Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-COM or Mass Effect games, nor any other games, books or movies that might be mentioned or served as an inspiration of this story. It is not for sale or rent. I make no money of it.

Chapter 4

=X=

Part 5

=X=

20 January 1994

Somalia

Even in January, the weather in Somalia was rather hot by the standards of everyone not accustomed to desert or tropical climate. That little fact made the lives of the US troops managing the quarantine area and the scientists flown in to find what the hell was happening, the next best thing to hell. After all, even at the best of times, the NBC protection gear was hellishly hot and unpleasant to work in.

It was even worse for the poor bastards designated to patrol the area in a search for local survivors, zombies that had wandered out before the first response teams arrived, not to mention they needed to act as a security – against practically everything, from wild animals that might be infected to one of the local warlords deciding to investigate and perhaps grab a few hostages or expensive equipment or even whoever engineered the disaster coming back to check on their handiwork. Humvees and APCs blocked the few dirt paths leading in and out of the area and gunships constantly circled above.

That was the sight that greeted Dr Lam when a Blackhawk commandeered by TF Dagger brought her to the site along with her escort – Major Dutch and a two squad of his soldiers. While the heat in the area wasn't considered enough to make the appearance of Predators likely, no one was taking any chances.

From the air, Carolyn saw hastily erected tents for biohazard fieldwork – they were made of thick plastic and rubber with the field labs sealed as well as possible including a large portable air-conditioning system that among other things ensured a difference in pressure between the lab and the outside world.

The moment they landed, a group of armed soldiers covered in a protective gear out of a Hollywood movie greeted them.

"Major Dutch? Sergeant Kowalski. I need to see a copy of your identification and authorisation papers."

The huge Major nodded as well as he could within his protective gear and picked up a sack containing the needed copies – the originals were safe back in the base where they boarded the Blackhawk. A few minutes of inevitable red tape later, the Sergeant led them away from the landing pad.

"Can you bring us up to speed, Kowalski?" Dutch asked.

"What exactly do you need to know, sir?"

Dutch waved at Carolyn signalling that this was her show.

"Does any of the first responders show any sings of an infection or becoming..." Lam paused as the word initially refused to exit her mouth. This whole thing should have been utterly ridiculous nonsense after all… "zombie?" She managed to spit.

"The last I heard, the fellow who got bitten so far suffers from a mild infection consistent with an animal bite. According to the grapevine he's either responding well to treatment or busy mutating into something straight out of a movie." Kowalski shrugged. "Since there hasn't been an update for us security types hopefully we won't have killer mutants running around anytime soon. There has been no trace of animals acting strangely, the same is true about the locals that those things attacked – they're dead and so far staying that way."

They stopped in front of the field lab, where the Sergeant exchanged a few words with the guards and the Major had to show once again their authorization before Carolyn and Dutch were waved through with the rest of her Dagger guards staying outside.

Soon enough they were past the field decontamination chamber and in the lab itself. It was divided in two parts – most of it consisted of all the bells and whistles a regular hot bio-research laboratory would have. However, to the right of the entrance was an area walled off by transparent plastic and rubber – a small morgue set up for autopsies.

Six people – four men and two women, all in soft protective suits were busy working, with another pair visible in the morgue.

"Mel, it's your turn to deal with the distractions." A grouchy male voice came from the far end of the lab. The closest woman looked up from the microscope she was using and rolled her eyes.

"Dr Melinda Halsey, a pleasure. You don't look like our people? ARMIID?" She walked closer and now her face became clearly visible through the plastic visor. She was a not particularly tall woman with thin features and short read hair. Tired green eyes and streaks of sweat testified that even in the air-conditioned tent the defence gear was the next best thing to a sauna – or your personal oven.

"Dr Carolyn Lam, currently attached to the army." She nodded at Dutch who simply stood behind her and did his best impression of a small implacable hill. "Can you bring us up to speed? What are we dealing with here? A virus? Something bacterial? Perhaps a prion?"

"A parasite actually." Dr Halsey looked around and pointed at a table deeper in the lab. It was covered with large thick metal jars full with various kinds of liquid and all of them held twisted and torn pieces of red and orange flesh. "I wish we had the proper tools to run it a DNA test here but that would have to wait until we're cleared to bring samples to a full-scale lab. Whatever this thing is, it's either heavily mutated, engineered or likely both."

"What does it do, exactly?"

"Well, that's both fascinating, terrifying and should be impossible" Dr Halsey grimaced. "All this is very preliminary, you understand?"

