Director: Dear Chairman. Sir, while I appreciate your concern, allow me to correct you in one area. I value all our subjects' well being, but I revere above all else our ability to continue as a species; our ability to survive. And no committee, no bureaucrat, will ever convince me otherwise.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Slade and Wash run up to the Reds, collecting themselves after the chase around the valley.

Grif: Hey I have a question, why do we agree to come along on these things if we're just gonna be the decoy the whole time?

Washington: Looks like you have it under control.

Slade: You lot stay here. Wash, watch their arses. I'm gonna go get Church.

Wash: What?! Why do I have to babysit? This isn't the Project!

Slade: (yelling) Yet, ya still complain like ya did back then!

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Inside the base, Church looks around, still possessing the guard.

Church: Tex? Tex, are you here? Tex, come on. Tex! Allison?

He hears a gun cock and looks behind him to see the other guard aiming his pistol at him.

Guard 2: Alright, freeze.

Church: Ahw, what?

Guard 2: They told us to be on the lookout for someone acting odd, and you're acting odd. So, hands up.

Church: Hehey, buddy, come on. You don't need to be like all...

Slade comes up behind the guard and grabs him by the collar before throwing him into the wall to the left.

Church: ...knocked out. Thanks Slade.

Slade: Church, what the fuck did we tell you? Get out of that guy.

Church: Uh yeah, one sec-

Church appears next to the guard he was previously inhabiting.

Church: There.

Guard 1: What happened? I feel kinda...

The guard falls over, unconscious.

Slade: What are you bloody doing here?

Church: I had to see Tex's body I uh, ... why am I even explaining? You've seen for yourself already! She's like me!

Slade: Church, you need to stop clinging on to her. Constantly chasing after ghosts isn't going to help you. It's only gonna make the pain worse.

Church: But where is she? She should be here, right? I mean, shouldn't she?

Slade: (sighs) Just go outside and get back in your body, please.

Church: Not until-

Slade: NOW CHURCH!

Church huffs begrudgingly and stomps off angrily. Slade makes sure he's out of sight and opens his hand as Tex appears.

Slade: He misses you.

Tex: Yeah, well, he's just like the Director. Can't seem to let go.

Slade: The arsehole is based off of an arsehole. Even when they broke you all off him, he's still the same loudmouth.

Delta then appears.

Delta: Agent California, if I may point out, keeping this a secret from Washington and Church may prove to be somewhat chaotic in future events should they find out of Agent Texas' survival or if you willingly decide to tell them.

Slade: I know that, D.

Theta then appears.

Theta: Then what're we gonna do? Church will probably be the most angry at you. And Wash is pretty much a wild card. And now South is in play with-

Slade: I KNOW, Theta. (Sighs) Look, I'll figure something out, but right now we need to-

An explosion interrupts Slade.

Slade: Can we ever go FIVE MINUTES without something getting blown to hell?

Slade rushes outside and sees the Reds and Wash in the Warthog driving away from a Hornet chasing them.

Slade: What the hell is happening?!

Sarge: What does it look like?

Grif: We're running from the stupid plane!

Slade: Well, we need to leave. We have a Warthog at Blue Base. We'll take that and you lot all follow me!

Sarge: What about the ship?!

Slade: Just shoot it down!

Sarge: Not that simple!

Grif: If it's so easy, why don't you do it?

Slade rolls his eyes and takes out his sword, leveling it behind him and reeling his arm back. Slade then throws his sword as it flies through the air and slices one of the Hornet's engines, making it crash to the ground as his sword flies back into Slade's hand.

Slade: Are we done here?

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Everyone is now gathered at Blue Base.

Washington: Alright, I need suggestions. The Freelancer Command Facility is an underground complex of secure bunkers and fortified chambers. Let's put our heads together and see if we can figure out a way to get in there.

Grif: I have an idea.

Washington: And "let's not do it" is not an acceptable plan.

Grif: Oh. Well you probably should have said that before you asked for suggestions.

Slade punches Grif in the face.

Grif: OW!

Washington: Next idea.

Simmons: Why don't we call Command, and ask them what the proper procedure is for invading their headquarters?

Slade elbows Simmons in the gut, making him keel over and cough violently, gasping for breath.

Washington: Next.

Sarge: How about we build a makeshift nuclear device, and blow the entire place to kingdom-

Washington: No. We have to get in there.

Simmons: (shakily stands up) Why?

Washington: 'Cause we need to unlock the Alpha.

Simmons: The what?

Slade: It's the main A.I. from Project Freelancer. You know all the A.I.s that we've had to deal with over the years? It's where they were all copied from originally.

Simmons: You can't copy an A.I.!

South: We know that, cyborg-boy.

Grif: The main one? Fuck that. Those things have caused all of our problems. Why would we go looking for the main boss one?

Church: That's a good question. Agent Washington? Slade? Do you guys wanna answer that?

Washington: You'll understand everything soon enough.

Simmons: We're not going.

Washington: What? You have to go.

Simmons: Not really.

