Grif crashes the jeep into the Elephant, making Sarge hop out. Slade drives the Mongoose into the safe area with ease, and he and Kan hop out, looking at the two Reds.

Sarge: Aw, dammit Grif! Lookit what you did now! You busted up a brand new jeep.

Grif: Me? You were the idiots that started setting off mines.

Sarge: Well, I managed to get out there and not get hit by anything!

Grif: Because you jumped on the roof of the car! That's cheating.

Sarge: No, it's called strategy!

Grif: Well, your "strategy" broke the jeep. So don't go blaming me. And the blue guy's dead too—how are we gonna explain that?

Slade: He's not dead, ya wankers.

Grif: And how do you know that?

Slade: Because with everything that happened back in the Gulch and how many times you guys have defied death which should've been physically impossible, you all survived. So I'm telling you, he ain't fuckin' dead.

Rho: (appearing) Ya got that right. He's actually making his 'descent' as we speak. Watch your heads. (disappears)

A man in brown armor with white accents having a robot arm, walks out.

(THIS IS THE ARM)

Slade instantly recognizes the armor but is more surprised from the voice that speaks.

Intercom Guy: What the hell! What were you thinking?

Sarge: We don't need to explain why he died, Grif. We're Reds! Killing Blues is our business. And today, business is good.

Kan: He. Is. Not. Dead.

Grif: But we didn't kill him! He stepped on a mine and blew up. And he's the reason that we're on this stupid mission. So now what?

Sarge: Hm. I see your point. So let us have a moment of silence in honor of the dead Blue guy. Bow your head.

Intercom Guy: Hey, are you listening to me?

Grif: Do you mind? We're having a moment of silence. Show some respect.

Intercom Guy: What? (to Slade) What is with your guys?

Slade: (fake American accent) They've always been idiots.

Sarge: Dear Lord, we thank you for taking another Blue back to Heaven today. Or rather not Heaven, but whatever fiery pit you send Blues to so they can suffer in eternity. You should've taken Grif. ...But you didn't. Again. Not sure why, it would've been easy! Those mine things are everywhere! But I guess you know what you're doing.

Caboose is screaming from above as he descends towards the ground. Slade sees him and taps Kan to look up.

Slade: (fake American accent) Called it.

Caboose then hits the ground, hard.

Kan: (ignoring Caboose's crash) Why do you speak with such a-

Slade slaps his hand over Kan's mouth.

Slade: (in his normal voice, whispering) Later, mate. When the guy in the brown armor ain't here. He's not who he seems, so keep your eyes peeled and ears to the ground.

Kan: (nodding, quietly) Understood.

Caboose stands up, as if nothing happened.

Caboose: Wow. Now that was a big explosion.

Grif: Blue guy's back.

Caboose: (runs around to the Reds) I was really high. Did anyone get a picture?

Sarge: And now you brought him back. And Grif's still here! I hate to criticize, but you could've had him land on Grif and squash him! That would've been easy! Just a note; you can take it or leave it, like I said it's not really in my place to criticize. (stops bowing head) Okay, the end, amen.

Intercom Guy: ... What the fuck is wrong with you people?

Sarge: Whoa. Now who are you?

Intercom Guy: Who am I? Who are you? I'm supposed to be here. You guys are accessing an area on lockdown.

Sarge: Lockdown?

Intercom Guy: This is a restricted dig site, what are you doing here?

Caboose: Oh, uh, we were just looking for, uh...

Sarge: Oh, we're just passing through on the way to meet up with the rest of our squad.

A Mongoose approaches the group.

Intercom Guy: Oh, great. Stay here. Don't move. Don't touch anything. (runs off)

Grif: Why didn't you ask about Tucker?

Sarge: We don't know anything about these guys! What if they're the ones causing trouble for Tucker? We don't know if we can trust them yet.

Caboose: Oh right! Because normally you guys are the ones who cause trouble for Tucker.

Sarge: Right. That's our job.

Slade: You're right in not trusting them, Sarge. I know who that bastard is. He's the former leader of the Resistance, calls himself 'Headcase'.

