 So, you want to join the Foundation? Think you know what it's like after reading the reports? Pal, you don't know the half of it. I've seen shit you wouldn't fucking believe if your mama told you in Sunday school. Name's Max Lombardi, and I've been an agent for ten goddamn years. Want to know what it's like? Let me tell you about it. Don't talk to me about no fucking urban legends. Jesus. In our line of work, you'd think you'd know better. What did I mean? I mean, it ain't just fucking stories dipped shit. Oh, fine. Some of them are. I mean, sure. No gangbangers gonna shit you just cause you flashed your headlights, but a lot of them ain't. Why don't nobody hear about them? Why don't they hear about no fucking skips? We ain't the only ones dancing in this here party, you know? No, I ain't full of shit. Look, I'll tell you how I know they're real. Okay. So, this was a while back. I was out hunting elves in Jersey. What? They were short, had pointy ears, and squeaky voices. That's good enough for me. Or are they really elves? Probably not. Sure as hell didn't bake no cookies. Do I give a shit what they're really called? No, I do not. Anyways, don't interrupt. So, I'm off duty, having finished up for the day. I go drinking and I dive in the bad side of town. Reminds me of home, right? So, there's this broad, she's cute so I buy her a drink. One thing leads to another, and I go back to her place. No, it ain't professional. But what the fuck do you care what I do in my fucking off time? Jesus. So, we have some drinks, make some small talk, and I suddenly find myself crashing harder and buddy Holly and the big bopper. Yeah, you see where I'm going with this. Thing is, the bit where you wake up in a bathtub, with ice? Yeah, that's bullshit. They're taking your fucking kidneys. The fuck do you care if you live? They're just some random fuck who can point them out in a line up. Best if you don't ever turn up. Yeah, I'm still alive. Thanks for noticing. You might've also noticed something they didn't account for, proper like. I'm a big fucking guy, 300 pounds, hair under 7 foot, there's a whole fucking lot of me. And it takes a lot to take me down, and even more to keep me down. I wake up with this real bad pain in my side. I open my eyes and there's this fuck with a scalpel opening me up. I put a stop to that real fucking quick, believe me. I was a bit woozy, but I'm a trained Foundation agent. They were the bunch of amateurs. It went down about how you'd expect. So don't talk to me like I'm a fucking urban legend. Anyway, keep your eyes open. The fucker with the hooks gotta show up sometime. Let me tell you about reality benders. First off, we like to call them bixby's. Why? 1. In case somebody accidentally says something in front of a civilian, it don't tip them off. 2. If you're talking to a reality bender, they might not know all they can do, and you don't want to give them any ideas. These fuckers are dangerous. You see one, you don't engage unless you absolutely have to. If you do have to, be polite, try to think happy thoughts, maybe you'll have a good day. Probably not. Whenever you can, let the experts deal with them. We don't try to contain them the most of the time. Yeah, Foundation don't usually work that way, but we like to have a world to live in. So on this point, we usually agree with the GOC, better they're gone. Okay, so, you're fighting someone who can do pretty much anything. How do you stop them? Well, first off, they can't do anything they ain't thought of, like they can maybe all read minds, but if they ain't thought about it, don't know they can, then they're not gonna try it. Remember, they're not smarter than you, they may be able to do things different, might know things you don't, but they're not smarter. Second, they gotta concentrate. We had one asshole. He decided he was gonna know about everybody watching him. Fucker killed twenty of us before we just had a bunch of us rush him. Couldn't get all of us, you know. Which kind of Bixby's are worst? Depends how you mean. For my money, it's a kid Bixby. Almost always ends with a bullet. Sniper can usually take him out pretty easy, but actually killing him? You show me a guy who just shot a three-year-old, I show you somebody with some damage upstairs. There are worse things you'll do for the Foundation, but not a lot. Now, hardest to take down? Usually somebody around late teens, early 20s. Much younger? They don't know enough to do as much harm. Older than that? They don't got much flexibility in their thinking to try anything real out there. Late teens, early 20s, they're gonna experiment, they're gonna try anything that springs to mind. They're not gonna be slow and careful in figuring out what they can do. We get one of them, we pull out the big guns. Now, it don't always end with us killing them. Sometimes, especially older ones, we can talk with them a little. Convince them the world ain't worth it. Get them to move on somewhere else. A lot of them will even do it on their own. So far, ain't