A spy is sent to gather information on a possible new weapon and he finds more than he bargained for.     Document 5 Pilot Episode The Mission By Amethyst

I kept an ear out for trouble as I scaled the outer wall of the Paektu Mountain research complex. The grip gloves and boots were working well, and, placing one hand and foot at the time, I was able to scale the thirty foot wall without the use of rope and grappling hook. Both of those would make scaling the wall time consuming and risk my discovery. Discovery was not an option given the current state of affairs between the United States and North Korea. Not only would my government disavow any knowledge of my presence here, but the North Koreans could use it as an excuse to expand their military.

Because of that, and the fact that I was rather fond of breathing, I had been fitted with the latest gear for this mission. The substance in the fingertips and palms of the grip gloves, and the underside of the toes of the boots, would allow me to stick to just about anything, while my bodysuit and hood had a bunch of little mini cameras and projectors built in that would allow me to blend into the background, so long as I wasn’t moving too fast. Add to that my talent for getting into tight places and this job should be a piece of cake.

My talent for getting into tight places was basically just a nice way of saying that I was small for a guy. I was barely five foot eight and, despite my constant workouts, I was more slim and toned than muscular. In the spy business though, you take every edge you can get and my small size had saved my ass on more than one occasion. I know, when most people think of spies they think of James Bond; handsome and debonair using charm to get into the enemy lair and cars with rocket launchers and such to escape. In reality though, we try not to get too much attention and usually just try to sneak in and out without anyone ever knowing we were there, we tend to live longer that way.

I was over the wall and, after managing to sneak past a pair of guards patrolling the inside wall, I made my way to the main complex. My intel said that the office I was looking for was on the third floor so before the patrol I had avoided, or another one, could return I began to silently ascend the wall. Once I was at the right floor, I moved toward the corner office where I was told I should be able to access the data that I was here to retrieve.

The North Koreans were working on some sort of power armor and the intel said that they already had a completed prototype. My mission was to gather all data pertaining to that power armor: Blueprints, technical notes, the works. When I had the data, I was to get to the extraction point and return States-side to deliver the data for our tech guys to assess. The creator of the armor was a target of opportunity that I was to take out if I managed to get a chance. He was an American researcher who had switched sides when our military refused to fund the development of his design, which just seemed like a pipe dream at the time since he had no data to back up his theories.

His theories had apparently proved correct though, or I wouldn’t be here. The fact that he had made it work, and for the North Koreans of all people, made our government rather displeased with Dr. Mason. In North Korea he had been given all the resources and manpower he needed and was made the supervisor for this whole research center. He got to develop his pet project, and oversee other military research as well. Gathering any other useful military research data was a secondary goal, but only if the opportunity presented itself.

I inched over to the window and, after a look inside to make sure it was all clear, I opened the latch using the magnetic device that I had been given for that purpose. I would have just used a laser or a glass cutter, but I wanted to leave no evidence of my presence behind. Once the latch was popped, I carefully raised the window and slipped inside the darkened room. The coast was clear so I made my way over to the desk, and the computer which held my primary objective.

The computer was on in power save mode, but when I moved the mouse I found that it was at the password screen. This was not unexpected, so I looked for a USB port and plugged in the USB device that would decrypt the password and give me access. I would later use the same device to store the data. Once the decryption program had done its thing, and I had access, I immediately noted the one positive thing about Dr. Mason being a defector; his computer was using an English Operating System, and all his files and reports were in the same language. At least this would save us the time and effort of having the files translated.

I quickly found all the data on the power armor. There were technical readouts, schematics, blueprints, and even information on the alloys they were using in the construction. None of the other projects seemed interesting to me, but I copied all the data from the projects folder regardless. To be safe I backed them all up on a second USB drive as well. I had closed all of the documents, and was about to run the program which would corrupt all the data on the hard drive beyond usability, when I noticed a lone file on the desktop simply titled ‘Document 5’. I briefly wondered if it was something so unimportant that it wasn’t given a name, but it was possible that it could be meant to just look unimportant as well.

I opened the file and the top of the page was covered in some type of complex chemical formula. I scrolled down and found some notes that were made underneath. “Formula SS-13 is working wonderfully. All test subjects that we have injected have displayed a marked increase in speed, strength, agility, and stamina, as well as accelerated healing. There does seem to be one side effect, but it is relatively minor considering the benefits, and our three new super soldiers should be able to adapt in time. Our remaining sample will be kept in the safe in lab 5 until we are ready for mass production.”

Super soldiers? I couldn’t let that sample, or the data, stay with the North Koreans. I saved that file to the second USB drive and gave the command which would corrupt all the data. Then I pocketed the USB drive with the first one, in the left thigh pocket of my bodysuit, and took a look out the door of the office. Finding the hallway clear, I slipped out of the room and moved stealthily along the wall. From what I recalled of the blueprints, lab 5 was on the second floor on the opposite side of the building.

