The phone rang again. I excused myself to Francine and the Major and found a small private room.
"So nice of you to decide to answer the phone," Flood's obnoxious voice filled the room. "Enjoying the weather?" I took a quick glance out the window, and noted the last portions of "sky" around the noon-area were fading from red to the normal, Unlimit-stained skies of old. Grey, with a tint of green, and already raining. I watched a drop fly down the window, until I was made aware that Flood was still talking.
"Zion and Seraph rescued Sati," he was saying, "The General has lost his surface base to the Machines, and has fled with his tail between his legs into the Matrix. He's doing his best to get himself deleted, really, and that would be a bit of a waste." I witheld myself from reminding him that the General was concetrating Machine eyes on the Merovingian. "He's doing an even worse job of answering his phone than you are, so I need you to go tap him on the shoulder for us," he finished before snapping the connection shut. What, no goodbye? I wondered.
My new Operator (I'm not at liberty to discuss what happened to the one that sold off all my personal possessions) signaled me when I entered the building. "I'm reading a bunch of Exile programs in there," she piped up. "Should be the General and his commandos."
The General eyed me with a tired eye as I entered the room. The Operator later wrote in her journal about his description: "This man's face shows the scars of many hard battles." Some of his Commandos were happy to see me, but overall the situation was dire.
"Hey, gunboy, how's the wars doing," I enquired of a passing Commando.
"It's a tough situation, sir," he whispered back. "We've got to keep an eye out for the Machines." He excused himself to resume his patrol.
"I'm glad you arrived, solder," the General spoke gravely. "The Machines are in pursuit. I need to split up my men. I want you to take these two -" he motioned to a pair of captains - "and get them somewhere out of the way until we work out a rendevous point."
"Sure thing, sir," I answered, ignoring whatever snide quip Flood made in my earpiece. I turned to the two commandos and barked "Alright, folks, let's hussle!"
"Roger that. Ready to move out, sir!" They replied.
Once we were outside, Flood gave me orders over my earpiece. I concetrated on not stumbling my strides as he spoke so not to raise suspicions to the commandos.
"Now," he commanded, "take those two somewhere and dispose of them, would you? It isn't as if we can hide all of those commandos of his with the Machines tracking them this closely.
"I don't care how you do it, so long as you make it look accidental. Oh, look, I've found you some convenient Machine programs who I'm sure would happily assist."
I acknowledged, and wave the commandos forward.
The bullet ripped into the doorframe as I stepped in. I ducked and rolled behind a cubicle and shouted at the commandos for covering fire. All things considered, they handled themselves well.
I stood among the bodies and stared. These commandos were pretty good. I was about to report to Flood when one of the commandos keeled over. I turned to look. An Agent had entered the room. Slowly, he tracked his gun over to me. Suddenly, a blur of motion occupied the space where he stood, and the Agent and Commando were locked in battle.
The commando fell heavily. Before the Agent could pick himself up, however, he found the cold steel of my own pistol against his temple. One dead bluepill later, Flood called me on my phone. "Finally," he breezed. I wanted to shove my pistol through my phone and out his just to shoot out his mimosa. "Oh, it seems you're attracting more Machine attention. You'd better remove them. We can't have them tracking you all over town, now, can we?"
Just as he finished, I dropped the phone, spun around, arm outstretched with pistol firing, and dropped to one knee. Bullets ripped through the air where my head and chest once filled, while my own found their way through the face plate of the SWAT man who had tried to sneak up on me. Taking a quick glance around the room filled with gun exhaust, I quickly pillaged the commandos of whatever $information disks they held (quite a bit), and made my exit.
I ran down the street quickly, Flood's voice ringing in my ears. "The Machines are closing in on the General. Catch up with him and explain that the Merovingian wishes to speak with him about salvaging his remaining forces." I found the building I was supposed to meet the General at -- with a few dead bluepills outside the door, and gunfire exploding from inside. I made no delay and ran inside.
"Looks like we've got both commandos and Machines in there, and I'm betting they aren't just playing bridge together," my Operator remarked. Oh, goody, I thought, toasters to fry.
I burst through a door and sprayed the room with my sub-machine gun. Immediately a trio of SWAT forces fell to the ground. A pair of higher ranking Machines turned their rifles on me, only to be gunned down from behind by a couple of Elite Commandos running into the room from the other door. With this section of the fight mopped up, I walked further into the offices, arms fire still sounding on another floor.
"We're not out of the woods yet, sir. I don't know if we can hold this position much longer!" A commando on the last lines whispered to me as I entered the last room containing the General.
"Sir," I reported to the General, "the Merovingian requests a meeting with you about the... er... status of your... ah, operations."
"The Merovingian?" The General rubbed his chin, then nodded. "Good. We need to discuss tactics. I'll proceed at once."
