Interrogation Room, USS New Jersey
Aug 26, 1942
8:00 AM
Within the dimly lit room, a single, bare light bulb cast a harsh, focused glow directly onto the center of a sturdy table. Seated at that table, a figure remained perfectly still, both hands secured in heavy cuffs.
This individual was none other than the Siren Minion they had managed to capture. For an entire day, since its apprehension, the Siren Minion had remained utterly motionless, its gaze fixed solely upon its manacled hands. There was no discernible emotion, no flicker of human intelligence, only an eerie, unwavering stillness that defied scrutiny.
Present in the very same room, Enterprise, New Jersey, and Cmdr. Elena observed the static Siren Minion. Despite its profound lack of movement, they all detected a faint, almost childlike expression of wonder in its eyes.
"How long has it been like that?" Enterprise-6 whispered, leaning closer to New Jersey.
New Jersey, in turn, subtly shifted. "Indeed. It's been as unmoving as a machine."
Enterprise-80, however, perceived the Siren Minion through a markedly different lens, especially given its complete lack of hostile intent.
'Motionless as a machine?' she mused inwardly. 'Are these Siren Minions somehow linked to a central system, allowing other Sirens to control them like a meticulous operator? If this were merely a droid, its profound silence would be easily understood. But this is a living being... Perhaps its brain hasn't matured sufficiently to attain true self-consciousness? If that's the case... perhaps the Sirens who created her deliberately limited their thinking and self-awareness to prevent any possibility of rebellion. Unlike the other Sirens... especially those superior ones who have so clearly exhibited both emotion and distinct personalities.'
Her deep contemplation was abruptly shattered by the sudden, forceful swing of the hatch door. In the doorway now stood William, Vestal, Queen Elizabeth, Warspite, and Wales, their presence filling the space.
"Took you long enough," Enterprise-80 remarked, greeting them with a hint of playful impatience.
William responded, a touch of weariness in his voice. "Apologies, Ma'am. Moving so much Siren equipment takes a considerable toll on us." Both William and Vestal indeed appeared visibly fatigued.
The two had worked tirelessly to secure all visible Siren equipment, meticulously minimizing its presence to avoid widespread alarm. If the unsettling knowledge that Sirens could interbreed with human males were to disseminate among the populace, it would undoubtedly trigger widespread panic across the entire country.
Vestal's hair was disheveled, her normally neat curls now wild and frizzy, reminiscent of a metal band's aesthetic. Her face was haggard, a clear testament to the lack of beauty sleep due to the sheer volume of work she had endured.
In stark contrast, the Royal Navy Shipgirls had arrived with impeccable style, looking refreshed and perfectly attired. Queen Elizabeth's reply differed significantly from William's more practical tone.
"A lady simply requires time to dress and prepare herself," she declared, striking a pose of mature elegance. "Beauty is something a lady should always prioritize over mere time."
"So it took you an entire hour to put on a diaper, huh," William mumbled under his breath.
Vestal sharply elbowed him, subtly admonishing him for mumbling something that could easily upset the Queen.
Wales quickly intervened, apologizing for the Queen's rather blunt remark. "I sincerely apologize for Her Majesty's somewhat brusque behavior; Her Majesty truly requires that time to meticulously care for herself."
Both Enterprise and the rest of their companions had been awake long before the sun's first rays had pierced the horizon, while the Queen was still luxuriating in her beauty sleep.
"As long as everyone is present, I have no concerns. We can commence now," Enterprise-80 stated, clearly unwilling to waste another precious minute.
William, recognizing the inherent urgency, immediately began his inquiry or examination by interrogating the Siren Minion, who remained handcuffed to the table. The others stood to the side, observing the interrogation intently as they formulated their own conclusions on the matter.
William initiated the interrogation gently. "Hello... can you understand what I'm saying?" he asked the Siren Minion, who slowly raised its head to glance at the questioner.
To their collective confusion, the Siren Minion tilted its head distinctly to the left, as if attempting to process William's words. Then, like a child painstakingly sounding out new syllables, it repeated each word distinctly, separated from the others.
