Capítulo 118: Foggy road -114
[Elven weeks after Stark's kidnapping]
[SITE-009]
Alex found himself sitting in his bunker playing with SCP-99999 as he thought about maybe summoning a new SCP again. It had already been almost three weeks since the last one, and he needed to get it done soon.
Though it wasn't something he was looking forward to. Even less so since it would bring about two SCPs rather than just the one.
The list of SCP objects not yet in containment was already longer than the list holding objects already in containment, and he really didn't want to continue to add to that list. Yet there was little he could do.
He wished the containment work would be faster, but it was very tedious and required a lot of people to put in a lot of work. At least he had received good news that one of the Keter class objects out there had been found. So, it was only a matter of time before that was in containment.
"I wish you would hurry up and update you stupid system; that new tool would be real handy for sure." He mumbled before tightening his grip on SCP-99999.
With SCP-99999 in hand he was feeling a bit more reassured about the upcoming summing, though he really didn't want to use it.
"System, please summon another SCP." He ordered. Holding a breath as he awaited the system's response.
[Ding! Understood Host, please stand by as the random SCP is summoned!]
[Ding! Warning! SCP-166 has appeared!]
[Ding! Warning! Host a SCP has appeared in the world and is outside Foundation control! Host is asked to deal with the situation and follow the Foundation's goal of Securing, containing, and Protecting!]
[Ding! Congratulations to Host for getting SITE-700, a class 3 Foundation facility in Ireland! 500 class C combat personnel, 50 research personnel, 100 administrative personnel, and 30 maintenance personnel!]
[Ding! Warning! Host a SCP has appeared in the world and is outside Foundation control! Host is asked to deal with the situation and follow the Foundation's goal of Securing, containing, and Protecting!]
As expected, he received yet another warning of an SCP appearing but didn't know which one appeared; he could only hope it wasn't something too bad. Hopefully, as soon as the system finished the update, he would be able to find out which one it was.
After all, the System had said that it would allow him to see where ALL SCP objects were located in real-time. So since it specified that it was all objects, he expected he would also know these ones, and from that, he should surely also get to know which ones they were.
For a while, Alex just sat there, watching the monitors in front of him. If some alarm suddenly went off, he was ready to use SCP-99999 right away. But as minutes slowly went by and nothing happened, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Guess the world isn't ending…"
"Well, at least this SCP-166 isn't too bad. Even more so, it might not be too hard to find if it appears in an area similar to where it was found in the SCP universe; after all, not many places fit the bill there."
Within a few moments and a few commands given, there were people moving out to check all the most likely places, from all catholic places of worship to where the object's mother lived and died.
With that done, he stood up and turned to leave, though not before patting the pocket where SCP-99999 was hidden, making sure it was there before he left the bunker.
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*Knock knock*
Someone was knocking on his door, which was strange, given he didn't expect anyone one, and he sure hadn't buzzed anyone inside either. 'Probably a neighbor who locked themselves out?' he mused as he went to answer the door.
"Yes, yes, I'm coming, I'm coming." He said loudly as he opened the door.
Outside stood not a distressed neighbor nor a door-to-door salesman; at least, he didn't think so. Instead, there stood what he could only consider as a secret service type agent, a black suit, black sunglasses indoors, and an earpiece.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"Yes, sorry to disturb you, doctor, I was sent by the higher-ups rather suddenly, so I didn't get to call ahead of time." The man said in an attempt to reassure him.
"I was sent here to offer you a job, a very well paying job, though also one where discretion is expected." He continued.
"And why am I being given this offer?" He couldn't help but ask, feeling slightly suspicious about this whole get-up.
"Well, apparently there is a need for the best of the best when it comes to surgery, and your name is already among them. So I was sent to hopefully enlist your help with an operation."
He liked hearing he was considered as one of the best. Sure he always knew that himself, but it did indeed feel good to hear it from others. "Well, yes, I admit I am rather good, but I still don't understand why you didn't just go to the hospital and talk with them about it?"
"Well, you see, it is supposed to be highly secret; the few in the know the better type of deal. Plus, the surgery will take place at an already chosen facility where you would need to stay for at least three days, before four, if you pass the first test."
"First test?" he inquired, his eyebrows raising in skepticism. The notion of a "test" before performing a critical surgery was unusual and added a layer of secrecy that intrigued yet troubled him.
"Yes, a competency test to ensure you are up to the task. It's nothing to worry about for someone of your caliber," the agent reassured him smoothly, his tone suggesting that this was routine, although clearly, it was anything but.
He pondered the situation, his mind racing through the possible implications and risks involved in accepting such an opaque offer. The allure of being challenged and recognized as "one of the best" was tempting, but the secretive nature raised red flags.
"Can you at least tell me who or what this operation involves?" he probed, hoping to glean more information before making a decision.
"That, unfortunately, I cannot disclose at this time. You'll receive all the necessary information once you pass the initial test and agree to the terms of confidentiality," the agent explained, his voice firm, indicating no room for negotiation on details at this stage.
"So you can't tell me anything about this supposedly highly secret and highly difficult operation?" He couldn't help but ask. For while he was interested in this job, he wouldn't agree to go into something blind like this.