"Okay," my Operator said. "I'll send him the coordinates. You just worry about getting there." I nodded slowly, tuning my ears in to the slowly approaching sounds of gunfire. Things were looking grim. I leaned against the window lining the wall, and made a brash decision.
Picking a piece of glass out of my hair, I signaled up Flood. "Since you've become such barricks buddies with the General," he taunted, "I'm putting you in charge of making sure that he arrives safely, and beahves himself."
My Operator pointed out to me, "Just don't let them put a uniform on you. Life expectancy for one of the General's troops has been taking a nosedive lately.
"That's the spot. Bunch of Exile programs on the scope," she finished.
I walked slowly along the hallway, stepping over the bodies of wounded and dying commandos. One of them had their own room, and was being looked over by a nurse. "Just a flesh wound.... I'll manage, sir," he gasped. The nurse looked at me and subtly shook her head. Another good soldier, downed by a hopeless cause. I pardoned myself and resumed looking for the General.
A Blood Noble guarded the door that held the meeting. From the other end, I heard the Merovingian speaking. "I'm glad to see that we are in agreement, monsieur. You will be taken toa completely secure, remote location near the surface. This is the sole means by which I can ensure your safety during this crisis. A temporary measure only, of course."
"Hey," I said to the Noble, "I'm here for the meeting." He nodded me in, with an opinion he apparently had to share: "The General is an incompetent menace. The Oracle's time draws near..." I silently thanked Malphas for putting the weirder troops on guard detail and went on in.
The General was speaking as I entered. "It's a risky move...but I can't argue with the logic. Machine defenses in the Matrix are too strong right now. They won't be expecting me to return to the Real this quickly."
"Arrangements will have to be made for transportation," he added.
The Twins piped up then. "Not sure why anyone would want to go there. Sounds dreadfully boring, really. "Too bad the old card won't be sticking around."
I walked up to the Merovingian and, bowing my head, revealed my concerns. He refuted me, saying with a chuckle, "We must do everything we can to preserve our valuable ally, n'est-ce pas?"
Seeing as how I didn't have much else to do, I excused myself from the building and called in to report to Flood.
"All we have to do now is work out the technicalities of moving him and his programs between the Matrix and your world, and he'll finally be out of my hair. Some programs simply don't belong in here, operative. I don't expect you to understand such things, of course."
"Hey, buggerbutt," I retorted, "You weren't exactly Stream-born yourself."
"Why, even technically speaking," he called me down, "you don't belong here either, and believe me," with this I heard a sip over the crackle of the crappy phone service..
"It shows."
"So nice of you to decide to answer the phone," Flood's obnoxious voice filled the room. "Enjoying the weather?" I took a quick glance out the window, and noted the last portions of "sky" around the noon-area were fading from red to the normal, Unlimit-stained skies of old. Grey, with a tint of green, and already raining. I watched a drop fly down the window, until I was made aware that Flood was still talking.
"Zion and Seraph rescued Sati," he was saying, "The General has lost his surface base to the Machines, and has fled with his tail between his legs into the Matrix. He's doing his best to get himself deleted, really, and that would be a bit of a waste." I witheld myself from reminding him that the General was concetrating Machine eyes on the Merovingian. "He's doing an even worse job of answering his phone than you are, so I need you to go tap him on the shoulder for us," he finished before snapping the connection shut. What, no goodbye? I wondered.
My new Operator (I'm not at liberty to discuss what happened to the one that sold off all my personal possessions) signaled me when I entered the building. "I'm reading a bunch of Exile programs in there," she piped up. "Should be the General and his commandos."
The General eyed me with a tired eye as I entered the room. The Operator later wrote in her journal about his description: "This man's face shows the scars of many hard battles." Some of his Commandos were happy to see me, but overall the situation was dire.
"Hey, gunboy, how's the wars doing," I enquired of a passing Commando.
"It's a tough situation, sir," he whispered back. "We've got to keep an eye out for the Machines." He excused himself to resume his patrol.
"I'm glad you arrived, solder," the General spoke gravely. "The Machines are in pursuit. I need to split up my men. I want you to take these two -" he motioned to a pair of captains - "and get them somewhere out of the way until we work out a rendevous point."
"Sure thing, sir," I answered, ignoring whatever snide quip Flood made in my earpiece. I turned to the two commandos and barked "Alright, folks, let's hussle!"
"Roger that. Ready to move out, sir!" They replied.
Once we were outside, Flood gave me orders over my earpiece. I concetrated on not stumbling my strides as he spoke so not to raise suspicions to the commandos.
"Now," he commanded, "take those two somewhere and dispose of them, would you? It isn't as if we can hide all of those commandos of his with the Machines tracking them this closely.
"I don't care how you do it, so long as you make it look accidental. Oh, look, I've found you some convenient Machine programs who I'm sure would happily assist."
I acknowledged, and wave the commandos forward.
