INNER-WORKINGS
“…So dark and foul I can’t disguise…”
Unmarked location, Guantanamo Bay Naval Base
9 Nov 2019, 0930
…
..
.
Patina can’t believe Gunny brought his TV.
Here she is, driving the Gator with a plus-sized uniformed service member and a full-sized screen sticking out like a sore thumb.
It’s awkwardly secured to his person like essential mission equipment.
Apparently, this is what Gunny considers an absolute necessity.
Gunny picks up on her annoyance and brags about how he was also able to squeeze his Xbox into his three-day assault pack.
He adds along the way why he likes the Bugout brand over the CIF-issued gear.
In between gun caliber reviews and generic critiques on why Thanos is a justified character, Gunny takes sips of water from the hose of his integrated Camelbak bladder.
With no one to blame but herself, she keeps the pedal floored.
By the time they arrive at her place, it’s almost 1030.
The outside is rusty dusty.
There’s a large blister hangar, two metal silos, and a water pump windmill surrounded by empty space.
It’s eerily quiet.
There are a few dozen crows scattered about, resting on dried-up tree branches and rotted out barbed wire fences.
The murder observes quietly, almost judgmentally, as Patina helps Gunny bring the TV to the hangar entrance by holding onto one side.
Hunched over and struggling a bit in opening the door with her key while balancing the TV, she proudly invites him through.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Gunny.”
Chilled air rushes out from inside to greet them, smelling crisp and pleasant.
Inside?
Sumptuous. Penthouse-level.
Gunny works with Patina to carefully set the TV down and away from the entryway.
He straightens up and is hit by everything at once.
The place is immaculate. Comfortable. Expensive.
Nothing about it looks remotely like the decrepit structures they just walked past.
The living room is a dominating space with fluffy full-grain leather couches and coffee tables arranged around multiple TVs and monitors of various sizes.
Each table has a laptop on it..
The two dozen or so displays are elegantly arranged against the wall above a functional fireplace.
Multiple activities play across them.
The kitchen on the far side end is obviously premium: marble countertops, two cooking islands, and you can’t see the fridge as it’s blended in with the tasteful cabinets.
Gunny’s been to the field plenty of times. Some setups out there weren’t too shabby.
But this was a whole other echelon and didn’t make military sense, not even the air-force gets it this good.
Definitely not a 3-bedroom shack.
She’s living like a rock-star.
At this point, he bolts his suspension of disbelief to stay on chassis.
He’s seen an android, a prosthetic-handed super-spook, secret detainees, and enough razzle-dazzle in the last twenty-four hours to fill a Christmas tree bill.
The road’s been rough and he’s not about to start asking questions about the jacuzzi. It looks very fkn nice.
He’s here to work.
He’ll have to be on his “A” game with Waldo.
If he can get the bastard talking, maybe this whole fantasy situation will start to make sense and his involvement earned.
Patina leads him past a central double door that separates the living room from the bedroom area.
“Down this hall’s my room. Both hallway and room are off limits.
Don’t be a creep; keep your clothes on if you’re in the common areas.”
She puts her finger up at him,
“In my years of research I’ve concluded that all men are unnecessarily noisy.
To this stay I still don’t understand it, but I do know I like my house clean and quiet.
If you have to be loud and proud, do it outside like a good devil dog.
Capito?”
She receives a trained “capisco, capisco” from Gunny before she opens a door, “And this’s your room, you like?”
“Oh.”
Gunny likes.
That bed looks plush, it must be heaven. Likely the kind that has sheets and pillows that stay cool throughout the night.
Opposite the bed is a jumbo-sized TV that almost takes up the whole wall space.
It’s at least three times the size of his.
“No way”, Gunny approaches and almost squeals, “Project Scarlett? …this Xbox tower doesn’t come out till next year…”
He touches it. The black plastic feels like something from the future.
On the other side of the room is a desk with a majestic gaming rig and platinum edition La-z-boy chair complete with cup-holder.
The gaming monitor, also, is noticeably bigger than his screen.
