The Ghosts

[DeletedUser]

Boss smiled and stood up. "I'm gonna go for now my brothers and sister," he said.

He turned to leave, opened the door, then closed it behind him. He went to his room. He opened the door, closed it, then looked around. His safe zone. He sat on his bed. He laid down on her and looked at the ceiling. He looked at the music station he had next to him. He pushed the play button. Pantera. He closed his eyes and dozed off for a little while.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

She smiled and nodded. She sighed and sat back against the wall. She lifted her pale blue eyes as the lights in her room and the hallway dimmed slightly and then returned to full brightness, and indication lights out was fifteen minutes away. She smiled and looked at the gathered prototypes as she stood up. "Well gentlemen, that's your cue to leave my room I'm afraid."

She ushered the men out and closed her door. She changed into a pair of sweat pants and a brown T-shirt. She climbed into her bed, curled up into an awkward ball and closed her eyes. She sighed as she rested her forearm across her eyes and thought of what she'd seen. Bombs or bullets be damned, she truly wanted out of here.

 

[DeletedUser]

Boss was about to fall asleep when he awoke. He turned off the music and grabbed the phone. He called his handler.

"Hello?" said Gabriella.

"I want Jaunt to come with us on the next mission," Boss said bluntly.

Gabriella laughed. "Have you gone insane? She's invaluable Boss. You know that," she said.

"And you know how I will protect her. Let her come."

"Boss. You know I can't do that."

"Just like you can't fall for a grunt like me?"

"Damnit Boss. You have to bring that up don't you? Look, it's not going to happen. You want me to try, fine. But that's all your going to get. I'm not gonna risk my job for this," she said. She hung up the phone.

Boss chuckled. "I'm gonna get you out of here Jaunt. You, me, Mouse, all of us," he thought.

He opened his drawer and opened his journal. He grabbed a pen and started to write.

This has got to work. I think it might work. I can break us all out. Get the next team of us out of here. And I will. I don't want to live cooped up here any longer.

Boss closed the journal and put it back in the drawer. He laid back on the bed and went to bed. "I will get us out," he mumbled.

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Trace looked at the picture. He couldn't see very much in it, but then again he wasn't used to seeing artwork. "I'm afraid I can't help you much on the first count...I'm not artistic and have not seen much artwork, so I'm a bad indication of it's beauty." He hesitated on the second question for a moment, then continued. "As for the mental hunger...I didn't feel quite like you did, but I felt..." he groped for the right word..."empowered. It was exhilarating actually using my abilities for something worthwhile...I never felt more alive than I did then." Trace's eyes were shining as he remembered...he had never been this animated before...never. He didn't even feel his usual nervousness around Mouse. "It was unlike anything I've ever experienced, and I cannot wait for the chance to do it again..." He halted for a moment, his old, somber self returning to the foreground. Almost tentatively, he said, "And now I have two questions for you...one, what is the "internet"? All I know of it is I am forbidden to contact it...I haven't yet for fear of what it might do to me, but I'm curious all the same...second..." he broke off again. When he continued, it was barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if you know anything more about this than I do, but...do you know what emotions are and what impact they have on life?" He looked embarrassed to be asking that...

 

[DeletedUser26409]

After Jaunt sent them out of her room Micky headed to his. He closed the door. He looked at the room. It was full of stuff: the computer on the desk, an amplifier and speakers connected to it (he didn't want a music station, he wanted to mess around with the amp, a music station was too simplified for his liking), headphones, a stack of car and mechanics magazines. There were lots of books on the shelf: the seven books of the "Harry Potter" series; the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy along with the "Hobbit", "Silmarillion", "The Children of Hurin" and "Unfinished Stories"; the entire "SS Wotan" series by Leo Kessler; the "Winnetou" series; a collection from Stephen King including the "Dark Tower" series to name some. His harness (he preferred the old ALICE harness to the newer MOLLE system), backpack and clothing were on a coathanger which was on a peg in the corner. On another peg was his full set of The Mighty Ducks of Anaheim old hockey gear (from the Disney era), a set of pads and skates. The cupboard held a few pairs of dark blue jeans and a variety of green, brown or gray T-shirts. The drawers of the desk contained all kind of gadgets (some of which broken), a toolbox and a loads of CD's (which weren't labeled so Micky always had a hard time finding the right one if he needed one of them).