The bullet ripped into the doorframe as I stepped in. I ducked and rolled behind a cubicle and shouted at the commandos for covering fire. All things considered, they handled themselves well.
I stood among the bodies and stared. These commandos were pretty good. I was about to report to Flood when one of the commandos keeled over. I turned to look. An Agent had entered the room. Slowly, he tracked his gun over to me. Suddenly, a blur of motion occupied the space where he stood, and the Agent and Commando were locked in battle.
The commando fell heavily. Before the Agent could pick himself up, however, he found the cold steel of my own pistol against his temple. One dead bluepill later, Flood called me on my phone. "Finally," he breezed. I wanted to shove my pistol through my phone and out his just to shoot out his mimosa. "Oh, it seems you're attracting more Machine attention. You'd better remove them. We can't have them tracking you all over town, now, can we?"
Just as he finished, I dropped the phone, spun around, arm outstretched with pistol firing, and dropped to one knee. Bullets ripped through the air where my head and chest once filled, while my own found their way through the face plate of the SWAT man who had tried to sneak up on me. Taking a quick glance around the room filled with gun exhaust, I quickly pillaged the commandos of whatever $information disks they held (quite a bit), and made my exit.
I ran down the street quickly, Flood's voice ringing in my ears. "The Machines are closing in on the General. Catch up with him and explain that the Merovingian wishes to speak with him about salvaging his remaining forces." I found the building I was supposed to meet the General at -- with a few dead bluepills outside the door, and gunfire exploding from inside. I made no delay and ran inside.
"Looks like we've got both commandos and Machines in there, and I'm betting they aren't just playing bridge together," my Operator remarked. Oh, goody, I thought, toasters to fry.
I burst through a door and sprayed the room with my sub-machine gun. Immediately a trio of SWAT forces fell to the ground. A pair of higher ranking Machines turned their rifles on me, only to be gunned down from behind by a couple of Elite Commandos running into the room from the other door. With this section of the fight mopped up, I walked further into the offices, arms fire still sounding on another floor.
"We're not out of the woods yet, sir. I don't know if we can hold this position much longer!" A commando on the last lines whispered to me as I entered the last room containing the General.
"Sir," I reported to the General, "the Merovingian requests a meeting with you about the... er... status of your... ah, operations."
"The Merovingian?" The General rubbed his chin, then nodded. "Good. We need to discuss tactics. I'll proceed at once."
"Okay," my Operator said. "I'll send him the coordinates. You just worry about getting there." I nodded slowly, tuning my ears in to the slowly approaching sounds of gunfire. Things were looking grim. I leaned against the window lining the wall, and made a brash decision.
Picking a piece of glass out of my hair, I signaled up Flood. "Since you've become such barricks buddies with the General," he taunted, "I'm putting you in charge of making sure that he arrives safely, and beahves himself."
My Operator pointed out to me, "Just don't let them put a uniform on you. Life expectancy for one of the General's troops has been taking a nosedive lately.
"That's the spot. Bunch of Exile programs on the scope," she finished.
I walked slowly along the hallway, stepping over the bodies of wounded and dying commandos. One of them had their own room, and was being looked over by a nurse. "Just a flesh wound.... I'll manage, sir," he gasped. The nurse looked at me and subtly shook her head. Another good soldier, downed by a hopeless cause. I pardoned myself and resumed looking for the General.
A Blood Noble guarded the door that held the meeting. From the other end, I heard the Merovingian speaking. "I'm glad to see that we are in agreement, monsieur. You will be taken toa completely secure, remote location near the surface. This is the sole means by which I can ensure your safety during this crisis. A temporary measure only, of course."
"Hey," I said to the Noble, "I'm here for the meeting." He nodded me in, with an opinion he apparently had to share: "The General is an incompetent menace. The Oracle's time draws near..." I silently thanked Malphas for putting the weirder troops on guard detail and went on in.
The General was speaking as I entered. "It's a risky move...but I can't argue with the logic. Machine defenses in the Matrix are too strong right now. They won't be expecting me to return to the Real this quickly."
"Arrangements will have to be made for transportation," he added.
The Twins piped up then. "Not sure why anyone would want to go there. Sounds dreadfully boring, really. "Too bad the old card won't be sticking around."
I walked up to the Merovingian and, bowing my head, revealed my concerns. He refuted me, saying with a chuckle, "We must do everything we can to preserve our valuable ally, n'est-ce pas?"
Seeing as how I didn't have much else to do, I excused myself from the building and called in to report to Flood.
"All we have to do now is work out the technicalities of moving him and his programs between the Matrix and your world, and he'll finally be out of my hair. Some programs simply don't belong in here, operative. I don't expect you to understand such things, of course."
"Hey, buggerbutt," I retorted, "You weren't exactly Stream-born yourself."
"Why, even technically speaking," he called me down, "you don't belong here either, and believe me," with this I heard a sip over the crackle of the crappy phone service..
"It shows."