one of them ever came back. No one knows just why. Maybe this world really is that much of a shithole, or maybe something's eating them. I don't know. Anyway, now you see what I mean when I say a giant turtle ain't no big deal. Even if it's spitting fire at us. I'm real sorry about all this. I know he was in trouble soon as Barnes shot your daughter. Oh hey, quick crying. She'll be fine. He's a lousy shot. Anyway, I'm real sorry about your dog. I mean, it did bite my leg, but I guess it wouldn't have done that if I hadn't been beating you with that lamp. Hey, good news there. Rope still works. Little duct tape. It'll be good as new. Those ropes too tight? Sorry, I'd loosen them, but we don't want you getting loose and trying to escape. There's been enough scrubs tonight, don't you think? Guy you should be pissed at is your neighbor. Fucker switched to house numbers. Must've known we was onto him. You wanna know what this is all about? Eh, what the hell? Ain't like you'll remember any of this tomorrow. See? A few months ago, there were some murders. Yeah, you read about them. Skinned alive. That's a bunch of bullshit right there. You ever skinned somebody alive? They wriggle everywhere. Oh, now look what you've done. Never throw up when you're gagged. Here, let me clear your mouth. Now you scream, we're gonna have to break another finger. Okay, there you go. That's good. Right in the bucket. And now the gag goes back on, and you still got eight good fingers. See how that works? I'm just kidding about the finger. I just shoved the gag back on. You suffered enough, you know? So where was I? Oh yeah. Skinning people alive. Art as hell. That bit was made up by the papers. Down the hell a lot more exciting. Nah, he cut their throats first, then skinned them. Anyway, twenty years back. There was another case kinda like this back east. There are a few folks who have talked about it, but they don't think there was a connection on account that guy there was caught. But check this out. The fucker said he needed to eat the skin to live. How does he end up dying? Mound nutrition, even though he gets three meals a day. So we look into it, and the guy had a kid who moved out here. Yeah, your neighbor. So we come in, do some checking up, and once we did, it came pretty clear he did it. Unfortunately, looks like he got wind of us and skipped out, with the last little screw you in the bargain. So we got guys tearing up his place to figure out where he went. Oh, we'll find him, don't worry. He's sloppy. He'll screw up eventually. Anyway, get comfy. We got someone coming here who's gonna make you forget everything that happened. Good morning. This'll seem like it was just a botch robbery. We'll even set you up to look like a hero. Saved your family. How's that? By the way, how's rent around here? Seems like a nice neighborhood. Well, shit. Yeah, I'd say you got the bastard, but they don't get much more dead than that. Okay, calm down. You're not gonna get D-classed. Breathe, kid. Here's what happened. You're not the one who shoved him off the building with a live grenade. You were doing your honest best to follow orders and take the bastard in alive. You were doing just fine too, until nobody killed him. Well, yeah, obviously someone killed him. I meant nobody, the person, or people, or whatever. You've heard of nobody, right? Yeah, that one. Does mysterious shit, helps or hurts us, and then he disappears. He's the one who did it, understand? No, it's not exactly lying. Okay, so it's lying, but it's lying to cover your ass, which is practically a moral obligation at this point. Look, you're new, so I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. Everybody wants things to be simple. They want the world to make sense, even to higher-ups. Sure, they know the world's fucked up, but they want it fucked up in a way they understand. Things out here, in the field, they get messy. Sometimes we gotta do things they wouldn't understand, and sometimes we make honest mistakes. The higher-ups don't want to think that sort of thing happens, wear their hands and eyes. We go out, we fix problems for them, and so far as they're concerned, we always do it the way they want. Like, sometimes maybe you'll end up needing help from outside. We all know the other guys in the GOC, or MCND, or hell, even in the CI. We trade favors when we have to, but the higher-ups wouldn't understand it, and they'd fuck it all up. Or maybe they want us to take in something alive that turns your blood to fire by looking at you, and never mind how you're supposed to get it done. We do what we gotta do. We try to make the mission go through. Sometimes that means we gotta do things they wouldn't like. Sometimes that means we cut our losses. And then, when you write up the report, you gotta make everything nice and neat in a way the higher-ups understand. That's where nobody comes in. Everyone knows nobody does shit that doesn't make much sense. Sometimes he helps us, gives us information, works with us. Sometimes he comes