Chapter 12: The Rescue Operation
POV: Adam
Marlene's briefing carried the cold efficiency of a military commander who'd learned to view human lives as tactical assets. Three Fireflies captured during a supply raid. FEDRA interrogation scheduled for dawn, followed by public execution designed to discourage resistance. Twenty-four hours to extract them before they died or broke under questioning.
"Extraction team," Marlene announced, "Tommy Miller as combat specialist, Adam Collins for medical support, Tess Servopoulos for infiltration, plus four operatives for backup."
Adam's protest died before reaching his lips. Marlene's smile suggested she'd anticipated objections and dismissed them preemptively. Tommy sat across the planning table, studying Adam with interest that had grown dangerously intense over the past week.
"You're professionals," Marlene continued when neither man spoke. "Act like it."
The assignment was tactical suicide disguised as reasonable deployment. Adam's abilities made him valuable for emergency healing. Tommy's military experience made him essential for combat operations. But working in close proximity meant sustained contact that would shatter Adam's carefully maintained emotional distance.
"She's doing this deliberately. Testing whether I can function around Tommy, or forcing the confrontation she thinks needs to happen."
"Any objections?" Marlene asked.
Silence that felt like surrender.
POV: Adam
FEDRA detention occupied a converted office building that Detection mapped in meticulous detail—thirty soldiers distributed across five floors, twelve civilian workers handling administrative functions, three prisoners locked in basement cells designed for storage rather than human occupancy.
But complications emerged during surveillance: infected breach in sub-level three, contained but spreading. Emergency lockdown protocols had triggered, trapping contaminated areas while FEDRA struggled with dual crisis of security breach and biological hazard.
"Distraction works in our favor," Adam told the team through encrypted comms. "FEDRA's attention split between prisoners and infection control."
"Or deadly convergence," Tommy countered. "Infected break containment while we're inside, we're trapped between two different kinds of enemy."
Valid tactical concern that demonstrated Tommy's strategic thinking. Adam found himself nodding despite efforts to maintain professional distance.
"Your call," Tess said, checking her forged FEDRA credentials one final time. "Go now while chaos provides cover, or wait for situation to stabilize."
Detection painted the facility's stress patterns like tactical overlay. Infected signatures growing stronger in sub-level three. Prisoner heartbeats showing fatigue and fear but no immediate medical crisis. FEDRA personnel increasingly focused on containment rather than interrogation schedules.
"We go now," Adam decided. "Before infected reach the prisoners."
Tommy agreed instantly, tactical synchronization that surprised them both. Different reasons, same conclusion—save who could be saved while salvation remained possible.
POV: Tommy
Basement corridor descended into nightmare as FEDRA guards and infected Runners converged simultaneously. Tommy's military training kicked in automatically—controlled breathing, target prioritization, efficient ammunition conservation.
But Adam moved like liquid death.
Sword forms Tommy had never seen, breathing patterns that made air shimmer with contained energy. First Form: Serpentinite Bipolar decapitated a Runner mid-lunge with surgical precision. Second Form: Upper Smash shattered a guard's rifle before the man could fire.
"Where the hell did he learn that?"
Tommy fought beside him, awed and terrified by abilities that belonged in movies rather than combat manuals. Adam's movements flowed like choreographed violence, each strike carrying enough force to kill infected while somehow avoiding lethal harm to human opponents.
"Where the hell did you learn that?" Tommy demanded between gunshots.
"Classified program," Adam replied through gritted teeth, deflecting a Stalker's claws while maintaining sword forms that defied physics. "Don't ask."
The cover story was wearing thin under scrutiny. No military program taught techniques like this. No government experiment produced abilities that made reality negotiable. But crisis demanded cooperation over investigation.
They cleared the corridor together—Tommy's conventional tactics supporting Adam's impossible abilities, creating tactical synergy neither had expected.
POV: Adam
Prisoners freed, infected horde contained, extraction route secured. Mission success marred by one critical complication: Tommy wounded during the final engagement, deep gash across his left shoulder that severed muscle and nicked bone.
Detection painted his condition in stark medical detail—blood loss approaching dangerous levels, tissue damage requiring immediate surgical intervention, life expectancy measured in minutes without treatment.
"Leave him and guarantee escape, or reveal Ope Ope abilities to save him."
The calculation was brutal and simple. Tommy Miller was historically important—future founder of Jackson, brother to the game's protagonist, carrier of Adam's Stone Breathing techniques to communities that would need them. His death would create timeline ripples extending far beyond personal loss.
But beyond tactical consideration lay something more immediate: Tommy was a good man who didn't deserve to die because Adam's presence had created the circumstances leading to his injury.
"Can you stabilize him?" Tess asked, checking their perimeter for pursuit.
"Not with field medicine," Adam admitted, hands already moving toward wounds he could heal through impossible means.
ROOM erupted around them both—thirty feet of blue energy where reality bent to surgical will. Tommy's eyes widened with shock that transcended pain as space itself became operating theater.
"What the fuck—" Tommy started.
"Shut up and let me work," Adam snapped, activating Scan to map tissue damage in real-time.
Amputate separated damaged tissue cleanly. Counter Shock sealed bleeding vessels with electrical precision. Mes examined internal organs for hidden complications. Thirty seconds of impossible surgery that left Tommy whole and unharmed.
"How?" Tommy whispered, staring at shoulder where healthy skin had replaced torn muscle. "How the hell did you do that?"
The question that would define everything. Adam met his eyes directly for the first time, seeing recognition building despite careful concealment. Tommy's family features reflected his own like mirror showing impossible truth.
POV: Tommy
Safe house afterward. Mission accomplished. Three Fireflies extracted successfully. But Tommy couldn't stop staring at Adam, mind cycling through impossible explanations for abilities that rewrote everything he thought he understood about the world.
"My brother Joel saw someone during Outbreak Day," Tommy said quietly, voice carrying dangerous certainty. "Guy who looked like family but wasn't. Used those same weird powers."
Adam's face went pale beneath the hood he still maintained despite indoor safety.
"You got something to tell me?" Tommy continued, heart hammering with recognition that felt like lightning striking the same place twice. "Because right now I'm thinking you're either the same person, or this world's gotten stranger than I thought possible."
The moment stretched between them like held breath. Truth or deeper lies. Trust or continued deception. Adam's choice would determine whether partnership became alliance or whether dangerous questions demanded answers that could destroy everything.
Tommy waited, understanding that some revelations changed the world forever. Whatever Adam Collins truly was, whoever he'd been before the mysterious "classified program," the truth was coming whether either of them was ready for it.
The silence felt like a countdown toward explosion.
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