The New Haven Incident - Part Fifteen

A knock on the door interrupted the pleasant silence between Oliver Mendez and Sebastian Connors. Both men turned sharply at the unwanted intrusion, both wearing nearly identical frowns. Riley offered them a tilt of the head and a lopsided smile as a greeting. Behind him, the survivors were waking and gathering into small groups to break their fast with cold tinned pastas and soups.

“Yo,” Riley said. “Captain Harding wants you in the comms room.” He paused. “Both of you.”

“Coming,” Mendez said. He rose to his feet, feeling his forty years as his hips uttered a muted complaint. He’d been still for too long. He turned to Sebastian and offered his hand. Sebastian took it, and permitted Mendez to pull him to his feet.

“That knife all you’ve got?” Mendez asked suddenly. Sebastian frowned, wondering where this particular line of questioning was going.

“Yes,” he answered slowly.

Mendez grunted. He reached around himself to a holster at the small of his back which held two pistols. He withdrew one and handed it over to Sebastian. “Here.”

“Uh…” Sebastian hesitated a moment.

“Go on,” Mendez said. “If we run into trouble, you’re going to need something more than that pig-sticker.”

Sebastian took the gun and tucked it into his belt. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Coming?” Riley demanded.

The agent stepped back to let Mendez to go first, following him at his left shoulder.

Mendez caught Lilith’s eye as he exited the room. He offered her a secretive smile and cheeky wink. She laughed softly and returned to ensuring Hannah was alright. Sebastian left Mendez’ side.

“Hey, where…?”

Mendez didn’t finish his question. It became obvious as Sebastian went directly to Hannah and dropped to one knee before her.

Sebastian smiled as Hannah turned to him. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Hannah answered, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Sebastian held out the toy she had given him. “Here. Thanks for lending him. Claudio was very good at his job.”

Hannah’s bright smile lit the room. She reached out and took the toy, pulling it tightly against her chest, pressing her face into the top of its misshapen head. Sebastian smiled, reached out and touseled her dark hair, then rose to his feet. He nodded over at Cheryl and Dr. Lundt, who had been watching the interaction with gentle, maternal smiles.

Lilith reached out and grasped Sebastian’s hand, squeezing it briefly. He returned the squeeze before he could think. Slightly taken aback by his own instinctual reaction, he turned to Lilith. She smiled at him, a slight impish twinkle in her eyes. Sebastian returned the smile and then turned, reluctantly dropping the strange woman’s hand. He went to what had become the communications room, into which Mendez had disappeared moments before.

“Good of you to join us,” Captain Harding said dryly as Sebastian entered.

The agent offered no retort. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and leant his right shoulder against the wall. His expression was impassive, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes when they alighted on the captain. For a moment, the two simply regarded each other in silence. Deciding that a clash of egos was in no one’s interest at present, Harding broke his gaze and addressed the rest of the room, which consisted of the rest of the two Sigma teams, save those who were maintaining the perimeter. Captains Harding and Sakata, the two communications engineers, Carter and Richards. The two warrant officers Mendez and Franz, stood with their backs to the windows, facing the teams. Sebastian elected to remain near the door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

“By now you’re all aware that things are not as they should be. By this time, we ought to have retrieved the two groups of Cedarwood researchers, gathered the permissions from the ranking researcher, and met with Teams One and Four in the laboratories to acquire the data Cedarwood is looking to preserve. We should have been prepared for extraction by the end of today. That’s obviously not going to be happening.

“It gets worse. Our communications appear to be out. I was able to reach mission control briefly yesterday, but the signal is no longer functioning. Team Three’s equipment is also down. We know that it is very unlikely to be an accident. We can’t radio the other teams, or receive transmissions. I’m going to assume that their equipment is similarly affected. We’re all flying blind at present.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. Captain Harding was correct. It was not very likely that an outfit as organised and prepared as Sigma would send their teams in with faulty equipment. That meant the disruption was external. It might be that something had happened during the panic of the first few hours of a rapidly spreading zombie-like plague; someone in a panic might have accidentally done something that may interfere with the infrastructure, but that was highly unlikely. There were satellites the company could tap into. It wasn’t an accident. Something, or someone, was deliberately making it impossible for the Sigma teams to communicate.

“It’s gotta be deliberate,” Carter said. He shook his head. “I’ve tried everything. Nothing’s fucking working.”

Harding and Sakata both nodded.

“Yeah,” Sakata said. “I’m convinced it is, too.”

“Which means,” Harding noted, “that we’re entering a scenario with an active, calculating hostile.”

Mendez shook his head. “Nothing like Cedarwood, then,” he said.

“Exactly. Cedarwood City was unfortunate, but the hostiles there were mindless.”

Sebastian scoffed, drawing everyone’s attention. He declined to elaborate, however, so Harding continued. “Compared to Cedarwood City, New Haven is going to be a challenge. As we cannot contact our teams, we have no real choice but to proceed as planned and hope the others have done the same. However, because we suspect a second, unexpected obstacle, I’m going to ask you to be more vigilant. Take nothing at face value.” Harding turned to Sebastian.

