Chapter 9

.

"This is truly unfortunate. As a fellow man of science, I was sure you would at least have enough professional curiosity to participate in Project Nihil." Gray Mann was standing over Medic, his sunken features appearing skeletal in the dim light.

"If zhat vere true," Medic rasped. "You vould not have resorted to drugging me."

Gray ignored him. Picked up the ice-pick.

Medic was propped up in a chair, his hands tied behind his back, one eye swollen shut and his upper lip twice its natural size. He hung his head, accepted his fate. There was only so much physical and mental torment a man could endure, and Medic had reached his limit.

Gray lifted the pick, inspecting it with a grin before nodding to the Medibot standing behind Medic to hold their captives head still. The machine clamped its cold fingers around Medic, forced his head back.

Take a deep breath.

"Sir," said a Demobot, entering the room. "The prisoners have escaped. They are heading this way."

Prisoners? Medic thought he'd heard wrong at first, until Gray spoke up.

"They what?" He whipped round, lowering the pick. "Where is Spy and Pauling?"

The bot was quiet for a moment as its sensors sent new data through its system, information travelling from all around the base and collecting in its memory. "Spy is dead," it confirmed. "Pauling is approaching here along with the prisoners."

"That-That-" Gray stabbed the ice-pick into his Medibot in frustration, but it done little damage. The bot didn't even register its master's attack. "Kill them. Now!"

The Demobot left. One of the worst things about his machines, Gray thought, was that they could not show fear or intimidation. He liked his inferiors to show that they knew their place. Machines could offer no such comfort, a trait he disliked in others – but craved for himself. He exhaled shakily, his nerves pulsing beneath his skin.

"I'll deal with you later," he spat, striding away from Medic. "Pauling is not going to get away with this betrayal."

When he was left alone, Medic tried one last time to pull at his bounds, tugging desperately. It was no good, the beating the RED Spy had delivered left him in too much pain to put effort into his struggle. He had nothing. No one. He just wanted the end to come, and Gray hadn't even had the mercy to deliver that.

..

The moment they had retrieved their weapons, the ambush party arrived.

Miss Pauling was the first to fire, using a double-barrelled shotgun with more proficiency than was expected of an assistant. Then again, it was becoming far clearer to Sniper that she was far more than just that.

They dispatched the Demobot and Scoutbot and kept moving, adrenaline fuelling their aching legs.

They stopped when an axe-wielding Pyrobot turned the corner up ahead, looming like a steel phantom in the hallway.

Sniper fumbled to reload his rifle with his broken finger, but Spy was already breaking into a run, heading straight for the machine.

The Pyrobot swung the axe at him, but Spy ducked and rolled. The blade missed, and he landed on the balls of his feel and jumped up, aiming a shot at the machines circuit base on the back of its neck. It dodged, the bullet firing uselessly into the wall.

A second Pyrobot appeared, this one gripping a flamethrower. There was no time to think. Fire plumed out from the nozzle, filling the air with unbearable heat. Spy staggered back, but the axe-wielding bot swung at him again, the head of its weapon missing and burying itself into the floor, becoming stuck. As it struggled to pull the axe free, a rifle bullet blasted into the back of its head, shutting it down.

"Gotcha." Sniper was running to Spy with Miss Pauling in tow, heat enveloping them.

Flames cast their shadows onto the wall, a flickering shadow-puppet show from hell. The crackling of fire surrounded them, the smoke thick and smothering. Spy coughed into a gloved hand, brought up his revolver.

He shot at the flamethrower twice, one bullet hitting the weapon uselessly, but the second successfully taking out the wielder. It collapsed with a loud clank.

"We need to keep moving!" Pauling shouted over the flames, running ahead to lead the men to their destination. They followed, Sniper's hand spasming from the pain of his snapped finger.

Spy's hand began to tremble, and he almost lost the grip on his gun. No, he thought, not now. He switched the revolver to his other hand, cursing to himself. The tremoring generally preceded a severe headache, and he was in no position to lose his concentration.

When they arrived at the end room, Miss Pauling blasted the head off the Medibot and entered. She froze. When Sniper and Spy caught up to her, they stilled as well.

They had found Medic.

