Reel-to-Reel
Chapter 1
The back of the M113 APC was cramped, like all the other armored shitboxes the army rode around in. You always hated rolling in anything heavier than a jeep. The squad that made up the army's portion of this operation sitting either side of you wore a similar expression of boredom to yours. They were US peacekeepers, deployed by the UN to try and break up the fighting between the Gorznea and Svlalmadia. You weren't a peacekeeper though, and your uniform lacked any markings besides the white "UN" on the left arm, and your blood type. Employed by the CIA for "direct action intelligence work," you were mostly there to pick through the enemy's trash for clues. You lacked rucksacks, but the flack jackets you wore added more than enough bulk to everyone's shoulders to overfill the back of the APC. Packing the troop compartment to capacity, the 11 of you felt like sardines in a can... in a hot tumble dryer. Your partner didn't seem to mind though.
Jessica sat across from you. A faint smirk on her face as she sat comfortably, watching your helmet rattle the roof of the compartment. Her helmet sat in her lap, and in the meantime, her blond ponytail was stuck through the back of a plain olive coloured baseball cap. She was a short, canine anthro about 5'2" tall, with athletic build, and yellow fur. A white patch stretched from the bottom of her chin, over her B-cup chest, down her stomach, and across her inner arms and thighs. She often joked about how her breast size saved her career, as it was small enough to make wearing body armor a non-issue. Your lanky frame was agile and well just as well positioned for gunfighting, but the logistics of armored transport did not agree with you.
Still, the siege of Srebrenica was ongoing, and command was still on edge about a potential data breach. Better safe than sorry, but you suspected an emergency dismount would amount to little more than a life-or-death game of twister. You had to admit though, many things had gone suspiciously well for the Groznean forces over the past year. They still had yet to break the siege, the 83rd mountain division from neighboring Svalmadia was making sure of that.
Svalmadia was the more developed nation overall. A population consisting of roughly 60% human and 40% anthro enjoyed a slightly higher literacy rate, and a GDP almost 4x the size of Grozneas. Its military was mostly professional, and very well equipped. Despite being slightly outnumbered by forces deployed by the Groznean Security Council, they could usually count on enjoying local fire superiority. The Grozneans on the contrary, were a more loosely organized military force, consisting of about 65% human and 35% anthro population. They were highly ideologically driven and fought ferociously, but sorely lacked heavier equipment. Still, every time it seemed like Sval forces were beginning to exploit a break in Groznean lines, they had to be called back to respond to an urgent defense of some critical infrastructure. The Svalmadians were becoming increasingly frustrated as every time they moved in secret, their enemy seemed completely unaware, except when it mattered the most.
You didn't take the rumors about a Groznean computer virus scooping up and decoding radio traffic seriously. After all, it was 1992, and you could barely believe how compact computers were getting, but the smallest one capable of doing that kind of real time data processing still occupied an entire floor at the MIT dep. of computer science. But then again, command still wasn't sure how that Groznean SOF team knew to be there that night when you... Your felt your stomach drop for a moment, but quickly regain your composure. You still had no recollection of that night, or really anything that took place during the almost exactly 2 months following.
You try to focus on something else, but the scene forcibly replays itself in your mind. The snow on the windshield, the mundane rumble of an ugly diesel engine, and then... a mine? an ambush? You couldn't remember. When you didn't arrive at Site 44 the next day, the search party sent out after you found your truck within 40 minutes. It was still upright, and even still on the road, but had been completely burned out. The equipment you were carrying was burned with the truck, but you were nowhere to be found. That was until 8 weeks and 2 days later, and your first memory since that night.
You had slowly awoken to find yourself lying in a crumpled heap, in a parking lot outside a Svalmadian apartment building. You were dressed in the same generic UN fatigues you had been wearing, but they were oddly pristine, doubly so compared to your own condition. Trying to pick yourself up revealed that both of your legs were broken, as was one of your arms. Tired, confused, and badly bleeding, you felt little need to assess your surroundings, so you laid back down to die. Barely 60 seconds after your ill-fated attempt to stand a woman's voice cries out towards you.
