Escape attempt 56
“Fig! I don’t like this plan!” James shouted, crouching under the metal table he used for cover as bullets flew over his head. Scarlet butterflies bloomed with every bullet bouncing against the end of the grey concrete hallway, colliding with the wall in front of him.
“This isn’t even the worst part.”
Fantastic. James groaned internally, nimbling reloading the Assault rifle, and steadying his breath to the tick of the clock in his mind. He’d close his eyes to better think through the plan, but the blinding phosphorus white distracted him too much. Fig’s plan was not nearly as simple as James had thought, and required information neither of them possessed.
Luckily, James knew the place that did.
Unluckily, it was also one of the most securely guarded areas he’d ever stepped foot in.
“What even is the C.S.O?!” Ben shouted from across the gap between their two metal tables.“We don’t have a government body like that!”
Guards in full mat black riot gear with assault riffles marched towards them, taking point behind any of the concrete pillars the rather large mess hall had. Underground, the air tasted like dirt and the light felt unnatural. All the crazy circumstances seemed to have broken the part of Ben’s brain that processed logic.
He was shifting behind the table, clutching the revolver James had lent him to his chest. The gun was loaded, but in their whole time trying to escape from the facilities guards he hadn’t shot the thing once. Not that it would’ve done much. With the level of kevlar, those guards had on a revolver would do little more than bruise.
Suffice to say, Ben wasn’t the reason the government security guards hadn’t pounced on them.
The scattered bodies of guards strewn across the cantina were.
Courtesy of James.
Most of them aren’t dead… I think. He had tried to be gentle but it was hard to just knock someone out when they were shooting high-caliber rounds at you. It was harder when you shot back.
Ben growled in indignation and fear, then poked his head up at the retinue of guards. “You’re not even a registered government body! You’re all terrorists and comm- Ahhhh!”
He ducked his head just in time to not get his brains painted across the large cement wall behind them. The giant C.S.O logo was painted on it in white, with an eagle spreading its wings over the words “The Earth is the cradle of humanity, but mankind cannot stay in the cradle forever”. The same eagle was badged on all the uniformed soldiers.
James had known of C.S.O’s existence for some time but always treated it as a suicide Loop. He only figured out its location after breaking into parliament buildings in Cambera. Even then he’d had to take multiple people hostage just for them to spill about the secret “doomsday bunkers” located in every major city that Australia had.
From his limited understanding of the organization, it was the government's shit aliens are coming answer. The whole thing was extremely hush-hush and completely wiped off the internet. It took sixteen Loops just to figure out how to get into the base through a complicated route around sewers adjacent.
“Ben, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” James said over the sound of constant gunfire. “But I’m pretty sure we’re the terrorists.”
“You don’t get a say!” Ben said with a scowl, pointing a finger. “You said we were just going to find a list detailing a bunch of people with superpowers.”
“We still are. You know, you sounded a lot more excited about coming yesterday.”
“We met three hours ago!”
“Ben does have a point.” Fig said, siding with Ben and yet completely missing the point the conspiracy theorist was trying to make.“He’s not helpful.”
We wouldn’t be in a mess like this if you had a better plan. But he didn’t. Fig seemed fairly confident his idea would work and made no effort to understate exactly how difficult it would be. Impossible for James when he was fresh to the Loop. Barely possible for the monster of a man he was now.
Yet what James lacked in efficiency, he made up for in time. Endless time.
He gripped his assault riffle tightly, pushing the but of the gun into his shoulder and clinging his fingers to it so tight no man would be able to pry it away. His mind wrapped around the weapon like his hands, focusing on it and the rounds flying overhead.
Then the steps of the guards approached.
“Put down your weapons!” They shouted.
They were louder now.
“Surrender is still an option!” A guard offered, before being shushed by another.
Closer.
The fear they had of him had been dulled by his recent lack of resistance.
The closer they grew, the longer the gaps between gunfire.
A silence grew in their absence, making the heavy boots all the more easy to hear.
James could hear Ben’s trembling hands fiddling with the revolver, the nervous shifting of the approaching guards, and his own thrumming heartbeat. The anticipation made him feel so alive.