Patina knows what he’s going through.
She gets these reactions from people all the time and has learned to just afford them their moment.
Gunny takes off his large backpack with Camelbak attachment, tosses it on the bed, thanks her for the fancy living quarters, it’s all Splenda, and asks if they can go back to the living room.
“Sure”
He leads the way back as she closes doors behind him.
Gunny gets comfortable standing behind a couch and reviews the screens and monitors displaying security-camera feeds from around the property.
Perimeter. Hallways. Kitchens and rooms. Laboratories. Plants and animals. A garage with two white vans in it.
Everything had eyes on and was being recorded.
Some of the cameras show thermal views. Others alternate and take priority on either of the two center big screens from motion detection.
There’s a couple of staff members moving around in separate backgrounds.
Some of the rooms look circular.
Gunny glances out the windows.
The silos next door must connect to the house somehow.
Probably at some points underground.
The top level’s likely the living and work space for staff, with different levels having different themes and functions.
Gunny points to one of the screens.
A buff Asian lady is lifting a heavy animal cage with one hand, while vacuuming underneath it with another.
“Another android?”
“What!? No silly, that’s Khutulun, my animal specialist. She’s a vet from Mongolia.
She keeps the wildlife alive and happy, and helps Nana and I with some heavy lifting here and there.
If you need a gym spot or a sparring partner, that’s who you’d wanna call.”
Patina points over to an old Jamaican lady operating a camera circuit with a soldering iron in some kind of repair room.
“And that’s Nana-Ooman, she’s been with me for at least two decades now.
She facilitates all the basics like”, she counts off starting with her thumb, “food and water, clothes, utilities, cleaning, repairs and supplies.
She’s wonderful. If you’re hungry or something isn’t working right, just ask; she’s got it covered.”
Gunny doesn’t believe she’s not an android also.
She redirects him to another view; two cows, a bull and a calf are grazing in a small plot of grass outside.
“Cave man like you should be happy to know we have that tiny little farm nearby. Steak, chicken, rainbow trout, and of course some Hutia. All fresh.”
The camera panorama moves into view a room with aquaponics and a few freeze dryers.
Next to the system are small barrels of dirt with fruits and vegetables and grow lights.
The remote tracking ends on chickens chillin’ and clucking under a large mesh coop with wheels.
Gunny’s concerned face shows.
“Hutia?”
“It’s good, you’ll like it, I promise.
And of course, we have like two dozen boxes of MREs if you’re into that”
Gunny nods. He’s getting the gist of this place.
“Don’t worry about laundry. Don’t worry about food. Don’t worry about missing out on your Rick and Morty shows.
Don’t worry about anything except—”
She presses a button on the remote.
The two center screen displays change and share the same view.
There’s a cramped concrete room.
Waldo is strapped in what looks like a hospital bed.
A feeding tube runs across his top lip and into his nose.
An IV hangs beside him.
He’s unconscious beneath the effects of anesthesia.
Bottom corner reads: Saturday: 9 Nov 2019: 1044
Patina finishes her sentence.
“—this.”
Gunny slowly works his way to sitting down on the couch.
It’s like range conditioning.
Pit officer yells “Target!” and something to attack is propped up.
Gunny’s trigger finger twitches slightly.
Patina starts pulling out some files out of a nearby closet and puts them on the coffee table next to some other files that were unnoticed before.
“Feel free to peruse, they all have to do with sleeping beauty over there.
The more we know, the smoother this goes.”
The right side main screen flickers to the front entrance camera, showing Darvok parking his white van by the gator.
Patina is pleased, “I love how Marines are always 15 minutes early.”
She opens the door for Darvok, they greet, and he comfortably steps in.
He reads the room and goes for the kitchen.
“Hey gunny guns, I see she must’ve left you hanging there, you as thirsty as I am?”
Gunny answers distractedly, “Whadap D, yeah, just, trying to get up to speed here on our guy and make myself useful.
If there’s any water or soda or black coffee or whatever I’d appreciate it if you’re really offering.”