"Hello... can... you... understand... what... I'm... saying..." she enunciated, her voice strangely childlike.
Though she possessed a fully developed physical body, the rapid growth of the Siren Minions meant their brains often developed at a significantly slower pace.
"Well... that's certainly a fresh start," William commented, genuinely amazed that this Siren Minion had managed to utter his "language."
Conversely, the others held distinctly different opinions.
"Is she attempting to play some sort of trick on us, feigning innocence with all that... how despicable," Queen Elizabeth scoffed, scrutinizing the Siren Minion's first attempt at verbal communication.
"According to the research William and I conducted on these Minions, they generally lack significant brain development. Either the Sirens intentionally left them that way, or it's a direct consequence of their incredibly rapid process," Vestal offered, voicing her informed opinion on the Siren Minion.
"Even with limited brain development, they are still capable of wielding weapons and following commands; no truly undeveloped brain could accomplish that," Warspite interjected, her opinion reflecting a cautious stance, ever on guard for any potential hostile action from the Siren.
Their "War-Corgi" was perpetually ready to spring into action should a surprise attack unfold.
"Odd... how are we going to extract any information from it if it cannot comprehend our words? We can't even speak the Siren languages; how on earth are we supposed to communicate with them?" Queen Elizabeth pondered aloud.
Everyone in the room nodded in agreement, acknowledging the Queen's astute observation regarding their peculiar predicament with the captured Siren Minion.
"We cannot simply dispatch this one to RND for research," Enterprise-80 stated firmly. "We have no way of knowing if it will remain as docile as this, or perhaps it's merely an act to lower our guard. Developed brain or not, this Siren Minion still poses a potential threat."
"You're right... we cannot send this to RND without first acquiring some understanding of its thought processes," Enterprise-6 concurred.
Cmdr. Elena, driven by curiosity, inquired, "Is your technology sufficiently advanced to handle this Siren?"
"Our technology isn't advanced enough to read people's minds," Enterprise-80 replied. "However, we do possess devices capable of measuring brain pulses, which can offer insights into what's occurring inside their heads."
She continued, "We absolutely cannot allow RND to take possession of her... not until we are certain she is safe."
The focus then returned to William as he posed another question, determined to gauge the Siren Minion's intelligence capacity. He did this by presenting her with photographs and names of various Sirens, written in their distinctive language.
The Siren Language itself resembled an intricate calligraphy, composed of strange, alien characters. These Siren Calligraphies had been discovered within numerous Siren Facilities and structures built by them.
William held up a photograph of Tester α in his right hand, while in his left, he displayed various names of Sirens, ranging from Elite-Sirens to Executor Class types.
To his genuine surprise, the Siren Minion displayed an immediate and unmistakable emotion, one that everyone present could decipher at a mere glance. The Siren Minion visibly shuddered at the image of an Elite-Siren; the raw terror plastered in its eyes was undeniable.
He quickly put away the unsettling photograph of Tester α, observing the trembling Siren Minion. Then, he slowly tapped the papers containing the Siren names to regain its attention.
The Siren Minion slowly raised a finger, pointing it towards Tester α's name. Its fingertip did not actually touch the paper, hovering perhaps a millimeter above the printed name.
William, a chilling, grim understanding dawning upon him, realized he was beginning to comprehend the mentality of these Minions. To confirm the theory rapidly forming in his mind, he produced another photograph of a Siren, but this time, it was one evidently familiar to the Siren Minion.
He showed her the photograph of Executor Class: Strategist MK-III and Breaker Mk-III. In immediate reaction to this image, the Siren Minion recoiled, covering itself with its handcuffed hands as if attempting to shield itself from some past abuse.
Seeing this profound reaction, William swiftly put away the photo of the two Sirens. He then tapped the paper where their names were written. Just as before, the Siren Minion pointed to their names.
After confirming his theory, he turned to face the surprised countenances of everyone else, who had witnessed the trembling Siren Minion's distressed response.
