DOR Chapter 106 – Babel Debrief

Chapter 106 – Babel Debrief

“I’m just saying, it’s wild,” said Howie. The elevator doors closed and Cole leaned against the wall as his team rode up towards the third floor. Hard Tone was conducting individual team debriefs, and theirs was the last of the day. Howie continued. “Like, four scientists and two soldiers dead, more people injured from an experiment at a government laboratory. Not a peep. Any other organization this would be a national disaster.”

“This is one of the most secretive programs in the history of the country,” Roxy pointed out.

“That we know of,” Howie replied.

Cole huffed. “What could they possibly have hidden away that is a bigger secret than a multiverse of magic worlds with a bad habit of kidnapping Earth teenagers?”

“Ark of the Covenant?” asked Roxy.

“Aliens among us,” said Besson.

They all glanced at Nona, who said nothing and stared at the wall.

“Still part of this secret, technically,” said Howie. “Still, it’s hard to believe such a huge operation with so many moving parts and a sky-high budget priority is happening right in DC’s back yard. A ramshackle, barely-regulated government agency mounting expeditions to other worlds. Para-military black ops combat actions with monsters and magic and super-powers. What if it ever went public?”

The doors slid open and Cole pushed off the wall. “If otherworld knowledge goes public, DOR is the safety net,” he said.

“How do you figure?” asked Howie, raising an eyebrow.

Cole shrugged. “When we asked why we didn’t send aid packages to Curahee, Bricker suggested the backing behind DOR’s specific mandate was political.”

Howie’s eyes widened. “It’s top level CYA. Imagine the unholy shitstorm if people found out their kids were being spirited away to other worlds, and the government not only knew about it, but wasn’t already doing everything in their power to get them back.”

“That’s true,” said Roxy. “I mean, they’re fucked either way. But this way whoever is in charge can be like look, yeah we kept this from you. But we’ve spent fifteen years keeping your kids safe.”

“All above our paygrade,” said Cole.

Howie chuckled. “Have you seen your paygrade lately?”

Cole had nothing to say to that.

Hard Tone was already waiting in the conference room with her squire. She looked up as Cole badged in and checked her watch.

“Airborne, you’re early,” she said.

“If you’re not early, you’re late,” said Cole.

Hard Tone rolled her eyes. “You can take the soldier out of the Army,” she teased. Then she shook her head. “I’ve been over your team’s helmet cams from Babel. And I heard about Oak Ridge. What a fucking trip. You guys are a trouble-magnet.”

Howie slid into the chair opposite the high-level Kicker. “Not exactly our smoothest op,” he admitted. “Maybe we’ll get a milk run next time. Babysit some drone pilots or something.”

“Good luck with that,” said Hard Tone. “You’re too high level, now. Too valuable to waste on portal duty.”

Cole took his own chair. “We’re not even enhancement level twenty, yet,” he said. “Aren’t you and Deadlight around level fifty?”

Hard Tone glanced at him. “I’m level fifty-four. Deadlight is fifty-six. And he doesn’t ever let me forget it. But most Kickers take a year or two to reach their twenties and usually retire or get injured before level—or age—thirty. Sometimes they come back and support ops again, but us high-level lifers are the minorities.”

Howie started to lean forward, but Cole pushed his shoulder back. “If you ask her age you’re probably leaving on a stretcher,” he whispered.

“Good call,” said Howie.

“Very good call,” said Hard Tone. She glanced to her squire. “Ok, Wes. Load up the fifth-floor stuff.”

Her squire connected his laptop to the projector and brought up a series of short clips from their time at the peak of the volcanic mountain, when Cole saw the swarm of apes being driven by the Beast Cult mages.

“Seems like the tower has had quite a shakeup. These guys aren’t usually seen in numbers like this until the tenth floor or higher. The locals have their own name for them, but we call them trogledorks.  Dallemonte must be getting bored with the safe settlements if he’s letting them down that low. Didn’t help those masked assholes whipping them into such a frenzy. But it’s likely all our current intel on the fourth through sixth floors is about to get turned on its head. Good work locating Black. She’s certainly…” Hard Tone searched for a word. “Let’s just call her a handful.”

“Kid thought she was dead and in hell,” said Cole. “That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Yeah, well, whatever impression you made on her must have stuck firm. I think she’ll be jumping to become a Kicker herself once she’s an adult. But she’s got a lot of trauma to work through first, from the tower and even before she was taken. Bricker looked into her home life, and it’s extremely rare for him to not immediately contact next-of-kin during repatriation. Her future is uncertain for now. But if she wants to be a Kicker she’s going to need to hammer out a few of those issues, first. Namely, that attitude of hers, and her suspicion of anyone in a position of authority over her.”

