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Fusco, Root, John, and Harold were pinned in the stock exchange break room, and the situation looked dire. Samaritan agents had them cornered, and time was quickly running out.
“We need a strategy,” Harold murmured.
“A little help please,” Root said.
John looked over his shoulder. “It’s a hell of a time for your Machine to go on the fritz, Harold.”
“Give it a second,” Harold replied, putting a hand on John’s shoulder, “It’s got a lot on its mind.”
Root looked up at the ceiling, listening intently. After a few seconds, she said, “Got it.”
“Got what?” Fusco asked, befuddled, “Who’s she talking to?”
He wasn’t given an answer before Root started giving instructions. “When we open that door, turn right, Harold. You’re going to secure our escape route. John, you go with him. Fusco and I are going to the server room to hack the system and stabilize the market.”
“Hack?” Fusco echoed, “I can barely retrieve my email.”
“Root, you sure you don’t want Harold to go with you?” John asked, “You might wanna give Fusco a job that requires a little less technical proficiency.”
Root pursed her lips. “It’s non-negotiable. Harold, head to the mechanical room and cut the tension cables to the elevator’s lock.”
“How exactly would we do that, Miss Groves?” Harold asked.
“She say it used to be an old hobby of yours.”
All four of them moved towards the door, crouching for cover from the continuous gunfire. With their backs to the wall, they lined up near the exit and readied their weapons.
“Ready to roll?” Root said. Fusco gave her a nod, and John threw the door open.
They made quick work of the Samaritan agents outside before splitting up and going their separate ways, Fusco and Root to the server room, and John and Harold to the mechanical room. John watched Harold’s back carefully as they moved. He only hoped that the Machine knew what it was doing.
“I imagine Samaritan is monitoring the building’s electrical system,” Harold commented as he limped down the dimly lit corridor, “Once we disable the elevator’s locks, it’ll be a matter of seconds before all the operatives know our location. So we need to find a way to re-supply power to the elevator first.”
John’s heart sank. Root hadn’t mentioned any of that in her game plan. “Any idea what to look for?”
Harold stopped by a large tarp. He pulled it away to reveal what looked like a large engine mounted on top of a white barrel tank. “The Machine mentioned an old hobby of mine, and I think I know why.” John tilted his head, and Harold added, “When I was a boy, I used to work on old cars.” He cracked open a panel on the side. “Hopefully, I can get this generator started.”
John was mildly impressed, and also touched. Harold didn’t talk very much about his youth, although John supposed that trying to save New York and also running for their lives put things like privacy on the back burner. He allowed himself a small grin before he said, “Looks like you’ve got this under control. I’ll see about disabling the lock.”
“There’s a manual release handle on the back of the brake,” Harold supplied, “but that elevator will be heavily guarded.”
John thought a moment, looking around for any available resources to help. He spotted an emergency fire axe in a case on the wall. “I guess we’ll have to find another way,” he said, starting towards it.
“John, wait!” Harold called. John paused, turning to look at his partner. “Before you go, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Taking a few steps towards Harold, John asked, “Is now really the best time?”
Harold pursed his lips. “Now may be the only time.” He fiddled with the wires inside the generator panel as he spoke, his hands trembling slightly. “John, I don’t know what’s going to happen after this. I don’t know where we’ll be, if we see this through to the end.”
John closed the distance between them. “Don’t say that,” he hissed, “We’re going to make it.”
“Please, let me finish,” Harold whispered. John blinked. Harold’s voice was shaky and strained. “I just need to make sure that you know...if I don’t get another chance to tell you, then I have to tell you now that…” He took a deep breath in, trying to steady himself. “You were the best part of my life after my life ended. You were the best of me when there wasn’t any of me left.”
“Harold…”
“You tell me all the time, I saved you. I gave you a job and a purpose, and that I was the one who brought you back, but… John, you reminded me that… that I…”
Harold got choked up and had to pause. Carefully, John reached out and put his hand on Harold’s.
After a moment, Harold continued. “When I took the Machine and gave it new purpose, I poured myself and my life into it until there was nothing left, because I had nothing else to live for. But you… when you came into the picture, life became so much bigger.” He looked up at John with wide eyes. “You showed me the light, John. And I will always love you for that.”
John opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by a sultry voice from behind him. “How sweet.”
Both men turned sharply to see Martine standing in the hall, backed by a handful of other Samaritan agents. “I hate to interrupt such a touching moment, but I don’t have all day.”
In the blink of an eyes, John thrust himself in front of Harold to shield him, and raised his gun. The hall filled with gunshots and light, and the sound of Harold shouting.
As they lay on the floor bleeding out, Harold crawled to John’s side and reach out to take his hand. John’s fingers barely twitched. “John,” Harold gasped, “No… please…”
“Ha… rold…” John sighed before his eyes fluttered shut.
A tear slid down Harold’s cheek as he struggled to breathe.
No.
