Archiver Manhunt

Damage Assessment

Four towering street lamps illuminate the numerous tented structures, and sandbag emplacements guarded by militarized law enforcement operatives, that consisted of the Agency's forward operating base.

From inside one of these structures, a number of portable lamps illuminate the suit and infantry dressed personnel working about the interior. The Director sits by the foldable table, keenly analyzing the screen of his laptop.

Before him streams the list of recorded law enforcement casualties on the left side of the screen, aside a seemingly continuous list of estimated opposition casualties to the right.

The Director grins at the sight of the recorded kill-death ratio.

He soon redirects his attention to his mobile phone, ringing and vibrating to the right side of his laptop.

Picking up the handheld communication device, he presses a green button allowing the call to come through, before holding it near his right ear.

"Director?", a deep sounding voice, concealed under a soft static audio background, inquires for his attendance.

"This is him." The Director responds.

"The Drone Flight Wing you requested is now forwarded to your control. Check Email for specifics."

"How many and what armaments?"

"Four unmanned fixed wing drones, equipped with inceneray payloads."

"Excellent. Let me know when the additional assets become available for deployment.

"Acklodged."

The Director presses a red button on his mobile device closing the call, before placing it to rest aside his laptop, where it originally laid.

Redirecting his attention to the screen, he refreshes his email, finding the email previously mentioned.

Opening the message he finds additional details on the craft he's been issued, in addition to the radio frequency to request their support. Further into reading the email he finds their callsigns. Each of the drones named, Reaper One through Reaper Four.

Satisfied with his recently granted support, the Director raises himself from the table.

Within his mental checklist of matters in need of his attention, he proceeds to the next problem in his agenda.

Turning to his mobile phone again, he anticipates an expected phone call.

Not long after the mobile device begins to ring and vibrate, upon the table's plastic surface.

Answering the call, the Director hears a soft young adult male voice announce, "I'm back at base."

"Acknowledged", The Director responds, as he pans his vision around the tented structure.

Noticing a pair of SWAT suited guards at the two entrances of the building, the Director feels confident in the actions he intends on taking.

Soon after a slim pale, dressed in a dark colored business suit, with short dark hair enters through the entrance nearest to him, passing the pair of guards at both sides of the entry point.

"Agent Balzer. Nice to see you again.", the Director welcomes, while waving in the two guards him the agent had just passed.

The agent proceeds to approach the Director, unknowing of the two guardsmen following behind him.

The Director stands from his seat claiming, "Agent Balzer, you are under arrest for terrorist actions against the Colony."

Just as that statement leaves his mouth, the two SWAT dressed men tackle the agent to the cement paved ground.

Tumbling to the ground under the weight of the two armed men, Balzer panicaly questions, "What is this? I did what you instructed me to."

The director looks down towards the restrained agent rebuking, "I tasked you with destabilizing the hybrid population... Not The Entire Fucking Colony!"

Speechless, the agent allows the guards to walk him out of the tented structure.

The Director follows the two men escorting the now handcuffed agent, outside.

Roughly half a dozen militarized and police vehicles lay parked around the other tented structures, in addition to the numerous infantry dressed personnel moving about, greets the Director's sight.

He stops his stroll when he reaches a lone SWAT suited individual, holding security by the corner of the street, behind a sandbag emplacement.

He gazes upon the makeshift militarized atmosphere, before turning his sights down the road, in the direction of the infected area.

Knowing that despite the agent responsible for the Hybrids' recent violent behavior by means of infected their population with an experimental virus, is now in custody, the man responsible holds no knowledge of the biological weapon.

Furthermore he knows the strain itself was recently manufactured, thus no known cure for the symptoms are known to in the Colonial Archives.

He shakes his head in disappointment of the misdirection his agent took to accomplish the mission he had sent him on. Releasing a brief sigh he shares this concerning matter aloud to the guard standing next to him.

"It's a shame that the problem doesn't go away after we catch the one responsible."