The Bunker
"This is ridiculous!"
The speaker, a middle-aged man with dark hair and dark eyes, summed up the feelings of the group. They were nine in number, seated around a great oak table that evoked the sense of power and security they once wielded, in what was rapidly becoming known as the 'World Before.' They were once leaders, politicians, captains of industry. Now, they were just men and women, struggling desperately to maintain their thrones - and their lives - as their empires crumbled out from under them.
The mood in this dimly-lit luxury bunker was grim. A large screen, completely dominating one wall, told the story. Video feed from Naval Air Station Meridian, recorded just hours earlier, showed a scene of chaos. Infected had somehow breached the perimeter, and had begun to overrun the base. The most important residents of Meridian, too valuable to risk losing, had hastily boarded awaiting helicopters - two of them sat here among the nine right now. More ominously, the base's ostensible defenders - the four subjects of Projection Legion, colloquially known as 'the Four Horsemen' - were recorded fighting Infected and uninfected alike. The muted video offered grim testimony to the power the Horsemen wielded: they tore through groups of Infected with ease and disabled veteran soldiers in seconds.
"Now that we've lost Meridian, all the successes of Project Legion are irrelevant!"
"And now our supply route has been broken!" The new speaker was younger, and sounded even more frantic. "Without Meridian we have no way of getting shipments from our west coast partners! How the hell are we supposed to hold this location now?!"
"We're accelerating the operation to reclaim Camp Shelby," a tired-looking man in disheveled Army fatigues spoke up. "But without the Horsemen to take point, it's not going to be easy."
It was a bitter pill for Sergeant Nathan Cole to swallow, having to admit to such weakness in front of these people. Ordinarily, he would have scoffed at the idea that he or his regiment needed four unqualified, undeserving civilians for anything. But taking eighty percent casualties in the fall of Meridian had deflated Cole, at least for now. It didn't make the blow any lighter that a good chunk of those casualties had not been inflicted by the Infected, but by those undeserving civilians themselves.
"What about CEDA?" demanded a third man. "What is CEDA doing?"
All eyes in the room turned to one of the two women among them, a fair Caucasian with blonde hair. She didn't look quite as haggard as the soldier did, but her white labcoat bore bloodstains and her lined face showed that she too had not had much sleep in the past twenty-four hours.
"There is not much that we can do." Doctor Erin McKinley spoke with remarkably little emotion, her voice cool and collected. "Research has proven conclusively that the subjects have incorporated the gB435 virus flawlessly into their biological structure. They don't need us to survive. And given the results of their psychological profiles, they are unlikely to return of their own free will."
"It was a mistake to rely on those things from the start." Cole couldn't resist taking the shot.
"It was your strongarm tactics that drove them away." McKinley fired back.
Cole opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off by the sound of fingers drumming impatiently along the table. He turned to rebuke whoever was responsible, only to close his mouth in a hurry when he saw who those fingers belonged to.
"Really? So they're going to try surviving on their own?"
Every head in the room, even Dr. McKinley, turned at the sound of this new speaker's voice.
"That's not right... not while the rest of us are risking our lives to keep our nation together. At least until Judgment Day..."
"I wish you wouldn't put it that way, Samael." Once again, it was the dark-haired man who spoke for the group. "We aren't the PNCA."
"My apologies, no offense intended." Samael answered smoothly, with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile dripping faux sincerity.
"Nevertheless, I cannot understand why you people have tolerated these incidents of reckless insubordination for so long, insubordination from these creatures who should be thanking us on bended knee."
No one spoke, but every ear in the room had Samael's attention. He made his point persuasively, with a sanguine smile.
"I think we've reached the point where tolerating this sort of behavior can no longer be an option."
"The subjects of Project Legion still have free will." An edge of cold irritation crept into Dr. McKinley's voice. "Science can't change that."
"As property belonging to the United States government, the 'Horsemen' should be obligated to obey her representatives. Am I wrong?"
Dr. McKinley remained silent. She knew that arguing with a fanatic like Leon Samael was pointless.
But her colleagues were not so skeptical. Many of them were in agreement with Samael, among them Sergeant Cole.
"If the task is too difficult for CEDA, I'll see to it that the Horsemen are retrieved." Samael stood, the better to address his peers.
"You will?" Cole was fairly incredulous.
"Our top priority is the retrieval of our weapons, Sergeant." Samael said, gently admonishing Cole. "We can't afford the luxury of sparing your pride."
Cole looked away, torn between feeling furious and embarrassed. He would have enjoyed nothing better at that moment than drop-kicking Samael's head up his ass.
"You have the Shelby operation to consider." Samael reminded him. He then turned to address the rest of his colleagues. "We'll increase efficiency if we divide these responsibilities."
McKinley had been hoping that CEDA would be given free rein after seeing how badly the military had screwed things up, but she could see now that wasn't happening, at least not officially. The others were all nodding in agreement with Samael, and even the troglodyte Cole wasn't arguing.
"This may even be an opportunity for me to give 'the Beast' a field test."
Only three people at the table had any idea what Samael was talking about; the rest, including Cole, shared looks of confusion. McKinley, on the other hand, wore a look of utter disbelief. Even the man who had previously spoken for the group looked stunned.
"You're planning on using that against the Horsemen?!"
"That depends on how cooperative they are." responded Samael coolly. "If these Horsemen are even half as rebellious as I've heard... then I think we could find ourselves in for a little excitement."
