Splinter Cell: Target Lost

Harper had the strangest dream...

"Hastings, you still there?  Hastings?" Harper asked, feeling alone again.

"Harper, you don't have to check the TACCOM every five minutes, ya know."

"Sorry," Harper apologized. "Just making sure nothing has happened to you."

"Stop worrying and focus.  You're the one in danger if your nerves are constantly on high alert."

Harper nodded but then realized how stupid that was.

"I understand," he said calmly .

"Good.  Target in 30 meters.  Five guards.  Four patrolling, one in the tower."

"I'll go left.  There's a vent I can use to take 'em by surprise." Harper said.

"I'll go right.  There's a gap in the patrol there."

Harper checked the signs again and saw what he meant. "Right, right."

They split to each side.  While he was in the vent, Harper heard the two guards on the right fall dead one after another.

"Marking system, good to go.  You ready?"

Harper flipped down his googles and used the 3D radar system to spot the remaining targets.  He marked the three remaining guards.  The two on the ground were out of his range, but well within Hastings' range.  "Guards marked.  Take 'em out."

Three silenced shots popped the three in the head.

"Move in on target.  10 meters."

They walked to the door and Hastings kicked it open.  The man behind the desk, who was inside the room, jumped up.

"What the--"

He had no time to speak.  Hastings grabbed his throat, grasping onto his trachea.  Any sudden movement would force a lack of oxygen and a cause for the target to black out.

"Tell us what you know about the bioware you've been giving to your soldiers.  Leave anything out, and I will not hesitate to beat it out of you."

"You're not getting anything out of me... you pathetic... bastard..."

That was not the answer he was looking for.  Hastings pulled the target over to his desk and smashed his head against it.  Blood spattered on the desk, but the man was still conscious.  Hastings put him back in the chokehold.

"You were saying?"

"The bioware was developed by a company called the Kellner Corporation.  We've been working with them for years.  That's all I know!"

"Not convinced.  Harper, would you please close the door?"

"On it."

Harper shut the door, only to have the target get kicked at it, staining the three-inch glass with blood and spit.  Hastings picked him up again.

"All right, all right!  The Kellner Corporation has ties to the mafia... they just sent a shipment of new tech to them yesterday... they plan to attack the US embassy to get to Senator Ryan..."

"That's all I needed to know," Hasting replied simply.

"I told you everything... everything!  Please, let me go!  You won't hear from me ever again!  It'll be like I never existed!"

Hastings looked to Harper, waiting for his call on the situation, but before Harper could say anything, the captive smacked down the arm that held had him in the chokehold and reversed the situation, trapping Hastings in a hold of his own.  He pulled out a concealed gun and pointed it at Hasting's head.

"You make one move and he dies!" the target shouted.  Harper didn't know what to do.  His worst nightmare was coming true right before his very eyes...

He reached for his gun, and then...

And then...

A single teardrop fell from his eye.

"I see."

The dream paused as Harper turned to the origin of the voice.  It was a dark blue pony, with wings and a horn.

"Oh, great, they're in my dreams, too..." he said sarcastically.

"I am only here to help with the pain, human," the pony said.

"Who are you?" Harper asked.

"I am Luna, the protector of the night and the destroyer of nightmares."

Destroyer of Nightmares? he thought.

"Yes, that's right."

"And reader of minds?" he asked, annoyed.

"When I am in your mind, anything you think I can hear."

"Great," Harper replied, adding this to the long list of things he hated to have happen. Number 249: Dreaming about talking ponies who read minds.  Right between "taking care of the cactus plants at mom's" and "not getting obvious references".

"What do you want with me?" Harper asked, annoyed that he hadn't woken up from the lucid dream.

"I want nothing more than to help you, human.  I know you have caused some ponies problems, but we are working them out.  I come bearing signs of peace."

"Surely you must be joking."

"I assure you, human, I couldn't be more serious unless I used the Canterlot royal speech."

"I don't care.  This is just some dream.  Your're not real!  None of this is real!"

"Really?  Then I will show you when you wake up how that cannot be so, as I will be sitting by your beside, watching you awake."

"Creepy.  Anyway, if this is all so real, why are you helping me?"

"Because that is what friends do, Harper."

"How'd you know my-- Wait, you're looking into my memory now?"

"Wasn't I doing just that before now?"

"Yeah, and you should stop invading my mind!  What kind of 'friend' does that???"

"All I am here to do is help."

"As if I needed your help."

"You cannot bottle up false feelings!  You know what happened there wasn't your fault!"

A gunshot range out in, and Harper watched his comrade fall.  Watched as he held him in his hands, writhing.  Watched as life slipped away from him.

"I'm curious as to what you did next, human." Luna said.

"If you're just some figment of my imagination, I guess it doesn't matter anyway." Harper said.

