Log:A Breach in the Case, Scene 20

A Breach in the Case 2016/10/16 	 Rick Griffin Indira Quiet

20

LAST TIME ON ZERO DIVISION:

Quiet finally appeared in Indira's office in mid-goosing of Rick Mason's butt as he glared angrily at the door to the office, practically daring Starguard agents to re-enter the room and take him kicking and screaming into the night. Indira and Griffin - with the help of Indira's VI assistant, Aridot - have been slogging through the massive filestore that Indira stole from Operation Sundial. Their investigation thus far has done little to reassure Rick that he is, indeed, still something that can be considered human.

More importantly, however, Indira and Griffin have finally begun breaking down valuable intelligence files from the datacache. Indira has been reading files on two groups - Task Force Six Bravo and Task Force Four Echo - who appear to be strongly entwined in Operation Sundial's origins and, more pressingly, in the reason that Rick Mason was killed(?) in Afghanistan and brought into Operation Sundial's folds. Her research thus far is constrained by internal redactions and the fact that Griffin Freeman has attracted both her attention and that of Aridot.

Our primary researchers, thus far, have fixed their attention upon an image file that was taken approximately 12 years AFTER Rick Mason's official death in Afghanistan. He appears alive and well in the image, alongside a group of several other soldiers. All of the soldiers in the image are clad in uniforms and emblazoned with patches identical to those our intrepid heroes found Rick in when they freed him from Operation Sundial's sarcophogus.

Aridot has, thus far, identified a large number of alterations to the image. Once outlined by the VI, it is blatantly obvious to everyone that someone has doctored a dead body and blood smears out of the image; our professional soldiers, however, can also see that several weapons have been doctored out of the image file. For the moment, Aridot is attempting to un-doctor the image and restore the original file for examination.

Griffin, of course, is not content with merely securing this important piece of intel. He's already scrutinizing the image for more data and has found something even more potentially provocative than anything else the team has discovered so far... At least, provocative to Rick.

We now return you to ZERO DIVISION.

Indira is more focused on the obvious issue with the image; that of the dead body that was photoshopped out. She frowns in that slight manner of hers. Not a full frown, but just a slight downturn of the corners of her mouth. "Is this what is called a White Ops group?"

Quiet watches over Indira's shoulder. That bodies were removed is only concern at their removal, not presence. Similarly, the weapons. Indira may be on point with her deductions, but Quiet neither donfirms nor denies them. She is rather surprised by it, and the terminology, but a conspicuous reaction would provide a possible answer she's not prepared to give at the moment.

Griffin double-checks his suspicions. This has suddenly become a worse case scenario.

He'd heard horror stories about scopolamine use in Coloumbia. The flowering plant was on many street corners, children played with the seeds- yet it was a chemcical so potent that jsut breathing in the pollen could give you strange dreams.

There's no telling how potent the derivative created by the bastards at Operation Sundial is. But it's likely leagues beyond the powders used in the terrible stories he's heard.

.o0(How do you even tell some one this....Should I even tell him at all? God damn, I'm gonna punch someone at Sundial in the throat.) He thinks to himself as he triple checks the scleral irritation of Rick's eyes in the photo.

"Fuck." He says simply as his shoulders sag and a sneer crosses his face.

He turns around and says, "Well I've got a viable theory as to why you don't remember this."

He leans back against the desk and adds, "But we may want to nail some things down first- you aren't gonna like it, Mason."

"Yeah, like I've liked so much since 20 February 2064," snipes Rick at Griffin. He turns around slowly, still visibly sulking in spite of Quiet's emergency butt pinching escapades. Rick folds his arms across his chest and growls darkly at the trio of prominent datapanes displaying him and what appears to be his squad(?) from the late 2020's.

Quiet backseat assesses pointing at both the space at the soldier's feet and to another blank spot next to and behind Rick in the image. She taps out on her right forearm and her holo displays.

THE BODY COULD ONLY HAVE BEEN A SPECIFIC HVT. THERE IS A MISSING TARGET AND A MISSING TEAM MEMBER. WHY ALLOW MOST BUT REDACT ONE?

Indira reclines in her seat and interlaces her fingers as she studies the image. "A physicianed image?" the alien ambassador mis-translates. She looks over at the processing window as Aridot chugs along on its task, then back to the redacted image. Taking a moment to read Quiet's displayed message. "Please, what is...HVT?" she asks for a translation.

"A High Value Target." Griffin says. "The person this team was sent in to put down."

He turns to Rick Mason and sighs before asking, "You ever heard of the Borrachero tree?"

Rick stares blankly at Griffin.

"Is that like the mooseundskverril tree?"

"Not quite Boris." Griffin says chuckling.

"Its not really a surprise. Not a common plant in North America- in fact the only reason I knew about it is because I had an old CO who had Colombian family. He loved to tell horror stories about 'The Devil's Breath'." He says beginning to explain. "It's really quite a beautiful plant- the chemicals its evolved to survive are breathtaking. But I'm getting away from my point.

