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The AdvAnTAGE Project

By

Mantrid Brizon

Episode 07: Objector

“How soon will the next batch be done, sir?" Mr. Nazarov asks.

“A few more months. It seems that they're ready for birthing by eight months, marginally faster than humans." The Old Man replies.

“That's still a long time to wait. If nothing else, hopefully Operation Artemis will be able to hasten the process." General Davis remarks.

“Eager to use them for war?" The Old Man smirks.

“Well, we might as well see their combat capabilities, sir."

“Don't forget what this is all about..." The Old Man sternly begins.

“I'm not, sir, but-"

“We're advancing our planet as a whole. If these creatures prove to be superior to us, you won't be the one giving orders..."

General Davis falls silent. He glances toward the others at the table. For as fervent as The Old Man is about elevating the AdvAnimals, he is the only one who wants them to become the apex of life on earth. Unfortunately for them, he is also the most powerful man in this hemisphere, if not the entire world; the General and the other members of Sovereign Six can only sit and obey.

“Understood, sir..." General Davis murmurs.

“I'm sure the end results of Operation Artemis will be interesting, regardless." The Old Man finishes, sitting back in his chair.

“And what of the leak at MiLab, sir? What're we going to do about that?" Mr. Spender asks.

“I'll take care of that when our Agent at the White Base calls." The Old Man casually replies.

“You rely on him quite a bit, sir." Director Bloodworth remarks.

“Of course! He's quickly proving himself to be one of our best men!" The Old Man chirps.

The phone atop their grand table rings and a light corresponding to White Base's line flashes brightly in the dim room.

“Ah! Speak of the devil!"

With a wave of his fingers, Director Bloodworth passes The Old Man the phone. He picks up the receiver and presses a button, activating the speaker so that the entire room can participate in the call.

“Hello, Agent. I take it you have good news for us?" The Old Man chirps.

“Of course, sir. Well... More or less..."

“That doesn't sound like good news..." Director Bloodworth murmurs.

“What's the problem, Agent?" Mr. Spender asks.

“It's donor #0001. He's... Alive, but he's not doing well. Other than that, I do have news of the subject of Operation Artemis. I'm faxing the data to you now."

The machine in the corner comes to life, the lights flashing and the gears whirring as the fax machine spits out sheet after sheet.

“Sum it up for us, Agent." The Old Man chirps.

“Using the newer methods and the samples taken from Donor #0001, Operation Artemis is increasing the growth rate of the AdvAnimals, but..."

“Yes?"

“These new AdvAnimals being grown under Dr. Keller's supervision are... Not at all like the original creatures." The Agent hesitantly replies.

“Primitive?" The often-silent Mr. Nazarov asks.

“Primitive is a word... I would have chosen 'monstrous'."

“Interesting!" General Davis chirps.

“You should have some of the photographs by now." The Agent continues.

“Oh, my!"

The Old Man's eyes widen in shock. This isn't exactly what he had in mind. As he passes the photographs around the table, General Davis and Mr. Nazarov look quite intrigued.

“Continue with the Operation. Dr. Keller is proving to be resourceful. As for Donor #0001, collect a few more samples and then let it be. We don't want to kill it before we're finished. In fact, what we need are more donors for this Operation..." The Old Man begins.

“Understood, sir. I can arrange a collection team right away." The Agent replies.

“No, no! Your work is done, Agent. We have need of your services; you're being reassigned."

“Yes, sir. May I ask to where?"

“We need you back to MiLab. There's a situation that requires your skills." The Old Man instructs.

“What kind of situation, sir?"

“We'll appraise you when you arrive, Agent."

“Of course, sir. I'll be there ASAP."

“Good day, Agent Sharpe."

“Good day, sir."

A click from Agent Sharpe's line ends the call. The Old Man slides the phone back toward Director Bloodworth, who returns it to its rightful place. Clasping his hands together, The Old Man slumps back in his chair, looking as confident as he is comfortable.

“See? Problem solved."

“Is it?" Mr. Spender murmurs.

“Well... It will be." The Old Man flashes a sinister grin. “I don't only rely on my best Agents. There are more expedient methods to attain our goals."

With the smuggest of grins on her face, Suzy stands before the desk of her boss, Dave, watching with eager anticipation. What will his reaction to her evidence be?!

