have a feeling that we will be a pretty closed community, so I'm sure that we will have many opportunities."

 

"Farewell."

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Dherzhin heard the countdown over the PA system in the Hangar. He was on duty for New Year's, and so had had to miss the tail end of the party. Sure, he *could* have foisted the duty on someone else, but... no, better to let them enjoy the party.

 

He'd heard some rumours about laser weapons being built down in the workshops. Why not aircraft-mounted laser cannon? he wondered to himself, checking over the landing gear of the Interceptor. I suppose they'll let me know when they have a prototype... He set the thought aside, and scanned the hangar.

 

Why do I feel like I'm being watched? he wondered. He scanned the hangar again - nothing. He chuckled to himself at his paranoia - then stopped when he caught a glimpse, out of the corner of his eye, of a shadow moving between stacked crates in the corner of the hangar. Whatever - or whoever - it was, he was going to find out. He started walking, quietly, towards the spot where he'd seen the shadow, carrying a heavy wrench in his hand. He turned the corner...

 

Nothing. He laughed with relief - then stopped. What if he *had* seen a snooper? Who could it possibly have been? And why the hangar? Dherzhin sighed, shrugged, and walked back to his "office". Nothing to do but wait...

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Hankosha walked on, he then joined a group of people and then everyone turned to the clock and started counting down, him watching Hankosha would be a little more obvious than he would like, but only a trained eye would know what to look for. Great! Just bloody great! He made his way to the back of the room where there were less people about, he could see Hankosha, though he knew he wouldn't be going anywhere.

 

The people around him shouted in unison 5...4...3...2...1... And then everyone started celebrating, except for John who just quietly watched everyone celebrating, though he kept an eye hovering on Hankosha. As he watched the man interacting with his friends John felt a gut feeling, he wasn't sure, it had been a long time since he wasn't sure about something. He may not be the hacker...but he may lead to me to the one...if it isn't him. He carried on this line of thought until he was interrupted by one of the staff who came and hugged him yelling. 'Happy New Year!' John returned the hug and hoped that the person hadn't felt the gun under his jacket. "Same to you mate." He said as the person moved onto another victim.

 

Then in the corner of his eye he saw that Tammy was now free. Hankosha isn't going anywhere fast. Thought John as he pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to pushing his way occasionally shaking a persons hand as he made his way over to Tammy, a young gentleman was stood in his way. "Excuse me." Said John fairly sternly.

 

The young man's body language tightened up and he moved out of John's way, but avoided looking John in the face. "Sorry." He said and then he started walking away.

 

John placed his hand on the person's shoulder. "Hey no problem - and happy New Year." He felt slightly guilty about being so rude and harsh on the young man, John then nodded to the man and then carried on walking towards Tammy, he walked up to her and saw her looking over to another person...Gaston? Yeah that must be the guy's name. "Your boyfriend?" Said John to Tammy bluntly.

 

Her head turned to John and looked at him with a quizzical expression.

 

John smiled. "I'm sorry, I forgot my manners." He offered his hand. "John Pickering, Intelligence Division." She took his hand, her hand felt warm and tender and at the same time firm and strong.

 

"I'm Tammy, Combat Medic." Replied Tammy.

 

John already knew that, and he knew more about her and most of the base personnel than they probably knew about themselves. "So is he?" John nodding his head in the direction of Gaston.

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"Oh, not at all, really. Gaston just loves beautiful women. I can't imagine that he's going to settle down with one anytime soon," Tammy chuckled. "Besides, I'm unattached myself," she winked.

 

John knew that she'd come in with Warlord and had seen her with him several times. It was his job to be observant. He was debating asking her about him when she took the decision out of his hands.

 

"In fact, now that you mention it, there seem to be quite a few people who think that Warlord there is my boyfriend," she began. "He's a great guy, of course, but there's no real relationship there. If I were transferred to another base tonight, he'd forget me by sundown tomorrow," she laughed. "What about yourself? Is some woman going to be giving me dirty looks if you and I go get a snack and have a seat to get better acquainted?"