He switched on the amplifier, turned the volume up a bit after finding the song he was looking for from the computer (INXS - Devil Inside, Micky was into rock music), undressed down to his boxers, got into the bed and soon fell asleep.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Mouse leaned against her shoulder in the door frame of Trace's room and frowned slightly at his questions. She waved her hand dismissively at the first as she recounted, "The internet is some computer portal as I understand it. It accesses information, much like our computers, but in a different way." She frowned in more confusion and shook her head. "I'm sorry A00-1706, I'm quite unfamiliar with it myself, or at least unfamiliar enough to not be able to explain it better." She flashed a smile as her cheeks flushed curiously red.

"Now emotions", she said thoughtfully, "those are responses to some outside influence. We all have them, or at least have witnessed them. Um, to name a few," she looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully ticking each emotion off on her fingers as she named some that she knew, "anger, happiness, sadness, love, jealousy. I think those are all emotions. Is that right do you think?"

She looked back at Trace as the lights dimmed, and she sighed. "Just so you know, Jaunt is forecasting where we're going next, and who's involved if you care to know such things."

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Trace thought for a moment..."Yes, I believe those are emotions...I just don't quite understand what significance they have in life...what makes a happy person better off than a sad person? That is the concept I have such a hard time grasping..." He trailed off again, thinking about the fact that Jaunt was predicting where they were next going. "To be honest...I'd rather find out as we go...it might ruin some of that exhilarating experience if I know ahead of time..." He thought for a moment again, then said, "Perhaps on the way to the next mission we can discuss emotions further...perhaps we can make a breakthrough...well, for now you should probably get back...they'll be locking the doors soon...good night, B00-1607." the corners of his mouth twitched again, and he felt his cheeks become slightly hotter...both symptoms slightly concerned him, but he decided that since nothing bad seemed to be coming of them, it couldn't be too bad.

 

[DeletedUser13682]

Willy shook his head in annoyance, when, as if prescience was a fact unchangeable, Micky came in, asking about the future. "Ignorant fool! Prescience is nothing more than a guess!" Why was he yelling like this? Prescience was a tool like any other. But, despite this thought, Willy kept yelling. "Prescience is a probability! What moj kalieha sees is nothing more than a guess in a game with a million different possibilities! Will you go on a trip to the sandbox? Maybe! Will the Marine Corp let the Air Force use its mmaterial? No! Stop living in the future! The safe path leads to stagnation, leads to death!" He abrubtly took leave of the room, leaving the food behind, and walked to train. Along the way, he heard Mouse talking to Trace about a something feeling. Willy had a guess as to what it was.

"What you feel is longing for a status quo life, a socially accepted normal existance, without all this cloak and dagger and unofficial existances." By this time, Willy was calm again. "Trace can't give you that, no offense, I can. Meet me in my room in say, about an hour. We'll talk more then." Again, exit Willy. Now, enter Willy, Lt. Col. Wilkinson, and an M79 grenade launcher. "Very good buddy," Joanna said, beamish smile lighing up the firing range. "Times up though, off to bed." Cripes! Willy thought. Must this woman treat him like a son she lost in an F-14 crash? There will be talks later, but after his talk with Mouse. Willy was sitting at hisdesk, writing a letter to nobody, his form of journal entries, I Love the Night playing in the background, waiting for Mouse to arrive.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

B00-1607 was startled by B00-0101 as he appeared at her side to relate his opinion to A00-1706 and herself about their conversation. She blinked at Willy's offer and looked at Trace. She looked back at Willy and said, "I'm sorry B00-0101 but lights out is in fifteen minutes. Perhaps we could discuss your observations at mess in the morning." She nodded to him as he left for his room.

B00-1607 nodded to A00-1706 and lifted her hand in her tiny wave as she headed off for her room. She stepped inside, closed the door and flopped down on her bed. She closed her eyes, and expanded her senses. It was her secret defiance against the strict rules the prototypes were under about the use of abilities without authorization. She was the only prototype who was able to see outside her room, the hallways, the entire expanse of Area 51 and she reveled in the fact that she, and she alone could see the stars at night time. Sure, B99-1903 was precognitive, and B00-0101 was psychometric, but she wasn't sure either were able to see with the same clarity and sense of the now as she could.