He glanced up at them from the confines of his chair, his one good eye going wide with shock. His face was black and blue, swollen and broken. He began to tremble and try to speak, but only noises escaped his lips.

Sniper ran to him, couching down to look into his injured face. Medic stared right through him, his watery eyes roaming around the room suspiciously, as if this was all just another cruel game. He began to panic, pulling away from Sniper when he stretched out his hand.

"Doc, it's me, it's Sniper," He took Medic's face in his good hand, forcing the shaking man to concentrate on his face. Medic tried to flinch from his touch but Sniper kept his hand there, gentle but secure. It took a moment, but Medic managed to bring his eyes back into focus. He looked at Sniper, inspecting his features through the blur. A look of relief washed over him as recognition sank in.

"Yeah, it's me," said Sniper, moving his hand from Medic's face to his shoulder. "You're safe now."

Medic nodded weakly, still unconvinced. Safe. That concept sounded too good to be true. He sniffed up the blood leaking from his nose, tried to speak again. Again, he couldn't.

"Spy," Sniper called over his shoulder. "Can you cut him free?" Spy walked around the chair, crouching down as he took out his knife. He began to saw into the restraints.

"Everything's gonna be alright, Doc," Sniper was assuring him, rubbing his shoulder.

Medic nodded stiffly again, his eye's glazing over, his mind slipping somewhere unpleasant. "I … I … need them…"

Sniper had to lean in to hear him. "Need what?"

"I need them," said Medic, rubbing his wrists as they came free. "… pills."

Sniper cast a look at Spy, who gave him a pitying look but said nothing. He knew exactly what Medic was feeling right now.

"We'll get you some, mate." Sniper stood, moved to help Medic do the same.

Medic could barely stay on his feet. "I can't … I …" he grabbed onto Sniper's vest, clinging to him desperately. His whole body began to tremble. "… can't."

The action surprised Sniper. He nearly tugged away, but forced himself not to. "Don't worry, I promise that you're safe now. We're gonna get you outta here." He gently wrapped his arm under the German and lifted him to his feet, walking him slowly toward the door.

Medic was limping too heavily, all of his weight pulling on Sniper each time he stepped with his right foot. When Sniper opened his mouth to admit he couldn't manage on his own, Spy approached before he could speak.

He slung Medic's other arm over his shoulder. Together, the pair managed to drag the injured man from the chamber, following Miss Pauling up ahead.

"Spy," Pauling turned to him as they walked. "Do you still have the RED's key-card?"

"I do."

"Then we need to go to the main control point."

Sniper made a face. "Are you kidding? We need to get the hell outta here."

Pauling nodded. "And we will. But there will be no point if Gray isn't taken down."

"Do you have the access code to his base terminal?" Spy asked, curling his fingers around Medic's belt to get a firmer hold.

"Yes," said Pauling. "But nothing more. And I don't know how much access you'll get to the security system with just the key-card – Gray Mann didn't trust the RED Spy as much as he made out."

Spy grimaced. "Understandable." Medic must have passed out, because he wasn't even trying to walk on his own anymore. His head hung, his grip on their shoulders loosened. "We need to hurry."

With Miss Pauling in the lead, familiar with bases layout, they arrived at the main control room quickly and without trouble. Once inside, Sniper kept a firm but gentle grip on Medic as Pauling and Spy approached the large terminal in the centre.

The room was huge, screens of differing sizes covering every wall. Sniper did not know what all the numbers and codes meant, but he knew exactly what the large bomb beyond the window meant.

Spy brought out the key-card and scanned it into the terminal, bringing the screen to life in a series of green flashes. Pauling pushed her glasses up and took over, typing furiously as several forms of cryptic data appeared, demanding passcodes and identification. When the screen went red and a window appeared proclaiming 'access denied', Pauling stepped back.

She hissed through her teeth and gave Spy a concerned look, moving a loose lock of hair from her eyes. "This is as far as I can get us, the rest is up to you."

Spy nodded, switched places with her. "I'll get us in."

Pauling picked up the shotgun she had placed aside and turned to watch the door behind Sniper and Medic. She looked at her watch and scowled.