He was going through info on Waldo; speed reading through files on the table.
So far, nobody knows what his real name or home country is.
“you know, in some countries, the guests are more hospitable than the hosts”, Darvok throws a busy Patina an eyebrow, “If you happen to have a fridge hidden somewhere, would it be okay to ask for drinks?”
She finishes moving another small box of files to the coffee table, straightens up and points, “Those 5 middle cabinets starting from the far right, each one is a fridge.
The one with drinks is the farthest to the left.”
Darvok’s counts right to left and opens the correct integrated fridge.
“Can I fix you something? Nice place by the way, smells like unicorn shampoo”
“Thanks, I’ll have what you’re having”
“Moscow mule it is then”
The front door knocks.
Patina is reminded that it’s never a dull moment with Darvok as an attractive bimboish blonde with aviator glasses and a form fitting desert flight suit is perked at her door.
Patina smiles in amusement, “Come on in, it’s Alexa today right? So sorry, I forgot y’all are inseparable.”
Alexa gives Patina a cheerful, “Che piacere vederti!”, followed with two air-kisses to her cheeks, then walks in reporting to Darvok that she scanned and counted 23 crows.
At least 5 of them have some sort of electronic device attached. “Their behaviors appear unnatural and deliberate.”
Darvok doesn’t sound happy as he put water to boil in the microwave, “How so Alexa?”
Gunny is distracted by Alexa’s glutes as she’s speaking with Darvok, confused who she is.
Something inside of him is trying to click but can’t, like a lighter low on gas.
Patina squeezes Gunny’s shoulder from behind him and whispers near his ear, “He spends so much time obsessing over one-upping the bad guys, a normal relationship would be too inconvenient for him.
Think of that thing as his 24/7 work wife with benefits.”
Gunny quietly argues back, “You’re saying that’s Alex from yesterday!? That overnight he changed his face, sex and got a Brazilian butt-lift!?
That’s the sht fckry going on right now?!”
“I think of it more as a they/them/theirs matter”, She giggles and winks at him and Gunny is left with his mouth open.
Patina gets back to moving materials such as clothing, weapons and items from the closet onto the coffee tables.
Gunny’s working hard at pushing all the weird Darvok and cyborg sht out of his head and focus on reading more about Waldo.
Nevertheless, he does a double take on Alexa from the corner of his eye and appreciates for a moment how far cutting edge tech has come.
Even feels a little jealous of Darvok at realizing he can get the robot to look like whoever and however he wants… …didn’t occur to him before, but can that thing actually…-?
-Gunny gave up thinking about the bot as a list of weird names commanded his attention.
Some agent coded as Malachite looks to have put most of it together and translated to English.
Yugo. Guru Yoddha. Cassandro. Dhoruba. Manabii. Nasir. Baqlawa.
Darvok’s still engaging Alexa,
“Right. That makes sense. Ask Patina if you can backup her camera system for up to a year. If cool, then reconcile all events with Waldo and these crows and get the answer.”
Alexa turns around to ask a busy Patina but she was already paying attention and immediately tells her to go ahead.
The android plugs a device into the security drives and links into the live feeds and a year’s worth of recordings.
The bot updates the team after uploading, “A month and a half ago, the crows started appearing throughout the general East cuba area. They are not native to this island.
Waldo is first recorded 6 days after.”
Darvok follows through, “We catching any of their frequencies right now?”
“Yes, two of them. The closest to this location.”
“Patch the nearby cams or use whatever juju you got to pick up and display those frequencies.”
“Yes sir.”
The two big screens light up with staticky images coming from the crows.
Through the snowy distortion, the hanger and silos can be made out.
Crow two has a different, closer angle as it’s resting on the creaky windmill.
Gunny’s eyes are wide open.
Patina sets some boots down, the last of the closet materials, and sits.
Uncomfortably surprised and simultaneously amazed at the crow POV on her screens.
Darvok joins them, balancing a tray of drinks and sets it down on their respective tables.
A double-layered glass mug full of black coffee for Gunny, and a Moscow mule readily accepted by an upset Patina.
