Remember to credit Buckyboy17, Moklin, Liv3r, RyuthedragonKM, recursive, Cyantreuse, and Darkstuff, MaliceAF

Egyptian Desert, August 28th 2016, 1:08 am EET

The stark black sky chock full of stars illuminated the Sahara desert. The sands of the desert were whipped up by a desert Humvee. Frederick Wolff was one of them, a long sip from his thermos of coffee jolted the German into action. He doubted the action, asking himself why he was drinking coffee in the desert. However, now wasn’t the time for doubting, Frederick and the others were selected for this mission because of their absolute loyalty to the Chaos Insurgency. The Deltas, or the O5 equivalant of the CI needed to tie up a loose end, and they needed to tie the knot fast. A simple mission they said, Frederick the small band of silent and non talkative "friends" (and by friends he meant a group of asocial sadistic assholes who scorned Frederick for everything) were taking pleasure out of this experience unlike Frederick.

Wake up. Eat piss poor MRE's. Drive. Kill. Repeat. Each night the group would ride to a perimeter of another Al-Qaeda wannabe camp and snipe anyone on patrol duty that night. The group would walk into the camp and find them all in one tent sleeping on the floor like cavemen. Without any hesitation, everyone would slice everyone in the tent to death. Some nights, his sadist coworkers would dangle knives over their victims and play games with them. Those helpless staring imbeciles who captured Doctor Bright were like Alpha class personnel. Expendable, possessing no control, and way out of their depth.

Lo and behold, Frederick and friends’ lone Humvee was a mile away from another camp. The German peeked his head out the turret and pulled out his ravishing new thermal binoculars, given to him by the Deltas as a little "parting gift". He canvassed the area and spotted some lucky fellows out on patrol. Five in total, three of them sitting in a guard tower smoking cigarettes & playing cards. The two that were doing circles around the area were scorning the the three in the guard tower

Friggin’ cowards Frederick scowled to the others in solitude. He plopped into the back seat of the Humvee. Intrigued, he observed the flurry of anomalously silenced bullets sink into the ones on guard. They never saw them coming. Frederick climbed out of the back seat, and the hike down the sandy hills in the direction of the camp began.

Hezb Alkalifah Camp, 1:48 am

After a forty-minute walk, the squadron was right outside the tent. Frederick chucked a sonic paralysis grenade into the tent. Everyone became trapped in their own bodies. Frederick counted to three silently and then signaled for everyone to entee the tent. Frederick waltzed in first, yelling out “AHA!” No reaction, of course. He laughed and sauntered to the back of his tent. The rest were hard at work tormenting the ones in the tent. Frederick popped a squat in the back corner. Out of boredom, he started fiddling with the frequency knob out of boredom.

Rock Steady started humming through the Walkie Talkie, he got up and began dancing to the music by The Whipers. His coworkers didn’t mind his dancing, they thought he was tormenting the terrorists. Frederick started jiving backwards while his Walkie Talkie emitted music. Then he found it, well he didn’t find it, per se, he fell into it. It was a wide hatch, hidden near the back of the tent obscured from plain view. His squad mates heard his scream and the wet plop that followed when he fell in.

“Oi Frederick? You ok?” One of them yelled

“Well, technically no, I’m sorta covered in mud now, but as a whole I’ve gotta say I’m doing pretty well. Being out here beats huddling down in a bunker. Like have you ever played New Vegas? It’d suck being locked up in a bunker, just…waiting. We’re kinda like Veronica, catch my drift?”

“None of us play video games, thought you knew this already?”

A soft splashing noise was heard, Red-07, one of his squad mates had joined him in the whole. Frederick cursed the man after seeing only his boots graced by the mud. Frederick sighed again and got up, the room was illuminated by a dim, flickering light. Fredrick rambled in his head. “God, this is playing out just like a horror movie.”

"Command this is Fre-03 and Red-07, we found this Foundation dude in one of the Hezb camps. What should we do?" Frederick questioned on his comms.

"This is Command, I mean I don’t really care I guess you’re clear to terminate."

Red-07 raised his weapon, ready to squeeze the trigger at the still-unconscious Foundation member. Frederick raised his arms and yelled.

"Hold on, hold on! Don’t you want to know how some big cheese in a fancy suit ended up here in the middle of the desert? Like seriously, command, are you hearing this?"