"Shit," Sniper moved away from the entrance. "I can hear something, sounds like a lot of the buggers."

"Damn it," Pauling lifted the barrel. "Come on Spy…"

"I'm trying." His fingers were tapping frantically, sweat coating his disfigured forehead.

Sniper pulled Medic over to stand side by side with Pauling, unsheathing a combat knife.

"Pauling," it was Gray Mann. He sounded possessed with rage. Two Heavybots erupted through the door, sending dust up in clouds. The old man behind them was dwarfed by their size, but the look on his face made him equally as terrifying. "How dare you betray me!"

"You were blackmailing me," she retorted, the shotgun still raised. "If I could have, I would have done it sooner."

"I was not blackmailing you," he sneered. "We made a deal; cooperate with me, and your Medic could go free after the completion of project Nihil. But no - now, none of you will leave this base alive. I hope you're proud of yourself."

"That doesn't matter anymore," said Sniper, stepping a little in front of Pauling. "You've lost old man. You need Medic to help ya? Well he won't. Never – and once he's dead you'll have nobody left."

Gray gave him a condescending look, his tone patronising. "I didn't get where I am today for nothing," he lifted his head, his leathery skin stretching over his skull. "This is but an inconvenience. Once you imbeciles are out of my way, I'll think of something. I always do." He took a step back and the Heavybots lifted their massive mini-guns. "Annihilate them."

Time seemed to stop as the mini-guns started whirling. Sniper moved his body in front of Medics, a vain attempt to shield him. He'd had near death experiences before, but this one wrapped itself around his heart. It wasn't just Sniper that was about to die, and he felt somehow responsible for the whole mess.

If he were a man of faith, he would say his final prayer about now.

Pauling fired at Gray, but both bullets bounced uselessly off the Heavybots and landed on the floor, rolling away. She lowered the gun, her green eye's stinging. She did not want to die in this place.

The whirling of the mini-guns quickened, and quickened, and then spluttered. Sparks began to fly and the large machines aiming at them began to twitch. Gray frowned and began to ease back, his mouth opening and closing silently like a fish. The loud staccato that followed was not bullets being released, but wires exploding from the back of the Heavybots necks.

'Security Alert – defences are down.'

Gray snapped his head up, looked over at Spy. He was standing at the computer; inside Gray's own private controls. He had successfully breached all the security codes, and had rewritten all of them. Everything began to shut down, the lights dimmed, decades of memory wiped from the systems forever.

"No…" The blood drained from Gray's face and he had to jump out of the way as his towering machines fell backwards, almost crushing him. The light that signalled their power dulled until it extinguished completely. The machines that had nearly mowed down Grays final threat now looked like nothing more than piles of scrap metal.

"No!" Gray was screaming, his hands clawing at his head hard enough to rake bloody lines into his scalp. "What have you done!"

Sniper grinned, his eyes glancing back at Spy's triumphant grin before returning to the old man. "He's put your plans in the gutter and destroyed your lifes work. You're done, you bloody wanker."

"And that is just the start of it." Said Spy, stepping down, away from the terminal. Despite his pain, Spy adopted a graceful stride, every muscle poised as he walked. A predator closing in on his pray.

Gray Mann backed further and further to the side, away from the man he had tortured and mutilated. He backed himself up against another computer terminal as Spy pulled out his revolver and took aim.

"If you pathetic little wretches think I'm going to die alone," he lowered his hand, tucked his fingers beneath the counter that held the screen. "You're greatly mistaken." he pressed the button hidden beneath the counter, a manic smile spreading over his face.

The room became engulfed in a blinking red light, followed by a wailing siren. Whenever red was not encompassing their vision, their surroundings were swallowed in pitch darkness. Sniper and Pauling tensed and glanced around, fear creeping up their backs.

The siren's scream made it near impossible to hear.

Gray was laughing. The sound did not reach Spy's ears, but he could see that face. That twisted, evil face. Gray's mouth was stretched wide, his head flung back, shoulders lifting and dropping. The red light shone onto his face, glowing in his eyes, giving him the appearance of the devil he really was.

Spy sent a bullet between his eyes.