He sits down with them, thinks a moment, sips his mule.
“We got those 6 dragon flies at ready?”
Alexa corrects from behind their couch, “5 available and at the ready sir, one is already active in high up circle surveil mode”
“K, we got what we need then.
Let’s release 3 to follow them around and relay what it can for us.
See what happens.”
“Yes sir. Activating prompts… …Done, 2 dragon-drone flies have been sent out to track the murder of crows at our location. 1 has been sent to explore and alert to other murders in the area.
Adding extra following distance and avoidance protocols to all of them to lower risk of loss; these are birds after all.”
Darvok is satisfied, “Good looking out. Add a non-tops carousel slide show for the dragon-drones on the one furthest top left. Put the crows view in the same manner on the screen underneath that one.
Keep Waldo’s room shot in the center. Now ask permission to Patina if you can learn the layout and inventory of her kitchen for domestic support services.
Before Alexa can ask, Patina lets her know it’s okay with a thumbs up, “I trust you and Darvok dears, la mia casa è la tua casa, both of you don’t need to ask anymore.”
Alexa does as told and goes to explore the kitchen, the TV screens pull up Waldo’s live feed and the top left dragon-fly and crow POV recordings as she does so.
Darvok asks Patina, “permission to smoke chief?
Patina, momentarily defeated and reluctant on her couch at seeing her home through a lens she did not put up, agrees.
“You earned one Darvi… ..hell, pass me one of your nasty bidis also. Don’t ask me again. Next time, go outside.”
Darvok lights up and gets to inspecting and disassembling Waldo’s hefty revolver, making a makeshift ashtray with one of the gun’s parts.
Darvok bluntly tells them this is the sht he’s talking about as a neodynium magnet quickly snaps and sticks to his hand from inside the gun.
“When I say this guy is different, I mean that he’s the only threat I’ve ever had to treat as borderline supernatural to keep on his trail.”
He feels the weight of the weapon after removing other parts, feels much lighter,
“Just stay calm, and carry on troops. Don’t let him get to ya; he’s only human, after all.”
Darvok flips a part of the weapon over to the other side and continues to study it.
“Y’all hungry?”
Patina says yes. Gunny is buried deep in files and didn’t hear what he said.
Patina answers ditto for him.
Darvok asks Alexa if she has what’s needed to hook them up with some sandwiches.
“Yes sir.”
“That’s my girl, carry on and execute”
The crew spends the next hour busy going over Waldo’s records and physical effects.
Darvok notes the weapon was loaded at time of arrest.
There’s some ammo of different shotgun shell types in a zip-lock bag.
In another zip-lock bag there’s a dark brown bracelet with 6 crosses, he puts it on, tries to feel something from it.
He then continues scrutinizing the gun parts.
Gunny’s also going over material, occasionally using a laptop to look up words, learn more about items and brands, etc.
He comes across a small yellow Pikachu-Tamagotchi. Corporate and religious symbols drawn all over a beat up case with equally weathered glasses inside.
Some kind of ghillie suit umbrella. And is currently inspecting a large tube looking thing with a small hollow in the middle.
Patina pulls up a recent file with a medical and lab report, complete with x-rays, and shares with them.
“Subject is a male of unknown age remarkable for human immunodeficiency virus , a total penectomy with bilateral orchiectomy, absence of left hand ring and pinky digits, and advanced titanium and gold implants in jaw and left femur. Eunuch displays replacement of testes with Brass substitutes, and detachable phallus STP (Stand-to-Pee) device.
Moreover, there’s substantial evidence of widespread Peripheral neuropathy.
Blood type: O pos. Ethnicity/DNA: genetic ancestry consistent with populations associated with Kurdistan.”
The x-rays Patina’s holding confirm Waldo’s metal femur, jaw, and parts of his left side skull as abnormal.
“In short, he’s got no schlong and balls, but does have HIV.
He was treated and healed with higher quality care and materials, and whatever nerves he has left that work right now should be causing him pain.
