Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Owlshead Mountain: Part 8 – The Mound

The opening exuded the strong odor of new-turned earth. The orifice was only about three feet wide by five feet tall. Loose earth made up the floor, walls, and even ceiling, though countless tiny rootlets were visible in the dirt. The low ceiling and narrow tunnel made single file the only option.

Hammer entered, with Archive soon after. Waban stood uncertainly outside.

Jim-Bean paused at the entrance. "You're not coming?"

"I shouldn't. I'm an old man."

Jim-Bean chuckled. "Oh come on. Your knowledge will be critical."

"Why do you care so much?" asked Waban, suspicious.

Jim-Bean's gaze was momentarily distant. "You remind me of an old friend."

Waban stepped inside. Jim-Bean followed him.

The tunnel opened up to either side and rose above, creating a rough earthen chamber some ten feet on a side and eight feet high at the center. A large granite boulder squatted near the south wall. Faint flecks of paint on the stone recalled an ambiguous design from ages past.

Hammer shined his flashlight on the stone. "Do you recognize those?"

Waban nodded. "Yes. The random designs painted on the stone are similar to ancient rock paintings discovered elsewhere. They convey the visionary experience that shamans have while in a trance."

"Look there," said Archive.

There was one ominous humanoid figure discernable amongst the other crude drawings. It had wings and no obvious head.

"I'm no mystic, but I can’t help but notice the painted arrow down the side of the rock," said Jim-Bean. "Something underneath there?"

"It's possible," said Waban. "But I'm not sure we should…"

"Ah come on," said Jim-Bean. "We're going to need another man to help lift it."

The agents all huddled around the stone and strained to lift it. When Waban saw they were struggling, he joined in.

They rolled the rock away.

Glowing red eyes swayed like a cobra beneath the stone.

Archive held out his Elder Sign. "In the name of the Elder Gods, I repel you!"

The red eyes blink closed and disappeared in the shadow of the rock.

"What was that?" asked Hammer.

"A guardian." Waban reached down to pick up what they thought was a snake. It was just a length of knotted cords and beads.

In the hollow beneath the rock were three loose eagle feathers, a small bag with crystals and other stones, a small rattle carved with a human face, and a small tube of hollow bone.

"These items once belonged in the repertoire of an ancient Indian shaman," said Archive. "You should have them." He handed them Waban.

Waban looked glumly down at the items in his hands. "I am not so sure he agreed."

 

[talien]

Owlshead Mountain: Part 9 – Cooter

The tunnel opened into another subterranean chamber. Four eight-foot tall, three-foot wide concavities were visible in the walls, two on either side. Though shrouded in darkness, the concavities appeared to contain skeletal humanoid forms.

Just then their cistrons and flashlights went out.

A second later the cavern was lit by an eerie green glow. "Glow sticks," Archive said triumphantly. "I bring them with me everywhere."

"Brilliant!" said Jim-Bean.

Three bodies resided in the wall, one to a concavity. The bodies were strangely preserved, though their uniforms were nothing more than rotting remnants. Two of the bodies wear pistols.

Archive bent down to inspect a flat stone in the floor. "I think this tells their story."

The stone contained the remnants of a crude scene depicted with stick figures. Four figures stood over the fallen form of a chief in full regalia, and the figure of a smaller individual.

"These are the three former soldiers immediately responsible for slaying Chief Cornstalk over two hundred years ago," said Waban. "Shawnee warriors avenged their chief’s death by killing and interring the murderers here with the chief they slew."

Hammer's brow furrowed. "There's a glow up ahead."

A cool blue radiance leaked from several fist-sized hollows in the chamber’s walls ahead. Though dim, the light was strong enough to reveal a pit in the chamber’s foreground. Within the pit, skeletal fragments suggested the form of two bodies, one adult and one child. Both forms were dressed in the remnants of rotting ceremonial dress. Beyond the pit, dry grass was piled in an irregular circle four feet in diameter and two feet high.

"This is Chief Cornstalk's tomb." Waban leaned down on his knees to peer into the pit. "His son is interred here too."

Time had rendered both sets of remains into so many skeletal fragments posed in the hard soil. A small, ornately painted drum lay near the hand of the smaller form, while a strange wooden mask lay upon the fragments suggesting the head of the other.

"The talisman!" said Archive, pointing at the mask.

"Kawkiutl," said Waban.

Hammer inspected the grass beyond the pit. "That's odd."

"What isn't odd around here?" asked Jim-Bean.

