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Delta Green - All Part of the Job
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<blockquote data-quote="Audrik" data-source="post: 6489167" data-attributes="member: 73653"><p><strong>Music From A Darkened Room - Agent SID's Epilogue</strong></p><p></p><p>Agent SID rested comfortably in his hospital bed experiencing everything through a morphine haze. For what could have been hours, days, or even weeks, he drifted almost seamlessly in and out of consciousness. One moment, he was in the hospital, and the next, he was in a vivid dream. He began to get used to the transitions, and he even welcomed them. The blur between reality and dream was something his mind needed right now.</p><p></p><p>Hospital, dream, hospital, dream … field? Did he skip consciousness in favor of another dream? His dreams had become so vivid that he really had no way to tell. Up until just now, he’d been considering everything related to the hospital to be “reality”, and everything else to be “dream”. While the lines were quite blurred, there had been a noticeable flow from one to the other. This time, either he skipped reality and went to another dream, or this field was real.</p><p></p><p>It was warm, the grass was green, and the blue sky was sparsely decorated by various cloud shapes. From the hilltop, he could see deep valleys, rivers, forests, and mountains. This couldn’t be real since the last he knew, it was … November? December? It was … oh, he didn’t really care. This seemed real enough, and it was definitely peaceful.</p><p></p><p>SID found a dry spot in the grass and flowers with a flat rock. He laid back with his hands behind his head and his fingers laced using the rock as a pillow, and he watched the clouds roll by. It was so peaceful that he almost dozed off. If this was a dream, could he still fall asleep? Did it really matter?</p><p></p><p>He heard a dull, emotionless voice, but he couldn’t be sure where it had come from. It seemed to be all around, and yet nowhere.</p><p></p><p>“Subject damaged … stabilized … sub-optimal.”</p><p></p><p>SID blinked a few times, but he continued to relax and watch the clouds. The voice spoke again.</p><p></p><p>“Sub-optimal … frail … recommend full conversion …”</p><p></p><p>The voice was almost definitely coming from in his head, almost like a radio signal he couldn’t quite pin down. He hoped the voice wasn’t talking about him. Sub-optimal and frail weren’t words typically attributed to him. He was U.S. Army Intelligence. He was INSCOM “Black” Ops. Damn it, he was Delta Green.</p><p></p><p>“Delta Green … The one called Drake was correct …”</p><p></p><p>SID instinctively tried to shut off his mind for a moment. The voice heard his thoughts? Was the voice another of his thoughts? Stop thinking, Cramer. Stop thinking just in case.</p><p></p><p>A second voice spoke inside his head. This one was very similar, yet it was definitely distinct.</p><p></p><p>“Subject’s thoughts are erratic … chaotic … dangerous … recommend termination …”</p><p></p><p>Uh oh. He may or may not have actually been on a hilltop watching clouds. Reality and dream were seeming less and less distinct. His work for Delta Gr-- … His work may have pushed him over the edge. He wasn’t sure what “full conversion” was, but he knew damned well that he didn’t want termination. He was helpless, but he secretly rooted for the first voice to win out.</p><p></p><p>“Erratic … chaotic … dangerous … but valuable …”</p><p></p><p>“Too dangerous …”</p><p></p><p>“Controllable … recommend full conversion …”</p><p></p><p>“Termination …”</p><p></p><p>“Full conversion …”</p><p></p><p>There was a pause, and a third voice joined. This was a human-sounding voice, a man’s voice. The voice of God?</p><p></p><p>“Termination is not an option. The United States Army and Majestic have too Goddamned much riding on him.”</p><p></p><p>Okay then. So it probably wasn’t God. But it was familiar. General Drake? That was it; Brigadier General Justin Drake. The first two voices spoke in unison, and the general replied.</p><p></p><p>“Full conversion … with failsafe …”</p><p></p><p>“That’ll do.”</p><p></p><p>One of the fluffy white clouds suddenly went dark. A moment later, Agent SID was struck by three precisely timed bolts of lightning, and his body spasmed with each. Everything went dark, and when he awoke, he was in a hospital bed, but he wasn’t in a hospital room.</p><p></p><p>The walls, ceiling, and floor were concrete, and there were no windows. The room was lit by florescent tubes along the walls and directly overhead. There were several large vats with thick, churning grey slime, and next to his bed was a small cylinder on a wheeled table.</p><p></p><p>SID sat up, and a young soldier near the door stood from his chair to salute.</p><p></p><p>“Good morning, Captain. I’ll be outside when you’re ready. Your clothes are over there.”</p><p></p><p>The soldier gestured to a neatly folded stack of clothing before stepping through the door and closing it behind him.