“Huh... And you really think these are for real?!" Dave asks with an amused chuckle.

“Well... Yeah! They sure look real, don't they?!" Suzy replies.

“It's hard to say. I've seen some really good fakes in my day." He says, examining the photographs with a magnifying glass. “I suggest we get these tested for authenticity before we do anything else... Did you make copies?"

“Of course!"

“Oh... Well, that's good! Smart girl." Dave flashes a little smile. “I'll have these tested. Hold on to your copies until I get back to you. We don't want to embarrass ourselves or the network by throwing around bunk evidence."

“Understood!"

“Until then, you have other stories to attend to."

With a wave of his hand, the middle-aged man sends the young reporter away. He stares at the door for a moment, then glances down at the photograph of the fox-child lying atop the table. He closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh, resting his head against an upturned palm.

“God damn it..."

His eyes shift, glancing toward his telephone near an outer corner of his desk. Once again removing the card from his pocket, he lifts the receiver and presses the secret combination of buttons. The phone rings only once before someone answers him.

“Hey, it's Dave Wengren again... Yeah, I have an update. There's documents and pictures... No, I don't. My reporter already made copies... ... Okay... Are you sure about-? No, I'm not, I just-... I don't know... I don't know if I can do that! ... ... Alright... Yes, I understand."

Slowly hanging up the receiver, he rotates his chair and pushes himself to his feet. With photographs and documents in-hand, he approaches a paper shredder in the corner of his office and begins feeding the hungry machine with Suzy's evidence. With the task completed, he returns to his desk and waits. The time passes slowly, as if it were taunting him. The ticking of his wall-mounted clock begins to sound akin to nails on a chalkboard. As the evening wears on, the employees at the office begin to depart.

At night there's only a skeleton crew and none of them are located in his wing of the complex; it's only used by the daytime reporters and writers. As more and more people clear out, Dave walks the halls, watching to see if Suzy is among them. As luck would have it, she's staying late. She always was a hard worker. So ambitious and thorough. That, unfortunately, is her undoing. Seeing the door to Suzy's little office ajar, Dave knocks on the doorframe.

“Come on in!"

“Hey, Suzy. I didn't think you'd still be here." Dave chirps as he pokes his head inside.

“I'm preparing my report." She says, typing away at her Apple II.

“Still? That story about the processing plant didn't seem that interesting." He says, stepping inside.

“Oh, no!" She giggles. “I finished that one a long time ago! This is just in preparation for that new story."

“I see..."

She moves the mouse and clicks a button.

“There... I can finish the rest tomorrow. Once those photographs are verified, we'll have the biggest story in Michigan. No! The whole world!"

Suzy shuts down the computer and climbs out of her chair. She grabs her purse and slings it over a shoulder, then collects her jacket.

“What are you still doing here, anyway?" She asks, walking around her desk and approaching her boss.

“Oh, just checking in on you."

“Aren't you sweet." She chuckles.

“You're a rising star. I need to make sure you have what you need." He flashes a little smile.

“I think so."

“Good, good... So... Those copies you made."

“What about them?"

“Did you store them in a safe place?"

“Of course!"

“And you're certain about that? They're hidden where no one could easily find them but you?" He persists.

“Why are you so curious?" She raises a brow.

“Er... I'm just saying! If it is real, then that's valuable information. We wouldn't want them being discovered before you can break the story."

“They're safe, Dave!"

“Safe where?"

“Well, if I told you that then I'd have to kill you, wouldn't I?" She laughs.

“True..."

“So, did you send those photos over to the photography department to have them verified?"

“Oh, yeah! I hand-delivered them to Kevin."

“Great!" She chirps, flashing a toothy grin. “Hopefully, by tomorrow they'll-"

Suzy is interrupted by her desk phone ringing. She holds up a finger to Dave, turns her back on him and leans over the front of her desk to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?"

“Hey, Suzy. It's Greg. Kevin and I were wondering if you wanted to get drinks tomorrow, after work, of course! We can celebrate this big scoop of yours. That's as good an excuse as any."

“Oh, hi, Greg!" She chirps. “Sure! I'd love too!"

“That's great! When you break whatever this story is, remember who your friends are."

“I will! ... Wait, you don't already know?!"

“Know what?" Greg asks.