in and fucks it up. The higher-ups, they understand about nobody. They don't like him, but they accept that he exists, and that there's not much we can do about it. So when we write up these reports, he's real handy for tying up loose ends. At the end of the day, the mission gets done the best we can do it, and the higher-ups get a story they can swallow. So kid, you didn't do it. You tried to take the skip in alive, but nobody got in the way. It's had some mysterious crap, I'll come up with that, and then left before we could stop him. Baby jumped off the rooftop. He does shit like that. After all, he's nobody. Is he real? I don't know, kid. Ask him yourself sometime. Okay, so what happened is? No, sir. I would not lie to you. I will contain myself to the purely factual. Yes, sir. No, sir. The squid were factual. I have pictures. No, sir. There were no squid at the village. Anyway, so we were waiting for the skip to show up when those gock bastards showed up. Forgive my language, sir. I did not know you were sensitive, sir. I will try to be delicate in the future. Anyway, the gocks, they showed up. They were trying to be sneaky, but we spotted them pretty quick. Black is not a good camouflage color. I don't care if it's dark. You want some gray in there, breakups or outline. Of course, that was just before Johnson sneezed. Yes, sir. I will be sure to mention it to him at his wake. I am sure his widow will be appreciative of constructive criticism. There were a few shots fired, but no casualties in, more in way of a handshake. Yes, sir. I am aware that I do not have sufficient authority to initiate hostilities with a group of interest. We were just shooting at each other, you know, friendly-like. The gock commander inquired as to the nature of our business there, and suggested that it might be best if we left the disposition of the skip to them. I suggested that instead it might be best if they find another skip to kill, as we had prior interest in the one expected to soon arrive. The conversation moved on, and he inquired as to the health and quality of my sexual partners. I responded with politely-worded questions as to whether or not his mother had studied the field of animal husbandry, as he looked like someone with farming blood. The warmth and politeness we showed each other, sir, it would melt the cockles of your heart. Our collaboration ranged to many subjects which are not germane to this discussion, therefore I shall not speak of them further, except to mention that my men have a much larger vocabulary than what I would previously have credited them. They truly are a credit to the Foundation. It was after about five minutes of this that the window started bleeding, and we realized that the skip was getting close. With nary had thought to our own safety, we assumed position of maximum tentacality for the skip's expected entry, which were by great coincidence also mostly covered from the gocked positions. Then we found out where our intelligence had fucked up yet again. I am sorry, sir, I do not realize that you were a s- an intelligence operative. I meant only that despite their great efforts, which surely involved many hours of hazardous duty behind a desk fighting paper cuts, they missed the fact that this fucker ate light. Excuse me again, sir, I meant this fascinating and no doubt valuable specimen. Anyway, it went pitch dark. The gocks were apparently fully aware of this ability. A fact they mentioned only as a curiosity what you might mention to your erstwhile colleagues in Intel. They had night vision goggles, and seemed to feel they were fully equipped to deal with said skip. I can only speculate based on their screaming that they were not briefed on its vulnerability to silver, though you know, some things are universal. Anyway, we started firing blindly in the direction of the noises. Yeah, I think we probably killed a few of them, but you didn't hear them, trust me. I don't think they would have complained. Later we did some cleanup and pulled out. If the gocks pissed, well, they jumped into our op. They knew the risk, same as us. If it had gone a little different, we'd have been the one scattered across Angola, and it wouldn't have been their fault, neither. Excuse my French, sir, but shit happened. So who won in the end? Well, most of us didn't die, but we ended up terminating the skip, so you know, call it a draw. I don't pay to get too close to anyone on our line of work. They tell you that all the time. You will, though. We're stupid like that. First time you're in real danger, you should be thinking, gosh, I'm in constant threat of my life. Our relationship would be a distraction and not fair to the other person. Unfortunately, you are made for passing on your genes. First time you're in any real danger, every part of your body, every fiber of your being is going to say, I almost died, commence to have been sex. This is because your body's an idiot. It thinks you're still a primitive human in the Great Rift Valley, and the danger it has