"It appears the Sirens enforce terror even among their Minions," William articulated, his voice grave. "They were all created solely to be worker to their creators, destined to be used as cannon fodder. They exist merely as expendable statistics in their grand designs."
The Shipgirls present felt a flicker of genuine sympathy for these Siren Minions, created solely to serve their masters for manpower, only to die as if they were nothing, readily replaceable.
"They mingle their own kind with ours to create their own worker..." Queen Elizabeth muttered, a horrified realization dawning on her.
"It is, Your Majesty, sl*very with an extra steps," William confirmed.
"So, is it now safe to hand it over to RND's hands?" Queen Elizabeth inquired.
William shook his head. "No, not yet, Your Majesty." He said, a serious undertone in his voice. He then turned to face his superior. "Ma'am."
"Yes? Is there something you require, William?" Enterprise-80 asked him.
"With your permission, I would like to conduct another, more extensive test at the Azur Lane Research Facility in Hawaii."
"Why there?"
"I wish to definitively determine how the Sirens communicate with one another. Furthermore, we have possession of Purifier's head, and I would like to observe how they react to one another. This presents a one-time opportunity to study their telepathic communication capabilities."
Enterprise-80 fell into deep contemplation. She fully agreed with the potential value of his experimental plan... but RND was eager to acquire the Minion as swiftly as possible.
As the seconds ticked by, she made her decision. "Let's see what arrangements I can make for that. I might be able to secure some leeway for your research into their telepathic communication to extend," she stated, already envisioning the stack of paper requests she would soon be dropping onto the Admiral's desk.
"Thank you, Ma'am."
With the proposed test acknowledged, everyone then retired, returning to their respective Ship's Mess halls to enjoy some well-deserved morning breakfast.
The Royal Navy Shipgirls had already consumed their own breakfast. They were now gathered, sitting elegantly at a circular table large enough for tea parties, situated on the deck of the Battleship Wales, engaged in lively chatter.
Queen Elizabeth, savoring her tea and biscuit, listened intently as Wales briefed her on the current operation unfolding south of their position, in the frigid expanse where penguins roamed freely.
"So tell me, Wales, why exactly would we need to dispatch a small detachment of ships to Antarctica? Is there something Miss Enterprise has been reluctant to disclose to us?"
Wales responded to the Queen's inquiry and slight misunderstanding. "My apologies, Your Majesty, for not having informed you earlier about the current circumstances."
"And why precisely was that?"
Wales glanced meaningfully at Hood, silently appealing for assistance. Hood, understanding Wales's silent plea, swiftly came to the rescue of her subordinate.
"Your Majesty... please forgive me for the rather blunt words you are about to hear," Hood began, issuing a subtle warning.
Queen Elizabeth knew only too well that the demographic prone to speaking harshly and rudely were typically the Eagle Union and the Americans.
"Alright... proceed," the Queen permitted.
"Miss Enterprise stated that you were simply too exhausted to even absorb the information, even if they attempted to condense it into the simplest terms. They ultimately concluded it would be more effective to inform you this very morning."
Queen Elizabeth, utterly surprised by the sheer directness of the statement, spat out her tea.
Wales continued, "As Miss Enterprise would have attempted to explain last night: a Siren Minion with advanced knowledge of Ground Warfare slipped through our grasp, having been suddenly teleported to another Siren Base located far to the south, in Antarctica. The small detachment of Ships departed at 3:00 AM this morning; at their current speed, they should be reaching Antarctica even now."
"A Siren Minion with a knowledge of Ground Warfare...? So that must be significantly important to the Sirens," the Queen murmured, pondering the implications.
"Why not dispatch a full Task Force? The Siren must be guarding it closely, as it clearly holds immense value for them and their future plans," she inquired, curious as to why only a small team had been sent.
"Miss Enterprise desired this operation to be executed as swiftly as possible. It would have required half a day to prepare a full Task Force. She sought to capture that objective through swift and decisive action."