South: We can't infiltrate Headquarters with just six people.

Kan: (chuckling) Seven. I count double.

Slade: That's an order, Grif.

Grif: Order? You're not our Commanding Officer. We don't even know what rank you are.

Washington: We're Freelancers!

Grif: Not a rank dude.

Simmons: The other Freelancers never gave orders, they just offered to trade favors.

Washington: Okay, then let's bargain. What do you want?

The Reds, minus Slade, huddle and start conversing with words mumbling between them in and out.

South: Cal, you have the stupidest squad ever.

Slade: (sarcastically) Thank you, for emphasizing that for me once again, lass.

The Reds turn to the Blues and Freelancers.

Sarge: Alright, we talked about it, and we figured out what we want.

Washington: Alright, let's have it.

Sarge: We want you to demote Grif.

Washington: Done.

Grif: What?!

Slade: On the bright side? They're not smart enough to ask for much.

Simmons: Another wasted opportunity.

Washington: Congratulations. You are now Private Grif again.

Sarge: Got anything lower?

Washington: Private... Junior Grif?

Sarge: I was thinkin' something with an insulting adjective, or... maybe a demeaning adverb...

Washington: How about, Minor Junior Private Grif, Negative First class?

Sarge: Heh heh, I like the way you think.

Grif: You realize you just doomed us to certain death just so you could insult me, right?

Sarge: Hey, if we do get killed, at least we'll go out on a high note. Well, everybody but you. That's to be expected, you haven't had a high note in five years! Why break the God damn streak.

Slade: God, why do you forsake me so?

Washington: We still need to figure out how we're getting in there.

South: We checked both bases. Nothing except a tank and the Reds jeep. We COULD have been able to make due if Cal didn't destroy that Hornet, but....

Slade: OI! It's called being a pure, unadulterated badass, lass!

Tex: (in Slade's mind) And looking hot while doing so, if I do says so myself.

Delta: (in Slade's mind) I do not believe now is the time for being flirtatious, Agent Texas.

Kan: And not all of us are equipped with cloaking, I must add.

Caboose: Slade? Mister Washington? I have an idea.

Washington: I really shouldn't even bother asking, should I?

Slade: I don't know, Caboose? An idea? Let's see what he's got.

Church: I say he's bluffing.

Caboose: No uh, it's a really good idea. We drive there.

Church: Yeah, he was bluffing.

Caboose: We're going to Freelancer City, right? The place where Freelancers are from. And this is a Freelancer car! If they think that we are Freelancers, because we are in their car, they will just let us right in!

Washington: But you don't look like Freelancers. Or Recovery Agents.

Caboose: ...They can't see inside of a tank.

Slade, Wash, and South all look at each other.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

In Project Freelancer Operational Command Center, Wash and Church (who is currently possessing a dead soldier's armor) are in the Warthog, with everyone else is in the tank, minus Slade and Kan who are cloaked and hanging off the side of the Warthog where the soldiers can't their shimmers.

Church: There's no way this plan is gonna work.

Washington: Just stay quiet. Follow my lead.

Sarge: Grif! Get off me, you weigh a ton.

Grif: Stop pushing me! Ow!

Simmons: Okay guys, it's hard enough to fit in here- oh! Wh-Who did that?

South: Will you guys shut up?! WHO JUST TOUCHED MY ASS?!

Caboose: Sorry.... I can't breathe.

Guard: Alright. Uh, story checks out. Looks like there was a new incident at Outpost 17-B. Glad you fellas made it out okay.

Washington: Yeah, thanks.

Church: Yeah, it was crazy. We lost a lot of good men. Especially Joe... Joe Johnson. He was a great guy. I remember he had a girl back home named... Fritzy.

Washington: Stop embellishing. They already believe us.

Church: He also had a dog named Mister Chomps. Anyway he's dead now, it's sad.

Slade, still being cloaked, reached up and smacked Church, signifying him to can it.

Guard: You're clear now. So drive on to Building Three.

Washington: Understood. Thanks, soldier.

Church: Can't believe that worked.

Washington: Yeah. Seemed like it was too easy.

Church: Wash, you're gonna learn when you work with us, there's no such thing as too easy. You're just being paranoid.

Washington: Yeah. You're probably right.

As they roll into the compound the Meta is seen hanging off the back of the tank.

(HEY GUYS! I'M BACK! AGAIN, SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! THERE'S BEEN A LOT OF DEATH LATELY IN MY FAMILY. BOTH MY GRANDFATHERS AND MY MOTHER ALL IN THE LAST FEW MONTHS, SO LIFE'S BEEN DEPRESSING. I'M JUST GLAD THEY'RE NO LONGER SUFFERING AND EXPERIENCING PARADISE. KNOWING THAT ALWAYS HELPS! SO, I WILL DO MY BEST TO UPDATE WHATEVER I FEEL I'M IN THE MOOD FOR! RIGHT NOW? RVB! SO UNTIL THEN, STAY SAFE AND HEALTHY OUT THERE!)