Rage filled his eyes.  The marker system flickered on his HUD.  His mental status was making the system, which was connected up to his brain, go haywire.  He walked up, knocked the gun away from the man, and finally put an end to his life.

But it wasn't enough.  It was never enough to sate his anger.

"Harper!  Harper!  What's going on down there?  We just lost you for a second!  Where's Hastings?"

"He's dead."

"Oh my god...  Harper, your vitals ain't lookin' good from here.  High blood pressure and heartbeat over 200 bpm... You need to calm down.  Take a breather.  Hastings is dead, but that does not mean you have to be like this."

Harper knew that wasn't happening. "Where is the bioware?"

"In the nearest storage garage.  What are you planning?"

Harper opened the garage and ripped the top off of one of the crates inside.

"I'm retrieving one of these for you to take a look at.  As for the rest..."

"Harper, no!  Don't destroy all of them!  Even if you save just one, what if it's broken?  Harper!  Don't do it!"

But the C4 was already in place.  Harper walked ten paces away and hid behind a wall fragment.  He took out the detonator.

"Boom."

He clicked the button and the garage exploded, pieces of metal and wire flying everywhere.

"Dammit, Harper!  You had better hope that bioware is in working condition!"

"And you had better stop telling me what to do!  You techies will figure out what his stuff is, no matter how broken it may be.  Also, I might be a little late on retrieval.  I need to go get Hastings."

"You're crazy.  If you get spotted, then this whole mission wil go straight to he--"

"It already has gone to hell!  Just bring a chopper in and I'll get Hastings to a place for a proper burial."

The communications officer sighed. "Chopper in ten."

"Make it five," he growled back.

He spotted the guards as they kicked open the doors to the storage area.  Harper didn't care about them anymore, didn't care about what lives they had.

He put those pitiful lives to an end.  He had targeted all of them, marking each and shooting them in the head.  More rushed in, but Harper's marking system didn't need to reset.  He simply kept marking and shooting, killing dozens.  Finally, the TACCOM went online and open.

"All right, Harper!  The copter's just outside!  Get going!"

"Got it."

He went over to Hastings' dead body and picked it up.  He slung it over his shoulder and carried him out.

"I made it out alive.  Hastings did not.  The one person who was always one step ahead, always that much better than I was, always outsmarting the enemy in every situation... dies by the hand of a god damned target!"

Luna was silent.  Harper was breathing heavily, even though it was just his dream.

"It's my fault!  It's all my fault!  He died because I was too weak!  I didn't save him!"

"It's not your fault," Luna said, pressing through his memories to find proof.

"It is all my fault!  I didn't do anything!"

"That's not true--"

"Then all I did was avenge his death, nothing more!  He could be alive right now!  Had he not died, none of this would've happened!  He would've killed O'Malley!  He would've ended it right then and there!"

Images surrounded him as he spoke.  Images of Hastings, images of the dead, and images of hate, revenge, disgust, and last but not least, sorrow.

"I can see how close you two were.  You were friends since you joined this 'Third Echelon'.  While what you did was unforgivable, you hardly had a choice, did you?"

"I was sent to Third after a falling out in Afganistan.  Hastings and I had gained much intel on the subject we were tracking there... far too much.  The government didn't like it.  They pulled us out of the place and put us in jail.  We spent the night in cold cells, which was neither the first time nor the last we would be there.  The next day, we were given a choice: join Third Echelon or die.  We chose the former, joining the recruits in training a week later than we should've.  We had to keep gaining ranks, as we had to do better, we had to be greater.  Eventually, nobody could touch us anymore, and we deleted all files on our jailing for the information we received.  From then on out, there was nothing to stop us.  However, we had ingrained ourselves in Third so much that we began to lose control of the targets we sought, and we no longer had a choice on whether the mission, 'should you choose to accept it', was a go."

"I understand this, but what is the place, Afganistan?" Luna asked.

"I don't want to talk about it.  I saw too many horrible things there," Harper replied. Nothing but darkness surrounded him.  He refused to think about it, even if it didn't matter.

"I see."

"No, no you don't.  Tell me, have you ever seen an all-out war?"

"No, I suppose not as you would see one, human."

"Then you have no idea what I had to go through.  I've told you enough already. Now, how the hell do I get out of this dream?"

He thought for a moment.  The only way anybody woke up from a dream is if something very fatal were to happen to them in the dream.  That's how he always saw it.

"I would suggest against that, human."

"How did-- wait, I already know.  Why shouldn't I?"

"If you die here, you will die in real life as well.  I am in control of your dream state right now, and I decide when it ends."

"Unless you're not real.  How would one go about testing that, though?"

"Human, you are thinking down the wrong lines.  I want to show you how what you think you have done is not what you have done.  You have misconceptions on the matter."