'So, the Sirens are truly serious about Ground Warfare, so much so that they've created a new type of Siren Minion specifically specialized in that domain...' Her mind drifted, contemplating the implications of a Siren Minion dedicated to ground combat. 'What exactly could they be planning for the future?'
...
Antarctica
Across the vast, snowy white tundra, an unbroken expanse of snow stretched as far as the eye could perceive. Gusts of biting wind whipped up swirling snow, as a grey-colored object cut through the frigid air, flying at an exceptionally low altitude, almost skimming the ground.
An MH-60 Seahawk, specially equipped to withstand the extreme cold temperatures of Antarctica, flew at a steady cruising speed, hovering mere meters above the surface to avoid any potential radar detection.
Inside the cabin, every member of the special operations team tasked with this critical mission was clad in Artic gear and protective equipment. Snow camouflage, meticulously designed for Artic Warfare, adorned the Special Operators charged with storming an isolated Siren Facility.
Meanwhile, in the treacherous, icy waters of Antarctica, a lone Arleigh Burke Destroyer navigated the frigid sea, its path fraught with countless ice-sheets and towering, floating icebergs.
The Aegis Destroyer remained on standby, ready to unleash missile bombardment if the situation necessitated such a drastic measure. Its AN/SPY-6 Radar meticulously scanned the sky above the mission objective. The radar panel, continuously eyeing the heavens, displayed no signs of any hostile aircraft lingering near the Siren Base.
Back inside the Seahawk's cabin, Lucas once again briefed everyone onboard. "Everyone, listen up..."
All chattering immediately ceased as every pair of eyes and ears focused on the steady, commanding voice of the one in charge of this vital operation.
After securing their full attention, Lucas continued. "Charlie Group (the Clevelands), you're with me. We need to carve a clear pathway for the Mikes (the Manjuus) to reach our primary objective, 'Sierra' (the Target Siren). Once that's accomplished, everyone will evacuate the area immediately, as the Destroyer offshore will then bombard the entire Siren Facility with a barrage of missiles. Coordination and timing are absolutely crucial. We are entirely on our own in this mission... do not let anyone down."
"Yes, Sir/Roger that!" came the unified, resolute replies.
The Seahawk then began its slow descent, touching down approximately one mile away from its intended target. This specific landing distance was calculated to ensure they remained undetected.
As the Seahawk's skids, designed for snow landings, finally settled into the thick snow, Lucas gave the order to disembark.
"GO, GO, GO! Move it, move it!"
They all swiftly jumped from the side of the helicopter, their boots sinking deep into the heavy snow. As soon as everyone had disembarked, the Seahawk lifted off again, heading towards the Destroyer's location for refueling.
Everyone immediately secured their immediate surroundings after the helicopter departed. Lucas then waved a hand signal to one of the Manjuus to advance.
Skipper and his men moved forward to secure their pathway leading directly to the Siren Facility. Their advance was slow, however, hampered by their somewhat awkward "chicken feet" in the deep snow.
"This is Mike-1. The coast is clear of any hostiles."
Upon hearing the report, Lucas and the Charlies advanced towards the Mikes' position. As they moved, Lucas inquired, "Any hostiles inside the Facility?"
"No movement. We've thoroughly checked with our Thermal Vision and even advanced optics. It seems those Sirens aren't particularly fond of the cold."
Private spoke with a touch of giddiness in his voice. "Those guys wear so few clothes, the cold must really get into their skin!"
"Quiet down, kid," Lucas admonished the Manjuu. "There are some Sirens adapted to the cold tundra."
"It appears there are no further movements or signs of life in the immediate surroundings of the Facility," Lucas stated, then glanced at his team. "Get ready, we're moving in."
Everyone gave a firm nod in acknowledgment. With a slow yet remarkably stealthy approach, Lucas and his team crawled their way towards the Facility, utilizing the snow as natural cover.
The Mike-Team ingeniously formed a human ladder, allowing Rico to open a railing cover of a ventilation shaft. After they cleared their initial entry, everyone began to crawl inside the cramped ventilation shaft.