"The grass is only a week or so old." Hammer picked something up. "This is Harold Gall's photo ID—"

With an awful shriek, a naked, crazed man lunged out of the grass with a woodsman's ax.

"The soldier!" gasped Waban, stumbling backwards. "The curse is real!"

Hammer danced backwards as the axe blade whistled within inches of his face.

The madman's hair was a mat of knotted red strands and his body was covered in an odd thick skin. A makeshift bandolier dangled from his chest.

Hammer fired several bullets into him, backing up as he did so, but the maniac kept coming, axe raised.

"I've got him," said Jim-Bean. He stretched out one hand.

The madman struggled, lifted up in the air. He reached for an ancient pistol from his bandoleer and fired. The bullet went wide.

The former soldier was telekinetically dragged over the pit.

Archive chanted and held up the Elder Sign. A blazing beam struck the madman from the opened eye on Archive's amulet. For the first time the madman screamed.

Hammer unleashed both pistols into the dangling figure at point blank range. The screams turned into a wail as the man's features began to melt.

Jim-Bean telekinetically dumped him into the pit. Then, pointing at the ceiling, he collapsed tons of rock on top of him.

Jim-Bean wiggled one pinky in his ear. "Finally, some peace and quiet."

"We have done a terrible thing here," whispered Waban.

 

[talien]

Owlshead Mountain: Conclusion

The agents stepped out of the mound. As soon as Hammer left the mound entrance, his cistron crackled.

"—forget it, leave them! Wherever they are they must have cleared the area—Wait! Sprague’s team is still down there!”

Hammer looked around. He could make out two agents standing at the base of a quietly whirring matte black Bell Helicopter 206B JetRanger III. Another sat in the center of the helicopter manning a heavy machinegun, while a fourth was in the pilot seat.

"This is Agent Hammer, who the hell—"

“This is Agent Bremmer to team leader! Get the hell out of there!”

"Oh great," said Jim-Bean. "It's the BLACK FLAG team to the rescue."

Agent Walach waved them towards the helicopter. “The thing seems drawn to that mound you came out of, so we’re using it as a lure! This place is set to blow a minute after it trips the motion sensors along the perimeter…”

Suddenly a series of high pitch tweets lit up on Walach's cistron. "Ah $#!T."

Walach gurgled up blood as a tentacle burst through his torso. He wheezed, staring down in disbelief at the waving tentacle jutting from the center of his chest. Behind him, the hillock beneath the helicopter unfurled, tentacles lashing around the landing gear.

It was a horrifying, pitch-black monstrosity, seemingly made of ropey tentacles. It stood as tall as a tree, perhaps twenty feet tall, on a pair of stumpy, hooved legs. A mass of tentacles protruded from its trunk where a head would normally be, and puckered maws, dripping green goo, cover its flanks. It roughly resembled a tree in silhouette — the trunks being the short legs and the tops of the trees represented by the ropey, branching bodies. The whole mass of the thing smelled like an open grave.

“Run…” gasped Walach, “look out…for mines!”

The agents didn't wait. Hammer and Archive took off in one direction, Jim-Bean in another.

"This is the curse," said Waban wearily. "Leave me here."

"Oh no you don't!" shouted Jim-Bean. "I got you into this, I'm getting you out. Grab onto me."

"What?"

"I said hold on!"

Agent Hull opened up with his M16, spraying a burst into the tentacle thing, but it doesn’t seem to notice. The tentacle withdrew from Walach’s torso, leaving him twitching on the ground. Three other tentacles grabbed hold of the helicopter.

Jim-Bean grabbed hold of Waban. He had never done this before. It would take all of his concentration…

Agent Bremmer opened up on the thing with the heavy machinegun at point-blank range. The quiet whine of the helicopter’s motor was drowned out by the scream of the heavy machinegun, bullets tearing into the rubbery beast to no avail.

A sudden beeping flicked on the cistrons. It was a countdown.

"Thirty seconds!" Hammer shouted over his shoulder to Archive.

“Go!” Hull shouted to Jim-Bean, tearing a grenade from his belt. “I’ll hold it off!”

Hull’s grenade slipped hopelessly from his hand as the helicopter was yanked upward, propelled by the tentacles. Hull looked up, slack-jawed, as the shadow of the hurtling chopper consumed him.

A second later, it smashed into the ground with a terrific explosion.

Hammer dove as a mine tweeted its activation, rolling to one side without stopping. He kept running, Archive struggling to keep pace.

