The Three Go Marching On: Operation Prometheus Part III

Operation Prometheus. August 26, 2084. Local Time: 1:30 AM. Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Status: [REDACTED]

A cloud of white smoke billows up from the road below, engulfing the enemy patrol. I begin ushering the team back down the other side of the hill, scrambling through the undergrowth of the forest. As we tumble down, I collide with a branch. My NODs go askew. In the dark, I fumble to get them aligned again. 

"Duck, duck, duck!" Kelly hisses, tackling me to the floor. This time, the NODs are knocked entirely off of my helmet. "Crap." The entire world is pitch-black now. I poke and prod around the undergrowth, but to no avail. I've lost the ability to see. A gunshot rings out.

"Identify yourself!" A voice booms from the service road. No doubt the leader of the enemy patrol. "The use of lethal force has been authorized! Surrender yourselves immediately!" Thinking quickly, there's two ways this can go: either they search the area themselves (unlikely, they just don't have the manpower to do that effectively in a short timeframe), or they fire upon us immediately. 

"Final warning! Surrender now!" The patrol leader yells again, as laser sights streak through the forest above our heads. Thinking quickly, I fumble around in the soil until I find a branch. Trying my best to stay low, I sling the branch up above me. I hear an audible rustling as the branch lands in a bush some distance up the hill. Instantly, the laser sights swing over to the bush. The soldiers unleash a blaze of gunfire, lighting up the forest.

"Move!" I growl, taking advantage of their distraction to continue moving through the forest. We push through the vegetation, keen to distance ourselves from the threat. Still frustrated by my lack of vision, I try and get a little closer to the access road. It is illuminated, but poorly. In contrast, the facility and runway dominate the landscape as they illuminate the rest of the valley. The access road up ahead is more or less clear. Good thing. I don't want to expose myself entirely though, so I make sure to stay a few yards away from the road itself, utilizing the brush to stay somewhat concealed. 

"Uplink's on that hill," Boyd gestures some ways down the road, to a tower illuminated by blinking red lights. 

"So, what's the play here?" I ask myself, reviewing the game plan. 

"Overlord wants the plane at all costs. Piece of junk from the 1970s, and we'll probably never know what he wants it for." Kelly says. "All Overlord wanted to tell us was that the Williamsbougians picked this thing up from some desert before they moved it back here. Lord knows what they want it for." I ponder that for a minute again. Why does Overlord want this thing? You think of a guy like Overlord, he does some weird stuff. He's honestly kind of unhinged. But he doesn't do things without a purpose. So if Overlord wants this thing, its got to have some kind of purpose. Or, this is going to be one of those missions that comes from the higher-ups. Those tend to be less useful. We're still seething over the fact that we lost two of our men in a firefight over some Akkadian Statue in Damascus. 

"You think this is coming from them? Or is this an Overlord thing?" I ask the crew. 

"You know, I don't think its either Overlord or the higher-ups. It might be Provost." Boyd explains to us. "Overlord doesn't seem to give a damn about this mission. Did you see him in the briefing? He was yawning, wandering out of the room randomly, basically doing anything and everything to avoid giving us the information we needed. But Provost seemed personally invested. She was the jumpmaster for this operation. I know she has the background for it, what with her service during the Dreamistan War, but for a desk jockey, that's a very front-line assignment."

"So, why does Provost want this thing?"

"You tell me, boss. You tell me."