When he felt ready, he pulled the fake flashbang he’d made from his pocket. It was just a small spray paint canister but to these jumpy guards, that was more than enough to scare them stiff.
In one motion he threw it to the right of his cover, between his table and Ben’s, and then shifted to aim over the left side.
Four trigger pulls blossomed the ringing of sweet death in the looper's ear before he vaulted over the table and slid behind the concrete pillar ahead. He felt two nicks on his leg and something just barely clipped his shoulder. The pain barely affected James besides sharpening his focus.
Four heavy thuds soothed his ringing ears, along with the conjoined sounds of shouting and chaos.
For the looper, all of it fell away as his mind did something he doubted any other mind was capable of.
It let go. Let go of consequence, let go of feeling, let go of ego, and gave in to pure focus.
Six to my left, eight to my right.
Mechanically his returned fire slipped between their delays, sending some reeling and putting others down for good. James wasn’t perfect. He didn’t always hit in between their helmets and chest armor. Yet the time it took him to aim, fire, and then take cover was a fraction of what it took the trained security.
Chips of concrete blew past his face as he moved from pillar to pillar, dispatching them all with perfect calm. He felt no goodness about his task. Took no pleasure in the deaths of people who were just paid to do a security gig. There was no glory in it. Only calm, cold murder that left the looper relatively unbothered.
In the pursuit of escaping, he would’ve done far worse.
When the bullets stopped all that was left was twitching bodies and the distant metallic smell of blood. Not all of them were dead, yet. But as James left the safety of his concrete pillar and stepped around the bodies, he was sure all of them were disabled for now.
At least, he was, until a weak hand grasped his ankle. There was no strength in it. James' eyes flickered to the masked and armored owner. His amber eyes were the only thing with any life in them anymore and they gazed at James with hate and desperation.
He stared into the looper's eyes, searching. What purchase did he hope to find?
Mercy?
Pity?
What would a good person feel?
Not what I feel. Which is a whole load of nothing. James tugged his foot away from the man and peered his head down the hallway to the twin corridors. The layout was a whole bunch of guards and weaponry to the left… so right it is.
“Hey, Ben. They’re all dead.”
The youthful bartender poked his head up from the table racked with bullet holes. He looked like a deer caught between headlights in a moment before his face twisted into glee. He threw his hands up in the ear. “We’re not going to die!”
“You weren’t ever in danger of dying,” James said, motioning him to catch up.
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“How?” Ben asked in a doubtful tone.
“I would’ve reset if I thought we were in a situation I couldn’t get us out of. You’re my friend.” James reassured him, patting the bartender on the shoulder when he caught up. “I don’t want to see you cark it if I can avoid it.”
Ben gulped. Loudly. “That’s nice to know, I guess.” He held up his unfired revolver with a shaking hand. “Which way is out?”
“That way.”
“We’re not going that way, are we?”
James smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”
The pair moved through the dull concrete hallways at an efficient but careful pace, James keeping an eye on both the front and the rear while Ben tried his best not to piss himself. To the bartender's credit, he handled high-stress situations fairly well. He hadn’t accidently. The low constant hum of the alarm did well to hide their footsteps.
But it didn’t make them invisible.
Twice they ran into groups of guards and twice Ben went fetal behind the nearest cover while James systematically dispatched them. He ended up taking a bullet to the shoulder which hurt like hell. They marched on, Ben complaining the entire way as they passed by assortments of large empty concrete spaces that had been either evacuated or just weren’t in use yet.
There were shooting ranges as well as barracks too, mixed with what looked like a new-age dojo filled to the brim with melee weapons and…
Is that an alchemy room?
He couldn’t say. It was stocked to the brim with herbs and fauna from just about everywhere. James had an ecologist's phase, and he recognised the wide variety of ingredients immediately. That was among some of the stranger rooms he saw. There was even what appeared to be an underground farm.
But none of that was what James sought.
Then they stumbled across a room with “Admin” written in white. James tried the heavy steel door twice before he heeded the fact that it was locked. The looper half expected that. Most the the doors had been locked.
What he didn’t expect was the strained, shaking warning that emanated from within.