Gray's head jerked back violently, blood spraying over the screens behind him, his insanity extinguished. Had it not been for the siren, Spy was sure he would hear the satisfying gurgle of the man who had so terribly hurt him. Who had murdered his team mates. He was finally dead.

There was no time to savour victory.

The large bomb beyond the window lit up, and the walls around them seemed to vibrate. As Gray's blood trickled down the screens, Spy saw the words flashing upon it. 'Self-destruction activated.'

"Oh, God." He turned and began to shout and gesture wildly at Sniper, but his words were drowned out by the siren.

The floor beneath their feet began to shake, small cracks spreading and becoming longer, wider. Chunks of the ceiling began to rain down, some big enough to kill were it to land on them.

The two Heavybots twitched on the floor by the entrance, their lights flickering back on. Only this time, the lights were not blue - they were red.

Spy grabbed Miss Pauling by the hand and leapt over the machines, running from the room. Sniper followed, pulling Medic alongside him. His steps where awkward as he struggled, Medic's weight too much to haul along with only one uninjured hand.

When he left the control room, it was chaos. All of the bots lights had turned from blue to red, and they were attacking each other savagely. Sniper gaped at the scene, concern and confusion creasing his face.

A hulking Soldierbot sat astride a writhing Sniperbot, tearing its circuits out with more aggression than should have been possible for a machine. They seemed angry.

Spy and Pauling were already at the end of the hall, waving frantically back at Sniper to hurry. His desire to live empowering him, Sniper began to run, dragging Medic along like a heavy sandbag.

They all ran.

The hall shifted from red to black, from red to black, the walls cracking and the floor crumbling beneath their feet. The only sound in the world was the screeching of the siren.

Opting for the stairs rather than the elevator came naturally, and Pauling was the first through the door. Medic seemed to be coming around but Sniper still struggled to pull him along and, in the end, he threw the man over his shoulder and carried him. The alarm drowned out Medic's screams as his cracked ribs were repeatedly squashed into Snipers bony shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fists curled into the back of Snipers vest.

Down the stairs, the party rushed through another door, passing a large, spherical desk and computer terminal with a timer that read '19 SECONDS' in large, glowing text.

Spy kicked a glass door in before yanking open the steel one beyond it, causing sunlight to spill through into the base. The natural light temporarily blinded him, but Spy ushered Pauling and Sniper out before leaving himself.

They raced away as fast as their legs could carry them, their hearts trying to hide in their throats. They hadn't gotten far when a huge wave of white heat, forceful and strong, knocked them all face down into the dirt.

Sound ceased to exist; only wind and heat filled their senses. Then nothing. Then came the great roar, pounding their eardrums as if willing them to burst. The ground shook uncontrollably beneath them.

Spy lay still with his eyes squeezed shut, not daring to move until the quake had passed. He wondered why he couldn't feel his legs and why he couldn't breathe. A wave of panic hit him. Was he terribly hurt? Was he dying? His ears weren't ringing; they were screaming.

Slowly, he moved his legs, wiggled his toes, all too grateful for the pain. Pain was better than paralysis. Spy opened his eyes and blinked the spots away before shakily getting to his feet.

They had barely managed to get out of the blast radius, but they were all alive.

Sniper looked at the headquarters as it belched black smoke into the sky, flames licking the clouds. He turned to Medic who had crumbled to his knees, his face in his hands. The doctor was a burnt out husk of the proud, enthusiastic man Sniper had known so well, and it pained him greatly to witness.

He crouched and placed a hand on Medic's shoulder. "He won't be bothering you again, Doc."

Trembling, Spy opened the device on his forearm and lifted it to his face. When it beeped, he licked his bloody lips and said "We done it," he glanced over at Sniper and grinned. "Come and get us."

..

Sandro the helicopter pilot, as Sniper now knew him, had remained in the area. When the sounds of blades cutting through the air had reached their ears, the relief struck them like a physical blow. They were actually leaving this place – they had beaten Gray Mann.

When Sandro landed and saw Spy's ruined face, he got out and rushed over, pulling Spy into a tight hug. He spoke feverishly in Spanish and, though Spy seemed uncomfortable by the gesture, he patted the pilot on the back before motioning for the others to step into the helicopter.

