Chairman: Dear Director. We can all understand that the shift from autonomy to oversight can be a difficult adjustment for anyone, but especially someone of your standing. In that spirit, we have attempted to accommodate your brief explanations to our serious inquiries. Nonetheless, I feel compelled to inform you, that even our trust has its limits.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

At a base in grassy canyon, Washington is talking to a soldier with the rest of the group a few yards away.

Private: Sorry Sir, those are my orders. No-one can approach the crash site. You can't come in. Sorry.

Washington: I need to see that ship. Check my clearance if you need to.

Private: I know sir, but, it won't matter. They said I can't let anybody in. Anybody.

Washington: I have orders from Command, Private.

Private: So do I. These came from the Director himself. ...Look sir, I'd- I'd like to help you, I really would, but this investigation thing... apparently they've started talking to people within the Recovery force. Now everything's getting locked down. You get Command to call me and tell me different, I can let you in. Until then, there's nothing I can do. You can use Red Base if you wanna make some calls. That facility's already been swept.

Washington: Fine, I understand.

Washington walks back to the Blues, Slade, and Kan.

Washington: (sighs) We have a problem.

Caboose: I hope it isn't a math problem.

Washington: They've got the crash site locked down.

Church: Oh great. We couldn't have found that out on the radio? We had to walk here?

Slade: Do you ever stop bitching?

Church: You ever stop being a jackass?

Washington: They said we could use this base if we want.

Church: Wow, the empty concrete base? Is it our birthday?

Caboose: I want cake.

Kan: (puts his hand on Caboose's shoulder) Later, friend.

Church: Can't we find somewhere nicer to hang out? Hey maybe there's like a, cool nightclub nearby that you can't get us in to either. That would be awesome.

Slade backhands Church to the ground.

Church: OW!

Washington: You three just, stay here. Cal and I will go draw off the guards. When we give you the signal, use that grav-lift.

Church: The what? How do we use it?

Slade: Just step into it. It'll do the rest. Meet us at the ship.

Church: Okay, what's the signal?

Church turns around, and Washington and Slade already gone.

Church: God dammit, I hate when they do that.

Caboose: When they do wha- hey! Where's Agent Washington and Slade?

Later, Church, Caboose, and Kan are standing on top of the base.

Kan: I don't suppose either of you have a clue what they'll do a distraction?

Church: Who knows, probably, like, you know, make a noise, or throw a rock. That's what I would do.

In the distance a vehicle is blown in to the sky and a siren starts sounding.

Church: ...Or he could do that.

Caboose: I think he is better at distractions than you are.

Kan: (chuckling) Agreed.

Slade: (over the radio) Alright, got your arses over here. Quietly, though.

Church: Okay, let's go.

Caboose: Um, yes, I don't want to. Uh, you see I am scared of the thing that I don't know what it is.

Kan: I am slightly hesitant as well.

Church: Oh, don't be a couple of babies. How bad could it be-

Church steps in to the grav-lift and is hurled wildly through the air.

Church: -eeeeeeeeeeeee!

Church lands, bounces, skids, hydroplanes, and eventually smacks up against the side of a jeep behind two soldiers, making "oof" sounds the whole way.

Church: Thatwasfuckingbullshit!

Soldier 1: Did you just say somethin'?

Soldier 2: ...Whuh?

Washington: We said quietly! What part of quiet don't you understand?

Church: What part? How 'bout the part where I got thrown eighty feet in the fucking air, by the GOD DAMN THROWING THING!?

Later, they hide behind a boulder as a tank rolls by.

Washington: They didn't see us, okay. Stay out of sight. Do you recognize this ship?

Church: Yeah, this looks like it.

Caboose: Sheila? Sheila. Are you okay?

Washington: Um... what is he doing?

Church: Oh, yeah we uh, we transferred our tank's training program in to the ship, so that it could help us repair it.

Washington: Did you inform Command that you moved the program to the ship?

Church: Yeah, we're not really big on paperwork.

Slade: Among other things....

Church: Come again?

Washington: That's actually a good thing in this case. If they don't know it's there, they may not have tried to activate it. Cal, help me with this.

Wash and Slade yank open a panel in the ship and something slumps out that turns out to be a diagnostics screen.

Washington: Ah ha, here we go.

Sheila: (lethargically) Hello, and thank you for activating the- wait, where am I?

Caboose: Sheila?

Washington: Program, instruction. Run a full diagnostic, and load the logs from your last flight.