 

Pickering found himself drawn to this combination of beauty and charm. He debated whether it was a good idea to give in to this feeling and risk losing sight of Hankosha. She seemed to have a way of taking up the whole field of his vision despite her slender build. He decided that it was at least partly because she seemed to be devoting her entire attention to him, which was both enticing and a little uncomfortable. Intelligence officers were supposed to keep a low profile. In the end, he decided that it was time he had some fun tonight and that there were other people on duty.

 

"If you'll excuse me for about two minutes, I would love to join you. I just need to check on something. Don't let anyone else spirit you away while I'm gone," he winked, but seemed at least a little concerned that someone really might.

 

"I'll be right here, I promise," she smiled.

 

He returned her smile for a few seconds and then appeared to remember that he needed to make sure someone was watching Hankosha for the next half-hour or so. He slipped away to a quiet corner and made a quick phone call in carefully coded terms, and came back to find Tammy standing exactly where he'd left her, still smiling at him.

 

"Now, let's see what we can find to eat," she suggested. "Then we can settle down and get to know one another."

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Hankosha dissapeared through the crowds. He had spotted the man tailing him, and realized his hacking had been detected. He had been sloppy, and hadn't had time to cover his tracks. Hankosha reached into his pocket. Yes, the canisters of snap powder were still there. He figured now was as good a time as any to use them. He grabbed a canister, and threw it gently, so as not to injure anyone, onto one of the tables. The powder exploded in a briliant flash of light, and someone drunk took that time to get up onto the table and start dancing. It made it seem as though that person had appeared from out of thin air.

 

Unfortunately, Hankosha had attracted the security officer's attention. Hankosha chucked several more canisters in several directions, then pulled out a slightly larger canister. He closed his eyes, and chucked the canister down. The canister exploded in a brilliant flash of light, and Hankosha moved from the location. He looked behind him, and saw the security officer, obviously disoriented, but still looking for him. He reached into his pocket, and felt for his ancient good luck charm. He pulled it out, and started towards his room.

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Wexford and his friends had been congratulating themselves on their duct tape prank for an hour. The guy had looked so funny. And it was his own fault, anyway, for falling asleep after one glass of wine. And what kind of geek brought a book to a party anyway?

 

When the flash powder had gone off, Wexford had thrown himself backwards in panic, knocking over a couple of tables - one of them being where more of Squad 2 were sitting - and spilling his drink on himself. On his crotch, to be precise. The next thing he was aware of was Green and Hiro laughing at his wet pants. He slunk off at that point to get away from the embarassment. Eventually Green had returned to more serious matters - his own drink, very nearly full, had been spilled.

 

The reactions among the partygoers had been varied. A few panicked, sending people and drinks flying. Some of the trained soldiers instinctively threw themselves flat for a second. Many didn't notice, due to the high ambient level of the music and conversation.

 

Jasper had noticed, and his mind had moved quickly. Mostly by luck his quick scan of the crowd had spotted one person who had been in a position to see the flashes, and who had been smiling to themselves - the reaction of the perpetrator - Hankosha. But he hadn't done anything at the time, after all, it didn't look like the intention was to hurt anyone, and he wasn't base security anyway. Maybe he'd tell one of the MIB's he knew later.

 

***

A couple of hours later, after midnight, the party was still going on. After talking about the glow from Terrick's videophone, and a few other curious items of base life, Green had drunk more beer and now wasn't really up to intelligent conversation. He staggered up to Jasper.

 

"I hear you used to be a pretty good sniper too."

"Yes, before I moved into intelligence, I was." He eyed Green warily.

"Army not good enough for you, spook?"

"Oh *please*." Jasper raised an eyebrow.

"You're probably all jealous that we showed up here and spoiled your private party."

