“Is that it?” asked Buck, sounding disappointed.
Pai had just hit the last key, sending the tight beam signal.
“What did you expect?” she countered. “Fireworks?”
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.
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.
Lady Rose listened carefully as Rhino updated her. The last she’d heard, he and Gudu — working alongside Crimson, Zephyr and Beater — had broken into the abandoned mansion that overlooked the Creators’ headquarters. Here, they were close enough to receive data from the bug Zephyr had planted in Dr. Altmann’s implants. They had also observed the arrival of Flash and overheard the discussions of the plan to negate the entropic disruption field.
Cyborg had suggested they use only audio for the call. With almost every member of the Creators, the Peacemakers and the Survivalists taking part, the holo-call system would be overwhelmed. Gathered with him in his office around his computer were Hiko, Threads, Kuklacı, Flyboy and Flash. Plate was still on guard duty. The exhausted Dr. Altmann was still resting.
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.
‘Are you sure about this, Buck?’
Pai looked across the table at the veteran police officer. The pair were alone in one of the station’s interview rooms, a laptop on the table in front of them.
‘We can’t go on like this forever,’ Buck replied. ‘These guys seem to be on our side. We were fortunate that the Purge Script ended up in our hands. Now it’s time to take action.’
The fog rolled in with remarkable speed. Thug, Sergiy and Flyboy found themselves suddenly surrounded by the ghostly white. They were less than a hundred feet from the drop coordinates.
‘Is this a good thing or a bad thing?’ asked Thug.
‘If anyone else is here, they won’t see us,’ said Flyboy.
‘True,’ said Sergiy. ‘But we won’t see them.’
‘Wait,’ said Flyboy. ‘I hear something.’
‘A drone?’ asked Thug.
‘Maybe.’
To: Interested Parties
From: Friends
If you are receiving this transmission, you clearly possess specialist equipment and knowledge. We are exploiting a weakness in the communications blackout surrounding San Lazaro but only have a short window of time to communicate. We are contacting you to present an offer that can benefit both sides. We do not currently wish to identify ourselves but please be assured that our intentions are good. Our aim is to cooperate with individuals and groups such as yourselves and work towards solving this crisis.
Buck was on afternoon patrol with Lance when the message came in from Flash. He was actually quite glad of the interruption. Lance was a nice enough guy but he did talk a lot about how the Regal Canadian Cavalry was the best police force in the world. Buck was less pleased when Flash explained the reason for his message:
There hadn’t been much time to pack. Flash’s neighborhood had been evacuated by the army two weeks into the crisis and all he had with him was what he’d been able to throw into his car. He’d remembered most of the important stuff: his expensive collection of suits, his 1985 Thorens turntable, his jazz collection and his revolver. He’d also risked a drive down to Republic Square to liberate his drone, which he knew might prove crucial. Fortunately, the skeleton crew on duty had allowed him access to the tech stores. But in his haste, Flash had forgotten to take any spare batteries.