She smiled again as she secretly enjoyed the sounds and sights of the night desert. She'd never told any of the prototypes of this indulgence, and definitely would never tell her handler. She had drawn several pictures of the surrounding desert, but they all were truly sanctioned viewings during training sessions. This night thing, was her own, and she kept it within. She fell asleep quickly.

She was jolted awake when her door was unlocked and pulled open. She sat up in bed as one of the night guards, Senior Airman Polanski, appeared silhouetted in the doorway and advised her she was to report to briefing in fifteen minutes. She nodded and clumsily climbed out of bed to get dressed. After dressing, she slowly moved down the hallway, yawning and rubbing her eyes. It was very rare that any of the prototypes were taken out of their sleep cycle, and she found it quite disorienting.

She reported to the briefing room and sat in her chair. She was the first to assemble and she looked blearily at Colonel Wirtz. He smiled at her amusedly and rejoined a hushed conversation between several handlers. Mouse noted the handlers of B01-1109, B99-3011, A00-1706, B00-0101, and A98-0606 were present. She closed her eyes, folded her arms across her chest and waited for the others to arrive.

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Trace watched Mouse go with mild disappointment...he had hoped they might enjoy a longer talk together. Willy's statement about him unable to do something concerned him, since he hadn't the slightest idea what he had meant. Trace quickly undressed and slipped into bed. He wished he had something electronic to fiddle with, but his room had been specifically designed with no electronic equipment, and the only other things he could reach were other prototypes rooms, and he wasn't going to mess with their things without permission...the lab had been designed well indeed...the nearest technological device worth checking out was just outside his range of 1000 feet radius. He eventually fell asleep.

He was shaken awake by a night guard he didn't recognize, telling him to get a move on to the briefing room. Half asleep, he got dressed and stumbled down to the briefing room. He was the second one there, and he sat next to Mouse, almost falling asleep again as soon as he was no longer standing. He wasn't a morning person at the best of times, and these weren't the best of times by any means. He would have wondered what he was called for had he been properly thinking. As it was he could barely keep his eyes open. Mouse seemed better, but not by much.

 

[DeletedUser13682]

"Turn off the music, vampire boy. Meeting in 5." I Love the Night was abrubtly cut off, by none other than Senior Airman Anthony Fromm, probably related to the Fredrich Fromm of the Nazi era. "If you don't start playing nice," Willy said with a calm voice, emotionless almost, "then your wife finds out what you did in the sandbox. Thanks for her address, by the way. The letter's right here." Willy picked up his journal letter, waving it around, treating it like Senator MacCarthy's infamous list of communists. Fromm turned pale, basically bowed to Willy, pleaded with his eyes, and ran away. Five minutes later, Willy was in the conference room, a few handlers, Trace, and Mouse there. "Mouse!" Willy called out. "For future reference, don't call me by my serial number. This isn't an Arbeitslager. My name is Willy, after the Chancellor Willy Brandt, founder of Neue Ostpolotik."

 

[DeletedUser]

Boss was in the room with them. He stood next to Gabriella. He was half naked, with only a pair of boxers, black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martins. That is, if you didn't count his upper body tattoos. Looking at him in this light, he looked very, very pissed. He was slunched over a table, his hands in fists. He looked at everyone in the room.

He was the first one to speak. "Ok, I'm getting a bit impatient here. Why the hell are we here?" he asked. He was very annoyed. This happened the last time. He was called into the room. Everybody else went on the mission. He didn't. He was tired of waiting, he wanted to know.

He cracked his knuckles on the table. His eyes started to turn red. They usually did that when he was getting angry. "Honestly, why the hell am I here?" he asked again. Gabriella put her hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to settle down. He still looked pissed, he wanted answers.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Mouse looked at B00-0101 as he yelled at her about calling him by his serial number. She blinked slowly, yawned and closed her eyes again. She rested a few minutes, possibly even napped, because she only realized A98-060 had joined them when he spoke about being tired of waiting. She yawned, stretched, and raked her fingers through her long hair to pull some of the bed head tangles out of it.

Soon enough, Lt. Colonel Willkinson knocked her hand on the table several times to grab attention as much as wake some of the more of the sleep deprived prototypes. She explained that the assembled prototypes were all being assigned to a mission deemed Project: Slip the Coop. Mouse raised her eyebrows as she wondered who on Earth named these missions. Willkinson further explained she would be acting as CO of the squad.