“The story! Didn't Kevin show you the photos?"

“What photos?"

“The photos Dave sent over to you and Kevin. He wanted them verified as authentic." She replies, her brow furled with confusion.

“I never saw Dave today, and I never left the office. Neither did Kevin. He and I were busy with the sports section." He replies.

“Huh?! But that..."

“Maybe he forgot?" Greg suggests.

The realization hits her like a sledgehammer. Her eyes grow wide as she tries to turn around, but Dave moves fast. He slams a hand down onto the phone, pressing button on the receiver port and ending the call. As he does this, he wraps his other arm around her neck, yanking hard. She tries to scream and struggles, desperate to breathe. He pulls his hand away from the phone and grabs onto his wrist, pulling his arm even tighter across her throat. As she feels herself growing weak, she elbows him in the ribs.

“Ah! Fuck!" He growls as he stumbles backward.

Suzy breaks free, shrieking rather feebly as she turns and tries to run for the door. In an instant, she's knocked to the ground as Dave tackles her. They wrestle on the floor as her boss does everything he can to overpower her. He grabs the nearest cord, which belongs to the telephone on her desk. Giving it a yank, he rips the cord from the wall socket and the phone tumbles to the floor. Swiftly wrapping the cord around her neck, Dave pulls tight, strangling Suzy. She kicks her legs and tries to wriggle free, but as her face turns beet red and her eyes become bloodshot, her vision goes dark. Suzy's body falls limp after barely ten seconds.

“Damn... That was fast." He remarks to himself.

After hastily tidying her office, which takes him less than one minute, he rolls Suzy onto her back and wraps his arms around her body, his limbs tucked beneath her armpits. He drags her down the hall, struggling with the woman, though she isn't very large. Suzy was always quite petite. Perhaps moving bodies is a skill that comes with practice?

“Why couldn't you leave well enough alone, huh? They need this to stay a secret, and I need them to keep quiet about me." He grumbles.

In the dead of night, Dave manages to drag Suzy all the way out to her car, but just as he tries rolling her into the trunk, she groans. She's not dead!

“Damn it!" He growls, wrapping his hands around her throat. “I'm sorry, Suzy, but it's you or me!"

Dave squeezes as tightly as he can, shaking his arms back and forth as if that will help it along. He throttles the life from his coworker, who dies a slow and agonizing death, staring into the face of her killer. She reaches up a hand to smack him, but the strike is so soft it is almost a caress. He begins to weep, gritting his teeth and averting his eyes.

“Just go! Please!" He cries.

Once again, Suzy falls limp. He holds onto her throat for a period of time, hoping to properly finish the job, but his hands begin to shake as his muscles cramp. Letting go of her throat, he stumbles back, his breath shaking as he looks upon the corpse of a woman he had known for years.

“I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." He sniffles. “But I had no choice. They blackmailed me. No one can know."

Taking the keys from Suzy's purse, Dave climbs into the driver's seat and starts the car. He drives Suzy's little Miata to the nearest dock, several miles away from their office. Parking the car on the launch ramp near the boat dock, he opens the trunk, drags Suzy toward the driver's seat and places her carefully in the car. With her purse tossed onto the passenger seat and her seatbelt fastened, he turns off the lights and pushes down the parking brake lever. He jumps out and closes the door just in time for the car to pick up speed.

Splash! It slowly rolls deeper and deeper, making its way to the middle of the lake. He lifts a hand and wipes the tears away, feeling the pain in his thumbs from the intense strain of strangling her. Unable to call a cab and risk leaving a witness to identify him, Dave is forced to jog for nearly two hours to return to his own car.

“I hope they appreciate what I've done for them." He murmurs as he climbs inside of his car.

Walking through the familiar halls, which he hasn't seen in months, Agent Sharpe cannot help but smile. It's a struggle to maintain his cold and eerie character, a struggle that he loses as soon as he stands before the Director's office door. Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in!" Director Chen calls out.

“Hello, Amy." Agent Sharpe speaks in a warm tone as he steps inside.

“Daniel! It's good to see you!" She jumps up from her chair. “Why didn't you call me and let me know you were coming?!" She asks as she darts around her desk.

“I wanted it to be a surprise." He says, stumbling somewhat as she gives him a fierce hug.

“Well, mission accomplished."