Caroline nodded firmly. "I won't hold you against you." She smiled reassuringly.

"From the autopsies we already completed, it appears that the parasite makes its home in the chest and latches to the spine – from there it takes control and grows into the nervous system, eventually replacing it and hijacking the body. All specimens we've examined so far show that the people have been brain dead for some time, fortunately. From what we've seen so far, it either consumes or alters the organs to fuel its growth and there it gets really weird..."

"Is that the proper technical term?" Dutch asked.

"As good as any – we'll need days, weeks to be really sure, however it seems that the parasite doesn't use the body for fuel after the initial infestation is complete. There aren't enough organs to metabolise food for example. Further, while slow – likely due to imperfect control, there are enzymes in the muscles that strengthen them – yet there wasn't really a sign of atrophy or that the rest of the body is used as a food source. And this is the most interesting and strange part – most of the blood has been replaced by this orange liquid," Dr Halsey pointed at the table they found her working at. "I have never seen something like that." There were sealed vials with orange glowing liquid partially hidden by the microscope. "It's not radioactive – that was the first thing the soldiers checked once they figured out the zombies 'blood' glowed. At least no known radiation – we'll be studying it further. At this time exposure for a long time is not recommended, though it's not like we have much of a choice right now. Besides we all volunteered."

"Time is of essence. Our best guess is that this was a test for a terror bio-weapon. We need to know more – weaknesses, how it spreads, how to contain it and as if not more importantly, to figure out who is behind this." Dutch summarized their mission.

"That's why we're here." Dr Halsey nodded. "Again, I must stress this – preliminary analysis doesn't show any easy way for the parasite to infect other people. In fact, given how its practically fused with the spine, I don't believe it can move to another host. Further, we've found no way for it to reproduce. The working assumption is that whoever made it, which is becoming the more realistic hypothesis with everything we discover, didn't want it to procreate – at least not these specimens. Unfortunately, that also means that right now we don't know how it infested those poor bastards and if it is intended to be weaponized, how it would be done."

"If it is in the chest, there is no need of shooting the zombies in the head like in the movies?" The Major asked.

"From what we've seen so far, that would be pointless – the brain is practically dead. All bodily control is done by the parasite. Shoot zombies in the centre of the chest." Dr Halsey pointed a thumb at her chest, right between her breasts. "It's centred right behind the breast bone, which isn't a bad location – the ribs would provide best protection there. I can't tell you if a bullet grazing it would put one down in a timely fashion – while there are two surviving specimens., we haven't proceeded to test them. Currently, we're monitoring them and once there is more personnel here, we'll test their reactions to stimuli among other things. We'll need a better place for that – I heard that the army is flying in engineers to built us a decent temporarily facility where we can examine them properly."

=X=

Part 6

=X=

20 January 1994

Somalia

Much of the technical discussion flew over Duch's head even if he had been hitting college and above level books in various disciplines that might come in handy in his new line of work. However, he was able to get the important bits anyway – the damn zombies didn't appear to be contagious, at least not as far as the parasite that made them possible was concerned. That said, getting bitten by a ripe corpse wouldn't be healthy anyway so it was to be avoided if at all possible. The things while rather slow were supposed to be tough and strong, though nothing that a few burst in the chest couldn't fix. As far as he was concerned, and he would be reporting it up the chain, these things weren't natural in any way, even if by some twisted turn of fate the parasites were a mere mutation someone found and decided to toy with. The unknown glowing stuff that passed for the zombies blood, the fact that it was the one thing that they might be able to metabolize – apparently, the captured ones refused to eat anything, fortunately that included attempts to bite people once properly subdued, clinched it. Whoever made and released these things had a nice kill-switch built in – once they ran of food they would starve no matter what they ate, if they were willing to eat or drink anything that wasn't said liquid.

That of course raised a simple question…

"If you're right, then why did they attack the villagers?" Dr Lam asked.

"We'll need to study the specimens to figure out what stimuli they respond to. Perhaps there was some kind of noise emitted that drove them into rage or something – not necessary something a human could even hear. The army boys thought to check the container they were delivered with but no joy – the last I heard, it was a standard shipping one, no modifications to speak of." Dr Halsey answered.

"Can I see their blood? I'm a bio-chemist, it might remind me of something..."

And with that, the boffins returned to the very technical aspects of their discussion. Dutch made a mental note to check both on the captured zombies and the soldiers who examined the container, the container itself too. Who new what might be there? If the thing was deemed safe enough, it would likely be shipped somewhere that it could be scoured from end to end for any trace of useful evidence.