"Smart idea, Fre-03. You are clear to interrogate. I mean you can terminate too…I don't really mind, I mean, just make sure he's dead at some point.”

Red-07 obviously looked irritated at Frederick after gaining the favor of command. He complied anyways and prepared to wake up the Foundation member. Kenny turned off his comms and engaged in small talk.

"Sooooooo, looks like we are doing an interrogation eh?"

He nudged Red-07’s shoulder and in response he shrugged him off.

"I call dibs on h-"

Red-07’s sentence was cut off by a loud thud to the back of his head; he would be out cold for hours now. Frederick raised his pistol to the Foundation agent with his hands up. He looked weak and malnourished, obviously starved and beaten during his time in the basement. He was strong enough to wield a weapon however, and Frederick hatched a plan that required it.

"Hey! Fre-03, Red-07, you two holding up well?"

"Guys." Frederick began pretending to sob, "This Foundation guy has me at gunpoint, he says not to come with weapons!"

clunk, clunk, clunk, Frederick snapped up the metal rod and stood in a defensive position. The three descended the ladder only to find themselves at the mercy of a quivering Foundation member and a smug Frederick brandishing a metal rod like a baseball bat.

One man burst into a fit of laughter. "Get a load of this guy, Frederick is trying to defect to the Foundation, last guy that tried to do that…well lets just say he is not having a daily intake of oxygen." He managed to stammer out on the verge of passing out from laughing

"Listen, man, this is just a personal decision of mine, it's not a big deal or anything, it's just that I'm sorta leaving you. I never even asked to be in the CI, I was collateral for gods sake. I hate all of you, your personalities are so stale I get more entertainment looking at the corpses. We couldn't even share one drink before you shot the bartender in the arm just because there was a smudge on your glass. Imagine his medical bills, he probably isn't even insured because he is a… for gods sake, I'm rambling again. Night night!"

The CI members facing the wall turned around and charged at Frederick. He parried the first one and knocked him on the backside of his head. The second agent rushed Frederick to the ground. Armed with the element of surprise, the metal rod slipped out of Fredericks grasp. Frederick dodged his punches until he rolled over to the metal rod. Armed once again, Frederick hit him in the stomach once, rolled on top, and locked him in a chokehold with the help of the rod. After he was unconscious, Frederick stood up to face the third agent. However, he, bided his time and managed to disarm the recovering Foundation member.

"Drop it, I don’t, well I kinda do want to hurt your new buddy." He nudged towards the Foundation member who was being held at gunpoint.

Slow like mollasses, Frederick set the metal rod to the ground and put his hands up.

"That’s what’s I thought, now where were we…" The statement was cut off when the Foundation member bit into the neck of the man holding him at gunpoint. He released a loud howl as he covered his neck instinctively. Frederick, seeing the opportunity put forth before him, picked up the rod and clocked the last CI agent in the head.

Outside of Hezb Camp, 1:52 am EET

"So." The Site Director clapped his hands together and began to speak. “I’m Harold, I’m the Director of Site-77 in Italy, at your service.”

He bowed like one would expect a French aristocrat at a Marseilles ball to do.

“…Pleasure to meet you too I suppose?” Frederick stammered awkwardly, “I’m sure you probably already know my name.”

“Yeah, I think… Is it Frederick? It’s probably Frederick! Okay, Frederick, you have a fancy name. Probably German, but how’d you end up here of all places, and with the CI on top of that!”

“Do you want the short version or the long version.” Frederick told Harold, slightly irritated at the rambling of the Site Director.

“Oh gee, I’d like the long version, we have the time.” Like a tour guide, he showed the sprawling desert laid out before him.

“Well too bad, I’m a very secretive person.” He let out a chuckle before turning serious again.

“Alrighty then.” He pulled out a notepad scribbled down with pages of words, a laundry list of questions he would have if Harold was lucky enough to climb out of that hole.

“How was the weather recently? How is the new Foundation TV Show going? Any good movies recently? What’s your favorite book?” Frederick answered every single one, each with a more progressively exasperated sigh.

Site-77 Communications Room, 1:50 am CET

Gerald Fester, the head of incoming transmissions for Site-77 abruptly awoke to the sudden beeping on his radio. He reached for the cold coffee on his desk and brushed away the sprawled-out papers.

