Don't Tell Motel.
Agent Smith stood beside agents Doe and O'Doyle as the later moved between stations receiving field updates from the various teams around them. Radios sound off even as field agents came and went after delivering physical reports. One such report had the agency worried though as Smith noted the frown on O'Doyle's face.
"What is it?"
"Medical reports from the medical tent." O'Doyle said as he continued to scan the reports.
"How bad is it?" Smith asked, not even bothering to hope it was good.
O'Doyle sighed and handed over the reports so Smith could see for himself while O'Doyle explained.
"Bad. The hospital and the medical tent are packed. Even though we're making progress in getting people cleared with vaccinations and whatever other medical cocktails we can safely pump into them. It's looking like loss of life will still be an inevitability."
Smith got a grim look on his face as he saw the estimate. If the report was being optimistic, doubtful given their line of work, than it was looking like some forty percent of the newcomers will die from disease and exposure to the environment. Again, that's the optimistic percentage. He got a pit in his stomach as he saw the "realistic" percentage.
"Alot of them are going to die." Smith declared grimly.
The room was already pretty bleak given their jobs, but being told that thousands of lives were going to end regardless of what they did was still a punch to morale. Not like they weren't used to situations like this, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow, Smith thought as he handed back the reports.
"Anyway we can push for that lower number?" Smith asked.
"Doubtful. We're already straining agency resources, and that's after siphoning a bit from all over. Even with procuring the Duval's lumber we're not optimistic." O'Doyle declared.
Smith sighed.
"That's the nature of the job I suppose."
"Doesn't mean we have to like it." O'Doyle said.
"No. It doesn't. But until we have something better than that's what's being served for lunch."
The other agents nodded grimly before returning to their work. Leaving O'Doyle, Smith, and Doe to stand in silence. Smith turned his head as the door opened to reveal Dr. Obermann with a rather annoyed look on his face. Though Smith was sure that was just how he always looked.
"Agent Smith, I've waited long enough! The more we wait the further away the creature gets! Me and my team are packed and ready to move out. We'll-"
"Not be going anywhere Doctor." Smith declared.
"What do you mean?! I was assigned-"
"To give your advice on dealing with interactions with APL-1, the spawn, and the anomalies in the area."
"And that is what I am doing! Or trying to if you didn't have your hand around my throat!" Dr. Obermann said with a disgusted sneer.
"I'm sorry you feel that was Herr Doktor. But last I checked there was a good reason we keep you on a short leash."
"Which is-"
"With the permission and approval of Magister Grimsby." Smith interrupted again, earning a seething glare from Obermann.
"Resources are thin as is. As much as the agency is interested in keeping an eye on the spawn we simply don't have the resources at the moment. Which means that YOU are going to remain here until said resources are freed up." Smith clarified further, earning a derisive snort along with the glare.
Dr. Obermann's black gloves creaked against his cane as he continued to glare at Smith, as if doing so would somehow cause him to spontaneously combust and leave him free. Fortunately, no such fate occurred and Obermann merely cocked his head.
"Then what is it I CAN do?"
"You can start by collecting data from the area where the recent anomaly occurred." Smith started before Obermann reached into his coat and produced a rather thin looking vanilla folder and tossed it onto a nearby table.
"Already done. I've had to do SOMETHING since it seems by own colleagues are intent on handicapping me."
"Good. What are your findings?" Smith asked as he picked up the report and flipped through the couple of papers within.
"Nothing."
"What?"
"Nothing. There are residual traces that hint at a possible source or focus but it is far too degraded to be anything more than guess work. What little me and my team were able to piece together hint that it was something powerful but nothing more."
"So that narrows it down to about damn near anything on our radar and then some." O'Doyle muttered.
"Regardless. I won't, and can't, know more unless I can have access to an anomaly within a certain time of its appearance." Obermann declared.
"And we don't have a clue when or how they work so that's next to useless." Smith muttered.