in mind is the leopard coming to eat you, so it wants you to make replacement, fast. So you're probably going to ignore all this advice. You're going to find someone else, maybe a cute girl you meet downtown, or God forbid another agent. You've seen the videos, you've heard the stories, you know how we can end up. Imagine that's someone you care about. Yeah, that's fun. Now the Foundation ain't going to tell you you can't have a relationship. The higher-ups ain't that stupid. Never give an order of what ain't going to be followed. Instead they send you to counseling. They hope they can change your mind. Hey, you know what they play in the counselors lobby all the time? Old Yeller. Yeah, that's the subtlety and understanding we've come to expect of the Foundation. But like I said, it doesn't do much good. You're probably going to do it anyway. And I'm just hoping maybe one or two of you is smart enough to listen. The rest of you, though, are going to get busy. Maybe get married, maybe have kids, best case scenario, the stress of the job drives you to a divorce, worst case scenario, one of you had to put a bullet into the other one, because it's the kindest thing left. And God help you if you ever fall for a skip. Seriously, don't do that shit. Was I ever married? Yeah, once. Her name? I don't remember her name. They won't let me. I think she was beautiful. Welcome to your orientation. I am Agent Max Lombardi. I am your instructor on account that my leg is broken and someone in person now hates me. Now, you're here because the possibility exists that you're not jackasses and might could be useful in the containment of anomalous items what are going to try to kill you. So, let's start with the basic mission. We are out to find weird shit and bring it back, and then to contain it. Your more scholarly colleagues are the ones who study it from behind bulletproof glass and bitch about how hard their job is. They are receiving a similar briefing in Room 67. They got donuts and coffee in there, just in case you were hoping there might be some modicum of justice in this cold, uncaring bitch of a universe. Anyway, some of yous are going to be retrieval, like me, while others are going to be containment. You might even switch it around sometimes. Retrieval generally is preceded by investigation by Intel, Intel who also have coffee and donuts, in case you were wondering how far the budget stretches will go forth, find leads, gather facts, and then tell you sweet fuck all. On receipt of this dearth of information, you will go out to exotic locales where you will be forbidden from stopping and having a drink or conversing with the locals that aren't trying to kill you. You will go to where Intel tells you the whatever the fuck is. An agent much higher on the food chain than you will go and talk to people for the purpose of figuring out what's going on. Do not envy this agent. If it goes wrong, he's in the worst place possible. Anyway, once he gives you the go-ahead, the rest of the team comes in and takes out the skip as quietly as possible. Skip, by the way, is what we call set Adobo's entities. I am sure I do not need to tell you where it comes from. Now, sometimes skips don't come along so quiet as we would like. I mean, sure, maybe it's a nice inanimate object that don't hurt no one. Or some guy don't even want to go around free if he's hurting someone. Most of the time it's something easy, but sometimes it's something that really don't want to come along quiet like and it has the means to enforce its wishes. So you apply stronger coercion. Ideally Intel will have figured out what this skip can take and you can proceed directly to enough firepower to knock it loopy. Ideally we would have donuts and coffee. Sometimes we usually go in knowing jack shit, you'll start off with your bare hands and work up from there. Now, at a certain point it looks like you're gonna have to choose between catching the skip and coming home on your own two feet. Who here is willing to die right on a give up on the mission? One, two, three, four, okay, you five fail. Counter to what some dingbats will tell you, the latter is actually the preferred option. Capturing skips is the name of the game, but fighting agents who can actually do the fucking job is hard, and you can always catch more skips later on. Your best option is to run the fuck away. That way they can always send someone else in to get the fucker. If you can't and it comes down to a life or limb decision, that's when you pull out your gun and you shoot the fucker. If that don't work, you shoot it again, because 99 times out of 100, shooting will work if you do enough of it. This don't mean you gotta leave to shoot anything at moves because Agent Lombardi told you so. You do it when you gotta. We aim to bring these things in whole and intact, but if that ain't gonna happen, the foundation will settle where studying what's left. So, them's the basics of retrieval. The rest of you are gonna be involved in containment. Now, containment is in