“This is Director Spritzer does anyone copy?!”

Gerald scrambled for the walkie talkie and began to speak.

“Wait a minute…The Harold Spritzer? Dude weren’t you like… the Director here? The hell happened to you?”

“Hmmm, well you could say the CI paid me a visit…listen man, you probably have a temporary director or something, and I need you to get him for me right now!”

“No can do! Gonna need your Directors code before I can call in the Director.”

“3, 9, 7, 1, GOT IT? 3, 9, 7, 1! NOW HURRY UP.”

Gerald scribbled it down with a pen, “Alrighty, gotit sir.”

Gerald heard a second voice yelling out, “Oh shit! CI on the horizon, we better go!”

“Hold up, wait! The Director is on his way-“

The transmission cut out abruptly and Gerald sat immobilized before he sprung into action.

“Welp, here goes nothing.” He proclaimed to himself as he felt around under his desk. Amongst all the gum cemented onto the underside, he discovered the big red button emblazoned with “Emergencies Only”. Gerald counted down from three in his head and pushed the button, with a small click, the stand-in Director of Site-77 burst through the door.

"Director, you're gonna wanna hear this."

Site-77 Directors Office, 2:00 am

In the Site Briefing Room, Georgie Decker, an Australian MTF turned Site-77 security stood across from the Site Director. He threw a flurry of photographs and documents onto the table.

"Soak it in, Georgie, what you’re looking at is the whereabouts this site's previous Director who went missing like a month ago. We are sure that a defector from the Chaos Insurgency has assisted him in the escape. They’re on the run right now, got it?"

Goergie picked up a few images and stared at them before throwing them back to the table. He nodded. The Site Director nodded and took a deep breath, signifying it was the most important part of the impromptu meeting.

"They are definitely en route to Cairo, not to divulge any secrets, but all Site Directors are to be informed of local safe houses."

He reached for his pocket and pulled out one plane ticket for Cairo International Airport.

“The next flight leaves in two days, departing from Venice. Grab anything and everything you need, you’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

Cairo, Egypt, August 30th, 6 am

It had been two days since Frederick had rescued Harold that night in the desert, and they had been hightailing it from the CI ever since. Frederick suggested at first that they find a way out of the country, but they ended up scrapping the idea and instead decided to make their way to a safe house. They were almost there now except they were low on gas so the two pulled into a gas station in at the outskirts of Helwan. Harold, using what little Arabic he picked up from his training course to ask for gas to the teller. As Van McCoy's "The Hustle" hummed through their radio, Frederick woke up, seeing the sunrise’s silhouette painting the sky purple.

The clerk at the gas station finished filling up their gas. Frederick fumbled for money, but the clerk shook his head and gave them another canister of fuel. It wasn’t until Frederic was halfway back to the car that he noticed a small note hanging from the can. "CI everywhere," it said.

The Humvee started to enter the highway to Cairo when Harold jerked the brake. Frederick lunged forward in his seatbelt, and shook his head in shock.

"What the hell was that?"

Harold put his right hand under Fredericks chin and turned his head to the road. Frederick and Harold saw about ten humvees surrounding a truck plastered with the CI logo on the side. They were in a hurry, going easily over 70 mph, they were in a rush and were heading in the direction of the very place Frederick and Harold were going to.

“Was that…Chaos Insurgency?” Frederick said, half panicked and half curious.

“The clerk at the gas station, he is an informant for the Foundation, take a look.” Harold passed the big red canister over the Frederick.

“Wha-what is this? I don’t get it? It’s just a fuel canister-” He cut off his statement once he saw the note taped to it. “When life gets you down, hey, at least you aren’t the most wanted people in Cairo driving into Cairo. Oh wait.” He sarcastically quipped as the Humvee pulled out of the gas station.

Cairo International Airport, Egypt, September 1st, 6 am

Georgie stepped out of the plane into the terminal. After sleeping the whole way there, he was feeling well rested. He hoisted his backpack onto his shoulders and began walking, only stopping for a donut at a small kiosk tucked away. As he spoke in Arabic to the clerk he happened to glance at the television. He saw the flag of the Chaos Insurgency rising above the governmental building in Cairo. Georgie looked back into the terminal and found two men dressed in full military uniform with a CI patch on the side. They knew he was here.