(AGAIN, I KNOW THAT'S NOT HIS REAL NAME BUT IT'S EASIER THAN JUST CALLING HIM WHATEVER ROOSTER-TEETH AND FANDOM PEOPLE DO!)

Grif: 'Headcase'? More like 'Mentalcase' if he's calling himself something THAT stupid.

Sarge: Resistance? Resistance of what?

Slade: A group of renegade soldiers that fought against Project Freelancer. And that armor he's wearing is the armor of one my former squad-mates: Connecticut or C.T. for short. She was always vague and shady because she was secretly working with them.

Grif: And we needed to know this... why?

Slade: Because I'm the one that killed C.T.. And you all saw how he had a robot arm? I ripped off his real one when he and C.T. fought me at their base. And if he finds out who I really am, he'll kill all of us, starting with me.

Grif: (sarcastically) Nice job, Slade. Full fucking circle with this Freelancer bullshit: if we don't find it, it winds up finding us!

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

Back at Valhalla, Simmons is still trying to convince Lopez.

Simmons: Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy. Listen Lopez, I'm not racist. I just didn't know you were standing there when I said that.

Lopez: [How does that make you not racist?]

Simmons: I had a lot of mechanical friends while growing up. Seriously, I am not a racist.

Lopez: [Whatever.]

Simmons: In fact, I'm one-eighth cyborg.

Lopez: [Really?]

Simmons: Yeah.

Lopez: [On your mother's side?]

Simmons: Yeah, you know, from my accident, when Sarge replaced all my organs.

Lopez: [Oh, right.]

Simmons: See? I'm down with the one-zero-one...zero-zero-one... thing.

Lopez: [No one calls it that anymore]

Simmons: Look, I'm just saying I'm sorry. Now, can you help me with those explosives? Please?

Lopez: (grunts) [I guess...]

Simmons: Okay... then we're cool?

Lopez: [Yeah. We're cool.]

Simmons: Oh, that's a relief. I was getting worried there for a minute. I know how you Mexicans like to hold a grudge!

There's a long, uncomfortable silence as Simmons realizes his mistake.

Simmons: .... I'll just find another way to blow up the base.

Lopez: [Good luck with that.]

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

Back at the desert, the soldier, now known to be 'Headcase' from Slade, returns with a purple Elite.

Headcase: Okay, now, we want the five of you to go-

Grif/Sarge: Whoa! (back up)

Caboose: Uh oh. (backs up)

Slade and Kan don't move an inch as they just watch the three back up.

Headcase: What the...? Oh, right! Sorry, I'm so used to working with aliens now that I forget that some people don't have any experience.

Sarge: Oh, we've got experience with these things. Some of us more than others.

Headcase: You guys fought aliens during a war?

Grif and Sarge look to Caboose, who looks down dejectedly, and then turn their attention back to Headcase.

Grif: ...Yeah. Something like that. Let's just say we got a little closer to them than we thought physically possible.

Headcase: What about your Elite Ultra buddy there?

Kan: My name is V'kan, human. Remember that.

Slade: (fake American accent) Don't mind him. That's just his way of saying 'hello'.

Headcase: (surprised) He speaks English?

Slade: (fake American accent) A long story for another time.

Headcase: Well, don't worry about ol' Smith here. He's really friendly.

Grif: ...Yeah, that doesn't really put us at ease.

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

At the UNSC Maximum Security Detention Facility, Washington is escorted by a guard.

Guard: All right Washington. The man in charge has agreed to see you. You have five minutes. Do anything aggressive, and I'll shoot you. Do anything weird, and I'll shoot you. Do anything I don't like—

Washington: And you'll shoot me. I got it. I think I've identified the pattern.

Guard: Talk back again, and I'll shoot you. I don't know why he's even seeing you.

Washington: Because I know something he wants to know.

Guard: Well, good for you. You have five minutes.

Washington: Guess I should say thank you.

Guard: I guess you should get going. Your five minutes already started.

The door then opens.

Chairman: My dear Agent Washington. I'm so pleased to make your acquaintance, do come in. I feel that we have much to discuss.