"Wait!" Hammer stopped, putting one hand out in front of Archive as a series of blinking lights glared back at them from beneath the undergrowth. "This way!"

The tentacle thing stomped behind them, charging forward past the burning wreckage of the helicopter.

"Now!" Hammer dove over a hillock and Archive did likewise.

There was a synchronized, final BEEP! and then the det cord linking the C4 throughout the area triggered, exploding the terrain around in a terrific hailstorm of fire and rock. It ignited the nearby forest, setting off a blazing inferno.

The tentacle thing flailed, stomping straight into the heart of the conflagration.

What Hammer at first thought was debris shot out of the billowing cloud of smoke and flames. A few seconds later, soot-covered Jim-Bean and a bewildered Waban landed next to Hammer and Archive.

"That was some explosion!" Jim-Bean exclaimed sheepishly.

 

[talien]

Chapter 47: Dawn Biozyme - Introduction

This story hour is a combination of the scenario from “A Night on Owlshead Mountain” from Arc Dream's Delta Green: Eyes Only by Dennis Detwiller, At Your Door, and The Killing Jar by Bruce Cordell. You can read more about Delta Green at Delta Green. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Game Master: Michael Tresca
• Kurtis "Hammer" Grange (Fast Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster
• Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero/Telepath) played by Jeremy Ortiz (Jeremy Robert Ortiz)
  

Joe L. couldn't play, so we were back to the buddy cop genre wherein one misstep could kill off our heroes. What starts out as a simple raid on a laboratory quickly spirals into chaos as the spawn of the "Source" prove to be much more resourceful and dangerous than the agents thought.

As always, the players surprised me. I didn't have a plan as to how things would play out, including the appearance of an Outer God. I kept my bag of tricks ready and at the appropriate stress points, introduced them. This kept the agents on their toes throughout the entire scenario. It helped that I had disgusting-looking miniatures and some cool sound effects. Specifically, a country music radio station plays in the background throughout the entire Dawn Biozyme facility, so I streamed country western music.

Early in the scenario, a disgusting opportunity presented itself that was almost as good as the "what's in the box" freak-out from a few sessions back. It was completely inspired and off the cuff, and an important lesson in scaring players by torturing non-player characters in front of them.

Defining Moment: Sometimes the threat you face isn't the monster trying to eat you. It's the monster you can't kill off fast enough.

Relevant Media

• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0933635648?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0933635648]At Your Door[/ame]: source of the serum blob.
• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1887797297?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1887797297]Delta Green: Eyes Only[/ame]: Source of Night on Owlshead Mountain.
• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/078691615X?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=078691615X]The Killing Jar[/ame]: Source of much of this scenario.
• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001NSWJ16?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B001NSWJ16]Weird Science[/ame]: by Oingo Boingo.

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Prologue

Not what teacher said to do
Making dreams come true
Living tissue, warm flesh
​

--Weird Science by Oingo Boingo​

"That's all Sprague said?" asked Jim-Bean, looking bored as he sipped the special protein drink formulated especially for his hyperactive metabolism. He flavored it occasionally with different powders to try to improve the taste, but it never helped.

Hammer nodded. "Take down Dawn Biozyme." He tapped some keys. "The pharmaceutical company's not hard to find. They even have a public web site."

Dawn Biozyme was established in 1985 by Matthew Lewis, a graduate of the Harvard Business School and eldest son of a family long connected to Washington politics. One share was worth $23 the day Hammer looked it up, with two million shares outstanding. Dawn Biozyme was worth about $46 million.

"Looks like Walter Morrow's suicide really screwed up Tiger Transit's plans," said Hammer.

"Who?"

"Walter Morrow. Morrow killed himself because he was trapped by a Hound of Tindalos, remember? Tiger Transit was trying to get him to fork over his shares, but instead they transitioned to his ex-wife, Michelle. Tiger Transit owns twenty percent. Michelle owns twenty five percent and she's not selling."

"Who owns the rest?" asked Jim-Bean.

"MegaCosmos."

Jim-Bean sipped his drink. "Now that name rings a bell."

"MegaCosmos bailed Dawn Biozyme and Lewis out in 1994. The web site describes them as one of the world’s largest research-based pharmaceutical and health care products companies. It's supposedly a leader in the discovery, development, manufacturing and marketing of prescription drugs and over-the-counter medications. It is also a global leader in vaccines, biotechnology, agricultural products, and animal health care."

"Great," said Jim-Bean. "They're everywhere."