</p><p></p><p>Agent SID wasn’t sure just what was going on, but he sure felt better than he had in years. He dressed quickly and checked a small mirror on the wall to fix his hair. There was something off about the face he saw looking back at him. It was his, but it seemed somehow … not his. Also, there was the small matter of his neck; no scars from the dog bite, no scars from the razor.</p><p></p><p>SID washed his face in the sink below the mirror, and something didn’t feel quite right. Looking down at his hands, he realized the problem. No finger prints, no hand prints. They were smooth. This wasn’t his body. It looked like his, and he was definitely in it, but it wasn’t his. Agent SID kept his calm, but then a panicked thought hit him. Like a flash, in his best Michael Jackson or Madonna impression, his hand dropped to his crotch. He breathed a sigh of relief. Everything seemed to be in order.</p><p></p><p>Agent SID stepped out into the hall, and the guard escorted him through a maze of concrete and steel. After a while, they arrived outside a door, and the soldier knocked. A gruff voice from the other side instructed them to enter.</p><p></p><p>General Drake stood from behind his desk and looked at SID expectantly. Having been in this situation twice before, and going 50-50 on his response, Agent SID got it right. The general returned the salute and took his seat.</p><p></p><p>“Captain Gump, I don’t care what you were doing in New Hampshire. I know it was a Delta Green Operation, but it doesn’t concern me.”</p><p></p><p>SID took a seat and remained silent. There was no point in denying his Delta Green affiliation, but neither was there a point in acknowledging it.</p><p></p><p>“Captain, what does concern me is something that concerns the whole damned U.S. Army. You were slipping. You damned near wiped out a $20 million experiment with two swipes of a razor, and you did it in public. So what do we do about that, Captain? We throw more money at the experiment. You’ve been in this facility for ten months, and in that time some very big changes have been made. No adamantine skeleton or claws. No red, white, and blue shield. I’m going to be watching you closely, and if I catch you trying to be one of them X-Men, we’re going to have a problem.”</p><p></p><p>The general’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. SID remained silent and felt himself instinctively leaning back.</p><p></p><p>“And for God’s sake, Gump, take care of this body. I can promise you it’s the last you’ll ever get. Am I understood?”</p><p></p><p>SID nodded slowly, but that wasn’t the answer the general wanted.</p><p></p><p>“Am I understood, Captain?!”</p><p></p><p>“Sir, you are understood, sir!”</p><p></p><p>SID wasn’t sure where the hell that came from, but it was the correct response. The general stood and saluted.</p><p></p><p>“Now get the hell out of my office and off my base.”</p><p></p><p>Agent SID was all too happy to do so, and he returned home to put his new body to the test.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Audrik, post: 6489167, member: 73653"] [b]Music From A Darkened Room - Agent SID's Epilogue[/b] Agent SID rested comfortably in his hospital bed experiencing everything through a morphine haze. For what could have been hours, days, or even weeks, he drifted almost seamlessly in and out of consciousness. One moment, he was in the hospital, and the next, he was in a vivid dream. He began to get used to the transitions, and he even welcomed them. The blur between reality and dream was something his mind needed right now. Hospital, dream, hospital, dream … field? Did he skip consciousness in favor of another dream? His dreams had become so vivid that he really had no way to tell. Up until just now, he’d been considering everything related to the hospital to be “reality”, and everything else to be “dream”. While the lines were quite blurred, there had been a noticeable flow from one to the other. This time, either he skipped reality and went to another dream, or this field was real. It was warm, the grass was green, and the blue sky was sparsely decorated by various cloud shapes. From the hilltop, he could see deep valleys, rivers, forests, and mountains. This couldn’t be real since the last he knew, it was … November? December? It was … oh, he didn’t really care. This seemed real enough, and it was definitely peaceful. SID found a dry spot in the grass and flowers with a flat rock. He laid back with his hands behind his head and his fingers laced using the rock as a pillow, and he watched the clouds roll by. It was so peaceful that he almost dozed off. If this was a dream, could he still fall asleep? Did it really matter? He heard a dull, emotionless voice, but he couldn’t be sure where it had come from. It seemed to be all around, and yet nowhere. “Subject damaged … stabilized … sub-optimal.” SID blinked a few times, but he continued to relax and watch the clouds. The voice spoke again. “Sub-optimal … frail … recommend full conversion …” The voice was almost definitely coming from in his head, almost like a radio signal he couldn’t quite pin down. He hoped the voice wasn’t talking about him. Sub-optimal and frail weren’t words typically attributed to him. He was