Welcome to the Omicron Protocol Story Blog, where we’ll periodically reveal and post new stories about the world and its character through a series of blog posts. Through this blog, you’ll get to know the precarious situation that our heroes (and villains) are in, and what they need to do to survive and get out of San Lazaro. You’ll also get background stories that help you understand why your favorite (and most hated) characters are who they are today.
Rhino was glad to be rid of the do-gooders and on the move. But, as he and the rest of the Dragons walked through Narim, he began to think about the city. It had been messed up before, but now it was totally messed up. And if the Dragons hadn’t escaped, they would have been exterminated by the government. Rhino had never liked the authorities — they were always getting in his way — but now he hated them.
Pai and Gadget were on their own. The others — led by Buck, Cyborg and Lucky — had halted at the edge of Aureus Gate Park while Pai and Gadget advanced to the bridge to hack the entropic disruptor terminal.
Pai was controlling Timmy via her arm-mounted computer, and the drone was hovering just above them. "EFN active. Let’s hope it works as well today." Twenty-four hours earlier, they had tested Dr. Altmann’s device and found that it had successfully shielded them.
Nix lowered his binoculars. "Another team stationed near the junction. What’s that, the seventh?"
"Eighth," replied Bolt.
Two days earlier, the Peacemakers, Survivalists and Creators had all begun to notice small Army teams on the move around San Lazaro. The groups were typically composed of five medics protected by around 10 soldiers and one or two Agency operatives. They seemed to be setting up at strategic locations across the city. Drone reconnaissance by Flyboy and Flash revealed that the entropic disruptor was being temporarily lowered to let each team through.
The spider-shaped device landed with a crack and slid across the table. Buck, Pai, Lance, Flash, Ranger and Bolt all turned to Nix, who had just walked in. He looked exhausted.
"Long night?" asked Bolt.
Nix ignored her and nodded at the device. "That’s from my Agency partner. Inside is a data clip. Mike is warning us to get out of SL before the Omicron Protocol is enacted."
It took a while for Lucky and the rest of Team 1 to be admitted to the 8th Street camp. Understandably, the guards on duty at the converted high school had to be sure the new arrivals meant no harm. Lucky was careful not to mention specifics, claiming only that he needed to discuss a treatment that might help us deal with the virus’. He, Thug, Flash and Cyborg were happy to leave their weapons at the guard post and were then escorted to the school building. They passed dozens of tents and makeshift shelters. The hundreds packed into the school compound didn’t seem overly interested in four new faces.
Cyborg would have preferred to meet his new allies in person but holographic projection was a good second best. He was in one of his mansion’s three studies, gazing across the room at four lifelike, full-size images. After the dramatic events that had transpired at Republic Square, he was glad to at last be face to face – virtually – with Buck and Pai of the Peacemakers and Lucky and Gadget of the Survivalists. Cyborg couldn’t help smiling at the one familiar face.
Nix crept through the bushes, only stopping when he had a good view of the CyMS.
He tapped his earlobe to use his coms implant. ‘Bolt, any more of them in the area?’
The Russian sniper was stationed in a nearby church tower, providing overwatch for the operation. Nix had never tried to capture one of these things before and he didn’t want anything to go wrong. As he’d learned with the Rangers, planning and prep were crucial.
Karina ‘Bolt’ Ivanova walked out of the silent apartment block and sat down on a nearby bench. She was glad that Aunt Nadia had been relocated to a safe zone but disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see her. Hopefully the phone networks would be restored before too long and they could at least talk.
The trucks stopped at the crossroads. Corporal Karina Ivanova - known as ‘Bolt’ on account of her love for sniper rifles – was one of the last out. It had been a bumpy ride; the truck was no military vehicle but some rusty heap ready for the scrapyard. Her unit had only been in San Lazaro for twenty-four hours and there wasn’t enough transportation to move them all.