"No joke," said Hammer. "They make Centrix, Lundicyx, and Robitussix. Hell, I took Advix a few weeks ago for my bruised ribs."

"So how do you want to take them down?" asked Jim-Bean. "Should we call in the stealth jets with x-ray killer lasers?"

Hammer shook his head. "I've got something a lot more dangerous in mind."

"What's that?"

Hammer flipped open his cistron. "Lawyers."

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Part 1 – Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals

Located on a five-acre plot on the northeast outskirts of Samson, Dawn Biozyme occupied a large new mirror-windowed building and warehouses at the end of a short dead-end street.

Three black SUVs rumbled past a twelve-foot high brick wall that surrounded the facility.

Hammer pointed behind the dark glass of the lead SUV. "See that? Heavy security for a simple lab."

Inconspicuous beneath the ivy toping was an additional two feet of projecting barbed wire, supporting arms, and various passive sensors to deter and detect intruders.

The SUVs rumbled on. The back of the facility opened on two acres of short, dry grass, not yet fully developed. On the other side were equally well-protected offices and facilities of other companies.

The main building was three stories high; the isolated production facility was one story topped by a maze of ventilators, scrubbers, alarms, and gaseous containment devices. The two warehouses were externally identical concrete structures, both three stories tall, both with narrow fixed windows near the roof.

Hammer, Jim-Bean, three lawyers and three accountants stepped of the vehicles. The lawyers and accountants were all identically dressed in gray suits and blue ties. The six office drones were more terrifying than the two agents.

Hammer smirked at the sign taped to the front door.

Due to the recent tragedy, Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals has temporarily closed its doors to the public. The company is confident the investigation will clear Dawn Biozyme Pharmaceuticals from any connection with the actions of its former employee. At that time, normal business hours will ensue.

They entered the spacious reception area through wide glass doors. Two receptionists manned a large curving desk situated at the center of the room. At an inconspicuous desk near the only entrance to the rest of the building sat a security guard. Before the reception desk were couches, low tables, and magazines.

"Hello gentlemen," said a young, clean-cut man who smiled a little too much. He approached Hammer with hand extended. "I'm Brad Geary, and I'll be your guide during your review—"

"Who's in charge here?" asked Hammer, pushing past him to the entrance proper.

"Uh, I'm your liaison," said Geary. "Agent…?"

Jim-Bean patted Geary on the back. "That's Agent Hammer. I'm Agent Jim-Bean. These guys…" he turned to encompass them with a sweep of his arm. "Well it doesn't matter who they are, just what they do."

Geary nodded, focused on Hammer, who brushed past the security guards. "Uh, Agent Hammer, you need a visitor badge!" He rushed after Hammer, saying over his shoulder to Jim-Bean. "Please be sure to sign in!"

"Don't worry I'll sign him in," said Jim-Bean cheerfully.

A few moments later Geary caught up with Hammer and handed him a visitor badge. Hammer took it but didn't put it on.

"I don't think Dawn Biozyme fully appreciates the gravity of this situation," snapped Hammer. "This isn't a tour, Geary. This is a federal investigation of a potential biohazard. Do you know who I am?"

"Agent…Hammer?" asked Geary, eyes wide.

"I'm an agent of the Counter-Intelligence Field Agency. CIFA, to you. We don't get involved unless an organization is suspected of assisting terrorists. If we find any evidence, ANY EVIDENCE, that your labs have been involved in the distribution of biohazards to terrorists we will hit you with so many injunctions, Dawn Biozyme won't be able to sneeze without incurring a fine."

Geary swallowed. "I'm sure you'll be…uh, very impressed with our operations, sir. I'd like to take you on a tour of our interior labs to show that there is no basis for your claims."

"I'll be the judge of that. Where are your files?"

Geary pointed at a bank of offices. "In there."

Hammer pointed. The accountants and lawyers trailing behind veered off and began chatting with the staff who were waiting for them there. Jim-Bean caught up with Hammer.

"I want to speak to Lewis," Hammer reiterated. "Now."

Geary fidgeted nervously and then picked up a nearby phone. After a tense conversation, he hung up. "Mr. Lewis will see you now. Follow me please."
Matthew Lewis, founder and president of Dawn Biozyme, was in his forties. Every inch the corporate shark, Lewis was a handsome man with an open, honest face and a healthy complexion. He had blue eyes and blonde hair, beginning to silver at the edges. He was dressed in an expensive suit and wore a top-of-the-line chronometer

"What can I do for you?" asked Lewis, rising from behind his desk.