“Agent Connors,” he said. “I’m going to assume you’ve been in pretty hairy situations not unlike this. Any wisdom to share?”

“Not particularly,” Sebastian answered. “I have never had a team, let alone several enter any theatre with me.”

Harding raised an eyebrow.

“What timeline were you given?”

“Three days,” Harding noted.

“This is day three.”

Harding nodded.

Sebastian shook his head. He turned his focus inwards, withdrawing into thought. He looked up. “Richards, where were you when you managed to get a signal.”

“We were with Dr. Lundt and her group.”

“Which was where?”

“The penthouse office of the Gertrude Steiner building.”

“That’s what… thirteen stories?”

“Twelve, I think.”

Sebastian nodded. He turned to Harding. “If this ‘calculating hostile’ is using a signal jammer, it might be that there’s a height restriction on it. If you can find something high, you might be able to get a signal through to your command control, at least, if not the other teams.”

“I mean, that makes sense,” Carter said, “But if there is a jammer, wouldn’t this person have placed it on the tallest building in the city?”

“The city is too big for a single jammer to cover the entire thing. Amplifiers or relays would be needed. It’s too much of an ask for whoever this is to get one at the top of every tall building in the city. Coverage is likely to be lower to the ground in most of the city.”

“A network of relays?” Harding asked, scoffing. “Covering the entire city?”

Sebastian returned his attention to Harding. “Not the suburbs, likely. But downtown? Yes. It’s possible.” He muttered these last words, memory of how Berkley had cut off his communications in the jungle using a similar relay on his mission to take him down. There had been no chance to call for aid once he entered the city-sized hunting grounds the demented master sergeant had created. “It’s been done before.”

Harding stared at Sebastian expectantly. Shaking his head, Sebastian said, “Bolivia. I was sent into… to bring someone in. He turned a considerable area of the rainforest into a dead zone - no communication with mission control was possible.”

Harding’s expression collapsed into a scowl. “Bolivia,” he said slowly. His eyes hardened. “I heard of an operation in Bolivia. Lost good friends; they were sent in and never came out.”

“Sigma was not contracted for that mission.”

“They weren’t Sigma. Old army buddies of mine. Special Forces; kill squads, to be exact. Two squads went in. Not one survivor.”

The depth of Harding’s knowledge of The Department’s business shocked Sebastian. Though his expression did not give it away, the long pause in which he studied the captain did.

“How do you know about that?” Sebastian asked.

Harding simply shrugged.

When Sebastian’s silence dragged on, Harding simply added, “You hear talk.”

Sebastian grunted. “The point is, it can be done. It takes time and organisation, but it can be done.”

“Time and organisation?” Mendez demanded. “Do you mean to tell me that you think this hell was planned?”

“If what your captain is saying is true, that someone is jamming your signal, and that it is a deliberate act, it’s not a far stretch to assume that it was planned.”

“Oh shit.”

“Berkley,” Harding said suddenly. “You were sent after Berkley.”

Silence filled the room as all eyes swivelled to the captain. He stared hard at Sebastian. Sebastian turned his attention to him once again. His face remained impassive. He offered little more than a slight nod.

“Wait, Berkley. As in Special Forces Captain Berkley?” Franz asked. “Big dude. Blond. Overly fond of his knife?”

“Was killed in Bolivia after taking out two entire kill squads,” Harding said. “Yeah. That Berkley.”

“Master Sergeant,” Sebastian said softly.

“What?” Harding demanded.

“He was a Master Sergeant. Before… before he lost his mind.”

Franz stood up and turned to Sebastian, truly observing him for the first time. The man was not tall, five foot ten, perhaps. Sure, he looked fit, but Franz had known Berkley. At 6’ 4”, he was taller even than Harding and Mendez, and broader. There was not a soul alive that could beat that man in a fight, not even Captain Harding, and certainly not this underwear model leaning on the wall.

“There is no way in hell you took Berkley out.”

“Okay,” Sebastian said with a shrug.

Franz scowled. “What?”

Sebastian turned icy eyes onto him. “I said ‘okay’.”

“Listen here —” Grindel said, coming to stand beside Franz.

“Drop it, Paris,” Mendez said quietly. He didn’t doubt Agent Connors. There was something about him, some quiet edge that gave Mendez the distinct impression that the younger man was capable of a great many unpleasant things.

“Oh, come on, Mendez. Look at him! There’s no fucking way that little fairy took out Berkley.”

Mendez straightened. “I said leave it, Lieutenant.”

Grindel stared at his superior, then turned back to Sebastian. “Fucking liar,” he spat before turning and finding a seat again.

Sebastian didn’t answer. He simply watched the man find his seat, his teammates gathering close in an unconsciously protective display. The agent’s expression revealed nothing at all.