Sheila: Affirmative. Excep-exception: the system has taken dam-taken damage. I am functing- I am functioning at minimum capacity-ity-ity-.

Washington: Program, instruction. Override exception and-

Caboose: Do not talk to her like that, she is not a program!

Washington: Whoa. What? Calm down.

Church: Hey, I'm just gonna... stand behind Caboose, for a couple minutes. You know for safety reasons.

Slade: Piece of advice, mate: don't piss off Caboose. He's like the blue-Hulk.

Washington: (looks at Caboose) ......Right.

Sheila: Port engine destroyed.

Washington: Okay. I only want to replay the logs from the crash. So can you please get it-

Slade clears his throat.

Washington: I mean her, to do that.

Sheila: Stabilizer offline.

Caboose: Sheila, um, would you go ahead and do that ah thing that he just said, to me?

Sheila: Begin-beginning playb-playback.

The screen starts playing the log, with a warning siren and sounds of things hitting each other in the background.

Sheila: Warning. Warning. System failure.

Tex: Sheila! Damage report, now!

Sheila: Port abort, destroyed. Rear stabilizer offline. Navigation, offline. And my system clock does not match interior records.

Tex: Did Gamma get loose?

Sheila: Negative, but I do not know how much longer I can contain him.

Tex: Computer, what about there? In the canyon, can we land?

Sheila: Analyzing data.

Tex: Just tell me, can you get us there?

Sheila: I am unable to calculate-

Tex: Sheila, give me manual control, now!

Sheila: Acknowledged. Manual control, activated. Warning: decompression. Rear doors, open.

Tex: Where're they going? Close the hatch!

Sheila: Rear doors open.

Tex: Wait!

Sheila: Acknowledged. Warning.

Tex: What happened to-

Sheila: Altitude critical. Brace for impact. Brace for impact.

Tex: Hold on everyone!

Sheila: Brace for impact.

Tex: Hold on! Everybody just hold on-

The recording ends with a sustained beep.

Tex: (in Slade's mind) And the Oscar for 'Best Death Faking' goes to...

Slade: (in his mind) Oh, please love. If I didn't tell you my idea you'd be dead for real. Or even worse, brainwashed into helping Maine.

Theta: (gulps) I feel suddenly uncomfortable.

Washington: Okay, so after that the ship crashed here. And from what a survivor told us the Blues got here first and offloaded the bodies and equipment. Then they started to get infected.

Caboose: Infected? What were they doing with the bodies?

Church: Gross, shut up.

Caboose: No really, what were they doing with the bodies?

Kan: Don't overwork your mind, my friend.

Washington: They said their men started acting erratically. And for some reason they destroyed all their radios and their own comm tower.

Church: Okay, okay. That was definitely Omega.

Washington: You had a similar experience?

Church: Yeah, similar? Exactly the same.

Washington: It all adds up then. Omega was the one who inherited that trait. During training they discovered he could move from suit to suit. For some reason he preferred Agent Texas. They tried to reassign him but he always made his way back to her somehow.

Church: So where's your A.I.?

Washington: I don't have one anymore. It's a long story, but it's why I was chosen for this job.

Church: Okay, okay I knew I had heard your name before. You're that guy that went nuts, right?

Slade: Wash didn't do anything. His A.I.... lost control of itself.

Church: Riiight. It just happened to do it while it was inside his head.

Washington: Right.

Caboose: We have a lot in common, Agent Washington.

Washington: No we don't. And don't ever say that again.

Church: Where's Tex's body?

Washington: According to the prisoner, it should be in Blue Base.

Church: Take me to it, I want to see it.

Slade: Church, we don't bloody have time for-

Beeping sounds overlap Slade's last few words, then Command starts talking to Wash over the radio.

Command: Recovery Command calling Recovery One, level zero.

Washington: I have you, Command, level zero. Go ahead.

Command: We have a beacon, Wash. Pulling the data now. Stand by for ID and coordinates.

Washington: I received it here, too. Standing by.

Church: What was that?

Washington: That was my recovery beacon. It means an A.I. somewhere is in jeopardy and I have to find it before- ...something else does.

Command: Coordinates locked, transmitting now.

Washington: Receiving coordinates for recovery target. Do we have an ID?

Command: Affirmative, it is from the A.I. Delta and-

Washington: Agent South.

Slade: (quietly) Natalie...

Command: Roger that, Agent South Dakota. Vital reports look bad. Yeah, she's in trouble, Wash.

Washington: Yes. Yes she is.