some ways easier. You know where the skip is, and hopefully you got some idea of what the damn thing does and how to stop it. However, there are some complications. First off, the skip might be watching you too, depending on how smart it is. That means it got a better idea of what we can do. It gets out, it's gonna know what the uniforms mean, and who's likely to be armed. It's also gonna be pissed. Ideally, it is more pissed of the guys and white coat sticking needles into it. But it might remember it was your buddies who rolled it up and brought it there. Also, unless you're at a single skip site, if it gets loose, it might let others shit out too, and suddenly you're dealing with five or six skips instead of just one. Now, they might just start fighting amongst themselves, but you're gonna have to go in the middle of all that to break them up, and they ain't just gonna play along. Also, remember how I said most of the time, retrieval is going after something harmless? Yeah, you don't get that luxury. Sure, some of the skips you're guarding are safe, but some of them will rip off your head and scoop out your brains, and you're around them every fucking day. This is especially true if you're at one of those single skip sites, I mentioned, because they don't put them kind of resources to work to watch the fucking men in the machine. So, that's life as an agent for you. Questions? Yeah, with the glasses and a turtleneck. Alweard? Well? I once saw a guy have his bones turned into jelly. Grape jelly? Yes, they did test. They all came back grape. That weird enough? Guy with the buzz cut, shoot. Who decides what we go after? Generally, it'll be a site director in charge of retrieval. Ultimately, it goes up to the O5 Council, with a really more general strategy than day-to-day operations. Okay, you with the messed up piercing. I don't know where this shit comes from, it's Intel's job to figure that shit out. Please refer back to my previous statements on Intel. Red shirt, third row. Health benefits? They're great if you come back alive. We've got the best doctors on the planet, and if it's possible to get you back on your feet again, they'll do it. Yes, you in the back, with the duck. The upside to the job? Well, for one thing, we get paid pretty good. For another, if we don't do the job, the world will probably end. That ain't a joke, seriously. Somebody has to do this job. Don't you want to live to see tomorrow? Good choice. Okay, tubby, what's your question? How do you get into one of the groups with coffee and donuts? You go fuck yourself, that's hell. Okay, the skinny twerp with the goatee. Clef? He's a researcher slash agent slash I don't know what the fuck. Seriously, most of the stories you hear about him are bullshit. The rest are also bullshit but may be based on something that kinda happened once it was squinted. In any case, you ain't Clef, so don't get any ideas. When you've been around a while, then you can start thinking about emulating him, except you'll be too smart too. Okay, the dang by the door. The monkey? That's Dr. Bright. He's harmless. That being said, you got a taser, he has genitalia. You do the math. So that concludes my briefing. Since you've been so good, I arranged to get punchin' cookies. It ain't as good as coffee and donuts, but hey, ours ain't full of laxatives. Hey pal, nice costume. Yeah, I like the way it's just your face with a couple of strings attached. Okay, that's far enough. Yeah, it's a real piece, so why don't you come along quiet like? That's the ticket, just over there, we can have a little talk. So, the reason I'm here is, stop that, it ain't gonna work. We had plenty of time to figure out what it was you did, but we gotta fix for it. So you can just relax, you're collared, so you might as well find out who by. Anyway, the reason I'm here is that I'm part of a group what contains objects or people what are of an unusual nature. Yeah, like yourself, it sucks to be you, I know. Now you could try to run, but this gun will stop you before you get too far. Won't kill ya, but you'll get a hell of a headache when you wake up. So, I came here to find out if the rumors were true, and there really was something here matching your description. We saw you a couple days ago, but I figured we'd see you out in the town tonight. I always liked Halloween, I could have any face I wanted. You got a face like mine, you look forward to wearing a mask, so I sympathize. Only time of the year to get to come out and mingle. Anyway, we've just been waiting for you to come out where we can nab ya. My partner's watching us, and pretty soon, we'll go for a ride in our van to your new home. Ain't fair? Yeah, I know, I get that a lot, and you're right, it ain't. This were an ideal world if we could all live in peace. Unfortunately, you and me were born in a cold bastard of a universe what doesn't give a fuck about fairness or justice. All we got is the best we can do. Your ma? I'm sorry, kid. We can't go back to see her. I'll make sure to get someone