“That’s not you Kalen, is it?” An older man’s voice asked, sounding hopeful.
Then someone deeper inside the room shushed him.
“This is not Kalen,” James admitted, trying to sound as friendly as he could. “All I want is information. Open this door, and we can work something out.”
He heard a grunt as if the older man wanted to reply but again, it was shushed by a calmer voice. Someone who wasn’t scared shitless of him and knew unlocking the door could end badly for them. The looper tried the door with a slam twice more before he relented that it wasn’t going to be opened by his body alone.
Cold hard steel required a more delicate approach.
James put down his gun and dropped his backpack, pulling a sweet delicate surprise from inside.
“Is that a bomb?” Ben asked incredulously. “Oh my god. We’re actually the terrorists.”
“Relax,” James said softly. “It’s a small bomb.”
“Isn’t it a thermite bomb?” Fig queried.
I mean yeah, but Ben doesn’t need to know that. James kept that to himself and stuck the bomb to the door’s lock, arming the explosive. There was shuffling and muttered chatter on the other side of the door, so the looper did what he considered the nice thing and lent them another chance.
“Just so you know, I’m gonna blow up the door, so last chance to-”
There was the sound of struggle behind the door. Not the violent kind. More a bunch of subtle shifting as one party moved against the other. Then the heavy steel door opened with a loud clunk, letting James heave the thing until he could peek through, shifting so he could aim his rifle through the crevice.
His sight crept through until he felt movement. From behind the door, a larger, older gentleman dressed in formal military attempted to grab ahold of James's barrel and aim his pistol toward him. In a quick, precise motion James kicked his legs from under him and butted him with his barrel. The older man yelped and sprawled to the rug, shakily aiming his pistol.
He managed to get a shot off at James and it barely clipped his right ear, turning the ringing into a deafening burn. The looper bit down the pain and returned two shots to the man’s arm, disarming him. To his credit, the older gentleman only made a soft sound of agony. Slowly, the looper pushed open the door further, keeping his gun trained to where he couldn’t see.
There was only one other in the office. A woman. Blonde hair cut short with sharp blue eyes, watching his every movement like a hawk. Not once did she spare a glance at the older gentleman groaning in pain in the middle of the room. Spilling fresh blood onto a very nice-looking rug. James immediately felt she presented more of a threat, despite her smaller stature, keeping his gun trained on her as he felt his damaged ear.
His right ear felt like warm wetness and burning pain.
The slow ring of the alarm and groans from the older man filled what would otherwise be silence as they stared off at each other.
James felt like he would have to speak first and quell the tension, but he was wrong.
Instead, the blonde woman took the initiative. “Mr Groves. Is there any chance, we could come to reasonable terms that would ensure our safety?”
“Do you know this lady?” Fig asked, sounding almost as surprised as James felt.
“You know me?” The looper asked, admittedly a little curious.
Her eyes turned to share a look with the man in pain, mulling something over in her head seemingly, before nodding. “James Matthew Groves, Prospect Spark. No Aspect. No Court. No known Guild affiliations. Source and Class unknown. Chances of successful integration rated at 12.67%”
“Chances of integration?” James questioned.
“If you don’t already know what it means, I’m afraid I can’t tell you.” She said, a slight shake in her voice. Still, it was firm. Almost unwavering. She kept her hands at her side, dressed in formal military attire with the C.S.O. eagle pinned to her shoulder.
She’d already avoided one of his questions. That didn’t bode well. But the fact they know so much about me is probably a good sign. Fig said I’d need at least a hundred names and addresses. He had come here for key information on Sparks surrounding him because Fig’s plan necessitated finding them.
And hunting them down.
Each Spark glows brighter when fueled by another. A horrifying prospect, but one that made a lot of sense considering what he knew about the system.
“Your Source will respond to you devouring Sparks ravenously. We just have to hope it pushes the Loop past the first threshold.” Fig had said when they first discussed his plan.
They were his ticket out of here. James felt like he was sure of it. Right now the only thing standing between him and escape was a beaten-down old man and woman who was slowly but surely succumbing to the fear of imminent death.
