Report One: ******* Incident

Title: 'Shimmer incident'
Date: 4/4/'45
Location: Bunker ****, *****, Egypt
In charge of the investigation: Bradley, James, OF-6
Offender: Metzger, Kelly, OF-2

Summary: Captain Metzger details coming into contact with Target Omega for the first time.

Video Recording: Open? [Yes] - No

*Door opens*

"Jeez, Spit's, you look like hell," The brigader stifles back a chuckle, as Kelly rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, Bradley, what else is new?" She rolled her eyes again, but this time in a joking manner.

"Well, if you got nothing else, we might as well get started."

"What's top brass want with me this time?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Posterity, and all of that," He grumbled, setting down his coffee, and pulled out his notepad, "Brass at London want's a writeup on how you found Target O-"

"Shimmer."

"I'm sorry?" He raised his own eyebrow in response.

"Target Omega makes it sound like she walked out of one of The Colonies' black sites," she grumbled, "I feel like Shimmer is more appropriate, or at least Shoichet, if that's what's she's calling herself now."

"We can't." The brigader grumbled, obviously also unhappy with this development, "Brass doesn't want any of her aliases on record. We only are allowed the paper copies she mailed to you. In fact, I'm going to have to find a way to bleep that out of the video."

"Damnit," She swore, "Fine, let's call her Omega , I guess."

"Good stuff, good stuff," Bradley said, "Now, let's start."

"Where do you want to begin?" She raised an eyebrow.

"How about at the start of your deployment into Africa?"

"Sure, that works for me..."

"Alright, good stuff," Bradley said, shuffling a few more papers, "We just need you to say your name to start it off..."

As I'm sure you already know, I'm Kelly, Kelly Metzger. Most of my peers had nicknamed me Spitfire*. I was one of the MI6 agents assigned to the Western Desert Force in Africa during the end of Operation Brevity and the beginning of Operation Crusader when we went to relieve the Australians at Tobruk.

And can you ease us into the day you met Target Omega?

Yeah, remember it clearly. It was the middle of June, during our final push towards Tobruk...

SSSSNNNNNOOOORRRREEEE

"...etzger!"

SSSSSNNNNNOOOORRRRREEE

"...Metzger!"

SSSSNNNNNNOOOOORRRREEEE

"...h, god damnit,"

That day, I woke up on the floor

*Thud*

"Fuck, damnit! What the hell was that for, Brittney!?" Kelly swore, nursing the wound on her head, "I was having a decent dream about a lad in Ireland, you know?"

"Well, sooorrryyy, lieutenant," Brittney jokingly sneered, pulling her up, "The commander wants to see you, something about 'those damn suits from London' and all of that." She grinned.

"Oh, yeah, I miss my designer suits and cocktails and large extravagant parties where I can seduce men into stealing their keycards and preventing the end of the world." I shot back with my own cocky grin. I pulled myself up from the dirt floor and dusted myself off. "Well, better not keep him waiting."

"I'll go check on Matt. Last I saw of him he was in a drinking game with some men from the Free French." She gave me a two-finger salute and left through my tent flap. I put on my uniform, and grabbed my pistol holster and radio pack, before making my way outside.

The scene was akin to a small city. It was understandable, seeing as how in just under a week, we were supposed to go and help relieve the 9th Infantry in Tobruk. There was a bustle as men moved cargo from the rear to the frontlines, armored re-armed, and prepared their gear. Making my way to the commanding tent, the inside was a madhouse as women dashed back and forth through the tent, relaying orders and intercepting german comms. I skillfully moved my way through the sea of comm reports and interceptions and made my way to the backroom, where Commander Ritchie was signing off on a call with Montogomery.

"..no, you listen to me, Monty!" He shouted. "I have 6 separate Corps here ready to take back the port, I will NOT have them lose their lives just because you won't hand me some Spitfires from your bloody cat-and-mouse game with Rommel!"

The man on the other side shouted back with the same force as the commander had done. "Don't you hang up on me you-FUCK!" He slammed the phone down on the receiver, then poured himself a shot glass, before acknowledging that I was standing right there. "Ah, Lieutenant Metzerg; please, sit." he beckoned me to the chair in front of him, which I accepted.

"So, problems with the other commanders?" I asked, pouring myself a glass.

"Yeah." He muttered, taking another shot. "Montgomery has control of the majority of air support in the region. I was hoping to take some of them to help us at Tobruk, but he's holding them from me. Said he needs them to chase down that damned Desert Fox." Another swig. "Bloody arse."

"Hah, don't I know that feeling." I laughed. When you were a commander, you often butted heads with the other commanders about who got the supplies first.

"But enough with that old geezer. I need to talk to you." His voice deepened by a few octaves, and the air around the room grew a bit thicker.

I swallowed, "Sir, you know I can't tell you what our mission here entails."

He growled, "I damn well should. I will not risk my men's lives just because some hot-shot from London and her best friends just flew in and shoved some papers in my face."

I sighed, "Sir, in the name of national security, I cannot speak about my mission to anyone outside my teammates."

He glared at me, "If you don't tell me now, I will send your ass back to London, top brass be damned!"

I sighed, realizing he wasn't about to let me off so easily and began to explain our mission to him.

"...and what was your mission, Captain?" Bradley asked me.

I raised an eyebrow, "Don't you have the file?"

"Yeah. but, again, posterity."

I sighed. "Three weeks before we went to Africa, London detected a radio wave coming from the middle of the Savannah. We had originally written it off as someone tinkering with a radio in the middle of the place, but then it happened again, and again, and again.

It was the exact same always, one short burst at midnight exactly, then we'd detect an incoming radio wave. After that, a longer burst, and finally a burst of finality. We deduced that someone was communicating with someone else in the Savannah, and the fact that it happened at exact midnight, every day, in the same format, was no coincidence.