Willkinson indicated the locale would be in the mountainous region bordering Afghanistan and Pakistan. She would not go into details about the actual mission, explaining it would be made clear upon arrival at an American base in Kabul. She gave the prototypes thirty minutes to gather their gear and equipment necessary for a desert environment, and assemble on the runway for a C-130, which was standing by. Willkinson advised the entire flight would take approximately 18 hours, to be re-fueled en-route.

Willkinson did not give any time for questions as she dismissed the prototypes. Mouse found herself slightly more awake, and somewhat excited. She moved to her room and pulled out BDU's and her gear bag. She was capable of using almost all issued weapons, but she'd never been assigned any, so it was very easy to gather necessary equipment. She moved into the hallway, and brushed her fingers across Jaunt's doorway as she passed. She felt pity for her sister prototype, but did not let it dissuade her from her own enjoyment of being released again from Area 51 so soon.

 

[Deleted User - 819397]

Trace had listened to the new mission information with growing enthusiasm. If he was going, it'd mean there was something with technology he'd be getting into. He was eager to be getting his exhilaration sooner than he thought. He went back to his room, looked around, saw nothing he needed to take, and walked out again. The benefit for having your ability being in your head was less gear. He went to the outfitting area and was quickly given desert camo and other basic gear that he would need on the upcoming mission. He then hurried over to the hangar to discover he was the first one there. After ensuring that he had everything he needed, the handlers sent him off to board the C-130. He picked a window seat, then hacked into the computer systems of the plane to ensure it was all functioning properly. Satisfied, he leaned back in his seat and waited for the rest to arrive, and for takeoff.

 

[DeletedUser]

Boss smirked. "Finally," he said. He walked out of the room and went to his room. He got changed. Desert camo cargo pants. He threw a t-shirt over it, a Slayer t-shirt with a eagle and a pentegram. He then put on a black denim vest with numerous patches over it. He grabbed his belt, which carried bullets, side pockets, a buck knife sheath, and room for a Beretta 9mm in the holster. He flexed his arms and put on a pair of black fingerless gloves. His muscles on his arms flexed. The tattoos moved with it. The flame and Satanic symbols on his left arm, and the dragons, roses, and knives on his right.

He put on a black beanie that said Anthrax on it. He grabbed his dogats, stuffed them under the t-shirt, then looked at himself in the mirror. He smirked. "Gotta look good," he said to himself. He threw on a pair of black socks, then his Doc's. He went over to his gun cabinet. He pulled out his Benelli M4. He looked at it and smiled.

He went to his drawers, and grabbed a picture of himself, Gabriella, and Jaunt standing side by side together. It was in the hallway outside both his and Jaunt's door, but still, a beautiful picture. He opened the door and walked over to Jaunt's door. He knocked on it. "Jaunt, grab your stuff. I'm gonna get you out of here," he whispered.

"Don't worry about the details. But I will get you out of here."

 

[DeletedUser25825]

Mouse dropped her gear bag with the airmen standing outside the C-130 and climbed up the ramp. She chose a seat next to Trace, smiled at him, and then closed her eyes resting her head against the fuselage. There would be time for talking, as this was going to be a long flight, for now the need to sleep was too great to resist. She easily shut out the outside noises, as it was necessary for her to use her ability. She yawned and quickly fell asleep.

_________________________________

Major Morgan Fleming, Jaunt's handler, approached Boss as he stood outside of her door. He smiled at the prototype and said, "I'm sorry A98-0606, B99-1903 is not currently in her room. She has been assigned to a support task for your current mission. The C-130 will be lifting off in ten minutes. You should make your way to the runway." He turned and headed off down the hallway toward a security checkpoint.

 

[DeletedUser]

Boss sighed. He followed. He went to the airstrip. He looked at the plane and smiled. "Time to get out of here," he thought. He walked towards the plane, up the ramp, and sat down in a seat. He threw his bag, carring the majority of his stuff in it, under his seat. It was mostly spare clothes, cleanery stuff, CDs, the computer, pictures, and spare ammo and guns. He was planning to escape. And he would.