"Nothing of the sort."

"Well, let me tell you I could have done without being demoted and sent to this backwater. I have never seen a crazier bunch of misfits nor a crazier reason for a combat team in my life."

"No look - I saw a landing site, civilians were killed.." He sensed Green wasn't listening.

"And to top it all off, I lost a perfectly good beer when the bangers went off."

Jasper was irritated. "Look, there's the guy over there who threw the flashbangs." Green followed the line of his finger and lurched off towards Hankosha.

It was justice of a sort, Jasper supposed.

 

 

Hankosha was reaching into his pocket to play with his dragon when a hand came down on his shoulder. He spun around and got a wave of boozy breath from Green, the sniper from Squad 2.

 

"You spilled my beer," said Green, with menace.

"I spilled your beer?" said Hankosha, unsure.

"With your bangers."

Sausages? thought Hankosha. Then it dawned on him. Green saw his face change to guilt.

"Someone ought to do something about you. You are a danger and a menace to sobriety." Green gave Hankosha a shove.

Hankosha rallied. "Sobriety? Hah! You mean society! You're so drunk, *you're* the menace to sobriety." He shoved back.

Green grabbed the fabric on Hankosha's shoulder with one hand. He hauled his right arm back for a punch. Hankosha's eyes went wide and he crossed his arms in front of his face for the countermove.

"Why I oughta.." Green's elbow bumped against something solid.

"Ought to what, soldier?" said Warlord softly.

Green's instinct control room sounded the "Superior Officer" alert. Did Warlord outrank him? He couldn't remember. He went with his instincts.

"Nothing, sir." He let go of Hankosha's shoulder and put his arm around him, forcing a grin. "I was just saying I oughtta buy my buddy here-" his eyes shut in concentration a second- "Hankosa, Hanshoka, a drink." Hankosha was bewildered but knew better than to say anything in front of Warlord.

 

"Can't see anything wrong with that," said Warlord, who knew this play well. "Careful you don't get drunk and embarrass yourself, though, right Green?"

"Right sir. Won't get drunk. Thanks, sir." Green pulled Hankosha through the crowd to the bar. Hiro met him there. "So, Hankosha, is it? Doesn't that mean 'Rebel'?"

 

They didn't notice Pickering keeping an eye on them. Nor did they notice the blue dragon charm that had fallen out in the scuffle and slid across the floor to Poison's feet.

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Ivan burst out in a stream of incomprehenshible Russian while rubbing his eyes, then calmed down and stomped over to Warlord. "I can see why you requested that I serve here," Ivan said to the man. "These soldiers, some of them, they do not deserve to be called soldiers"

 

"Upset over the flashbangs, Major?" Warlord inquired.

 

"Yes! These men, they need discipline! They would not last ten minutes in the mercenary world. I knew a demolition expert once, like the idiot who threw those distraction devices. He had a tendancy set fuses short, as a joke! He injured over twenty other mercenaries working with him during his history as a mercenary due to that infailte practice He died, when he was distracted by a pebble in shoe while setting a bomb, and left this world in a cloud of debris"

 

Ivan started to calm down. "Tell whatever team is training tommorow that they have to be up two hours earlier. I will put some discipline into these men if I have to kill every last one of them. And if any are hungover, then may god have mercy on them, because I won't. Also, send me the name of the one who set off those flashbangs when you find him. That is all, I am going to go prepare tommorow's schedule."

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Hankosha had been drinking with Green for a while when he looked at his watch. He excused himself and headed for the washroom, noticing the security officer following him, he carefully reached for his blue dragon charm. Reaching to touch his chest, he felt nothing. He panicked. If the security officer found it and figured out what it represented and how to use it, he was screwed. He headed back to the party, which was still in full swing. He heaved a heavy sigh. He would have to help the cleaning crew, so that he could find his charm. He hoped that by whatever god or gods existed that no-one had picked it up...
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