Now, we couldn't spare any troops to check it out themselves, they were all needed to take Tobruk and attack the Germans, so we were sent instead. We were supposed to land at the forward base, then requisition some trucks and supplies to drive the three hundred kilometers stretch between the messenger and the forward base."

"So, what the hell is even in those radio waves?" The commander asked me, rubbing his head.

I shrugged. "Hell if I know. We just detected static every time we'd try and tune into the frequency."

"Then why in god's name is it national security for you to find it?!"

"Because it's not the frequency of the Germans or Italians, and civilians shouldn't be able to buy a radio that can tune to a frequency as high as ours anywhere in the world."

He groaned, "Fine. Tobruk is on a mountain, so our trucks are kinda useless on the steep and rugged terrain. I probably have some spare trucks I gave give to you guys,"

I smiled, "Thank you, Commander."

He waved me off, "Nah, it's alright. I'll get you the trucks within the hour. It's only like a day and a half of driving to get to where you need to go, so I expect you back here before the end of the week so we can move on Tobruk."

I saluted him, "Yes sir!"

"Dismissed."

I went outside and found the rest of my team milling about near the mortar crates. We were a team of four, dubbed the 'WonderBolts' for our ability to move in and out at high speeds and with fatal precision. Besides me, we had Brittney 'Lighting*' Irvin and Matt 'Soarin*' Hill. Beside them was our scientific liaison, Kelly 'Starlight*' Sheridan.

"Alright Team," I called out, chucking Starlight the rest of the bottle from the Commander's office. "Get prepped, we've wheels up within the hour."

"You finally told the General our job here?" Soarin raised an eyebrow, while he cleaned the barrel of his MG-42 he stole from a compound in Sweden.

"Yeah," I sighed, rubbing my eyes, "He wouldn't give us the trucks unless I did so."

Starlight tsked, "Command won't like that. Their specific orders were we weren't supposed to tell anyone here what our job is."

"Eh, they can whine for all they want." I rolled my eyes, and began cleaning my 1911, "Still won't change the fact that he wasn't going to budge without me telling him."

After about 15 minutes, two armored sticks rolled up in some Willy MB's. "Just got back from leave in Cairo," One of them explained, "We were supposed to store the jeeps here, but the General told us you needed some, and we might as well give them to you." He and the rest of the crew exited the vehicle, before motioning me over to the back, then pulling up a tarp covering the back. "You can have two and two per car, and we packed them with about 3 times the daily rations in gasoline and foodstuffs."

"Thanks for that," I nodded to the officer, who saluted me before ordering his men to the barracks. "Come on, let's go guys. Starlight, go with Soarin in the other car. Lightning, you're with me." We piled into the cars, and we were off.

...and when did you arrive at your AO?"

"About three days after we left," Kelly shrugged, "Turns out, the maps were outdated, and we ended up taking a longer route around a river that was several kilometers short of where we were."

"That, however, was what led to you finding Target Omega though, was it not?" the brigader asked.

"Yeah," Kelly sighed, "Yeah it was..."

"Shit, it's already nightfall." Starlight swore.

"Well, it's either this," Kelly said, picking up her flashlight, "Or we'd have to find a way across a 15 meter deep, 40-meter wide river."

"Fucking Mother Nature," Lightning swore. She was on overwatch right now, watching the savannah lands with a precision eye for any signs of movement.

"In any case, we should probably find shelter," Soarin said, mounting his gun on the truck, "I don't want to be out here when those cannibal hunter's find us napping."

"Shit, you actually believe about those bozos?" Starlight raised her eyebrow.

He shrugged, "Don't want to take the risk if they do."

"I agree with Soarin," Kelly said, waving them over to where she was, "Look, found a cave, we might as well make camp there." She shone her flashlight on a small cave, about 100 meters to the left. They nodded and went to move the trucks. When they got to the cave, however, Lightning stopped them.

"Lightning, what are we doing?" Kelly asked, getting out of her truck.

"Look, footprints," She said, shining a light on tracks going into the cave.

"Aw crud, no exit marks," Starlight muttered, "Whoever set up shop here is still in there."

"Alright," Kelly said, drawing her pistol, "Soarin, with me. Lightning, Starlight, watch the trucks." They nodded, and Soarin drew his CQC gun, a trench shotgun that his father gave him.

"I'll take point," He said. Kelly nodded, and they both entered the cave.

For a makeshift camp, it was well equipped. There was a small disassembly bed and storage chest on one end, easily mobile if someone needed to run. On the other end, there was a study, with a map detailing the next couple hundred miles with landmarks and backup shelters marked on it. To prevent getting dirty, the floor was covered with hay and a tarp. There was also a bow and a quiver of arrows that was set off to one side.

Kelly was about to call Soarin over when he put his hand over her mouth. She began to protest, but he put his left fist on his right palm, then put up one finger. One person, unknown figure. He pointed to the back of the cave, and Kelly saw her.

It was a girl, about 20 years old in stature, with red and orange hair. She was disheveled, with dust and grime all over her figure. Her clothes looked sewn together, and it was just then that Kelly saw a dried blood patch on her shoulder. She was quietly sobbing, and she looked like she was hunched over a journal of some kind.

Nodding, Kelly made my way over to her. Conditions aside, She wasn't going to take the risk that she was a German scout.

She turned around, and Kelly pointed her gun at her head, "Oi, who the fuck are you?"

Author's Note

*To this day, it is still unknown of the origins of these nicknames for the 'WonderBolts'. In recent interviews, it is found that Target Omega has been given the origin stories, but refuses to reveal them to us, only giving a smirk the interviewer called 'Try Me'.