“Berkley’s fate isn’t the point of this briefing,” Harding said, drawing everyone’s attention once more. He sighed. “Get the survivors ready. We’re moving out. Sakata and Team Three will escort the majority of the survivors to the extraction point. As per the plan. Team Two, we’re headed to the university. If we find somewhere suitable, we’ll climb to try and get a signal. In Dr. Reinhert’s absence, Dr. Lundt is the ranking researcher. She needs to come with us. Get it done, teams. Dismissed.” The gathered mercenaries roused. “Not you, Agent Connors,” Harding said as Sebastian’s arms dropped and he turned to leave the room.

The agent paused, then nodded to himself. He stood aside as the mercenaries filed past him out of the room. He was not above catching Grindel’s gaze and holding it as the lieutenant shuffled past him. When the room emptied of all but Captains Harding and Sakata and their respective warrant officers, Sebastian approached.

“How’d it happen?” Harding asked quietly. “Berkley.”

Sebastian clamped his mouth shut.

“I knew him, Agent,” Harding said. “How did it happen?”

Mendez wanted to step in and stop whatever this was, but he, too, had met Berkley, back when he served in the Special Forces. He had never served under him, but he had been friends with men who had. The then captain had a reputation for being a humourless hard-ass, but there was no one you’d rather in the trenches when shit went down. Mendez believed that summation. He always got the feeling that Berkley disapproved of him the few times they met. None of Mendez’ best jokes ever seemed able to crack that thin mouth into a smile. Mendez was also burning with curiosity.

“With his own knife,” Sebastian answered. “Buried hilt deep between the fourth and fifth rib.” There was no waver in the agent’s voice, and he did not once break from Harding’s flat glare. But Mendez heard it all the same — the pain that danced in the emotionless tones of Sebastian’s words.

“Did you know him?” Mendez asked softly. “Personally?”

Sebastian turned to the warrant officer. “He was my close combat instructor at…” Sebastian paused, rethinking his words. “He trained me,” he said finally. “I’m the fighter I am now because of him.”

“A good man,” Harding said. “Easy with the jokes.”

Sebastian turned back to him and scoffed. It was such a transparent test of his honesty. “Berkley was an asshole,” he said. “We all hated him.” Shaking his head, Sebastian turned to gaze out the window. “But he deserved better than he got,” he said finally, his voice soft and tight. He shook his head and returned his attention to Captain Harding. “Is that all?” Whatever window into his psyche Sebastian had cracked open slammed shut. The agent’s expression was once again guarded and impassive, his pale eyes hard.

“Dismissed,” Harding said. The effort Agent Connors clearly put into not rolling his eyes before he left the room drew a small, brief smile from Mendez. For a moment, the remaining members of the two Sigma teams stood in silence.

“Easy with the jokes?” Mendez asked finally.

Harding shrugged. “I needed to know if he was lying or not.”

“And?”

“And Berkley was an asshole.”

Sakata shook his head. “Do you believe him?”

“I don’t know yet,” Harding answered. “But if that pipsqueak killed Berkley, he’s not someone to fuck with.”

Mendez snorted. “Were you planning on fucking with him, Sir?”

Harding couldn’t help himself. He grinned over at his friend. “See if you can’t convince Lundt to leave her wife again, will you?”

Offering a sarcastic, two-fingered salute, Mendez left the room.

Sakata dismissed the two communications engineers and turned to his fellow captain. “Were you?”

Harding grunted. “We don’t know whose side this kid is on,” he answered. “We might need to take him on.”

“Whose side? Harding, he’s just as stuck in this hell as we are.”

“A deliberately orchestrated hell,” Harding reminded the warrant officer.

“You think he’s working with whoever did this?”

Shrugging, Harding said, “He’s been through a lot, if his file is to be believed. Staring death in the face does things to a man. Who knows where his head is at?”

“His file. How the fuck do you have his file?”

“I had Nest send it over in the brief time we were able to make contact.”

“Can I see?”

Harding withdrew his small table from one of his various pockets. He pulled up the file and handed the device to Sakata. The captain of Team Three scanned it.

“Seven missions in eleven years,” he breathed.

“Mm,” Harding agreed.

“Holy shit. That’s… that’s barbaric!”

“Yeah,” Harding replied. “So maybe he’s out for revenge.”

“Wasn’t he in hospital when this all went down? Thought I heard something to that effect.”

“So he claims. But here’s the question; how did he survive the initial infection phase? How was it that he’s the only one to have walked out of that hospital?”

Sakata scowled. These were uncomfortable questions. He turned his attention to the survivors as they gathered together. “I don’t know, man,” he said at length. “He’s not very personable, but that doesn’t make him evil.”

“Evil people never think they’re evil, Rin.”

“We’ve no reason to suspect him.”

“No,” Harding agreed. “And it might be that I’m worried for nothing. Just… just be vigilant is all I’m asking.”

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