"How?"

"I don't know you well enough to find proof, but I know you are wrong."

"Yeah?  Well, when you actually find some evidence, you let me know.  As for now, you will let me out of this lucid dream."

"As you wish, human.  I shall inform you at a moment's notice.  That way, you won't have to wait for your answer."

The dream world faded and Harper woke up.  He looked around quickly.  No creepy dark-blue ponies anywhere in sight.  It really was just a dream, nothing more.  He sighed in relief.  However, he did not see the shimmering tail of stars as it disappeared through the exit nearby.

***

O'Malley poked a stick at his makeshift fire.  It was almost time.  Dawn would be upon this place in only a few hours.  Or, it seemed like that at least, as the sun had refused to rise despite how the sky was lit at the moment.  He knew that morning was the only time his plan would work.  If it was any other time of the day, he might need to save some extra explosives.  Not that it mattered.  He wasn't going to go in with weapons, anyway.

He tossed a frag in his hand, up and down.  In his other hand was a ripe apple he had picked.  He took a huge bite out of it and his tongue told him the apple was far too sweet for his tastes.  He tossed it aside, munching on what he had and swallowing it with a disgusted look on his face.  Finally, the sun appeared in the East, rising quite quickly.  He caught the frag and gripped it tightly.  The time was at hand.

He stamped out the fire, letting the embers settle as he walked forward into Ponyille.  The grenade was just to catch their attention.  What would really be the kicker was the bomb strapped around his chest.  He clicked a button on it and a  counter ticked down from five minutes.  He pulled the pin on the grenade and threw it into the air.

It exploded with a loud noise, and he heard the shrieks of the ponies.  He ran to the middle of town, feigning a look of fear on his face.

"SOMEONE HELP!  HELP ME!" he cried.  Ponies rushed out of houses everywhere to see what was the matter.

"A human?  What the heck?"

"What is that?  Some kind of device on its body?"

"Why does it need help?"

O'Malley snatched up the nearest pony.  "Please! Please, you have to help me!  There's a bomb strapped to me, and I cannot get it off!"

The pony nodded, but also sweat profusely due to how scared it was.

"Somebody get the Princess!  She'll know what to do!"

Twilight ran onto the scene. "What's going on here?!"

"He's got a bomb strapped to him!"

The timer ticked down.  3:56... 3:55...

"Please, you have to help me!  Those other humans captured me and put this bomb on me, and I can't stop it!"

"Well, can we just cut it off?" the purple pony asked, raising a pair of scissors up.

"NO!" O'Malley shouted. "No, you can't!  If you try to cut it off, the bomb will explode immediately!"

3:01... 3:00...

"Well then what do we do?"

"You have to defuse it!  You have to find a way to shut it off without it exploding!  Please, my life is at stake here!"

"All right, all right!  I'll... I'll see what I can do!"

"Please hurry..."

Twilight looked at the bomb closely.  The timer ticked down to 2:34, 2:33...

"I need more time to figure this out!  I've never even seen something like this!"

"Can't you try?  Please?"

"What does it run on?"

O'Malley almost was baffled by these ponies, and the look of fear turned to disbelief for a second.  He snapped out of it after a second or two.

1:55... 1:54...

"Electricity!"

"Well, that doesn't help... um... Wait!  I have an idea! So long as that bomb isn't a part of you, then-- yeah, this will work!"

Her horn glowed for a second and O'Malley disappeared, the bomb jacket falling to the ground.  He reappeared about five feet away.

"Quick!  You have to get rid of it before it explodes!"  he shouted.  Twilight teleported the jacket far away.  There was a short burst of an  explosion from somewhere far off in the woods.

"Thank god that's over," he lied through his teeth.  He could've defused that bomb quicker than she had gotten rid of it.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I-I'm feeling better now that that thing is gone."

"What happened to you?"

"It's like I said.  Those other humans attacked me!  They strapped me in that thing and left me to die!"

"Wait... you mean there are more?!" Twilight shouted, eyes wide. "First it was just one, now there seems like so many..."

"Wait, you've seen one of the others?  What did that one look like?"

"Well, he had this dark black suit and some goggles and a really big knife..."

"That's the one!" he shouted. "That's the one who put that thing on me!  He laughed as he did it, too!"

"Holy Luna... and he said there were others that were out for blood, but now I see he meant the rest of his group."

"He must've!  I-I-I wouldn't hurt a soul!" O'Malley lied again.

"How terrible that he would do this to innocents!" Twilight exclaimed. "We have to find him and stop him!  If this happens to one of us--"

"Look, don't worry.  As soon as they put that thing on me, I heard one say they were going to go hunting for food, particularly rabbits.  I, myself, would never turn to such options!  I'm a vegetarian!  Anyway, they shouldn't bother you for a while here.  You should keep this place safe by putting up a wall or something!"

