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![Fan Fiction](/fanfic/images/fiction.gif)
Red vs. Blue: Reconnaissance (Chapter 2)
Posted By: Stelladea<zaptina211@aim.com>
Date: 28 August 2011, 11:44 pm
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We headed toward the other side of the base, where a bright Red Sergeant was giving orders authoritatively to a brown robot. It seemed to be trying to fix a large black car that looked somewhat like a big cat. Maybe a puma.
"What in Sam hill is going on, Simmons?" the Red chastized. "What was Grif shouting about now?"
"He wasn't trusting this CIA Agent that showed up, sir," Simmons explained.
The Sergeant sighed. "Diabolical." He turned to the brown robot. "Keep up with that, Lopez. I've got to go see what this is all about."
The robot replied with a "Si" and continued repairing the car.
"So, where is that son of a Ben and Jerry now?" asked the Sergeant.
"I knocked him out," I said uneasily. "He was being extremely difficult."
"You knocked him out?" I winced and waited for the worst. "I've been trying to do that all day! All my life, come to think of it. Nicely done, Agent! They should award you a medal for that!"
I stared, astonished, at the leader of the Red team. Did no one like the yellow-orange soldier?
When we entered the Red base, I began to recite my story, wondering if they'd actually believe me. I didn't need any more crap—that Grif had stretched my nerves enough already. "Sergeant, I am here from the CIA on a special mission." It seemed as though Simmons were about to interrupt me, but I rushed on before he could say anything. "After the crash of the Freelancer project, many of the innermost plans were lost, and we require further information so we can form a proper warrant for the arrest of the Director. Because all of you were involved in the project's downfall, I'm going to have to ask that you all cooperate—it will be quite simple. I will need to speak to each of you privately about what you know. If everyone works with me, it will be a simple and easy debriefing."
"Debriefing?" piped in a high voice from the next room. A pink soldier appeared from the kitchen. "Can I help?"
Simmons sighed. "Not that kind, Donut! He's an Agent. He needs information."
"Oh," Donut replied, sounding disappointed. He entered the room wearing a flowery apron. "Care to stay for lunch? I made quiche!"
I stifled a giggle—it would have seemed very odd with the voice-changer. "No thank you, soldier." He ambled back into the kitchen, humming something I couldn't recognize.
"Well then," said the Sergeant enthusiastically, trying to divert the attention away from the pink Private. "The fine Agent that you are, I suppose you'll want to start your investigating right away. We'll go in order from the most important to the least important. I'll be first, then Simmons, then Donut, then Grif. If he's conscious by then, anyway." He sighed happily. "Simmons, why can't you be more like this Agent? He actually gets things done around here!"
Simmons looked down and said nothing, and I could tell he was exceedingly upset. Wonderful.
The Sergeant and I left to one of the back rooms of the base where we would get some peace and quiet, and we sat on opposite ends of a square cement table. I finally began my interrogation.
"Please state your full name."
"Sarge."
I waited for more, but he said nothing. I decided not to press it—there were more important matters to attend to.
"All right then, Sarge," I said, making sure the recording device implanted in my armor was working correctly. A small red light on my arm activated, giving me the go-ahead. "You were present at the Freelancer Agency the day it collapsed, correct?"
"Yes, sir." That was weird too. Being called "sir."
"Please describe your experience there."
As he began to talk, I realized with horror that he really didn't know anything at all about what happened there—at least, nothing more than Command already did. The only useful piece of information I received was that it was them who had erased all the files on the blue team
and all this time Command had been blaming it on a computer crash.
After he was done with the story, I was about to dismiss him, but he insisted on telling me what a superior "soldier" I was and how honored he was to have me here with them. Grif must have been a complete idiot.
After I was done with Sarge, Simmons came in, saying immediately that he hadn't introduced himself properly and that he was Private Dick Simmons, the second-in-command. He emphasized that last part almost warningly, as if cautioning me not to get any ideas just because Sarge thought I was so great.
I asked Simmons to describe his side of the story, and it seemed almost exactly the same as Sarge's. He didn't really know anything useful either.
I took an instant liking to the pink Private (who insisted that he was of a lightish-red color) after that. His Freelancer story involved a lot of sand and a blue guy named Tucker, but I knew that Command was already informed of this incident and had been looking into it for weeks.
He and I finished our session, and I asked for Grif. I had not long to wait; he was already conscious and limped furiously into the interrogation room, showing no signs of cooperation. I sighed; this was not going to be pleasant.
After dragging his full name out of him, he clamped his mouth shut and refused to say another word. Only after threatening him with another K.O. did he speak, saying that he had been with Sarge and Simmons the whole time. That was all I needed. I knew he hadn't seen anything different. He was too stupid (or maybe not stupid at all) to lie to me like that.
He finally left, and I sat back, exhausted. I was already halfway done with my mission, and had received no useful information. After speaking briefly with Sarge, I checked all of their computer databases, but all they had were plans for attacks on the Blues, made-up insults for them, and computer games. What kind of army was this?
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