to talk to her so she don't worry too much. Honestly, she's probably not gonna remember a whole lot of this. It's one of the things we do, but we'll make sure she's okay. You got my word. Hell, tell ya what. We bring you in, we say you agreed on conditioning to get some cash to her, make sure she's nice and comfy for the rest of her life. The higher-ups will buy it. First lesson for ya. Those who cooperate have wiped a hell of a lot easier than the ones who fight back. They get what they want no matter what, but you could make things easier on them. They ain't stupid. They'll reward good behavior. I can't let you go, kid. You're in too deep. Yeah, you say you won't hurt nobody, and I believe ya, but we ain't the only ones out there. There's other folks in this game, only they don't want to keep you contained. They want to kill you, or worse, turning into a weapon. They can make you hurt people, I've seen it done, and they'll hurt people to get to you. People like your ma. See, there's a lot of threads out there. Some of them are other people, some of them are things that would destroy the world if we let them. I've seen what's out there, and it ain't friendly. Some of it's wonderful, some of it may help us, but some of it sincerely scares the shit out of me, and I don't scare easy. There are so many things out there to get us. Nobody's got to be out there on humanity's side. Nobody's on your side? Yeah, but I'll tell you what, you have any real problems? You think you're being treated too cruel? Tell your guard to get word to Max Lombardi. I don't got a whole lot of pull myself, but I can maybe put in a word in the ear of someone who does. Ain't gonna promise nothing, nobody's gonna make everything right, you know? We just do the best we can. Fuck, motherfuckin'. Open fire, open fire! Shit, it's still coming! Don't shoot in the head, I- Kimura, fuck! Shoot the legs, shoot the fuckin' legs! Shit, and get the blast doors! Pull back you sons of bitches! Okay, we got some breathing space, let's do the damage. Kimura, you're gonna be okay. I've seen worse. Just lie back a few, we'll see to ya. I hunkered down you assholes. Sir? Orders? Sir? Boys? Secure the perimeter, me and the captain need to have a chat. Sir, you gonna be okay? No, excuse me. With all due respect, sir, you are gonna be okay. Because my boys are counting on you to get us out of here. So where are your goddamn orders? Okay, get things secured, I'm gonna go do that. You just get your head right, okay? This time on a bug hunt like this, you're bound to get a little freaked, it's okay. Jones? Hamoody? Report? Backup power is gonna last at least another hour, plenty of time. Don't worry, we got this. Ain't we the baddest motherfuckers in the land? Keep your eyes sharp, your head down, and we'll make it out okay. Jackson, how's Kimura? Okay, just stick with him as long as possible, we'll keep you covered. I'm not leaving alone until, well, he shouldn't ought to be alone right now. Denver, keep working on comms, we gotta figure out what the fuck the rest of the site's up to, see if they're working on power or we're on our own. Aye, captain, how ya doin'? Look, did you think this shit was gonna be easy? I'm gonna be frank with ya, this is what the real world's like, this is what me and my boys deal with. You wanted combat experience, this is it. You maybe thought you'd just keep your head down and get enough experience to get promoted, but that just ain't gonna happen. You're in this unit, you gettin' to blender, just like the rest of us. So here's the situation, we ain't seen the insurgents since the first attack. We've heard lots of gunfire though, so whatever they're after, they ain't got it yet. I think they're on this level, but I can't be sure until we make contact. The ugly fuckers trying to get through the blast doors? I don't think it'll manage for a while. Only when the Oxpower goes out completely, the blast doors will be sealed shut. However, I don't want to count on it being stopped cold. More, if it can't get through this way, it's gonna go somewhere else, maybe get away. Oxpower gonna go down in maybe 45 minutes, and we'll have even more breaches. We need to get power back online and keep it's attention so it doesn't try to get off site. Once we got power, the automatic system should let us trap it pretty easy until help arrives. So what are your orders? The… Sir? We can't set off the fucking nuke. That's the last fucking resort. Even if we get a major breach, we ain't the only asses in the area. Site 34s? No, sir. We haven't been able to contact them, but that's because we're underground and the comm system's out. Yes, I'm sure they're… Yes, sir. Yes, I understand. I'll give the orders. Jones? Your squad's going with the captain. You gotta get him to the shelter. Take him through the tunnels. It'll take longer, but the fucker can't fit through there, so you should be safer. Keep your heads down, though. We got insurgents running around, and God only knows what the fuck else they let out of their