Prototype : A New Start

Unclassified - Part Three

Mercer listened in silent interest as Ilsa shared her story, how she wondered where things went wrong when she was hanging upside down inside of a flipped humvee, which had ran over an IED Landmine.

Ilsa mentioned the shouting from her unit, the heavy exchange of gunshots which she could hear clearly even from inside of the multipurpose military vehicle.

When her unit finally dragged her out from burning wreck, she initially didn't responded to their questions nor handed out any orders. Instead, Her tired, hazel eyes wandered around the the city they were supposed to be patrolling.

Despite still being in the slums of Kabul, all she could see is sand.

Sand, and more fucking sand. Oh, also deaths. As edgy that sounds like...

Maybe she was tired from all the fighting, or maybe she's tired of shooting up extremists who wanted to execute her with a shot from the back of her head or rape her, followed with the former.

One thing led to another after she finally returned back to US soil. Family matters, meeting with old colleagues, banter about their respective lives, reintegrating back to society, and many other stuffs that eventually led her to his easy, yet honorable job which she could even do with both hands behind her back.

Conversing normally with a sentient- No, Sapient Bioweapon is definitely not in her job description, and although she started to enjoy the conversation she's having with said Bioweapon.... This still feels wrong on so many level.

"Yesterday, I was threatening you. Today, we're drinking coffee together." Mercer hummed, before raising an eyebrow at her, "Is this an ambush?"

She scoffed.

This time, Mercer didn't even put any disguise on. He did changed his attire to be something less-gloomy, and something that actually befitting of his age.

"I'd like to have an AT-4 pointed inside this cafe while we talk, but sadly, it's not something conventional to be used against an indestructible bioweapon." She smoothly replied with sarcasm, "Don't worry, if you try to do anything, hot coffee to the face usually works well."

Good job, Ilsa. You could had thrown everything behind especially after all that talk about not wanting to know anything else yesterday to avoid knowing too much, but here you are.

Another lunch break, a different cafe, but the same person to meet... correction, virus.

Come to think of it, neither her family nor her friends would believe her even if she tells them. The bastard probably knows about this too, maybe that's why he was so calm around her.

Prick.

It's also quite weird to refer him as a virus or bioweapon when he looked so... human. But looks can be deceiving... she'll stick with referring him like a normal person for now.

"Right," Mercer quietly flipped the page of the newspaper he was reading. "I still want to apologize for scaring the shit out of you yesterday. I'm glad you didn't snitched me out."

"I still like being alive, thank you." She answered with a thin smile, before taking a quick sip from her own cup with the corner of her lips raised. Alex shrugged, before taking a taste of his own lattè, which he started to grown fond of. "What, did you lose any sleep because of it?"

"My kind don't sleep." He rolled his eyes, "Anyway, I want to ask you a couple basic question, since I haven't opened the hard drive that I deliberately borrowed from your workplace... And I might have misplaced it somewhere."

"...You're joking, right?"

Silence.

"Did you seriously managed to lose-"