Darvok chuckles proudly, “Nice, looks like I blew his junk off too.”
Patina claps back as she rechecks the medical report, “negative ghost rider, the indication here is that his junk was removed before, likely surgically. It’s an older injury.
Darvok shakes his head and leans back to think, “well ain’t that something… …maybe if was wired off by our guys, camp tiger eye was practicing all kinds of angry interro-kinky techniques back in the day.”
Gunny asks, “So like, how does he piss?”
Patina looks at him, a little grossed out, “You’re fondling it Gunny”
Gunny immediately drops it, beet red in embarrassment and some kind of anger.
Darvok smirks wide and doesn’t help, “That’s hilarious mate, Yo, what’re you doing!? I’m sure it’s not gay if you hurry up and wash off within the next 30 seconds.”
Gunny gets up quickly to the kitchen sink.
Alexa gracefully moves out of his way as he hurried through, a tray of sandwiches successfully kept balanced on her hand.
Darvok thinks out loud while probing the open gun.
“You said Kurdistan DNA eh? That placed was authorized to be locked in conflict until a final solution is figured out; that mountain warfare’s a btch…”
He hunches back over his coffee table and admires the geometrically different recoil chamber design and is dazzled.
“If I’m not mistaken, our little scrapper wants his revolver to act like a mini sawed off shotgun. Makes sense, to have multi-situational rounds and not worry about his wrist.”
Some goo slips out the gun. Darvok smells it, handles it, pinches it between his fingers… …Oobleck for some kind of shock redistribution?
Gunny comes back, wiping his hands on his pants.
Darvok looks over to the umbrella near gunny’s table, “Oh, this is real clever. Gunny, you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Gunny picks up on the hint and re-inspects the umbrella’s potential double role and finds internal threads on one end and replies,
“The portable ghillie suit and umbrella is also an extended barrel. Smart. It’s all in his M.O. of adapt and overcome.”
Gunny keeps to himself that he’s getting the impression that Waldo studied advanced physics and material science at some point, but nothing on paper supports that.
Darvok nods, “This is his gun. There’s no other like it, making it truly his.”
Darvok tears into his sandwich with his metal hand, while keeping his eyes and other hand engaged on the tore-down weapon.
Patina takes a break and eats her sandwich while looking at the activities on the screen.
Extra carefully.
Gunny feels more comfortable seeing everyone start eating first, and takes a bite out of his first bot made sammich.
It’s the absolute best one he’s ever had.
Just like his wife makes it but, slightly better?…
There’s no way it could know this though, could it?
He dismisses this thought and doesn’t want to think about Alexa possibly being able to gather and use his data without his knowledge and expressed consent.
He takes another bite and enjoys his moment of taste bud bliss with his eyes closed.
Then takes more bites, until it’s harder to chew.
The crew continues for another half hour reviewing material.
Gunny gathered he speaks over 4 languages, and has had over 300 villages and incidents tied to him throughout Africa and Eurasia where he may or may not have personally been a part of.
Gunny broods; this guy doesn’t like to be seen as an individual, he identifies as something else and leads by example.
His goals clearly use theft and violence on businesses, government buildings and banks as a means to his ends.
Sometimes elaborate, sometimes straight forward.
He admits to himself that Waldo is genuinely intimidating, and understands better where Patina was coming from when she recruited him.
Patina re-reads a file that touches on an exclusive Hotel in Brasilia that Malachite had raided just two weeks ago.
Wealthy families were systematically robbed not of their cash, but their entire net-worth. A few were killed, others vanished.
The sophistication of that level of op has her captivated.
This is the same animus that got Kupfer killed.
Darvok, with the gun in a FUBAR state inside a ziplock bag, is researching the meaning of the 6 crosses on the bracelet he’s wearing but coming up empty.
He gently bends the gold one back into its original cross shape, “Alexa, what could 6 crosses on a bracelet mean?”