cages. The rest of you are gonna move down to Hall 42. Make a ruckus. Get Fugly's attention. Be ready to shut the blast door as soon as it gets close. Barnes, you're with me. Yes, Captain? No, sir. I ain't going with you. I'm gonna make one more try to fix the power, and then I won't get into the fucking shelter until I ever last one of my boys' air. Yes, sir. I see. I still ain't going. Don't give that order. We'll both regret it. Thank you, sir. I'll have power back up by the time you get to the shelter. I don't. Then you can think about setting off the nuke. So after that, me and Barnes, we went to get the power turned on, and with a long shot, we have to cap them wasn't going to wait for my boys, I was going to give them the best chance possible. Yes, sir. I know my place with my men, especially with our commanding officer out, but I'm an engineer. I was the only one who could get the power running. Like I said, the best chance they had. Barnes was with me every step, well, almost every step. Yes, I did leave him, but it was for 10-15 minutes tops. I had to get some breakers resetting, and I needed him watching the doors. Anyway, it took us some time, but we got the power back on. Once we did, we were able to get ugly contained pretty easy, and the reinforcements from Site-34 clean up the insurgents. Jones told me he was ordered by the captain to cover his retreat down the tunnels after he got pinned down by insurgents. We found the captain dead in the shelter. Never got to the button, doesn't look like. No, sir. I didn't know the shelter's cameras were working. What'd they pick up? Tall fucker in a trench coat. Sounds like nobody. Wonder what the fuck he was doing there. I'll talk to security, get a rundown of everything missing. No, sir. I don't know how he got through all of us. I'll talk to the boys to see if anyone saw anything. Taking from me, though. I bet they didn't. You don't see nobody unless he wants you to see him. Almost like he was trying to make a point or something. Heh, it's funny. I always tell my boys, don't give your life for the Foundation. Make some other bastard give his, but here I am. Fucking hypocrite. That's what I am, but nobody ever promised me retirement, so that's okay. I figure I got another 10 minutes before they make us through the door. This is back up at 15 miles away, and I know Barnes ain't gonna make it to him in time. Hey Barnes, if you're still listening, you better make it, you fucking asshole. You hear me? This place is gonna blow pretty soon. There are plenty of safety protocols in one of these plants, but I'm an engineer. I know exactly the wrong things to do and in what order. I don't know just when, but it'll take out a good chunk of the countryside when it does. Wait till after before you come in. There ain't time for anyone to come get me. Nobody's getting out of here alive if I have anything to say about it. Got one last bullet and damned if I'm gonna waste it on those assholes. So I don't know who else can hear me. Fluckers broke the receiver, but so far as I can tell, the transmitter's still good. So I wanna say something to the rest of you. We are the ones who saved the world. Not the doctors, not the council, no one else. Us. We're the last line of defense. The only line. Remember that. Don't die for the foundation. Don't fight for the foundation. Fight for the six billion folks who won't wake up tomorrow if you don't. That's worth dying for. Some old fart wants to play with skips, he can go fuck himself. You ain't machines. You ain't 10 soldiers. You're people. Men and women who do the shit nobody else can do, and people make a difference. There's a damn big difference between doing the job because you were told to, and doing it because gotta be done. I don't care if it's the same fucking job, there's a goddamn difference. There's gotta be, or what the hell else are we fighting for? And I want you to remember, each and every one of you, that you ain't alone. You understand? None of us are ever alone. We got each other. Every agent that's alive is there to watch your back. No matter what happens, you're one of us. Doesn't matter if you're a saint or an asshole, you're family. You got hundreds of brothers and sisters right there in the shit with you, ready to pull you out. And when you're alone, you're still not alone. Every agent who came before, everyone who's coming after you, they are with you. Everyone you ever trained with, everyone who's watched your back or bitched to you at meals of with you. You carry them with you, so long as you remember that you ain't alone, and you pass on everyone you meet. When we die, we deserve to know that we ain't alone. No matter what happens, we got each other. Oh, and one last thing, I'm proud of you. If we ever work together, no matter what else I said to you, I'm proud of you. And if I ain't never laid eyes on you, just for doing the job, I'm proud of you. It's been an honor, guys, and when you come in, if this don't finish them off, give them hell for Max Lombardi.