The slim physiques and proportional bodies of the Cleveland-class Shipgirls managed to fit, albeit snugly, into the boxy contraption as they crawled inward. Lucas, on the other hand, experienced considerable difficulty with his bulkier physique. All in all, it proved challenging for everyone to maintain stealth while crawling within an aluminum box.
Lucas, having no patience for the complaints echoing behind him, continued to crawl, with the Manjuus bravely leading the way. This had to be the "quietest" Spec Ops mission in human history, as Lucas, along with the girls and a few chickens, seemed more like they were on a field trip than a critical mission, given all the teenage commotion unfolding behind him.
He could no longer tolerate the noise they were producing and ordered them over the comms, "If this mission fails because of your incessant whining, I will relocate you all to Anchorage, Alaska. Do you copy?"
Everyone immediately fell silent at that stark caution. They had been complaining bitterly about the freezing temperatures of the Antarctic, and they certainly did not want to be stationed in a perpetually cold place like Alaska.
"I believe that silence signifies your agreement. Keep your mouths shut, or I'll tape them."
The arduous crawling continued as they endured the unpleasant situation within the enclosed space, determined not to have their mouths taped shut. Everyone was then granted a brief moment of immense relief as their crawling ordeal finally ended.
Skipper cautiously poked his head out from behind one of the crates and observed the room, which was filled with Humanoid Sirens, all heavily armed with their standard weaponry.
Executor Class: Breaker Mk-II, Tracker MK-II, and Explorer MK-II were the types lurking about with weapons, while the Siren Minions were engaged in the laborious task of placing crates containing various resources.
"There are far too many of them, Skipper..." Private whispered, clearly unnerved by the sight of the Humanoid Sirens filling the room.
"Grow some balls, Private. Our chances of bumping into these Sirens are as common as a Tuesday," Skipper retorted.
"Enough chit-chatting. We have a mission to complete," Lucas stated, cutting short the Manjuus' conversation.
"Kowalski. Where's our target?" he asked seriously, intent on wasting no more time in this place and getting back.
Kowalski nodded and opened his laptop to review the facility's mapping. The 3D map of the facility had been successfully downloaded from the system at the previous Siren facility in Madagascar. Fortunately for them, the maps and blueprints of all Siren Facilities were identical; the Sirens truly saved resources and time by simply copy-pasting their facility designs.
"Got it," Kowalski announced, then pointed to a door with glass panels. "That's our target." He then pointed to another door. "Behind that door is where they're keeping the captured men. I'm certain about the numbers... but there might be fewer than four."
Lucas furrowed his brows, a serious expression settling on his face. "I see..." He then glanced behind him.
"You two," he said, pointing to Biloxi and Birmingham. "Follow me. This is a rescue mission." Both Birmingham and Biloxi nodded in immediate understanding.
"Yes, Sir."
"Columbia, Denver, and Montpelier, you three will accompany the Mikes as they storm the Labs."
The three nodded in response. "Good. Move out."
Columbia, Denver, Montpelier, and the Manjuus returned to the ventilation shaft to make their way inside the Laboratory. The girls vocalized a few complaints about having to crawl back through the ventilation shaft; they genuinely detested crawling in such cramped spaces.
Lucas, Birmingham, and Biloxi swiftly dropped and rolled behind a stack of crates to avoid detection by the patrolling Humanoid Sirens. They advanced slowly, Lucas peering out to ensure their path was clear of any Siren Minions.
Before they leapt to another stack of crates for cover, Lucas meticulously attached several remotely detonated C-4s to each crate they passed. He affixed them to the most hidden parts of the crates, ensuring they were out of sight of any Siren Minions who might move them.
He raised a clenched fist to signal the two to halt all movement, waiting for the lone Siren Minion in the area to walk out of their immediate vicinity.
As the Siren Minion departed, he shifted his fist to an open-palm hand and waved it, signaling them to advance. Through skillful maneuvering and a touch of luck, they managed to reach the door without being detected.