"Which means I will be leaving for the spawn until such a time-"
"Not so fast Doctor. While we may not have a readily available anomaly that doesn't mean you and your team can go galivanting off."
"What do you expect me to do then?! Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?!"
"Can take up woodcarving. I hear it's supposed to be therapeutic. Until then we still need your expertise regarding dealings with APL-1 and the all but certain confrontation between it and the National Guard when they arrive." Smith stated.
O'Doyle turned to the side as a comms operator gestured for him. He walked over and bent down and placed the headset to his ear. He groaned and turned to Smith.
"Speak of the devil and he shall appear."
"I take it they've arrived then?"
"Yup. Large Convoy. South Road. We're also getting reports that at least three birds left the base and are en route as well. Our boys can delay them all they want but it doesn't look like the Major General is going to take no for an answer. He's coming in whether we want him to or not." O'Doyle described.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Smith sighed and turned to leave while Doe followed close behind.
"Hold down the fort then. And Doctor? If woodcarving isn't your thing try water-painting or calligraphy."
Dr. Obermann sneered but remained as Smith and Doe left the warm room and into the brisk cool air of town. They passed the ever silent sentinels guarding the Duchess's room. Their grips still tensed on their weapons as they did so. Guess they aren't quick to trust, Smith noted as they left the grim guards and got into the government car before making their way south.
Doe was quiet as they drove though. Though given how little he was able to speak before Smith seemingly answered a dozen of his questions in one breath he didn't really feel like speaking. But some things still nagged at him. So with a resigned sigh he turned to Smith.
"Why-"
"Why don't we just swallow our pride and work with the National Guard? Because the number of people that know we exist are in the triple digits. The number of people that know what we do are in double digits. The number of people that know BOTH of those are a VERY exclusive club that we aim to KEEP exclusive. As good natured as he might think he's being his presence puts ALOT of people at risk. And that's not counting the bad blood between the locals and the National Guard. The more people that know what we're doing here the higher the chance of the curtain coming down on our little show. And National Guard grunts are about the worst gossips apart from old spinsters. Even if we were to wipe away their memories of what they've seen there is always the chance that we weren't as thorough as we thought. Know what that leads to? That leads to nutcases throwing their lives away chasing after "little green men" like those basement dwellers in Majestic!"
"Who-"
"I guess you can call them our 'Science-Fiction' counterparts. And yes, inter-service rivalry is a thing even in our part of the government. But where we can peer into the void and know that there are things eons old and hungry lurking in that darkness, they can't see past Mars if their lives depended on it! We bring the President of the United States pinned pixies, werewolf hides, and Innsmouth trapped in a snow globe that he displays on his desk and we get a pat on the back and told what a good job we did. But those mouth breathers find a crashed saucer and they get NASA practically overnight and a big fat check to cash for decades! Goddamn Space Race! It wasn't Majestic that worked with skinwalkers to infiltrate Siberia and put a stop to those Inter-Dimensional experiments in Tunguska! It wasn't Majestic that wiped out Unit 17 and made the Soviet Paranormal Bureau shutter and anyone that knew it even existed purged! It wasn't Majestic that swapped out Castro for a fey changeling which resulted in a calming of tensions in Cuba! And it sure as shit wasn't Majestic that put a stop to Operation Werwolf and stopped the Nazis from unleashing actual fucking werewolves onto Europe during Endsieg now was it?!"
Smith breathed heavily as they made their way through traffic while Doe just stared at the senior agent. He was quite... passionate about the agency's rivalry with Majestic. An organization he didn't know actually existed until about ten seconds ago.
Smith took a calming breath before he continued.
"My point being. The less people that know about us, the better. And as much as the Major General might think he's being a good guy, his presence makes our jobs all the harder. Which means that there are greater risks of people, and creatures, slipping through the cracks. Which means that more lives are at risk than necessary. Which means that more people will die. Or worse, they claim credit and now our already tight budget gets tighter because the government has a new favorite and our already herculean job is even harder. At least the Space Force takes a chunk of Majestic's funding and not ours. So silver linings and all that."