Making his way toward the lab, Dr. Chavez can hear Director Chen speaking quite warmly. A familiar voice responds. Walking by the opened door, Dr. Chavez glances toward the opening to see the dainty woman embracing none other than Agent Sharpe. For as frightening as the suit-wearing men are, it's oddly comforting to have Agent Sharpe return.

“So, you're here on some mission?" The disappointed Amy replies.

“I'm always on a mission of some sort. That's all I do."

“Then you won't be staying..."

“I don't know, Amy." Agent Sharpe laments.

“Well, at least I have you right now."

“That you do." He flashes a little smile.

“I don't suppose you'd have time to come over tonight, for dinner and dessert?" She winks.

“I always have time for you."

“Aww! Don't let your bosses hear that." She giggles.

“Alright, Amy. I'll see you tonight." He says before leaning in and giving her a tender kiss.

Leaving her office, Agent Sharpe makes his way to Agent Grey's office, which was once his own. He knocks in a familiar pattern, immediately alerting his former associate of his presence. Upon entering, he presents Agent Grey with documentation he was faxed by The Old Man, placing Agent Sharpe back in charge of MiLab. Agent Grey is more than happy to relinquish his command, and promptly excuses himself for a stress-free patrol of the complex. Taking a seat in the still-warm chair, Agent Sharpe sighs and picks up the phone. He dials the number, one of the few he ever uses, and waits for his overlords to answer.

“Hello?"

“Hello, sir. Agent Sharpe speaking. I've reclaimed command of MiLab."

“Good, good! Then you're ready to begin?" The Old Man asks.

“Yes, sir. Do you have any leads?"

“We've had our intelligence team working around the clock to find the source of the leak. We think we know who's responsible... Plug the leak."

“Yes, sir. Who is the target?"

Agent Sharpe's hand clenches the phone as he listens, his heart sinking deeper into his chest. The plastic receiver begins to creak as he squeezes tighter.

“Agent?"

“I-I'm... Ahem! I'm still here."

“Is there a problem?"

“... Are you positive? I mean, are you absolutely sure about that?!" Agent Sharpe asks.

“You know how the intelligence team is; they never guarantee anything, but after careful and painstaking work, they've given me a 95% assurance... Is that a problem? ... Hello? Agent Sharpe?"

“I heard you."

“Can you take care of the leak?"

“I heard you..." Agent Sharpe repeats before abruptly hanging up the phone.

Many hours later, long after the day shift had gone home for the night, Agent Sharpe lies in bed. He looks to his right, watching the woman whom he lies beside. Amy is so peaceful, so beautiful. They'd left together, taking the Director's Mercedes back to her upscale home. After cooking her guest a fine dinner, a task that he willingly assisted her with, the pair enjoyed their meal almost as much as each other's company. After dessert, which Amy cooked special for him, they found the time to have another dessert in her bedroom. It was a rough yet passionate dessert, as it often was when they were previously together.

Agent Sharpe watches her, pondering their time together. She's the first person who made him feel so alive, or at least the first that he can recall since his training. First the Special Forces and then the NSA, and all he's felt since that time was nothing; he's empty, void of all that made him human. Rolling onto his side, he reaches out a hand and brushes a strand of sweat drenched hair from her pristine face. He dares not cross The Old Man... Or does he? Amy is the first person to give him true warmth in years, but Sovereign Six and The Old Man have given him a grand purpose, a place in a world that even Amy couldn't possibly imagine.

Still, do her crimes warrant such punishment? Whatever happened to forgiveness? As he wrestles with the dichotomy within his heart, he sits up in bed and rests his head in his hands. The abrupt shift stirs the sleeping Amy, who opens her eyes and rolls over.

“Baby?" She calls out in the sweetest of voices.

“Yeah?" He quickly lifts his head and looks to her.

“Are you alright?" She asks as she rolls over.

“Yeah, I was just about to get a drink." He swiftly lies.

“Oh, could you bring up the champagne?" She asks.

“Sure..."

Walking downstairs and into the kitchen, Agent Sharpe collects the bottle. He pops open the cork and pours two glasses, staring at them for some time. He glances over to his suit jacket and with a heavy heart he reaches into a pocket, retrieving a small, silver colored carry-case. Opening the case reveals a set of green gel capsules. Collecting one, he drops into the left glass, then holds the right glass and the opened bottle in the same hand. The gel capsule causes the drink to very briefly fizz before dissolving in the drink, leaving no visible trace behind.