Without John, Harold had nothing to hold on for. He could only hope that Root and Fusco had been successful in stabilizing the stock market and would find another way out. Everything else faded away, except the brief moment of his hand closed around John’s…
OPTION 347,853
UNDESIRED OUTCOME
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE:
PREVENT FINANCIAL CRISIS
FAILED
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:
EVACUATE ASSETS
FAILED
ADMIN: TERMINATED
SIMULATION TERMINATED
~
In the end, the Machine had sent them all to the server room together. They’d stabilized the stock market, made it to the basement with the elevator, where they were taking heavy fire. John, Fusco, and Root were all shooting back, with Harold huddled behind them.
John’s gun clicked. “I’m out,” he said, as Martine rounded the corner with another agent. John looked up just in time to see the agent crossing the gap and aiming right at Harold.
“FINCH!” John shouted, jumping in front of Harold and taking the bullet. He stumbled forward into Harold, who dragged John out of the line of fire and propped him up against a crate.
“Surrender your weapons, now!” the agent shouted.
Harold panted as he examined John’s wound. “You gotta put pressure on it,” he murmured, desperately pushing on the bleeding gunshot wound.
“I’m all right, Harold,” John slurred, even as his eyes fluttered. Wincing, John reached up to grab Harold’s hand.
Out of sigh, Root was talking to Shaw. “Hey sweetie. You busy?”
Harold wasn’t focused on her conversation. “John, you idiot,” he growled, “Why did you do that?”
John groaned as he inhaled to answer. “Can’t… lose… you,” he wheezed, looking up at Harold with glassy blue eyes. He looked like he wanted to say more, but his expression said the rest.
“Can’t a couple of gals take a little break from work to catch up?” Root purred, lips curled into a flirtatious smile.
Shaw rolled her eyes as she walked towards them. “No, we do not have time to catch up.” She looked around to see the state of the team- bullet casings everywhere, John slumped on the floor with Harold panicking above him, and Root leaned against the wall holding her bleeding side. “Oh, you guys look like crap.”
“How did you-” Finch started.
“Had to crawl through fifty yards of air duct. We won’t make it that way.” Fusco shot her a look, and she smirked. “Don’t worry, I got a little gift from our friend in the bomb vest.” Root beamed at her as she cocked her gun. “I’ll take it from here.” Brandishing the C4, Shaw waltzed forward. When she was in front of Root, she threw the explosive and shot it mid-air. The explosion bought them enough time to get out of the hall. Laying down cover fire with Root, Shaw commanded, “Come on, get him up.”
Harold and Fusco hauled John off the ground with an arm over each of their shoulders. The three of them hobbled to the elevator, where John promptly collapsed on the floor.
Harold leaned in close so John could hear him over the gunshots and said, “I can’t lose you either, you reckless thing, so don’t you dare give up on me, got it?” John managed a nod, and Harold rushed to the elevator controls. “We need to go,” he said as Shaw and Root ran in, “We might not get a second chance.”
“Second chances are overrated, Harold,” Shaw teased.
Harold barely spared her a glance before hitting the button, but nothing happened.
“What the-!” Fusco exclaimed.
“The controls aren’t responding.” Harold pressed the button again more fervently, but to no avail.
They all looked around for a solution. Shaw spotted it across the room. “The desk,” she said, “There’s an override button. Someone’s gotta get to that button and hold them off.”
Shaw took a step forward. Root rushed to stop her. “Sameen, if you even think I’m gonna let you-”
Shaw whipped around with an argument on her tongue, “For god’s sake!” The look on Root’s face stopped her. Her expression shifted. Rolling her eyes affectionately, Shaw sighed and grabbed Root by the collar to pull her into a kiss. Everyone looked on, stunned.
Except for Fusco. The detective saw his opening and seized it. He dropped the empty clip out of his gun and into his waiting palm before chucking it past the kissing women. It bounced against the button, lighting it up red. Shaw stumbled forward into Root’s arms, and Fusco slammed the screen shut as the elevator doors started to close.
“What the hell?” Root asked.
“You didn’t think I could hit that button, huh, Mayhem?” Smirking, he explained, “I was a softball pitcher for six years.”
“Damn Lionel,” Shaw murmured, “and with the bases loaded.”
Harold quietly cleared his throat. “That was… close.”
“Yeah,” Root agreed, “Way too close.”
Root and Shaw exchanged a look before they finally broke apart, slightly winded. Root reached up to fix her hair. Shaw adjusted her coat. They rode the elevator up in silence.
“So,” Fusco asked just before they reached their floor, “How long have you been holding that one back?”
Shaw shot him an icy look. “Shut up, Lionel.”
DESIRED OUTCOME
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE
PREVENT FINANCIAL CRISIS
ACHIEVED
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE
EVACUATE ASSETS
ACHIEVED
TERTIARY OBJECTIVE
PRIMARY ASSET AND ANALOG INTERFACE
INVOLVED
MISSION SUCCESSFUL