"Don't bother to get up," said Hammer, standing in the doorway. "We want to know where Howard Gall's lab is."

Lewis blinked. "Of course, of course. Our business is helping people, Agent Hammer. We don't support terrorists."

Hammer spun. "I expect full cooperation."

"Certainly. Mr. Geary, please give the agents the full tour, and be sure to show them Gall's lab."

"Yes sir!" said Geary. "If you'll follow me gentlemen…"

In the next two hours the agents saw everything from the labs to the employee cafeteria. Demonstrations included an electron microscope, incubator/shakers, high performance liquid chromatographers, banks of tissue culture dishes, ovens, desiccators, refrigerators, autoclaves, spectrophotometers, and high-speed protein sequencers. They met dozens of employees. They passed by hundreds of bio-hazard signs.

Chromatography's Dr. Spencer demonstrated the company's research computer, linked both to the UC-Samson library and to the research library of MegaCosmos, one of Dawn Biozyme's largest investors.

“The amount of information we have at our fingertips is simply incredible," the scientist crooned.

Dr. Lois Keating, an eminent microbiologist, after failing to successfully communicate the complexities of correctly inserting DNA fragments into double-stranded vectors, beamed proudly over her chocolate fragrance pansies.

"We're searching for ways to insert disease-resistant genes in a common winter wheat strain," she said.

Finally, they met Dr. Howard Finley, director of research and development. In his fifties, Finley was tall, thin, balding and wore glasses.

"Hello gentlemen," he said to the agents. "Mister Geary, I believe that concludes the end of the tour, does it not?"

Geary nodded.

"I'll take it from here, thank you." He dismissed Geary with a smile.

"Is this Gall's chair?" asked Jim-Bean.

Finley nodded.

Jim-Bean plopped himself down in the chair. He put one hand on the phone and sat there for a second, concentrating.

Finley peered at him. "Is everything all right?"

Jim-Bean shook his head at Hammer.

Hammer turned to Finley. "Can we speak with you in your office?"

Finley smiled. "Certainly. Is something wrong?"

Hammer didn't answer. They marched the short distance to Finley's office.

Finley’s spacious office had a wall behind his desk that was bloated with framed degrees and certificates.

Hammer nodded in the direction of the dark globe that hung in one corner of the room. "Security's really tight here, huh?"

"What is this about?" asked Finley, moving toward the seat at his desk.

Jim-Bean looked over at Hammer. "Too bad you've got a cough, Hammer. We could really use some Robitussix."

Hammer blinked at Jim-Bean. "What?"

Jim-Bean put one hand around Finley, pointing at one of the degrees on the wall. "Miskatonic University, huh? Do you know Dr. Joseph Bread?"

"I do," said Finley. "He's in the Archaeology department…"

Jim-Bean leaned over and whispered, out of sight of the camera. "We know that's not Gall's office. Now you either cooperate or we lock you up. Guys like you don't last long in prison."

Finley froze. "They'll kill me if I talk," he hissed.

Hammer plopped himself down in Finley's chair and opened a folder on the table, concealing his mouth from the camera. "We can offer you protection."

"You either cooperate with us now," said Jim-Bean, pointing at another degree as if they were having an amiable conversation about Finley's education, "or we hang you out to dry and Dawn Biozyme kills you anyway. I don't think you have a lot of choices here."

Finley sighed. "There are cameras everywhere. If I go with you they'll notice…"

"Slip me your badge. Then take a long dump in the bathroom," said Jim-Bean. "That'll buy you some time."

"It's in my pocket. Take it."

Jim-Bean slipped one hand into Finley's lab coat and fished out the badge.

"Where's Gall's office, anyway?" asked Hammer.

"Down below," said Finley. "It's a restricted area."

"His office is restricted?" asked Hammer.

Finley shook his head. "The entire level."

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Part 2 – Compromised Environment

Sparse night lights provided just enough light to see by, but little more—a few seemed to be out, while others flickered intermittently. All the visible doors were wholly or slightly ajar.

The wavering light revealed clean tile floors and antiseptically bare walls, although strange designs—hard to make out in the darkness—painted the floor and walls at random. The PA system was routed into the local country radio station, WTHQ 101.7. Unfortunately, the PA system was tinny and hollow and the country music eerily played in the darkened rooms and halls.

Hammer pointed at the door closest to the stairwell. It was slightly ajar.