Lucas ordered the two to switch to their pistols. Biloxi and Birmingham were momentarily confused as to why they should change to their secondary weapons.
"We're going in in silence," he explained, then proceeded to equip his own issued pistol with a silencer. The two now fully understood his meaning.
"Got it," they replied, swiftly attaching silencers to the ends of their pistol barrels.
"Cover me."
The two turned their attention to the rear, providing Lucas with cover as he meticulously opened the door using its binary lock. The lock's code was written in Siren Language; once again, the Sirens hadn't even bothered to change the lock, as all facility locks shared the exact same binary codes.
The door lifted upward, opening just like a classic "Sci-Fi Automatic Door." Lucas and his team wasted no time, quickly moving inside to ensure no Siren caught even a fleeting glimpse of their undetected entry.
The room was dimly lit, with the only significant light source emanating from the center. Lucas and the two Shipgirls moved silently to the dark corners of the room.
In the deepest shadows, Lucas, armed with his KA-BAR Knife, patiently waited for a Humanoid Siren to pass by. Like a phantom in the dark, he meticulously concealed his presence and even regulated his breathing. With his presence utterly masked, the Siren Minion passed by, completely oblivious to the fact she had been targeted.
With a swift, decisive movement, Lucas clamped a hand over her mouth, ensuring no sound escaped and no other Siren Minions in the room were alarmed. The Siren Minion struggled, attempting to counter and slip away from Lucas's iron grip, but the KA-BAR Knife had struck swiftness that it made not a single sound.
The two Shipgirls gulped in unison, momentarily speechless and frozen in shock. They had never witnessed him this cold, this utterly serious, when engaged in a mission.
He removed his hand from the Siren's mouth, then slowly dragged the lifeless body out of the way, concealing it in the deep, dark corner.
"What?" he asked, observing their mouths agape and their frozen postures.
The two shook their heads in sync, breaking free from their daze. Lucas knew this was their first time witnessing a Black Ops in action, in all its brutal efficiency.
"Alright. Let's eliminate the remaining Sirens inside," he said, preparing himself for CQC (Close Quarters Combat).
Birmingham and Biloxi readied their silenced pistols, pointing them at the farther Siren Minion, while Lucas prepared his KA-BAR Knife for the closest one.
"Go," he ordered in a whispering voice, though the microphone near his mouth ensured it was clearly transmitted over the comms.
Both Birmingham and Biloxi fired two precise shots each, effectively eliminating their intended targets. Yellow splattered against the jet-black walls.
The Sirens truly seemed to favor the jet-black color for their overall theme, even extending it to their walls.
Lucas tackled the closest Siren to the ground, simultaneously blocking its mouth to prevent any noise. As the Siren Minion's back hit the floor, the cold steel blade of the KA-BAR Knife struck.
The prisoners inside the cells stirred awake from the resounding thud on the ground. They were all too weak to even utter a sound or move. The distinct sound of chains clanging echoed softly as they shivered, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and bewilderment at the sight of a person wearing an unfamiliar set of clothing. But what truly caught their attention was the sight of a Humanoid Siren lying lifeless on the ground.
In the man's hand, a small knife gleamed. The face of the person they were staring at was obscured by the dim lighting of the room, yet they felt an overwhelming sense of dread, as if death itself surrounded this man.
However, their feeling of dread quickly subsided as they heard the person speak in front of them, a voice they hadn't heard for what felt like an eternity, a voice that brought a flicker of hope back to their lost faith.
"Are you alright? Can you move?"
A man's voice, inside a Siren Facility, was certainly not what they had expected. All the men who had entered this room before had been nothing more than guinea pigs. The man standing before them was, undeniably, their savior. Tears welled in their eyes, an overflowing joy flooding their long-suppressed emotions.
Lucas gestured to Biloxi to open the cells. Biloxi produced a heavy-duty bolt cutter to sever the bars of the prison cell.