“Hold that donut.” Georgie requested in Arabic.

By the time the clerk put the donut back Georgie was already walking down the terminal, adjusting his hat and sunglasses. He pretended to block out the sun as the two passed him, pulling his hat down further over his eyes. He ducked out the nearest exit, head down and hands in pocket walking swiftly onto a shuttle bus en route to another terminal.

Georgie sat on the back of the bus hidden away in a corner, he was well mixed into the crowd of tourists and civilians alike fleeing the city. Georgie felt a buzzing in his pocket, he pulled out his conspicuously outdated flip phone assigned specifically for the mission. He accepted the call and held it up to his ear, before he could even speak, the enthusiastic stand-in Site Director of site 77 spoke to Georgie.

"How ya doing Georgie, good I hope, anyhow I was watching the news and the Chaos Insurgency seem to have taken control of Cairo. I dunno man, anyhow don't get caught and I marked the address of the safehouse on your phone, toodles big fella!"

Georgie couldn't get one word out before the man hung up. He put the phone back into his pocket and looked towards the front of the bus. A moment later, a pickup truck pulled up and stopped the vehicle. Two soldiers entered the bus and began searching it for someone, looking in each seat. By the time they reached the back, they found nobody. What they did find when they exited the bus, however; was a pronounced absence of pickup trucks.

Cairo, August 30th, 11:21 am

Harold and Frederick hopped out of the alley burrowed deep into a Cairo street and stepped out onto a back-road.

"For gods sake, was there no other safe house they could send us to?"

Harold shrugged, "The only other one is in a small CI occupied town, and honestly, anything’s better than that hole. Do you really think I would go into a place occupied by the CI by choice? Especially when they’re all looking for me?"

"Fair point, but where the hell is the address? All the guy at the gas station gave us was a warning we didn't need because we found out twenty seconds later. I mean seriously, you're dragging me into a place where every other person will be looking for me and my birth mark on my lower thigh, and you won’t even give me that?" Frederick patted his thigh to drive the point home.

"No need. We're already here."

Harold held the door open for Frederick and he stepped into a lobby for an apartment complex, the man at the front desk waved hello and smiled.

"Hello sir! Do you have the time."

"Uh, its eleven-oh-"

Frederick was cut off by Harold, "No, but I have a watch."

The man at the desk’s face turned serious at the sound of those words. He recognized the code and reached under his desk for a set of keys. "Follow me, sir."

The two obliged. They rounded a corner and found a room tucked away in the back of the first floor.

"Home sweet home, I suppose," said Harold.

Frederick chuckled, "What was with that whole secret code? I knew the Foundation was clandestine and shit, but this is way over the top."

"Oh please. This is the best place to hide when you're considering the CI are going door to door looking for us. Corny code or not."

Frederick sat down on the bed and began flipping through channels, he stood up and stopped on one that said something about Egypt.

"As for the raids conducted by SAS on Marshall, Carter, and Dark's London Headquarters, we have confirmed that recovered anomalies are in the possession of the Crown. In other news, the paramilitary group "Chaos Insurgency" has led a successful siege and capture of Egypt. The Suez Canal is now swarming with UN troops protecting international shipping lanes, and as for Cairo-"

Frederick flicked off the TV and buried his head in the pillow, muffling his string of curse words. Harold was in a state of shock, not even able to speak. While the two were letting the gravity of the situation sink in, they heard a knock on the door. Harold fell into a state of panic.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck its the CI." He whispered under his breath while opening the nightstand for a pistol. He checked the clip and then cocked it to make sure it was loaded & ready. Harold edged up to the door to look through the peephole.

"Hello, Mr.Spritzer? Mr.Freitag? I am Georgie Musconi, I'm here to get you out of here."

The Australian man speaking sounded legit. Harold spoke up.

"Prove it then."

Georgie shoved a Foundation badge under the mail slot, “Give this to Mr. Spritzer, he can spot a forgery."

Harold glanced at the ID presented before him. "It's legit."

Frederick reluctantly unlocked the door and the Australian sauntered into the room. He crouched under and opened the mini fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and lying down on one of the beds.

"Sooooo, you’re our ticket out of here?" Harold asked

"I reaaaaaally hope so, did you get anyone else?"