Hammer and Jim-Bean took up positions on either side of the door, pistols out. Covering all angles, they pushed their way in.

Ventilation hoods competed with lab benches for wall and floor space. Every flat surface was covered with bottles filled with myriad chemicals, petri plates, slides, notebooks, and equipment ranging from easy-to-recognize microscopes to rotoevaporators, gel electrophoresis plates, and chromatography columns.

After confirming the room was empty, Hammer took a look at the microscope. "Take a look."

Jim-Bean examined the microscope. The slide showed two cells. They appeared to be much different from each other. They were joined at the ends but were completing the process of breaking off from each other.

"What in the world kind of cell structure is that?" asked Hammer.

"That's the point," said Jim-Bean, shaking his head. "I'm not sure it is any kind of cell structure. Biologically speaking."

There was a muffled thump from a door on the other side of the lab.

Hammer and Jim-Bean took up positions next to the closed door. Hammer kicked it open.

It was another lab. Glassware lay broken here and there, a ventilation hood was dented and sticky with some sort of slime, machines mysteriously continued to run, though no operator stood nearby.

Two feet stuck out beneath an upright freezer. One of the feet twitched.

"Hey, you," shouted Hammer. "Come out of there."

Someone grunted beneath the freezer. "I'm a little…stuck."

Hammer grabbed the man by the ankles and yanked him out while Jim-Bean kept his gun trained on him.

It was a nebbish-looking scientist. He settled his glasses back on his nose. His badge read "Turne."

"Thanks," he said, rising to his feet.

"Who are you?" asked Hammer.

"Robert Turne." He looked around, blinking. "What happened?"

"We were going to ask you the same question," said Jim-Bean. "Why haven't you evacuated this floor like everyone else?"

"Evacuated?" Robert blinked. "I…I don't know. Last thing I remember I was working with Bill and Cliff…"

"Did you leave the machinery on?" asked Hammer urgently. "And the slide under the microscope?"

"What?" Robert took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "That was probably Bill. He's always leaving stuff on."

"Why don't you have a seat," said Jim-Bean. It wasn't a request. He shoved Robert into a chair.

"What's going on?" Robert quickly became alarmed. "Is this some sort of raid?"

"We're with the security team. This is just a precaution," said Hammer as he zip-tied Robert's wrists to the metal chair.

"Wait…what? Have I done something wrong?"

"Not yet," said Jim-Bean.

Hammer pulled up a chair opposite Robert. "Now listen to me very carefully, Robert. We were just doing a final sweep of this level. We're shutting down the lab because the government is on to us. But something must have gone wrong, because you're still here."

Robert slowly nodded. "Yeah, I remember. I remember that I was supposed to clean up…" he coughed.

"Are you all right?"

Robert coughed again. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Before he could speak again, Jim-Bean said softly but tersely. "Hammer. His nose."

A thin trickle of blood dripped out of Robert's left nostril.

"Oh geeze, that happens when I get stressed. I'm sorry."

Hammer forced a smile. "No problem." He grabbed a cloth from one of the lab tables and wiped Robert's nose with it. "Now you were saying?"

"We got the word to sanitize the place. Bill was moving fast. I told him to…" he coughed again.

"Were you working with any infectious agents?" asked Hammer, taking a step back. "You don't look so good."

Robert blinked, looking around as if he was seeing the room for the first time. "Oh no."

"What?" asked Jim-Bean.

"I remember now. Yes, the cnidocytes. Oh God…"

"What? What about them?"

"We were experimenting with Mother's Milk." Robert started talking very quickly. "We used the yrmmrh crystals taken from the xenoforms. The tertiary cnidocytes can infect you…"

"What xenoforms?" asked Jim-Bean tersely.

"Oh God, I don't want to die…" Robert coughed. He started wheezing and this time blood burst in a stream from his right nostril.

Robert looked down and moaned. Something red and wet wiggled on Robert's lap in the pool of blood.

"Jesus," whispered Hammer.

"Kill me!" wailed Robert. "Kill me, PLEASE!"

Hammer took a deep breath. "Robert, I—"

"KILL ME NOW!" he wailed.

Hammer put his pistol to Robert's head and fired.

The scientist's head bucked and his body convulsed.

Hammer and Jim-Bean exchanged a sorrowful glance. They'd killed men before. But this was an innocent. He was…

Robert gasped, his head snapping back upright. A tentacle waved from the bullet hole in his head. "It's not working!" he croaked.