Returning to the bedroom, he gives her the tainted glass. Setting the bottle on the nightstand nearest his side, he climbs back into bed with Amy, who's already partaking of the drink. He fights back the tears as she quickly drinks the entire glass.

“Oh! You didn't even start! I'm sorry!" She replies.

She's almost angelic in her sweetness. He turns his head away, to keep her from seeing his glossy, tear-filled eyes. Collecting the bottle, he turns to her and pours her another. They share a drink, and once they're done, Amy yawns.

“Wow, I'm suddenly so sleepy!" She remarks. “I guess you wore me out." She giggles.

“Yeah... Why don't you lie down, sweetheart..."

“Okay." She says through another yawn.

Stretching out and rolling over, she doesn't need to ask him to hold her; he slips his arms around her and cuddles with her.

“I really don't want to sleep, not with you here." She murmurs, her words slurred.

“You can go to sleep, Amy. I'll be here." He replies before kissing her cheek.

“You're so sweet... Don't let your... Minions know..." She yawns again.

Falling asleep in his arms, a tear drips from the tip of Agent Sharpe's nose and onto Amy's shoulder. She doesn't flinch or awaken. Her eyes have closed for the last time. Unable to hold back as he lies beside his lover, he slowly rocks back and forth, holding her in his arms. As the sun begins to rise on a new day, Agent Sharpe sits beside Amy's corpse. He looks upon her body. She still appears to sleep peacefully, though her flesh is turning a ghostly shade. She's cold to the touch, and though he should've sanitized the house of his presence and left, he just can't bring himself to move. All he wants is one last look, one last moment that he can no longer have.

“I'm so sorry, Amy. At least it was painless. Peaceful... That's more than most receive. Your friend, Avery Keyes..."

Agent Sharpe closes his eyes and shakes his head, baring his teeth as he growls with rage. He's angry with The Old Man, angry with himself. The regret is already overwhelming him. Perhaps he shouldn't have followed these orders? Opening his eyes, he looks down into his hands, which grip his cellular telephone. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself. He brings the phone to his ear and presses #1 on his speed-dial.

“Hello, Agent Sharpe. It's been some time since we last spoke. More than I was expecting. Is this a check-in?" The Old Man asks.

“No..." Agent Sharpe grumbles.

“Ah, an update! So, it's done, then? The leak has been patched?"

“Yeah..."

“What method did you use? May I ask the cover story?"

“Your new world better be worth it."

“... Are you alright? You sound... Upset."

Abruptly ending the call, Agent Sharpe stares at his cell phone, glaring at the device with the hatred he's rapidly cultivating for his boss.

“God damn you to hell, you old bastard." He growls.

Leaving his car in the parking lot and dashing up the steps, Dr. Chavez races to make up the time. He'd drank too much last night and now he's walking in past noon, several hours later than usual. As he climbs the steps, several men in black suits and sunglasses pass by the young doctor. He pauses as he stands half-way up the large stoop, twisting his body and looking back, at the eerie men. He watches as they climb into a blacked-out Chevy Trailblazer, the tires squealing as they leave with great haste.

“Huh... I wonder where they're going?" He thinks aloud.

Swiping his keycard and entering the lab, Dr. Chavez is greeted by his staff. In the background, his primary assistant stands near the wall-mounted emergency phone. He hangs up the receiver and turns to his superior, darting over to Dr. Chavez and the rest of the team.

“What's wrong? You were using the bad phone." Dr. Chavez asks.

“They just found her."

“Who?"

“Director Chen... She died last night. When she didn't come in this morning one of those Agents checked her house and found her. I just got the call. We're supposed to halt our experiments and focus on monitoring and maintaining the specimens in the crockpot, at least until a new Director can come in from Unifact."

A flabbergasted and horrified Dr. Chavez promptly excuses himself. Racing out of the room and far away from his subordinates, he takes shelter in a bathroom. Finding the nearest stall, he locks himself in and drops to his knees, vomiting into the toilet. Gasping for air, he stares with wide eyes, which begin to overflow with guilty tears.

“Oh God... Oh God, Amy... I'm so sorry... ... What have I done?!"