Doe watched as they passed by crowds of people. Most were the newcomers from another world. Dwarves, elves, and gnomes huddled around fires as the weather got colder. They passed by construction equipment as it hauled supplies to the various housing developments the agency has going around the town. If what Smith said was true though, then most of those he saw wouldn't make it. While he'd not voice it aloud, Johnathan did hope that the National Guard would actually help. Surely the agency isn't so paranoid that they'd refuse help from them would they?
Guess we'll find out, Jonathan thought as they made their way down the road towards the checkpoint. May as well fill the air, he thought as he turned to Smith with another question.
"So-"
"How many people know what we do? Well the President obviously, as does the Vice President along with certain members of the Department of Defense. A select, and heavily vetted, group of Congress. The heads of the FBI, CIA, and Homeland Security. Several foreign heads of state and royal families. Various departments and organizations that operate the same as we do like the Yokai Department in Japan or the Office of Paranormal Affairs in Britain. As well as the Knights Templar and Order of Magi just to name a couple."
"But-"
"Didn't I say that the less people that know about us the better? It is, but there are certain people that need to know who we are and what we do because if we didn't then that'd lead to ALOT of very awkward and difficult situations. Last time something like that happened it started the Witch Trials. Took alot of work to get that cleaned up but we did it. Eventually. Since then we've operated on "Need to Know." The Major General for instance, ISN'T on that list." Smith clarified as they neared the checkpoint and the two of them saw a line of heavily armed agents in black Kevlar standing between the town and a convoy of army green trucks and jeeps. A grunt in army fatigues was shouting at one of the agents that had a bored expression on his face as the two of them pulled to a stop on the side of the checkpoint and the two disembarked.
"I don't care who you are! This is National Guard jurisdiction." The grunt yelled.
"Sir. This is a restricted area by order of the Federal Government. If you do not have authorization you will need to leave." The agent said in a bored and monotone voice that said just how many times he's had to repeat those words.
Before the grunt could begin another yelling contest, Smith and Doe intervened.
"Excuse me son. But what seems to be the problem?"
Before the grunt could continue however, another voice sounded from the lead jeep.
"So they finally sent someone important did they?"
Smith and Doe watched the jeep door open and out walked a grizzled man dressed in military attire. Unlike the rest of the grunts that had gotten out and were either smoking, chatting in their green army fatigues, or standing with their guns trying to look intimidating, this man wore the ensemble of a General Officer of the US Army. Midnight blue uniform was adorned with medals and pins for service and expertise and he marched towards the agents with an officer's swagger.
"Major General Colm MacHenry. I am here on behalf of the Governor of the State of West Virginia and the people that reside within it. You are to step aside and allow me and my men to see to our duties." The Major General declared with an air of authority.
"I'm sorry Major General. But it seems you and your men have come a long way for nothing. As my agent here has said. This is a Federal Operation and so we don't need your assistance."
"Is it now? Because I don't seem to recall the Governor, nor myself for that matter, receiving an official notice from the Feds of such an operation."
"Well, perhaps it was simply lost in the mail."
"Perhaps. Though I do find it strange that after we receive a call asking for help, our phones go to hell and now we find you spooks here."
"Perhaps Major General. As it stands though, this IS a Federal operation."
"Regardless, we are still duty bound to see to the safety of the people of this state. So "Federal Backing" or not. Step aside." The Major General commanded.
Smith remained rooted and a tension filled the air.
"Is it Major General? Because it seems the last few times the National Guard got involved, things haven't turned out so well for the people have they? Blair Mountain and what happened last time you rolled in here? Not a good history is it?"
"I wouldn't be so quick to throw history in my face, Agent Smith. Glass houses and all that. I found a couple things about you and yours that I'm sure would put what my predecessor did to shame." The Major General retorted.