A canine anthro walking to her car called out in what you thought was Svalmadian. You had thought those booklets of local phrases handed out by command were a waste of paper. You changed your mind. "Pomozite mi!" you shouted as loud as you could. It was barely above a whisper, but it was enough. Before you knew it, you were being whisked off in an ambulance to the nearest trauma unit. Another day later, and you were being transferred to St. Katherines, the hospital that the peacekeeping forces were running most of their medical operations from.
It only took 3 weeks before you began physiotherapy for your legs. The doctors had remarked that it seemed that your injuries were deliberately made to not leave any lasting damage. They also mentioned that it was clear you been given stitches before being retrieved by the ambulance, but they had been carefully removed shortly before you were dumped. Still, it only took 2 months before you were healed enough to rejoin Jess on operations.
Right on cue, you were pulled from your thoughts by a force pushing you forwards into the space between the bench seats. A hard turn from the driver signaled that you were probably about to disembark. Looking up as the machine settled, you saw Jess smiling at you as she took her ballcap off. She looked you in the eye as she swung her helmet in front of her face and onto her head. Making a stupid face during the moment it was obscured, she giggled silently at you after seeing your surprise. It was obvious how hard you tried not to smile back as you rolled your eyes exaggeratedly. While very capable, she had a tendency to not take things seriously unless in imminent danger. It could often be one of the most charming things about her, deep down, it made you worry a little.
"You ready to go to war, Anon?" She asked in a comically cheery voice as the APC ground to a halt.
"Pfft," you scoffed sarcastically "You wish Jess."
"Yea, I suppose we could do worse. Picking through rubble for medical residue is slightly preferable to open combat." She joked before following the solider on her right out the rear door.
She held her tail slightly higher than necessary as you followed her out, giving you all the space you needed to see how her ass filled out her combat pants. Stepping out into the crisp spring air you took a few steps to clear the path for those behind you. Stopping next to Jess, you looked down at her through your condensing breath. She returned a small smug grin as she slyly waggled her eyebrows at you, wordlessly asking if you liked what you saw. You coughed into your hand in a vain attempt to disguise your slightly flustered expression as you turned to lead the march towards your objective: the ruined town of Kilesjak (kill-is-yak).
Chapter 2
The gravel road in front of you stretched about half a click into the forest curving gently out of sight to the left. The snow that fell yesterday still sat on the trees flanking the road, muffling sound before it could ring through the forest. You trudged through the snow, marching down the road in a double column. The radioman walked next to you, the antenna sticking straight up out his pack knocked the occasional drift of snow off the branches above.
"Fucks sake, Ramirez." Said one of the voices behind you, "Is that really necessary?"
"Nope." The radioman next to you answered laughing, "Sure is fun though."
You laughed; glad you had taken up the leading position. The rest of the march was uneventful. You reached Kilesjak after about 10 minutes of walking, and after helping set up a radio mast, you fanned out to search the recently destroyed settlement. You and jess stuck together, looking for anywhere that medical supplies might be. Command had been made aware of some very strange pharmaceutical supplies being purchased by entities known to be shell companies for the Groznean government. They wanted you to see if any of them were turning up in the field, as it was a lot of money to spend on something that the agency could see no value in. The agency was worried that they had made some kind of breakthrough and was terrified of being left behind. So, there you were, spending another 4 hours picking your way through bandage wrappers next to week-old bloodstains on shattered cinder blocks. You carefully turned over another morphine syrette, double checking its label.
"Hey!" called Jess as you dropped the crushed packet of narcotics. You looked up to see her pointing at a mostly intact police station down at the next intersection. You could see sandbags piled around it from where you crouched, as well as the scars of small arms fire that covered its surface.
"Looks like it was used as a strongpoint." Said Jess matter-of-factly.
"Worth a look." You concurred, standing up and following her towards the largely intact structure. As you approached, you saw through one of the windows an IV bag hanging on its rolling hook.
"Jackpot." Said Jess triumphantly as she spotted it too. "Let's go."