There were a lot of guards roaming the halls so as soon as I managed to find an air duct I made my way inside, sealed the grate behind me, and crawled through the vents toward the elevator shaft. Once there, I carefully removed the grate and climbed down the shaft with the grip gloves and boots. I left the grate off for the moment, since I would likely need it for my exit, and once I made it to the second floor I opened the air duct there as well and made my way inside. Once safely ensconced within, I referred to the copy of the building blueprint I had brought and made my way along the ducts to lab 5. The lab and the safe were both environmentally sealed, and I wondered just what was in the formula to make them take those kinds of precautions. I just decided to be as careful as possible, and to warn the lab techs when I got the sample home to make similar precautions while it was being analyzed.

I figured that when I removed the sample from the safe that my being here was going to be a little harder to cover up, so I decided to switch to plan B. Plan B was to make it look like rather sloppy industrial espionage by another research lab. I smiled as I spread out a few hairs that I had obtained in case it was necessary. I had managed to remove them from the shoulder of a cab driver’s jacket as I reached over the seat to pay him. He had been very rude to me while I was making a show of playing tourist, and I figured that this should make us even.

The safe was a good electronic one, but it was fairly easily bypassed with a pass code cracker and soon I had the injector gun with the sample in hand. The real problem was how to get the sample out of there without some sort of container to hold it. I could just destroy it, since I had the formula, but our scientists might want to test it and find out whatever that minor side effect is before producing it ourselves. I put the injector gun in a large belt pouch and spread some further ‘evidence’ to support the industrial espionage cover before I made my way back into the air duct.

Why is it that whenever things to be running their smoothest on a mission that the shit always hits the fan? I was back on the outer wall and ready to make my escape when one of the guards inside the complex discovered me and started shooting. I turned around to set myself for the downward climb and I took a hit to the left thigh. Fuck getting shot hurts. I grimaced and began climbing down the wall, and I was more than halfway down when the pain in my thigh caused me to lose my concentration and fall the rest of the way.

I managed to get to my feet and hobbled into the woods, propping myself against a tree as I paused to check my status. The shot to my thigh was bleeding heavily and one of the flash drives had been destroyed. Things couldn’t get much worse, but to be safe I checked the injector gun. I cursed as I saw that the vial inside was cracked from my fall and starting to leak. “Yeah this just keeps getting better,” I muttered. I wasn’t sure how I was going to take to get to the extraction point with my leg wounded; it was at least a mile away, and by then the super soldier formula would likely be mostly leaked away.

Then it hit me. The file had mentioned that the formula gave accelerated healing as well as increasing those other attributes. Maybe I could use it and give myself a better chance to escape with all the data. At least it wouldn’t be wasted, and we could probably make more later. I took the injection gun, jabbed it into my outer thigh, and pulled the trigger. Then I discarded the gun and began to hobble toward the extraction point as quickly as I could. I knew I wouldn’t have long before they started searching the woods I was in, so I ignored the pain and pressed forward.

There were a few close calls in the woods, but I managed to stay ahead of them somehow and make it to the extraction point where a stealth aircraft with VTOL capabilities was waiting for me. I staggered aboard as quickly as I could. I was starting to feel lightheaded and sluggish, most likely from the blood loss, and I felt hot all over. “What took you so long? the pilot asked. “Did you at least get the data? Shit, you look like you need medical attention, hold on a sec.”

“Forget it,” I snapped. “There were a few hiccups and I was being followed through the woods. Don’t worry, the data is secure, just get us the hell out of here.” I’m ashamed to say that I may have passed out after that.

We were still in the air when I awoke. I was feeling lightheaded, but at least I hadn’t bled to death so maybe that formula had worked. It was strange though, things felt off, different. It was probably to be expected with more strength, stamina, etc., but the things I was feeling didn’t seem to be related to that. For one thing, my custom fitted boots and gloves seemed too big, it felt like my hands and feet were swimming in them. There was also an almost painful squeezing sensation in my chest, which I was currently laying on, and my bodysuit felt tighter in some places than it was before. Then there was the long blond hair falling to the floor around my head. Where was that coming from? I usually kept my hair close cropped, and this was a few shades lighter than mine.

I tried to get to my feet and stumbled a bit. My hair felt heavy, and it seemed to reach almost to my thighs. I tried to brush it out of my face and behind my shoulders so it was out of the way. Maybe hair growth was the side effect they had mentioned. My balance also seemed completely off though, and it felt like my center of gravity was too. I knocked something over as I tried to move toward the pilot’s compartment and heard the pilot ask, “Hey, are you okay back there?”

“Yeah I just feel a little weir...” I started to reply before the sound of my own voice stopped me. That was not my voice, it was higher, lighter, and it almost sounded like a girl’s voice. I looked down and for a moment I just stared, uncomprehending at the pair of sizable bumps in the chest of my bodysuit. Finally I cursed, “What the fuck?”