Frederick sighed and rested his face on the glass window. "No, YOU ARE our ticket out of here, and you're loafing in a hotel room in the middle of Cairo! I’ve passed at least seven different cells and by god they aren’t shooting at each other because they all want to shoot at US!" Georgie sat up and hushed the angry German’s rant. A knock on the door was starting to increase in volume.

"Harold, Frederick, this is the Foundation, we are here to take you to safety."

Frederick and Harolds face drained of all color, Georgie stood up and inched towards the door, gun ready. The man was still knocking and getting slightly more irritated.

"We are here to help for gods sake, OPEN UP!"

His knocks and pleas were cut off by a door clocking him in the face. Georgie shot him for good measure and ushered them forward.

"You said you wanted out, lets get going!"

The three ran out and sprinted down the hall, they turned to the right and saw a CI soldier leaning against a wall in the hallway. Harold and Georgie sprinted past him, and as the soldier got ready to fix their guns on them Frederick decked him from behind. After Frederick punched him in the face a few more times, he passed out and the three were sprinting once again. Frederick tossed a Walkie Talkie that he had picked up from the CI agent to Harold and he tuned into a Foundation frequency.

"THIS IS HAROLD SPRITZER, WE ARE AT THE TROBAIRITZ MOTEL AND THE CI ARE HERE, LIKE RIGHT HERE!" a door opened and gunshots chipped the walls around himd. “BLOODY CI CUNTS! HEY LISTEN YOU NEED TO GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE."

The three were on the top floor of the apartment complex, and that was when Harold hashed out the perfect escape. Without warning he fired at the bolts holding the door together. Unwelcomed, Harold darted in and out of the apartment, with a mattress in his arms now. The bunch traversed one more set of stairs, they were on the roof now. Frederick, wielding an Emergency Axe, slid it between the door. Creating a partial barrier, Georgie and Frederick caught on and circled the roof until they spotted the White Pickup Truck. The clanging of the roof exit was building in intensity, pressed for time, the clique haphazardly clenched the mattress and lunged forward onto the pavement.

When they hit the pavement, each of them clutched their stomachs and howled in agony. Georgie was the first to pull himself up, he scooped the other two up from the mattress and set them in the flatbed of the pickup truck. He scurried for the keys and shoved it into the ignition. The trio slipped through the fingers of the CI at the apartments.

1 Mile From Cairo, August 28th, 1:43 pm

Harold and Frederick woke up, wiping the crusty blood from their mouth. Harold peeked into the truck and saw Georgie on the radio with the Foundation, he knocked. Goergie startled and jerked the wheel, thankfully they were off road so the only thing that got hit was even more sand.

“Look who’s awake, sleep well?”

Harold looked and Frederick and then back at Georgie.

“We’re…holding up.” Harold told Georgie.

“Well, that’s good to hear, you might want to climb in, we’ve still got an hour ride until we reach the nearest Foundation outpost.

[[collapsible show="+ Epilogue" hide="- Epilogue"]]

Site-19, Three Days Later

The Jeep carrying the three men rolled into the parking garage of Site-19, they pulled into a parking spot by the corner of the large garage. It was mostly empty, except for a car with tinted windows. The chauffeur of the tinted car stepped out and knocked three times on the car window.

"It's them." He said into his Walkie Talkie.

Harold, Frederick, and Georgie stepped out and found themselves face to face with a man wearing glasses, dressed in a grey suit. He was busy adjusting his tie with one hand and on the phone with someone else.

“Yes, I know! O5’s have got me up to here with Cairo! Ugh, gotta go, keep me posted.”

A small beep was heard as the man put the phone in his jacket pocket.

“Sorry about that, anyhow I’m Alfred Rivizi, I’m the head of the Chaos Insurgency Counter-Intelligence Division. CICID for short, it’s an honor to meet you all.”

He shook all of their hands, “Frederick, you’re new here so you’re gonna be getting level one clearance and a job in the CICID. Your two are free to join him-“ the two nodded vigorously at the offer. “Very well then, you two will be spending a week at Site-19 and taking the basic Counter-Intelligence class.”

He reached into his trunk and handed Frederick a Foundation ID.

“Welcome to the Foundation, Frederick.”