She sped up and activated her weapon light as she reached the entrance underneath a semi-collapsed overhang. Shining it inside as you approached, you saw a thick layers of brick dust coating the steel casings and bloodstains covering the floor. You split up and checked the rooms one at a time. Jess got started on the room you had seen the IV bag in from outside, while you checked the rest of the offices. Not finding anything relevant to your search, you poked your head down the hall that led to the holding cells. The rubble that littered passage made it seem unlikely that it would have been used for treating the injured, so you returned to the makeshift emergency room that Jess was busy turning over. You could tell she heard you enter because her tail lifted slightly again as she searched the bottom shelf of a medicine cabinet. You smiled slightly to yourself again, as you turned towards a rusted fridge against the far wall. All things considered, you considered yourself pretty lucky. You weren't searching the fridge for very long before Jess called your attention to something.
"Hey Anon, You got the list?" She stood facing you, holding a stout amber bottle with a narrow mouth, and a new looking label wrapped around it. Its contents sloshed back and forth as she shook it gently.
"Yea, lemme see it." You said, abandoning your search, and stepping over to where she stood. As you did, you pulled a folded piece of paper from the documents pouch sewn into the inside of your tactical vest. Taking the bottle from Jess, you began searching its label for anything that was a match for one of the Groznean words on the list provided to you by command.
"Well??" Jess teased you, feigning impatience. Her timing was impeccable however, as she leaned over just as you went to double check what you had seen.
"Yep, that's it." You confirmed, still looking down at the bottle.
"Oh shit, really?" Jess sounded surprised; it was only the second positive ID you had made.
"Well, sorry Anon, but it looks like I mostly just made work for us." She said as she stepped to the side, drawing your attention to the cabinet of a few dozen other similarly labeled bottles behind her. You groaned as you realized the task that was in store for you. Copying down as much data as you could from the labels, you and Jess were sat on the floor. You had your knees crossed, and your rifles laying next to you when you heard footsteps crunching the approaching snow. A moment later, the radioman you had walked beside earlier shouted before approaching the door to the police station.
"Yo! Feds!" He yelled into the building he knew you were in.
"Whats up?" Jess shouted back through the broken window.
"Hey. We're leavin' early. Orders." He said loudly as he walked into the building.
"Fuck." You and Jess both said as you looked at each other.
"You're gonna have to go ahead without us." You told him a moment later when you saw him round the corner to stand in the doorway. "We still have at least an hours work here."
"'Aight, I'll let them know you're stayin'. We should be able to get you another APC in like, 2 and half hours? No guarantees. You gotta backup plan?" He asked.
"C'mon, we're 'Feds.' we've got blackhawks and UFO's on standby." You joked. He only raised one of his eyebrows.
"We've got the agency's net." Jess reassured him, pulling out a map. "I'll write the req."
"'Aight, well, here's my frequency." He said, pulling a pencil and notepad out of his own documents pouch. "Any issues, you contact me on this net, and I'll get word up the chain."
"Thanks." You said, taking the paper from him. After waiting to watch you program the channels into free slots in your radio, he wished you well before turning to leave the building. You worked for a few more minutes before Jess spoke.
"Okay lets see..." She held her pencil to a point on the map about a kilometer outside of town. "Overlord, this is sierra 1-1. You're aware of our need for transport?" Only static answered her, but that was hardly surprising given the area. After trying a few more times, she stood up.
"Come on Anon, lets go see if we can get on the roof." Eager to stretch your legs, you stood up next to her. You shared a short glance before she stepped off towards the doorway. Walking deeper into the station, she came to the corridor of cells that you had passed by before. Stepping over the rubble, she walked down to the end as you waited, doubting she'd find a ladder.
"Uhh... Anon. You're gonna wanna see this." She said, looking into one of the cells at the end of the hall. Following her into the corridor now, you walked up to where she stood, and saw a large reel-to-reel tape recorder standing on a table in the cell. Something immediately felt wrong to you.
"I don't like this." You told Jess, your eyes narrowing slightly as your gut instincts stirred. You looked around to see if there was anything else amiss, but the open cell behind you seemed completely benign. Something about that machine gave you a strange sense of deja-vu.