U.S. Army Intelligence. He was INSCOM “Black” Ops. Damn it, he was Delta Green. “Delta Green … The one called Drake was correct …” SID instinctively tried to shut off his mind for a moment. The voice heard his thoughts? Was the voice another of his thoughts? Stop thinking, Cramer. Stop thinking just in case. A second voice spoke inside his head. This one was very similar, yet it was definitely distinct. “Subject’s thoughts are erratic … chaotic … dangerous … recommend termination …” Uh oh. He may or may not have actually been on a hilltop watching clouds. Reality and dream were seeming less and less distinct. His work for Delta Gr-- … His work may have pushed him over the edge. He wasn’t sure what “full conversion” was, but he knew damned well that he didn’t want termination. He was helpless, but he secretly rooted for the first voice to win out. “Erratic … chaotic … dangerous … but valuable …” “Too dangerous …” “Controllable … recommend full conversion …” “Termination …” “Full conversion …” There was a pause, and a third voice joined. This was a human-sounding voice, a man’s voice. The voice of God? “Termination is not an option. The United States Army and Majestic have too Goddamned much riding on him.” Okay then. So it probably wasn’t God. But it was familiar. General Drake? That was it; Brigadier General Justin Drake. The first two voices spoke in unison, and the general replied. “Full conversion … with failsafe …” “That’ll do.” One of the fluffy white clouds suddenly went dark. A moment later, Agent SID was struck by three precisely timed bolts of lightning, and his body spasmed with each. Everything went dark, and when he awoke, he was in a hospital bed, but he wasn’t in a hospital room. The walls, ceiling, and floor were concrete, and there were no windows. The room was lit by florescent tubes along the walls and directly overhead. There were several large vats with thick, churning grey slime, and next to his bed was a small cylinder on a wheeled table. SID sat up, and a young soldier near the door stood from his chair to salute. “Good morning, Captain. I’ll be outside when you’re ready. Your clothes are over there.” The soldier gestured to a neatly folded stack of clothing before stepping through the door and closing it behind him. Agent SID wasn’t sure just what was going on, but he sure felt better than he had in years. He dressed quickly and checked a small mirror on the wall to fix his hair. There was something off about the face he saw looking back at him. It was his, but it seemed somehow … not his. Also, there was the small matter of his neck; no scars from the dog bite, no scars from the razor. SID washed his face in the sink below the mirror, and something didn’t feel quite right. Looking down at his hands, he realized the problem. No finger prints, no hand prints. They were smooth. This wasn’t his body. It looked like his, and he was definitely in it, but it wasn’t his. Agent SID kept his calm, but then a panicked thought hit him. Like a flash, in his best Michael Jackson or Madonna impression, his hand dropped to his crotch. He breathed a sigh of relief. Everything seemed to be in order. Agent SID stepped out into the hall, and the guard escorted him through a maze of concrete and steel. After a while, they arrived outside a door, and the soldier knocked. A gruff voice from the other side instructed them to enter. General Drake stood from behind his desk and looked at SID expectantly. Having been in this situation twice before, and going 50-50 on his response, Agent SID got it right. The general returned the salute and took his seat. “Captain Gump, I don’t care what you were doing in New Hampshire. I know it was a Delta Green Operation, but it doesn’t concern me.” SID took a seat and remained silent. There was no point in denying his Delta Green affiliation, but neither was there a point in acknowledging it. “Captain, what does concern me is something that concerns the whole damned U.S. Army. You were slipping. You damned near wiped out a $20 million experiment with two swipes of a razor, and you did it in public. So what do we do about that, Captain? We throw more money at the experiment. You’ve been in this facility for ten months, and in that time some very big changes have been made. No adamantine skeleton or claws. No red, white, and blue shield. I’m going to be watching you closely, and if I catch you trying to be one of them X-Men, we’re going to have a problem.” The general’s eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. SID remained silent and felt himself instinctively leaning back. “And for God’s sake, Gump, take care of this body. I can promise you it’s the last you’ll ever get. Am I understood?” SID nodded slowly, but that wasn’t the answer the general wanted. “Am I understood, Captain?!” “Sir, you are understood, sir!” SID wasn’t sure where the hell that came from, but it was the correct response. The general stood and saluted. “Now get the hell out of my office and off my base.” Agent SID was all too happy to do so, and he returned home to put his new body to the test. [/QUOTE]
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