“For devout Christians, Catholics, and over 40 thousand distinct denominations, the cross symbolizes unquestionable faith, love, salvation, and forgiveness to obtain access to eternal peace and avoid eternal damnation. Eternal peace is typically granted by a third-party sacrifice, Jesus, to a third-party paternal authority figure, God, that is commonly argued to be the same entity.
Themes of full inclusion to this ideology are truly earned usually after individual and collective acceptance of submission to authority, obedience to authority, sacrifice as directed by authority, and death before a form of rebirth or relocation is allowed
Furthermore, by openly admitting grievances and sins to a religious agent of authority, it aids in poss–
“–Stop. How would an Übermensch look at it.”
“That level of critical perspective requires substantial nuance.
To best assist, please provide permission and more information, such as materials.”
“Granted for 2 minutes. Band is braided 550 chord and twirled leather.” Darvok goes over each, “and the crosses go from stone, gold, copper, iron, some kind of carved seed or wood… …and this last one looks to be made out of a phone chip.”
Alexa replies systematically,
“Removing all applied mythologies around the cross symbolism, the core communication is pain and suffering for defying authority.
The perspectives of Übermensch, anarchist, and other ideologies related to individual sovereignty and revolt are perennial threats to established hierarchical mechanisms of control.
Exempli Gratia; Spartacus and Jesus habited the same cultural environment and would have had to overcome the psychological warfare factor of the cross.
My deduction would be that the bracelet is related to that level of ubiquitous conflict throughout human history.
A similar effect could have been accomplished had a noose, electric chair, rifle, or even… …flame symbol been used.
Due to practicality and popularity, the use of crosses makes sense.
Of note, both wood and cpu chips are considered to be amongst the rarest things in the universe.
Is there anything else I can do for you? Perhaps you would be interested in me attempting to read the chip?”
Darvok leans back, processing what she just said, “I’d be a fool not to listen to you girl. Here.”
Darvok puts his hand up and the bimbo bot lifts her glasses and puts her face closer, invisibly scanning and virtually deconstructing the chip with her advanced halo-ring laser eyes.
“Instruction set architecture is STD-1750A at Military Specifications on an IBM AP-102 cpu chip.
There are traces of JOVIAL language, no dynamic mem, and wider gates to aid in reliability against radiation and environmental hardening.
Error correcting codes specifically written to correct for wobbling gobbling effects.
Chip was manufactured in East Fishkill and programmed in Owego New York.
All indications are that this chip came from a Lockheed F-117 Nighthawk.”
“Is that right, how many of them shot down?”
“One. Yugoslavia. Plane Under operation Allied Force/Noble Anvil.”
Darvok squints his eyes, “Name of plane?”
“Something Wicked”
Darvok gets back to admiring the trophy bracelet on his wrist and keeps his smirk to himself.
“So this guy is strutting around with extra fly mil-spec chips just like you my little wobblin goblin’, eh?”, he slaps her BBL.
“Yes sir”
“Gather info on this incident. Set alarm for 2100 tonight, I’d like a summary story before bedtime.
Intro conflict, main characters, background environment, plot holes, thematic subtexts, happy endings, the works.”
Gunny is in his own world, detached from everything around him.
He just spent 5 minutes analyzing a pair of extremely worn down USMC boots, and identified them as MCCB’s from around 2002-2003, matching the Iraq-Afghanistan war timeframe.
There’s some dark staining and brown gunk on it. He smells it, like metal.
Patina notices him confused and tells him, “It’s old blood. Probably from the Marine that was wearing them.”
Gunny winces.
He’s motivated to the core to get this psycho for what he has, and save countless lives and national integrity while he’s at it.
The audacity of tricking my corps out of its Marines, killing them, and then wearing our sacred boots.
This low-life mthrfkr.
Blessed to receive this mission; gonna do it with gusto.
He checks his watch, 1240, “When do we wake him up?”
Patina and Darvok check their times and nod.
Bout that time.
“One sec, Alexa, get the bag. I have a feeling we’re going to need it.”
Patina leads them to a door inside the pantry that turns out to be an elevator.
They go 5 floors down.
bing-bing, boop.
vvvvvvvvv