“Nothing a few good drill sergeants wouldn’t correct quick, fast, and in a hurry at Basic.”

Besson, Cole’s fellow Army grunt, added a hmmph of agreement.

Beth wasn’t the only one. Cole shot a glance back at Nona, who was studying a patch of the carpet. Now back on Earth with her access to much of her own soul cut off, she was back to being the distant, recalcitrant stand-offish woman. Those two had caused sparks on Babel. Too alike, and neither liked what they saw of themselves reflected in the other.

Cole looked back at Hard Tone. “If my take is worth anything, I think she’ll make a great Kicker. She’s got the guts, she’s got the skills. But she’s going to need a strong hand keeping her steady.”

Hard Tone nodded. “That’s my read as well. Hopefully she can learn to take orders better than some meat-heads in the department I could mention.”

Roxy cleared her throat. “She mentioned emancipation and possibly being settled here in Virginia with a basic housing allowance from the department until she finishes school. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t mind checking in on her from time to time. Making sure she’s not getting into too much trouble, you know?” Roxy shrugged when Hard Tone looked at her. “She’s a good kid. Like you said, just needs a little support.”

“I’ll make a note of that in her file,” said Hard Tone. “Your endorsement will go a long way with the Director. You spent the most time with her and it’s pretty obvious she likes you. But that’s admin bullshit. Let’s move on.”

She leaned over the laptop and switched to the lava-veined underground city, and still images of the statue and genie populated the main screen.

“The monkeys we’ve seen, but this shit?” she shook her head. “I don’t know where Dallemonte collected this thing. But it’s a critical hazard from a floor that hasn’t yet been fully charted since Dallemonte’s last renovation. It sucks that you got caught up in it, but this intel is going to save Kicker lives in the future. So, thank you for capturing so much detail. If I were you, I’d look at making sure you have a teammate with an ability that resists psychic influence. Either recruit one of the free agents in the department or find a class ev that can do it. That becomes more common in higher risk-index fields. Gotta have your bases covered.”

“Noted,” said Cole. “Any recommendations?”

“Morgan says the next training push shows potential. Check with her. Already heard you volunteered to help proctor Curahee. That’ll give you a leg up.”

Howie looked over, one eyebrow raised. “Seriously?”

Cole nodded.

“You want to go back? To that mushroom-infested zombie-filled wasteland?”

“Told her I’d help if she needed it,” said Cole.

Howie chewed his lip for a moment. “I mean, if she needs extra hands, I could be available.”

Hard Tone leered down. “Uh oh, someone’s got a crush on mean mamma Morganstern.”

Howie’s ears started to turn red. “Look, it’s not like I want her to crush me with that hammer or anything,” he said.

“Gross,” said Roxy. Cole coughed into his hand to head off his own laughter.

“It’s just that my mom was a violent psycho, so according to Freud, now I’m only attracted to women who could kill me.”

“Not better, my guy,” said Besson, practically shaking and turning a bit red himself.

Hard Tone looked Cole dead in the eyes. “Airborne, how is Blink not the weirdest person on your team?”

“She’s not even top three,” said Cole, failing to keep his voice from cracking.

“Hey!” said Roxy, who then realized what she’d said, and gave a quiet, “Shit!” which got the rest of them going. Hard Tone just rolled her eyes.

Cole imagined his drills screaming in his face, his sure-fire tactic for killing any trace of humor in the forefront of his mind. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” said Hard Tone, “We managed to extract Black pretty smoothly thanks to your intel. Clean smash and grab. Keep it up.”

“Roger that,” said Cole, giving a quick half salute. “How’d the rest of the teams fare?”

Hardtone nodded to Wes, who flipped over a couple more slides. “Smooth. A few tourist lolly-gaggers when they figured out Beth wasn’t in their range. The last of the teams reported back in late last night. Since Babel Bucks are pooled at the end of every mission in prep for the next one, you’ll all be getting a flat bonus to your next pay stub from DOR, and a second bounty for locating Black. So it might be a little more than you’ve seen so far. Any other questions?”

The rest of Cole’s team shook their heads—except Nona, who simply pushed back her chair in anticipation of leaving.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here,” said Hard Tone.