The cost of human life in battle would never be proportionate, especially when against unusual odds. Neshoba knew the type of carnage war always brought in its wake. However, he never expected one man, one single person, to bring about so much destruction on their lonesome with nothing but scrap and a few outdated firearms. Jackson was the perfect killing machine; a tool only meant for murder when the Order needed something to die. But Jackson had no directive, no objective that the Order had given him. All the death was caused by his free will, a targeted effort to hurt someone who caused him pain.
October 18th, 2016. ProTech Research Facility in Georgia. Now nothing but ruin, the ground covered in murky blood as the rain slowly washes it away. The landscape reminded him of old World War 2 photos he was shown during history class as a child. Scattered around were a dozen bodies and dismembered limbs, slain by an unstoppable monster as he laid siege to the area. To his relief, he only noticed the dead were the mercenaries sent to kill the reptile, not civilians or people who came to work there. If he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed the research facility was just a base of operations for ProTech.
Neshoba knew the purpose of the attack, the reasoning behind Jackson’s rampage through an armed compound. It took some digging, but that facility was once owned by MODOC. Jackson didn’t attack it because he wanted to let off steam. He wanted to attack it because the people who tried to kill him kept one of the dead organisation’s facilities running after all those years. He wanted to strike them where it hurts and to send a message.
The mercs put up a fight. There were a few spots where Neshoba noticed blue blood and chunks of green scales splattered all over. But he couldn’t find the reptile’s body to confirm his death. For all he knew, Jackson was off to continue his hunt for the person responsible for the murder of his loved one. But he still hoped the reptile died or was captured so there could be an end to this madness, even if there were people who knew of the existence of monsters. An end to the death was a good thing, in Neshoba's eyes. There has been enough death; there doesn’t need to be any more.
However, Neshoba wasn’t at the facility to look for Jackson or to figure out if he was still alive. There was something about Jackson that linked him to the place. As he went through the narrow, bullet-ridden and blood-covered corridors while stepping over piles of corpses. He searched for the one room that might have answers to his most burning question that caused this conflict. Why kill Jackson in the first place?
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‘How long before the police turn up?’ Neshoba said over the earpiece.
‘A few minutes, tops. But you must be quick!’ Claire warned him. ‘Look, Nes, what can you possibly be looking for? I doubt they will have anything of importance.’
Finding an old document storage, Neshoba walks inside to look over the dates. ‘This is before your time, but before we digitalise everything, we would put our most sensitive documents and records on paper and store them away.’
‘I know that, but what does this have to do with anything?’
‘I am going off memory here, and a lot of hope it works. But I remember when I was young, MODOC would have a reputation for not destroying documents instead choosing to hide them so they could always go back to it.’ Neshoba pulled out a box dated 1938 to look over it. ‘Since we are dealing with someone who might have ties with MODOC, it would mean they knew the importance of this place and did everything to make sure the files here are kept away from the Order’s eyes.’
‘That wouldn’t make sense. The Order Diplomatics would have known of this place and would’ve done something to remove every document.’
‘Exactly, but something tells me someone allowed this place to keep those documents.’ Neshoba replied before pulling out a file that caught his eye. ‘But calling off the hunt when it started, the suspicious nature of the order to kill him. I am no Disciplinarian, but I can tell something is off about the whole thing. No one in MODOC should be alive, yet the person who is sending mercs to kill Jackson is using their old codes. MODOC wasn’t thoroughly exterminated; it seems to have been a selective culling.’
The document Neshoba was looking at was mostly blanked out, even what was MODOC’s logo. Except for a few details. The coordinance of a containment facility, and the name of who signed the form. Brian Leichenberg, the current CEO of ProTech’s energy department. There was no denying it anymore, and now he had the evidence to prove that Brian was directly involved and a part of MODOC.
‘And we just found our guy.’ Neshoba said to himself.
‘Nes, time to come alive.’ Claire blares over the earpiece. ‘The police are just about to rock up. I suggest you stop whatever you are doing and bug out now.’
‘Understood,’ Neshoba replied, stuffing the file under his jacket as he quickly made his way out of the research facility. But his head weighed heavily on him as the knowledge that he had stumbled on an actual conspiracy struck him. Someone in the Order wasn’t just complacent but could have been involved with the recent strings of deaths and destruction because of Jackson’s recent return. Planned or not, someone had to answer for their crimes.