"Christ!" Hammer lifted his pistol and fired another bullet into the man's head.

He jerked. A tentacle coiled out of the wound, waving bits of blood and brain inches from Robert's head as if raising a flag of defeat.

"It's not WOHHHRRKINHHH," gagged Robert, eyes rolling, head lolling.

Jim-Bean and Hammer pointed their pistols at Robert and fired, the silencers on the muzzles flashing a staccato beat.

Finally, Robert was still. His head looked like bloody spaghetti mixed with hamburger meat.

Jim-Bean stifled a gag. There were no clever quips from either of them. They knew what the cnidocyte could do once it got inside a dead body. Now they knew what it could do to the living.

Disgusted by the senseless violence, they stepped out into the hall.

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Part 3 – Getting Ahead

Hammer and Jim-Bean caught sight of a figure ducking around a corner.

"Stop!" shouted Hammer.

They sped around the corner to see a technician in a lab coat fleeing down the length of the corridor.

"I said stop!" commanded Hammer again, jogging after the technician.

Coming to the end of the hallway, the man stopped running.

Jim-Bean and Hammer both had him covered with their pistols. "Put your hands on your head."

The figure did as he was told.

"Get down on the ground."

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, face down. His nametag was partially visible: WILLIAM.

Hammer zip-tied his wrists together. "Who are you and why were you running…"

He stopped talking as the man's head exploded. Bits of brain and an eyeball burst in a red spray as what looked like a bloody jellyfish lunged for Hammer's face.

Hammer got one hand up just in time. It was another cnidocyte. He knew what would happen if it got inside him.

The agent staggered backwards, torn between dropping his pistol to use both hands on it and keeping the weapon ready so that he could kill it as soon he had a clear shot. One tentacle wrapped around his throat. It made an awful sucking noise as the brain-like jelly probed his nostrils.

With a roar, Hammer tore it off his head, lacerating his face and neck. The pain was immense.

Jim-Bean and Hammer fired at the thing as it fell, but the bullets just punched right through it. It rebounded off the floor, a wall, and then lunged at Jim-Bean.

Jim-Bean was ready. He dropped his pistol and caught it in mid-air with both hands. Its tentacles wrapped around his arm. "I got it!" he shouted. "Open the door!"

Hammer kicked open a nearby door labeled: café.

"Microwave!" shouted Jim-Bean. He struggled mightily with the cnidocyte, which was attempting to drag itself up his arm.

Hammer opened the microwave.

With a roar, Jim-Bean hurled the thing inside. Hammer slammed it shut and pressed SENSOR REHEAT.

The thing squealed as the microwave hummed to life. It smashed itself against the glass door, tentacles twitching obscenely.

Smoke billowed up from the microwave. A second later there was a loud pop and the door burst open.

Jim-Bean and Hammer sat down, exhausted, on two cafeteria chairs. "Well…that's one way to kill them."

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Part 4 – Wolf at the Door

There was a commotion at the far end of the hall. Jim-Bean peeked out around the corner.

"Another one. He's running hard this way."

Hammer drew a bead on him, then lowered his pistol. "What's that behind him?"

A dark, clanking shape loped behind the scientist. The scientist's features were concealed in the shadows of the hallway. As he passed through the flickering lamplight from above, red stains were visible on his lab coat.

A second later something huge and hairy flashed through the shaft of light after him.

He never made it. The thing landed on the scientist's back, smashing him to the ground with one paw. There was an odd whirring sound as its shining jaws, visible even in silhouette, clamped down on the struggle skull of its prey.

"What the hell is THAT?" asked Jim-Bean.

The bear-sized canine-like form ripped upwards, tearing the head from the scientist's neck. Tentacles dangled from the head, tendrils leftover from the cnidocyte's infestation.

With a crunch, the head was pulped in the jaws of the monstrosity. It looked up at the agents at the other end of the hall, eyes flashing red.

A second later an alarm began to sound.

"I don't think it's with the cnidocytes," said Hammer. He took aim with both pistols.

Jim-Bean aimed his pistol at the thing as it broke into a run. "But does it know WE'RE not cnidocytes?"

The agents answered their own question with repeated gunfire. Fur broke off in clumps and bullets ricocheted as the thing rushing towards them.

Hammer backed up towards another door, but Jim-Bean wasn't as fast. The monstrous hound lunged.

Jim-Bean got lucky. He twisted out of the way, still firing his pistol, but the full bulk of the thing smashed him forward and further down the corridor, knocking him unconscious. Even his protomatter body couldn't withstand the full force of several hundred pounds of charging muscle and teeth.