Johnathan could see agents and grunts both tense up and fingers inching towards their triggers. Major General MacHenry and Agent Smith both squared one another up like they were about to go five rounds. Doors and flaps were opened further in the military convoy as more and more grunts got out with their weapons. The agents likewise began to shuffle and twitch as the tension got so thick it was like a cord ready to snap at any second.
Smith smiled at the Major General.
"I'm not sure what you could mean."
"Then let me refresh that memory of yours. Does Operation Nagaraja sound familiar?" The Major General asked with a knowing smirk and cocked brow.
Agent Smith's face remained impassive at the words though.
"Never heard of it."
"I bet you haven't. Then let me explain it to you. An operation by a certain organization that may or may not officially exist is carried out during the Cold War in Indochina. They try and recruit some rather... exotic locals for assistance against the Viet Cong. But the locals don't wanna play ball so said organization gets rough thinking they're already working for the Viet Cong. Eventually a plan is formed to overthrow their leader and install one that's more... compliant. The rest I'm sure you can imagine. Plan goes pear shaped. Alot of people are dead. And the whole thing is covered up."
"Sounds like an interesting story. Unfortunately such an operation, if it did exist, I wouldn't be at liberty to tell you about it."
"Of course not. But there are those from that time that still have a moral compass that ARE. So we can go about this in a few ways. You can step aside and let me do my sworn and God given duty to my people and after it's over we can never interact with one another again. We can shoot one another right here and now, though I'm sure that'd be a headache for your boys in suits to cover up since I'm not the only one here that knows about the uniqueness of that operation. Or I can return down the way there and tell some trusted people about the rather interesting operation, along with a few others, conducted during the Cold War and the people that seem to have a knack for being in strange places at strange times."
Before Agent Smith could push back, an agent placed a hand to his ear and walked over to Smith and whispered into his ear so low that Johnathan couldn't hear what was said. After a moment Smith nodded and the agent returned to his post while Smith turned about towards the Major General.
"It seems you do indeed have jurisdiction Major General. You and your men will take point for this operation, but we will be remaining to insure that history doesn't repeat itself a third time."
The Major General smiled and tipped his cap.
"Thank you Agent. Now would you be so kind as to step aside?"
Agent Smith and the line of agents moved to stand to the side of the road as the Major General returned to his jeep and tipped his hat to the agents as he and the convoy passed them by. M113s and Strykers rolled easily over the road ahead of military cargo trucks hauling supplies in crates as well as Humvees and LAVs.
Agent Smith was silent as he and Doe returned to their car and followed after the convoy. Leaving the agents to resume their stations at the checkpoint. As they followed after them, they could see in the distance a single Black Hawk helicopter began to descend on an open field west of town while the other two flew over the town.
As they got closer to the town they heard the Major General's voice ring out from a megaphone.
"People of Somewhere. I am Major General Colm MacHenry with the National Guard. We have arrived to offer assistance in this dire time. We will be overseeing your protection and safety until the current crisis has been averted. Remain calm and do as you are asked so we may all see this through together."
Smith scoffed as he pulled the car away from the convoy and made for the motel. Leaving the newcomers to watch in stunned awe as the US Military rolled in. Smith and Doe got out of their car and made their way into the HQ. No-one spoke until the door was closed and secured.
"How the hell does he know about it?!" Smith demanded.
"No idea." O'Doyle replied as he went around the various stations giving and re-routing orders to accommodate the National Guard presence.
"Think he was just bluffing?"
"Doubtful. The fact he knows it exists is enough. Someone talked."
"That's gonna stir up the hornets nest." Smith stated as the entire hub buzzed with activity.
"Anything more from headquarters?" Smith asked after a minute.
"Yeah. Let the grunts take point and wait for them to fuck up then use Federal Authority to step in and assume control."
"So all we have to do is wait for their blood feud with the locals to start again? Wonderful." Smith stated. Things were about to get bloody, he thought bitterly. It was only a matter of when, not if, the National Guard started turning their gaze to the mountain, and those that dwelled upon it.