"I can't tell very little for one the operation isn't going to be that difficult; it is merely that the person going to be having the surgery is very important, so great care is taken." The man explained, and he couldn't help but nod his head as he listened.
"And I can tell you about what kind of compensation you will be given. As I said, the first test will take about three days. Should you fail, you will be sent back here with a sum of one hundred thousand dollars."
The sum was a shocking amount; while he didn't particularly need money that badly, he had to admit that even with his current salary, it would take a while to earn that much.
"That is merely the compensation for your trouble; should you go to the second round and complete it successfully, you will be given one million dollars. The man continued, almost causing him to think he had misheard.
One million dollars? That was a huge sum for one surgery. It would take him at least a few years of hard work to earn that kind of money.
"Should you pass the second test, you will then be the one carrying out the surgery itself and be paid a full ten million for it."
The sheer magnitude of the sum made him pause, weighing heavily in his mind as he considered the implications. It was not just the money but the significance of the surgery that could demand such compensation.
"Ten million dollars," he repeated slowly, ensuring he had heard correctly, his skepticism mingling with a growing curiosity. "And all this for a single surgery? What kind of surgery warrants such discretion and high payment?"
The agent, maintaining his composed demeanor, simply nodded. "Yes, ten million. The high amount for all of your work is to ensure that you will be well motivated to do your very best. I can't say much about the surgery, but I can say that from the first test to the surgery, you shouldn't take more than two weeks."
His interest piqued despite his reservations. "Two weeks to handle everything? That's unusually quick for such a high-stakes operation," he noted, mulling over the logistics and potential complications inherent in such a timeline.
The agent merely nodded, his expression unreadable behind the dark sunglasses. "As I said, the surgery itself isn't too difficult, we merely wish for it to go as smoothly as possible, which is why I am here."
Mulling over everything he had heard so far. He couldn't help but be tempted by the high reward for this job. Sure he knew that there were plenty of things he wasn't being told, and normally he wouldn't accept a job like this.
But the reward! It was far too tempting; even if he wouldn't pass the final test and perform the surgery itself due to his potential inexperience with this kind of surgery; he was confident that he would at least pass the first test, which meant he would be going home with one million!
Deciding that the potential benefits outweighed the risks, he finally nodded. "Alright, I'll take your test. When and where do I go?"
"Excellent decision, Doctor," the agent said, a small smile hinting at the satisfaction of securing his cooperation. "A car will pick you up tomorrow morning at 6:00 AM. It will bring you to the facility where you'll undergo the initial competency test. Pack lightly; everything you need will be provided."
"Understood," he replied, his mind already racing through potential scenarios and preparing himself for the unknown challenges ahead. "I'll be ready."
The agent handed him a small, sealed envelope. "This contains your temporary clearance and the address of the facility, should you need it for your reference. Do not open it until you are in the car. Remember, discretion is paramount."
He took the envelope, feeling its weight in his hand. "I understand. You'll have my full cooperation."
As the agent turned to leave, he called out, "One more thing—can you at least tell me the nature of the medical issue involved? Is it a standard surgical procedure, or should I prepare for something... out of the ordinary?"
The agent paused at the door, turning slightly. "Prepare for the unexpected, Doctor. But rest assured, it's within your field of expertise."
As the agent took his leave. He quickly got started on finishing up a few things before he would be going tomorrow morning.
For one, he wanted to pack a few things, and he needed to make sure someone knew what he was doing. Sure, it was all supposed to be secret, but he wanted to at least let people know he was doing this secret thing. To make it less likely he would get disappeared.
-----------------------
[Some road, USA]
Natasha was very nervous as she drove this route she had been given. She wasn't afraid of some dead countryside; instead, what had her nervous was that the Foundation had contacted her and wanted her to go there.
Since returning to Shield a few weeks ago, she honestly hadn't expected to be called upon this soon. It was awfully risky; she might still be under watch by Fury, who didn't trust anyone, even less her right now.
Not that she could blame him; after all, she had been under the radar within an enemy organization for a while. And she had, in fact, defected to them and returned to Shield as a double agent.
She was sure Fury was suspicious, even if only because it was part of his personality to be so. Which is why she didn't understand why the Foundation was taking this risk.
Yet as she kept driving, she became sure that she was driving into an anomalous zone since a heavy fog suddenly started to appear without warning. Cutting down visibility heavily.
"Damn you, Graves, why did you have me drive for hours out here?" she cursed under her breath as she had to slow down due to how low the viability had become.
Suddenly, a headlight appeared in her field of vision, causing her to slam her foot onto the brake and brace for impact. Yet it never came. As she looked up, she noticed that the car was holding still on the road, and it wasn't alone.
Looking closely, she noticed that it was a barricade made up of cars. Then from the corner of her eye, she spotted someone coming towards the car. With a gun in hand, she waited until they got closer. When they did, she breathed out in relief.
"Damn, Graves, what is all this about? You know I'm supposed to be undercover." She cursed as she stepped out of the car to greet him.
"Not my call, Romanoff, not my call. Now come here. You have been called here to see this." He said and led her behind the barricade. There, she noticed a single building, an old-style family diner. With a sign reading Meg's Good Eatin.
A/N
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