"I can put up a magical barrier around the town.  It'll cost me a lot of my magic, though..."

Magic? O'Malley thought. What nonsense is this?  There's no such thing as magic!  Then again, she did teleport objects with her mind... Perhaps these ponies have mastered mind over matter.  Sounds magical enough to me, I suppose.

On the outside, he simply nodded and said, "Yes, that would work."

"All right, here we go..."

Her horn glowed as she held a giant barrier spell over the city.  It shimmered as if it would disappear, but did not.

"There.  I'll have to renew it every few hours or so, but that will last us for now."

"Good," he said, getting to his feet.

"I didn't catch your, name sir.  You are a 'sir', right?"

"Yes, I would be male.  My name is Byron.  Byron O'Malley."

"By-Run Oh Mally? What a strange name.  Can I just call you By-Run?" Twilight asked.

"Of course you can.  That's usually all I'm called, anyway.  And your name is...?"

"Twilight.  Twilight Sparkle."

The conversation went on, as O'Malley planned his next move in his head.  Should he attack?  Maybe he should just hide out?  Perhaps he should just find a way back to Earth.  He went with the last one.  Getting back to business would probably be good.

Yet, he felt like he wanted more.  This world a had a lot to offer: power, safety, ponies... he especially liked the pony part.  He always ran with them in his dreams, trampling everybody unlucky enough to 1) be in the dream and 2) be in the way.  And that was when he was just having a decent dream!  Oh, the things that they would kill together in the good dreams...

No, no, no!  Stop thinking that!  If they can read minds, then that is the last thing you want to think about!  Just stay calm for now!  We'll save... THAT for later.

He nodded to himself, and Twilight noticed.

"So you agree that the photosynthesis cycle of a plant could be indirectly affected by the amount of ponies in the direct vicinity?" Twilight asked.

"Of course, " he replied absentmindedly. "You wouldn't happen to know any good restaurants around here, would you?  I'm starving... haven't had anything to eat in two days!"

"Of course I know some good places.  Here, follow me!"

And so the pieces fell into place.  Byron O'Malley, friend of the ponies, and the sad Fourth Echelon operatives, now public enemy number one.  Nothing could stop a madman and his ambitions...

***

"Charlie, how are things going?  Made any progress on that teleporter?"

The voice of Sam Fischer called out to him, louder and clearer than on any COM channel.

"Not yet... still working out how the whole thing works," Charlie called back calmly.

"Well, you had better figure it out.  The president isn't gonna be happy if she hears that one of the most wanted criminals is still 'missing'.  We need to find him, quick as we can."

"Yeah, I know."

"Then do your job!  And for god's sake, stop looking into top secret info!  It's not for you!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Charlie said, opening up the files of yet another alien species covered up by the U.S. government.  He got bored of it quickly, as he did with many things, and started looking through the Operative files again.  He did a little bit of digging in Harper's file.

Suddenly, he was far more interesting in reading what was in front of him.

Communications Officer: Brigand Hope

Comm Detail Records #7748

Dec 23, 2013

Agent Harper has gone off the comm array again.  He keeps shutting it off, despite what the chief officer has threatened him with if he 'catches him doing it again', telling Harper that he'll 'give ya what's coming to ya'.  None of those in communications care much anymore; it's his only way to vent his anger and pay his respects now and again.  He used to keep the comm array online at all times, always making sure he stayed in contact with those he needed to... that is, until after the Landings Operation where operative George Hastings was killed.  Hastings had always told him that the TACCOM was useless, and that he should know what to do based on pure instinct.  However, since they were partners, Hastings always kept his TACCOM on in case of an emergency when they split up.  Now that Harper doesn't have a partner, he hardly ever uses the TACCOM unless he wants more info on what he's seeing.  I don't blame him.  There's hardly anything we need to tell him that he doesn't notice, so I guess Hastings was right after all.

It's been a long time since then, but even so, he shuts himself off now and again, just so that he can feel like it's just him and Hastings all over again...

I recommend sending this over to the chief medical officer for prescriptions to help keep this man sane.  He's one of the best, and losing him now would be--

"Boo."

Charlie jumped a foot in the air when he heard Briggs' voice.

"Briggs!  I didn't see you there!  I was just--"

"Sam ain't gonna be happy if he finds you diggin' up old bones, Charlie.  Maybe you should get back to the doghouse and start working your tail off to get Harper back."

"Y-Yes, sir.  On it, sir."

Charlie closed out the files and started looking over the schematics of the teleporter.  He still couldn't make sense of them, but by god, he'd have to if he wanted Sam not to kill him.

And so the computer specialist as left to his screen and keyboard, tapping away...