The speaker, a middle-aged man with dark hair and dark eyes, summed up the feelings of the group. They were nine in number, seated around a great oak table that evoked the sense of power and security they once wielded, in what was rapidly becoming known as the 'World Before.' They were once leaders, politicians, captains of industry. Now, they were just men and women, struggling desperately to maintain their thrones - and their lives - as their empires crumbled out from under them.
The mood in this dimly-lit luxury bunker was grim. A large screen, completely dominating one wall, told the story. Video feed from Naval Air Station Meridian, recorded just hours earlier, showed a scene of chaos. Infected had somehow breached the perimeter, and had begun to overrun the base. The most important residents of Meridian, too valuable to risk losing, had hastily boarded awaiting helicopters - two of them sat here among the nine right now. More ominously, the base's ostensible defenders - the four subjects of Projection Legion, colloquially known as 'the Four Horsemen' - were recorded fighting Infected and uninfected alike. The muted video offered grim testimony to the power the Horsemen wielded: they tore through groups of Infected with ease and disabled veteran soldiers in seconds.
"Now that we've lost Meridian, all the successes of Project Legion are irrelevant!"
"And now our supply route has been broken!" The new speaker was younger, and sounded even more frantic. "Without Meridian we have no way of getting shipments from our west coast partners! How the hell are we supposed to hold this location now?!"
"We're accelerating the operation to reclaim Camp Shelby," a tired-looking man in disheveled Army fatigues spoke up. "But without the Horsemen to take point, it's not going to be easy."
It was a bitter pill for Sergeant Nathan Cole to swallow, having to admit to such weakness in front of these people. Ordinarily, he would have scoffed at the idea that he or his regiment needed four unqualified, undeserving civilians for anything. But taking eighty percent casualties in the fall of Meridian had deflated Cole, at least for now. It didn't make the blow any lighter that a good chunk of those casualties had not been inflicted by the Infected, but by those undeserving civilians themselves.
"What about CEDA?" demanded a third man. "What is CEDA doing?"
All eyes in the room turned to one of the two women among them, a fair Caucasian with blonde hair. She didn't look quite as haggard as the soldier did, but her white labcoat bore bloodstains and her lined face showed that she too had not had much sleep in the past twenty-four hours.
"There is not much that we can do." Doctor Erin McKinley spoke with remarkably little emotion, her voice cool and collected. "Research has proven conclusively that the subjects have incorporated the gB435 virus flawlessly into their biological structure. They don't need us to survive. And given the results of their psychological profiles, they are unlikely to return of their own free will."
"It was a mistake to rely on those things from the start." Cole couldn't resist taking the shot.
"It was your strongarm tactics that drove them away." McKinley fired back.
Cole opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off by the sound of fingers drumming impatiently along the table. He turned to rebuke whoever was responsible, only to close his mouth in a hurry when he saw who those fingers belonged to.
"Really? So they're going to try surviving on their own?"
Every head in the room, even Dr. McKinley, turned at the sound of this new speaker's voice.
"That's not right... not while the rest of us are risking our lives to keep our nation together. At least until Judgment Day..."
"I wish you wouldn't put it that way, Samael." Once again, it was the dark-haired man who spoke for the group. "We aren't the PNCA."
"My apologies, no offense intended." Samael answered smoothly, with a shrug of his shoulders and a smile dripping faux sincerity.
"Nevertheless, I cannot understand why you people have tolerated these incidents of reckless insubordination for so long, insubordination from these creatures who should be thanking us on bended knee."
No one spoke, but every ear in the room had Samael's attention. He made his point persuasively, with a sanguine smile.
"I think we've reached the point where tolerating this sort of behavior can no longer be an option."
"The subjects of Project Legion still have free will." An edge of cold irritation crept into Dr. McKinley's voice. "Science can't change that."
"As property belonging to the United States government, the 'Horsemen' should be obligated to obey her representatives. Am I wrong?"
Dr. McKinley remained silent. She knew that arguing with a fanatic like Leon Samael was pointless.
But her colleagues were not so skeptical. Many of them were in agreement with Samael, among them Sergeant Cole.
"If the task is too difficult for CEDA, I'll see to it that the Horsemen are retrieved." Samael stood, the better to address his peers.
"You will?" Cole was fairly incredulous.
"Our top priority is the retrieval of our weapons, Sergeant." Samael said, gently admonishing Cole. "We can't afford the luxury of sparing your pride."
Cole looked away, torn between feeling furious and embarrassed. He would have enjoyed nothing better at that moment than drop-kicking Samael's head up his ass.
"You have the Shelby operation to consider." Samael reminded him. He then turned to address the rest of his colleagues. "We'll increase efficiency if we divide these responsibilities."
McKinley had been hoping that CEDA would be given free rein after seeing how badly the military had screwed things up, but she could see now that wasn't happening, at least not officially. The others were all nodding in agreement with Samael, and even the troglodyte Cole wasn't arguing.
"This may even be an opportunity for me to give 'the Beast' a field test."
Only three people at the table had any idea what Samael was talking about; the rest, including Cole, shared looks of confusion. McKinley, on the other hand, wore a look of utter disbelief. Even the man who had previously spoken for the group looked stunned.
"You're planning on using that against the Horsemen?!"
"That depends on how cooperative they are." responded Samael coolly. "If these Horsemen are even half as rebellious as I've heard... then I think we could find ourselves in for a little excitement."