They all watched the smoking ruins of Gray's headquarters as the helicopter lifted, flying directly over the top of it until it became no more than a blip in the landscape.

It was unusual, looking down at the place they so very nearly lost their lives in.

They sat in silence at first, Sniper next to Medic and across from Spy, who sat shoulder to shoulder with Miss Pauling. They all looked like death, despite their victory. Exhaustion had taken hold and the beatings the three men had received left them stiff and sore. Medic looked completely out of it, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. He was still in shock.

Sleep eventually came, but not for long.

"Where are we going?" Pauling asked when Spy stirred, rubbing his eyes.

"Paris," he said. "I can get you all home from there."

"Home," Medic mumbled in his sleep. He was leaning on Snipers shoulder, rocking with the movement of the helicopter.

Sniper kept his tired eyes trained outside, his jaw muscles tight. "Yeah."

..

When Helene opened the front door of the Brochand Manor, tears instantly welled up in her blue eyes when she saw her brother standing there. They didn't exchange words.

Helene flung her arms around him, squeezing him tightly as tears ran freely down her face. Spy returned the embrace, smoothing his sister's untamed hair. And he laughed. He laughed in disbelief, realising he truly had accepted that he would never see her again. And yet, here they were, clinging to one another, alive and well.

"I thought I'd lost you again." She whispered.

Me too, thought Spy.

Medic was quickly taken to one of the many bedrooms where Helene tended to his wounds. Pauling marvelled at the opulence around her, just as stunned as Sniper had been upon his first arrival to the Brochand Estate.

"Is Medic going to be alright?" Pauling asked, slumping down into a chair in the dining room.

"Héléne knows what she is doing," Spy said, popping some pills into his mouth before lighting a cigarette. "He will recover, but it will take some time."

Pauling nodded and then yawned deeply, rubbing her eyes. She had aged considerably over the last few days.

"Come," Spy offered his hand. "I'll show you to your room for tonight." Pauling accepted the offer and he helped her to her feet.

Finally out of harm's way, all of the pain, fatigue and stress of the last couple of weeks was hammering into Pauling's body and mind. She felt about ready to collapse, and was grateful for Spy's support.

Sniper quietly followed as Spy showed her to one of the manors guest rooms. Once inside, Pauling had went out like a light the minute she lay on the bed. Spy gently removed her glasses and placed them on the bedside dresser. Pauling's was a story he would like to hear, when she was ready.

When he stepped back into the hall, Sniper had walked further down to stare out of the window. Rain had begun to fall, beating gently against the windowpane, the sound visibly soothing him. Sniper smiled to himself.

Spy approached him, one hand in his pocket, leisurely drawing on his cigarette.

"Medic going to be fit to return to Germany tomorrow?" Sniper asked, eyes still focused outside.

"If not tomorrow, then soon enough." Spy exhaled smoke. "The best place for him to be right now is home."

"Yeah." Sniper nodded. He swallowed the lump in his throat, rubbed his tired eyes. Christ, he was tired. But he knew his mind would not bless him with sleep. Not yet.

"Sandro is willing to take you anywhere in the world tomorrow," said Spy. "Though, I already told him you would be going to Australia." Sniper's head snapped to the side and he glared at him. Spy merely shrugged. "You just agreed that the best place to be is home."

Sniper bared his teeth. "Not fer me."

"Why not?"

"I can't go back."

Spy cocked his head to the side. "Why not?"

"Because I can't." said Sniper, turning to take a seat on a small, velvet couch. Only rich people would keep couches in the hall.

A long silence followed before Spy sighed, approaching the window Sniper had been looking out. "Then you do not have to," he said quietly, barely a whisper. "You will always have a home here."

For a moment, Sniper thought he had misheard him. He stared at the back of Spy's head, undisguised surprise etched onto his face. Spy said nothing more, simply watched the raindrops slide down the window.

Had the man – the former BLU Spy – just willingly opened his home to him, even though their forced alliance was now over?

Sniper swallowed again, trying to find his voice. "Thanks."

After a long moment, Spy turned and took the seat next to him, exhaling smoke. The prolonged silence that followed was a comfortable one. They sat and watched the dark grey sky, relaxing. Sniper pulled out a cigarette.