Boss put his elbows on his knees, his fist under his chin, and then started to doze off. He quickly fell asleep.

 

[DeletedUser13682]

Glad Mouse didn't care about others preferences. Maybe that invitation was too hastily written. But wait, Joanna in command? His handler? Great! And where was that place they were headed to? Afghanistan! Maybe it was the hunt for Osama bin-Bunny, bin-Ladin. But, why bring him along? Why make his handler the leader? They would be answered in Kabul, after the plane ride in the C-130. Why such a big plane for what was it, 10 people? Maybe a vehicle was coming along. All will be found out soon enough. Now, it was time to gear up. But what to bring? Assume there is no vehicle.

IFFS, desert tiger stripe pattered, with fighting and existance loads. His very own M16A4, with old style foregrip, holo sight, and customized bayonet based on the M1942. M1911A3, also with holo sight. The newfound M79 Thumper, with modified optical sights, for firing from level to nearly 90 degrees. KA-BAR fighting knife, with a little ghost on the bottom of the handle. Everything had been painted with a desert tiger stripe pattern, including the M9 helmet. One last stop before he left though. One quick last note, a will of sorts, leaving everything he had to be divided amongst the surviving prototypes.

5 minutes left to go, and he was the fourth person aboard the aircraft. Trace was wearing basic gear and equipment. Good choice, but bland and unexciting. Mouse was wearing the same basic gear as Trace, but was asleep. How did she do it so easily? Sleep came at sometimes insurmountable struggles, yet she did it easily. And there was Boss, dressed like a PMC employee with a penchant for heavy metal bands. Good luck in the desert all that black stuff on. Willy sighed at Boss. "We are going to the desert, the open desert," Willy explained to Boss. "Not some Urban American city. Besides, you're in the Air Force, not Blackwater/Xia. Wear something that fits that role, or they'll mark you suspicious. Mark us all suspicious."

 

[DeletedUser26409]

Micky quickly woke up as someone opened his door. He got dressed in twenty seconds and headed to the briefing. He was the last one to arrive. They'd be going to Afganistan. Desert. Willy quickly returned to his room to gather his gear.

He threw his clothes onto the desk and put on his desert camo pants. The next was a beige T-shirt. He put on the jacket and rolled up the sleeves before putting on his harness. It contained ammo, a first aid kit (he wouldn't be likely to need it but maybe someone else would), some grenades, an LC-1 entrenching tool (you never know when you might need it), two water canteens, some food and other stuff in the buttpack. He also had an old anglehead flashlight and a KA-BAR knife attached to the suspenders. Lastly he fastened the holster of his pistol on his chest (with a system he had made by himself). He thought for a second and took his Barrett which he put over his shoulder and the SIG 550.

Now, armed to the teeth, Micky went to the plane and sat down. He couldn't fall asleep so he took a book from his buttpack ("The Ghost Division" by Leo Kessler) and started reading.

 

[DeletedUser25825]

After the prototypes had assembled and secured in the flight seats lining the walls of the fuselage, airmen drove the three Escalades into the C-130 and began strapping them down for travel. After the vehicles were secured to the deck, two crates outfitted for airdrop were brought in by a forklift. Mouse slept through it all.

As the flight crew began going through systems checks, two HMMWVs drove up to the ramp. Six men, none of the prototypes had seen before, climbed out and grabbed gear out of the other HMMWV. They all wore BDU's with tiger stripe desert pattern without insignia and MICH helmets. As they muscled their gear bags onto the C-130, they looked at the prototypes with as much confusion in their faces as was returned by the Ghost members. To the prototypes, the team was confusing mostly because after at least seven years, just about all personnel at Area 51 was at least recognized, if not known. To the team, the prototypes were a mishmash of uniform, weapons, and genders. The prototypes hardly personified an elite military unit, and the other men obviously disapproved of being in their presence.

The six men secured their gear and strapped in where Lt. Col. Willkinson informed them to station, which was of course well away from the prototypes. The men looked down at the gathered prototypes for a few minutes before they began discussing things amongst themselves. They appeared to be a well knit group, and to several of the prototypes obviously some manner of SpecOps team.

The propellers of the C-130 belched to life as the cargo ramp was raised. The large transport vehicle slowly taxied out to the runway, the engines roared to full throttle and the C-130 took off for its destination.