=XCOM=

A few unpleasant hours later, none of the boffins were any closer to figuring out something new and more importantly, useful, about the zombies. Dr Lam went away from the equipment she used to run tests on the blood in frustration.

"Let's go see the specimens. At best, we'll need a full fledged lab with all the cutting edge equipment money can buy to figure this out." She glared at an inoffensive piece of machinery.

Soon, they were back with the rest of the TF Dagger escort. Sergeant Kowalski was back too – he led them to one of the more solid buildings in the ramshackle village. The captured zombies were held inside – the three squads surrounding the one story building with weapons on the ready were a dead giveaway. Whatever furniture used to be in there had been cleared out and three metal poles had been hammered in the floor – as far away from the door and each other as space allowed.

"I should warn you, while slow and dumb, they're by all accounts, strong bastards. Stronger than people their size have any right to be. Besides the poor bastard who got bitten, we had two broken wrists, a few fingers and dislocated shoulders while subduing and tossing them up like turkeys." Kowalski explained.

The zombies were three men – two who might have been white but it wasn't certain with their skin being all pastry grey with bulging yellow and orange veins. The third one was obviously black, though there were patches of dark yellow all over his visible skin. They were all tied up to the poles with chains, ropes, even duct tape. At first glance, they all appeared to be dead – for long moments none of the zombies appeared to be breathing, if they were even able to do so. Eventually one rolled its head up towards the now open door and stared at them with unseeing eyes. The right one was milky and obviously blind and the other was bloodshot with the weird stuff that had replaced their blood. It actually sniffed at them – an inhuman sound that came from its chest, before relaxing.

"Fascinating…" Dr Lam muttered. "We'll need to run so many tests..."

Damn, boffins...

=XCOM=

21 January 1994

North African coast

Winter clouds hid the stars and the thin crescent of the moon drowning the Mediterranean in darkness. The tremulous sea parted as a dark blue, almost black shape tore its way through the waves until it drove to a nearby beach that usually didn't see a soul during this time to the year. Silently, the machine made its way to the sand and with a quiet hiss immediately swallowed by the clash of the waves, its front opened to reveal a dimly lit interior. Two figures clad from head to toe in richly adorned dark green ropes rose from their seats and bowed deeply to the far end of the compartment.

A bubbling inhuman voice snapped a command and the duo hurried to grab a backpack from under their seats before jumping into the cold water. Knee-high rubber boots helped a bit and they soon waddled away from the sea. Behind them the submarine's entrance sealed and the craft vanished under the water as silently as it appeared.

"What's the new plan, mate?" The shorter of the two asked in a distinct British accent.

"For now we stay away from the Americas." The other one rasped. "We don't need that much scrutiny and there always are conflicts we can use in Africa and the Middle East. My predecessor got impatient and put us all on the radar. We can't afford to make the same mistakes again. Dagon will raise, however we do have time."

"Then we can go get somewhere warm and dry?"

As in on cue, it began raining snow.

"We should have a contact in a nearby village. First, lets change into something less conspicuous." The new High Priest of Dagon patted his backpack before opening it.

"That is all well and good, but what about our rivals?" The Brit asked. "Our benefactors did intercept unconfirmed reports of an outside interference."

"Didn't you hear? It's confirmed. The mercenary was hired to make an example of my predecessor. That is another incentive to keep a low profile until we're ready. Our rival's masters can ruin everything if they suspect we're about to succeed and that is to be avoided at all costs."

"I thought he was just a rumour to scare initiates?" The Brit removed his robe revealing a lean muscled chest that had rows of greyish scales covering his ribs like overlapping plates of armour. He pulled out a thick cotton blouse from his pack and sighed in relief once he slipped it on. "I'm ready to kill someone for a hot drink."

"Me too." The High Priest followed suit, revealing that most of his body below the chest and above the elbows was covered by either tough looking grey skin or silver scales. "He's no myth." The Priest added. "Our benefactors have been tracking him and those like him for some time. Sometimes I wonder why so many kinds of beings began to turn up all over the place lately. However, their presence explains some of things our new friends are toying with."

"They will provide a stable source of income and armaments then?"

"So they say." The High Priest stuffed his robe into the backpack. "If they fail to uphold their part of the bargain, we'll use them as sacrifices. Until then, we'll facilitate the transport of various obsolete toys from our benefactors to the Syndicate. That's the deal and for the time being it suits us well enough." He patted his backpack again. "That's why once we're settled, you'll meet one of their representatives and bring them the samples."