Biloxi understood the gravity of their situation and exerted her utmost effort to cut through the cell bars. After freeing the prisoners from their confinement, she proceeded to cut the chains that had bound them, the prisoners of the Sirens.
Birmingham covered her mouth, unable to stomach the pervasive stench emanating from the prisoners, who had been treated like animals and left to rot.
"Damn Sirens," she cursed, unable to fully grasp the grim reality of what these beaten, weakened men had endured, left to decay within this grim room.
The immediate problem facing Lucas and his team now was how to evacuate the prisoners. There were five prisoners, and only three of them. They couldn't possibly leave any behind; they had to carry them out, directly into harm's way.
Lucas and the girls engaged in a brief debate about who would carry the most weight, as they couldn't simply carry the men and leave themselves without a means to fight back against any approaching Sirens. They would literally be tying one of their hands behind their backs to save these prisoners.
Eventually, it was decided that Lucas and Biloxi would each carry two prisoners, while Birmingham would carry one.
Birmingham would lead the escape, as she was the only one who could effectively fight back, carrying only a single prisoner.
As they exited the room, all of them crouched behind the stack of crates they had used for cover. Lucas poked his head out, searching for an escape route. Dashing their way out was not an option; they would be instantly exposed to gunfire, and they were carrying prisoners too weak to even stand.
He scanned the surroundings for any alternative escape method. To his luck, he spotted a way up. High above, he noticed a cargo elevator, similar to the middle-deck elevators found on an aircraft carrier.
(If you've seen the movie: XXX State of the Union, you might have an idea of what's coming next.)
"There," he pointed upwards at the elevator that ascended into the ceiling.
"So that's our escape route, then?" Birmingham inquired.
"Yes. We just need to wait for the Mikes Team to make their dramatic exit," Lucas replied.
"How are we going to execute that? We'll be in the direct line of fire if we do," she asked, identifying a clear flaw in the plan.
Lucas merely smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye, for he had an explosive plan for their escape. Birmingham, having worked with him long enough, knew precisely what that man's smile implied.
Birmingham sometimes found herself annoyed by the Americans, particularly their fondness for explosions. Wherever and whenever they were involved, there were often explosions, which they frequently referred to as "dessert" after all the gunshots they fired at the enemy. Without an explosion, the entire firefight simply wasn't "fun" enough for them.
As the two debated the explosive option, Biloxi tended to the prisoners who had been left to rot in their cells. She provided them with some basic medical care, hoping to bolster their weakened strength. The weather outside was brutally harsh, and these frail men would surely perish from the extreme cold.
She also gently wiped their tear-streaked and emotional faces. This was, for them, the first time in what felt like days and even months that they had truly felt safe. These men had long abandoned hope, having been subjected to horrifying experiments by the Sirens. Now, freedom was within their grasp, but the obstacles to attaining it were formidable.
As Biloxi continued to treat them, she heard a peculiar, jarring noise—like wheels scraping forcefully against the floor, a shrill, reverberating shriek echoing from the other door.
Both Lucas and Birmingham immediately ceased their disagreement, their attention riveted by the screeching wheels. Everyone instantly recognized the sound of a vehicle coming from inside the Laboratory.
"Motherf*cker... don't tell me," Lucas muttered, a look of shocked surprise on his face.
"Don't tell you what?" Birmingham was confused by Lucas's mumbled words.
"Get to the elevator, now!" he yelled, having suddenly understood precisely what those guys were doing inside the Laboratory.
As Biloxi and Birmingham, laden with the rescued prisoners, struggled towards the elevator, Lucas urged them to run faster.
"Move! Move! They're busting out!" Lucas shouted, urging them to hurry.
As the Humanoid Sirens heard Lucas's shouts, they immediately swung their weapons towards them. Just as the Sirens were about to open fire, the Mike-Team, in a stroke of hundred-IQ brilliance, burst out by completely shattering the mirrored doors of the Laboratory with a forklift!
The Mike Team rolled out with an undeniable flair for the dramatic, riding triumphantly on a forklift.