The reason it's got such an ominous name is because you can make a tasteless and odorless powder with these plants. Once imbibed the subject becomes so 'compliant' that some people even helped their assailants rob them. Carrying their own stereo equipment out the door, or emptying their own accounts at an ATM then handing over thier car keys.

After hearing those stories I always took an interest in some of those medical reports. And these..."

He pushes the zoomed in eye to the large screen. "tell me you had some kind scopolamine exposure. I can't say how much or how long. Just that if this is what I think it is- it was 'prolonged' exposure."

Indira can't help but look a little offended at the misuse of a plant with similar properties to herself. "That...is awful. To use a plant in such an insidious way." That may be a bit hypocritical of her to say, but she would never use her own biochemistry to commit crimes.

Still, her expression is a mixture of troubled and guilty. The plant is closer in relation to her species than humans, after all. She purses her mouth and falls into silent contemplation.

Quiet isn't thrilled about the thought of unwilling soldiers, either. Very much not. Her faceplate pans to Rick after Griffin's reveal, but also obscures any expression.

"Scopolamine? I've heard of that," intones Rick. He folds his arms across his chest again as Griffin enlarges a section of the image file. One hand drums fingers on the bicep of the other arm as he eyeballs the mass enlargement of his own eyeball.

Of course, Rick is /NOT/ the team medic for a very important reason.

"No I'm pretty sure I'm right here. And we just know that normal chemicals don't effect you- stuff we all encounter in day to day activities. But I've always suspected that there were some chemicals that effected neurotransmitters that might still effect you- maybe not for as long as a normal person but still effected nonetheleess." Griffin explains.

Indira shifts uncomfortable in her seat, causing the leather to creak. "That...is not entirely accurate, Mr. Mason," she reminds of an incident from sometime back that involved Rick wrecking the locker rooms downstairs.

"That..."

Rick pauses, his brown eyes fixing on Indira between a few datapanes. His expression softens slightly before he looks away, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

In a markedly quieter tone of voice, Rick comments, "That doesn't count, Indira, and you know it."

"Are you sure?" Indira asks carefully in a soft tone. "Could not this other chemical also be an exception?"

Rick flushes slightly at Indira's questions.

He keeps looking off to one side, pointedly avoiding meeting anyone's gaze.

"How would we get interstellar scopolamine?"

Quiet's fingers fly again as she types. GRIFFIN'S RIGHT. THE INDICATORS ARE THERE. She points at the image, then types further. ONLY FOR RICK. THE OTHERS WEREN'T DOSED OR SHOWED NO SIGNS. THEY WERE ALREADY COMPLIANT.

"What I am meaning to say is, how can you be sure you are immune to all chemicals? Have you tested all? Including this Scopo-la-mine?" Indira has to break down the word carefully to say it correctly with that heavy accent of hers.

Griffin is quiet. Listening to the others help Rick accept what he's found.

He watches his friend, and if there were something he could say to make it better or easier to deal with he'd say it.

"Blood and tissue testing?" offers Rick. He nervously shifts his weight, glancing off toward a blank wall. It's a very attractive shade of off-beige, Rick will have you know.

"They... They ran a lot of tests on me when I first..."

Rick swallows thickly, shoving his hands into his pockets as he pivots on his feet. It's just a short series of ninety degree pivots until Rick, eventually, ends up facing the others. Brown eyes scan from face to face until he settles on staring at Griffin.

"Modern Warfare Jesus? Is that some special rank?" Indira asks, mystified as she looks around to the others. "Perhaps Rick is correct, then. Are there alternatives that could do the same as this chemical? Since Rick has been tested with it and found to be immune."

"Well Lord, there you have it." Griffin says with a chuckle, clearly trying to lighten the news.

"You know as well I do Rick that no armor is perfect. If there was one chink- there are others." He says- either that, or its a clone. Or you're a clone. better to hear though."
 * he points his thumb at the picture being processed* Can't imagine that's any

He silences a message on his CommBracer to keep his attention on the task at hand.

"Well I..."

Rick trails off. He frowns slightly as his attention shifts to Indira. The Undead Soldiers sees what she just did there.

Folding his arms across his chest, Rick offers a dull grunt and a snort.

"Alright. So they dosed me with something in the scopolamine family and it stuck. What does that tell you guys? Does this change anything about..." Helpless, Rick gestures broadly at himself and the endless supply of datapanes surrounding Indira's desk. "... all of this?!"

Indira opens her mouth, then closes it, tapping her foot in thought. "I suppose, it does not change anything. Nor does it clarify if that is really you," she admits.

"You are right, Rick. Perhaps, it does not matter how you came to do the things in this photo. We do not even know what it is that was done," Indira motions to the edited bodies. "If you say you do not recall this, I believe you," she says confidentally. She shifts her seat, spinning slight and saying, "Aridot, how is your progress processing that last file?"