They thought of everything that had happened since that first day at Gravel Pit as the rainfall got heavier. After everything, Sniper still could not believe how far they'd come.

Spy eventually broke the silence in a soft voice. "What really happened to Ricky?"

Sniper's cigarette paused on its way to his lips. He went very still. "You think I lied about him?" the cigarette completed its journey. He inhaled deeply.

"You said you tried and failed to find the man who kidnapped him," Said Spy. "I find it hard to believe that a man in possession of tracking skills such as yours could not accomplish that. Especially considering the circumstances."

Sniper reflected upon that and nodded. "Yeah."

The rain continued to fall. Spy kept his gaze away from Sniper to encourage him to talk, keeping his eyes focused on the window. "So what really happened?"

Quietly, Sniper said "Nothing," and hung his head to massage the back of his neck. "Ricky isn't real. Never was." He chuckled sourly. "He was my only mate, yeah, but he never actually existed." Spy frowned. He had never heard of a man having nightmares about an imaginary childhood friend.

"You said that you felt guilty because of what your scoutmaster did to him?" He choose his words carefully, voiced them quietly.

Sniper kept his eyes forward. "Yeah."

Spy recalled his previous conversation with Sniper; "Ricky had always been different around him. Quieter, y'know? I can't believe none of the adults ever noticed and tried to help him." He paused, his eyes darkening. "Can't believe I didn't."

Spy finally allowed his gaze to leave the window, felt something twist and tighten in his chest; it trickled down into his stomach and churned, making him feel sick. He closed his eyes.

"'Ricky' was how you coped with what your Scoutmaster did to you."

Another long silence. "Yeah."

Spy shook his head, looked at him. "You were just a boy," He said, but Sniper wouldn't look back at him. "Guilt is not something you should ever feel about that."

Sniper inhaled deeply. "I…" He trailed off, unable to force the words out.

"What?" Spy asked, not moving a muscle, knowing that to do so would interrupt. He waited patiently while Sniper choose his words, hands rigid in his lap.

"I let it happen." He whispered eventually. The sound of the rain seemed to stop even as it battered against the glass. They were the only two people in the world at that moment. "Again and again," he said softly. "I never tried to stop it."

Spy felt a knot tie in his chest. "There was no way you could have known what to do."

Sniper shook his head, his face unreadable. "Not as a kid I couldn't, but … I grew up. He moved on to others. It stopped for me, but not for him. And I let him." His eyes suddenly focused as he pulled himself out of the darkest recesses of his mind. He turned, looked Spy in the eye. "Every single kid he hurt after then … was hurt because I never stopped him."

When Sniper's blue eyes filled with tears, Spy felt the knot constrict around his heart. It was an alien feeling to him; to feel such deep-seated pain for another. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm around Sniper's shoulders.

He did not bawl, nor did he sob. Instead, Sniper just sat, looking at his clasped hands with tears running down his face, completely silent. His breathing was even and calm. They remained still long after the tears had dried.

Slowly, the sound of the rain returned.

"Spy," Sniper wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. Spy removed his hand and regarded him. "What would you do, if you were me?"

He considered the question intently, cupping his hands over his crossed knees and leaning back. "I would return to Australia," he said after consideration. "I would visit every place that held bad memories. And I would make better ones."

Sniper swallowed. "You think?"

"Well, I know that a man's body is easy to dispose of once he is dead. But that the memories they leave behind, you cannot dispose of. You can, however, dilute them. Overpower them." Spy smiled at him, and it was the first to genuinely reach his eyes that Sniper had seen. It was warm. "You should never forget the worst things that happen to you, Bushman. Because when you finally accept them, you can do something better; you can show them that you never stopped surviving."

Sniper wondered if that was how he'd dealt with what Gray Mann had done to him.

When Spy offered another smile, he returned it. "Shoulda figured ya were nothing but a big bloody teddybear."

Spy grinned and stood, smoothing down his clothes. "Do try to get some rest, you've earned it."

Sniper watched him leave, heading toward the room where Helene was tending to Medic. He nodded to himself.

That night, when Sniper lay his head on the pillow, he dreamed.

Ricky nowhere to be seen.