Isolated (Red vs Blue)

16: Worst Laid Plans

16: Worst Laid Plans

Present Day: Somewhere on the Edge of Colonized Space

By the time the Reds reached their base, Donut found himself limping. Then, as soon as he noticed his limp, he was suddenly aware of the pain in his ribs. When the guys were trying to beat him up, they had apparently hit him more times than he'd originally realized. As soon as everyone had kind of settled in, Doc started working on patching him up. Donut hadn't felt this bad since he'd arrived in Valhalla.

"Can you explain to me how you thought what you did was in any way going to help us?" Grif asked. He was currently leaning against the outer wall of the base with his arms crossed. "Like what was the thought process? I genuinely wanna know. Go ahead and walk me through what you were thinking when you heard our distress call."

Donut thought back on things for a moment. "Well. . . ."

U.N.S.C. Command Center #1357 was buzzing with activity. It had been ever since Donut arrived. The news of the Director's defeat and the official end to Project Freelancer was all anyone could seem to talk about. It made Donut a bit of a celebrity for a short time after his arrival; though his newfound fame didn't last long. It was back to business as usual within only a few days.

Donut was working in the communication center when their radio began picking up a faint signal. He tried to tune the equipment, but the lack of connection didn't seem to be on Command's end. Whoever was attempting to reach them was practically out of range.

"Mayday, mayday! This is . . . Washington with . . . Red and Blue troopers . . . Freelancer! We have been stranded . . . need . . . rescue! Does anyone copy?" A brief pause. "Mayday . . . is Agent Washington . . . distress call. I am a soldier. Over." Another pause. "Is anyone . . . there? Can . . . hear me?"

Donut couldn't believe what he was hearing. If someone was trying to play a joke on him, he wasn't finding it very funny. The voice on the other end sounded like Agent Washington, but the transmission was so spotty that he couldn't be sure.

Hesitantly, Donut responded. "Hello? Who is this? Hello? Is this a prank call? Because this isn't funny."

"No, no! This . . . very real! Please, I really need you to listen . . . me! My men and I have been shipwrecked — we need help!" the voice on the other end exclaimed.

As Donut messed with the controls in an attempt to boost the signal, he could suddenly hear a chorus of voices shouting in the background. The more he listened, the more he realized the other voices sounded familiar as well. His suspicions were confirmed when a very familiar voice yelled, "Code red! Code Red!"

"What? Do you mean like light-ish red?" Donut asked. When there wasn't an immediate answer, he continued. "I only ask because red is a pretty broad spectrum. I mean there's scarlet, and vermillion, and deep burgundy —"

"Donut!" one of the other voices exclaimed. "Donut, is that you?"

"Wait, Sarge?" Donut almost couldn't believe who he was speaking to. It really was his friends on the other end of the transmission. "Oh, hey, guys! It's been a while! What have you all been up to?"

The pink clad soldier listened as the others explained their situation. He was shocked to hear that his friends had never made it to their destination. They were supposed to be going back home — judging by the coordinates Washington gave, they were nowhere close. Something had caused them to go off course, but figuring out how that had happened would have to wait.