Before the thing could scramble to its feet, Hammer dragged Jim-Bean through the door and slammed it shut.

He was in a guard post. Ten metal lockers, a shower, and related facilities were peripheral to the room, which also contained four bunk beds, a large meeting table, and several large plastic chests. An adjoining brig behind a reinforced door contained a small window and feeding station.

Hammer dragged Jim-Bean into the brig.

The door to the guard post shrieked as it was rent by the jaws of the beast. Shaking its head, the door was ripped off its hinges and flung it into the hallway.

The slim form of the wolf-like monster plunged through the doorway just as Hammer closed the brig door. The hound slammed into it a second later, huge jaws gnashing at Hammer.

The brig was tiny and the wolf's head was huge, much larger than any normal animal. It smashed its head through the feeding slot, threatening to tear the door apart.

Jim-Bean was momentarily safe, lying unconscious on the floor and out of harm's way. The wolf could only extend forward, which made things uncomfortable for Hammer.

Hammer backed up as the jaws snapped at his face, inches away.

Up close, it was clear the thing was neither hound nor bear. It was some kind of cybernetic organism. Where bullets and cnidocytes had attacked it, clumps of bloody flesh had fallen away to reveal a rippling metal structure beneath. Its face had suffered the brunt of the attacks, leaving a metallic, angular head that was all jaws. Two cameras for eyes whirred to focus on Hammer. Branded on its gleaming metallic forehead were the words: K-10 STEPPENWOLF.

Hammer was stuck. He couldn't move to get a shot at the thing's head, but it couldn't reach him.

The cybernetic hound made a decision. It dug into the floor with steel claws and yanked backwards. Rivets popped up as the reinforced brig door gave way.

Hammer's guns were up as it withdrew. He fired two bullets into the thing's camera eyes. Blinded, the hound flailed around momentarily, the reinforced door jutting from around its neck like a dog fresh from the vet. Then whirring servos shut down and the body went limp.

Jim-Bean, his protomatter healing factor kicking in, bolted upright, coming face to face with the deactivated beast. "AAAAAAH!"

"It's dead," said Hammer, exhausted.

"How can you tell?" asked Jim-Bean, peering curiously at the bear-sized head, now drooping downwards as if chastised by its owner.

"I don't plan to find out." Hammer edged his way around the inanimate bear-hound.

Jim-Bean shook his head as he followed Hammer's circuitous path. "This place is nuts."

 

[talien]

Dawn Biozyme: Part 5 – Red Dots

Hammer edged out into the hall, his ears assaulted by a cacophony of alarms and the soft country rock of WTHQ 101.7. Two bodies littered the hallway, both missing their heads.

Jim-Bean noticed a red dot on the wall. It was joined by another. And another. "Uh…"

"Down!" shouted Hammer.

Short bursts of automatic fire peppered the wall above their heads.

The agents ducked through a door that opened into an adjoining hallway. Hammer closed the door halfway. Jim-Bean knelt down on one knee and rifled through his satchel.

"That must be security," said Jim-Bean.

Hammer returned fire through the opening. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving a little present for our new friends." He attached blocks of C-4 around the door. "I'll set this off when they come through."

"Great." Hammer looked over his shoulder at the dark corridor. "No way to go but deeper in." He ran down to the only door at the end of the hallway, kicked it open, and then ducked inside.

Jim-Bean waited. He could hear the comms of the security team crackling. They were converging on his location from two different angles.

Somebody yelped in surprise. There was a brief shriek, followed by the squealing of what sounded like a mewling cat. A very large cat.

Jim-Bean peeked around the open doorway.

The security team, dressed in black and armed with nightvision goggles and laser sights on their automatic weapons, began firing in a hallway off to the side.

A pulpy tentacle the girth of a tree and the color of dead man's flesh whipped out from the side hallway and engulfed one of the men by his head. His machinegun sprayed wildly into the floor as he was sucked out of sight.

The security team, what was left of them, started running towards Jim-Bean. He retreated back to the door Hammer went through and waited.

"Secondary cnidocytes are loose!" screamed one of them as he skidded to a halt inside the door. He slammed it just shut behind him, gasping into his comm. "I repeat, secondary cnidocytes are loose in level two—"

Then he noticed the blinking detonators and C-4 plastered around the door. "Uh oh."

Jim-Bean closed the door behind him as the explosion went off. He almost felt bad for them.