“Ben, guard the door.” James directed, inspecting the office and cataloging possible places that the list could be. The computer first, then the files in the cabinet behind it. There was a safe in that cabinet too. Maybe there?
Ben didn’t seem to like the idea of being without James' immediate protection. But he’d seen the looper kill enough people to know he should listen.
“Whoever you’ve affiliated yourself with, I promise you. They won’t be able to protect you from retribution. Do you have any idea the amount of lives you’ve taken today?” The older gentleman coughed out once Ben had left. “The amount of good people you’ve killed?”
Apparently, the numbers advantage made him more confident. He sounded angry. Genuine wrath steamed from his words and his brown hateful eyes. The looper would’ve replied that he didn’t care for threats but the blonde woman beat him to it. She sounded like she was caught between a rock and a hard place as she scolded the older man.
“Major Aven. Now is not the time.” She said simply, trying to silence the old man with a glare.
“What's to say we can bargain with this man, Officer Dupont.” He questioned.
“We can.” Officer Dupont said, sure of herself. Her blue eyes flicked to James, hand balled in fists at her inability to simply put an end to the source of their shared desperation. “You want something, don’t you Groves.”
James nodded. “Names.”
Something tremendously sad happened the moment he said what he wanted from them. Something he found himself sympathizing with. The light of hope Officer Dupont had, the light she saw at the end of the tunnel.
It died.
“That look in her eyes is not promising,” Fig commented. The window's slight reflection showed him sitting on the large desk, watching over the two military personnel like an angel of death.
“What kind of names.” Officer Dupont asked her voice on the verge of cracking.
“You knew me, so I’m going to assume you knew other Prospect Sparks. I need their names.” James clarified.
“I can’t tell you that.” She said. There was no hiding the deep fear behind false confidence anymore.
That’s not what I wanted to hear. James thought, more than a little frustrated. If they wouldn’t give him the information for their safety then that would make things… difficult. The looper didn’t want things to go down the route. There were just very few humane ways he could extract the information if they wouldn’t give it willingly.
Unfortunately or perhaps the opposite, he didn’t get the chance. Officer Dupont had a good head on her shoulders. James knew people well enough to recognise the air of calm confidence and sophistication that befell those of sharp intellect. She saw what he was thinking. The twitch of the looper's trademark placid smile and the slight guilt in his eyes. His shift in presence to a more grim air seemed to confirm her worst fears.
It happened so fast James barely had time to react.
Dupont pulled a pistol that must’ve been strapped to her backside she kept so diligently facing the wall. Then she pulled the trigger twice. Once on the general. Once on herself. It startled James so much he wasn’t sure how to even react. Had she aimed the pistol at him, the looper would’ve just put her down.
But at the distance between them, he couldn’t stop her from killing herself.
In seconds James had lost his two best leads and turned the whole Loop into a dud. At first, he felt shocked at just how quickly things had spiraled out of control. Then he felt bewilderment at just how quickly and efficiently Dupont had taken away his two potential tickets to information. Finally, he was left feeling… Impressed?
She took her own life without a second thought once she was sure that was her best course of action. Not only that, but she ruthlessly eliminated another potential leak in the process. To be so sure of yourself… James felt his respect for the stranger go up a few notches. Even the looper wasn’t so sure he could end his own life that mercilessly if he didn’t have the Loop to back him up.
“James! I don’t know what that shooting was about but more security is coming. If you’ve got a plan to escape, now is the time to tell me!” Ben shouted from the other side of the heavy metal doomsday door.
“An escape plan,” James mumbled to himself, sighing in annoyance at the lack of answers. He’d need to come back here and get the list. How many Loops would that take? How many Loops would it take to hunt down all those Sparks afterward? Always more Loops. Always more problems.
Why couldn’t there just be a door out of this shitty place?
He didn’t bother to answer Ben’s question.
The looper only needed one escape plan.
He made a candid effort to search through the file cabinet and computer in the limited time he had left, but once that proved fruitless because he simply lacked the time to investigate in any meaningful way, James accepted the reality of the situation.
With a snort, James put the barrel of his rifle to the back of his throat and pulled the trigger. Metallic fire burst out the back of his head.
Then the world went dark.