[With Natasha]
Natasha had been with the Foundation for a decent amount of time. Enough that she started to get a feel of the organisation.
After her mission to collect SCP-137 she had been in the field only twice, and both times, they had returned back empty-handed. Clearly, finding an SCP object required a lot more work than what she was allowed to witness.
Work like what her new friend Sarah used to do before she became a field agent. Though maybe considering her a friend wasn't quite right, but Natasha had liked the woman.
"Romanoff! We got a mission, we leaving 5 minutes ago." The voice of Graves woke her up from her thoughts.
Graves' tone clearly indicated that this was important. Which meant that this object could be dangerous; she had, after all, been able and allowed to learn a few things about how they classified objects and dealt with the different types.
Jumping to her feet Natasha rushed after him. "What's the situation?"
"Stay close and keep up." Was all Graves said as he led her down the same path as she went with Sarah. Which meant they were going towards the real secret compound.
Though it was clear he wasn't leading her towards the same bar as Sarah, and soon enough, she entered an underground hanger area with some very advanced-looking aircraft.
There were plenty of other agents already and Graves and Natasha seemed to be the last people missing. As soon as they entered one of the crafts, the doors locked, and the craft rocked almost before she had a chance to sit down.
"What about my equipment?" she whispered to Graves, who sat right next to her.
"This is an important mission; you will be using normal field gear, which will be made available once we land."
While Graves might not have been in a chatting mood, the same couldn't be said for the rest of the agents, who took no mind of her rather special status as they started to discuss the mission, which left Graves with no choice but to properly explain things for her.
"Fine, I was planning to tell you once we arrived, if we are even needed that is. Anything this mission is a big deal. We are after an Euclid-level object, SCP-407, the song of Genesis. A rather dangerous object since it has a high disruption rating."
"It also has a risk class of Danger level, so yeah, getting in contained is pretty important, not to mention that the guy boss himself wanted this item contained yesterday. We are just a small part of the forces sent out to secure the object and clean up after it."
Graves continued to explain while Natasha listened carefully from the side.
Natasha felt that this object might be another one of those that were involved in the CK-class event incident, which she didn't know what meant just yet, but clearly, it was something big.
Some of the chatter she had picked up over the past few weeks, she had figured out that it was something that had caused the Foundation to lose a number of contained objects.
As Graves delved into the specifics, Natasha felt her heartbeat quicken with anticipation. SCP-407, known as "The Song of Genesis," was an anomalous audio recording capable of stimulating rapid, uncontrolled plant growth and extreme biological mutations in living organisms within its auditory range. The implications of such an SCP object were vast and frightening.
"Due to its nature, 407 can cause ecological disasters within hours," Graves elaborated, his voice grave. "Not to mention many deaths, and the risk of someone else recording the sound and using or spreading it further."
Natasha could easily see someone trying to use this object for something, be it good or evil. The problem with both was that others could then take recordings, which meant that eventually, someone who wanted to use it for evil would get it.
Graves paused for a moment, unsure if he should continue; he looked her over closely before sighing. "The song also has the ability to cure disease and illness and promote healing in those who hear it. It can bring someone back from the very brink of death, though prolonged use will lead to death or fates worse than it."
Natasha couldn't help but gasp as she heard about the healing ability of this object. It was wild, too hard to believe, yet she did believe the way Graves said it, how he looked at her.
It was, for sure, the truth, and he knew well that she had something she wanted healed, something that was impossible to heal. To undo the graduation ritual of the Red Room was something no widow even dared to imagine, yet all hoped for.
They all knew there was no hope for it to ever happen; it would need a true miracle. Even after learning about SCPs and the kind of stuff the Foundation dealt with, she still didn't have any hope; she had long forgotten about it.
Yet, here was a method, even if it was risky, she had no doubt that many of the widows out there would gladly take the risk. Many of them had seen having a child as the ultimate form of defiance for their teachers and masters, even if it was impossible.
"How dangerous is the healing?" She couldn't help but ask, and clearly, from his reaction, Graves had expected it.
"2 minutes, hearing the song for 2 minutes is the limit; more than that and the side effects set in, but before that, it heals and cures, making anyone become healthier than they properly have ever been."
It clicked for her then. She suddenly realized. How was the Foundation able to grow to its current size? How did it apparently gather some of the smartest people in the world? How did it make even governments who supported SHIELD keep quiet about them?
It was due to the SCP objects themselves. Someone like this one could make every old, rich, and powerful person in the world bend over backward for them. It was no wonder everyone considered someone like O5-1 one of the most powerful people in the world.
If he really had access to thousands of objects like this, then the amount of things he could achieve was limitless. The power to kill anyone, the power to heal anyone. Indeed, that was pretty much near godly an amount of power at his fingertips.
Natasha took a deep breath. Calming herself down. "Can you tell me anything about the situation down there?"
Graves studied her for a few moments. She wasn't sure what he saw, but whatever it was, he smiled at her as he continued. "A small church has become completely overgrown, more than 200 people have gone missing, they are presumed to be dead or dying due to the effects of 407."
"As you can imagine, something like that is beginning to quickly draw attention. We are working remotely to keep it out of the news and off the net, which isn't easy. Until we get enough men on the ground to establish a proper quarantine, we risk exposure and more dead." Graves continued, his expression growing more solemn.
Natasha processed this new information, the reality of the situation setting in. The mission wasn't just about containment; it was a rescue operation with slim chances of success for those already affected. "What's our strategy for containment?" she asked, her mind racing with tactics and possibilities.
It took Graves a moment to answer, probably going over whether or not he should answer her. "We got a MTF coming down with some heavy equipment, including some remote-controlled machines and an EMP. Another team is bringing some D-class personnel to go in first."
"Our job once we get there will be to do whatever we get asked to by whoever is the agent in charge. As I said, the big man is paying attention to this, so management is taking it seriously."
Natasha felt a chill at the mention of D-class personnel; it was one of the things she had learned about the Foundation, which she found really tasteless. Though there was nothing she could do, she did realize that sometimes, the only way to deal with the unknown was through trial and error.
As the aircraft continued its swift journey, Natasha found herself wrestling with a mix of emotions. The potential for healing her own wounds was a tantalizing thought, yet the mission's primary goal, and the inherent risks, remained at the forefront of her mind. She was a professional, after all, trained to prioritize the mission above personal desires.
The aircraft soon began its descent, and the team prepared for rapid deployment. Shortly before arriving, they had gotten the news that the MTF would land shortly before them, and they would be dealing with the civilians, local law enforcement, and pretty much anyone that wasn't Foundation.
The landing was smooth but swift, barely giving the team a moment to brace before they were rushing out onto the site. The scene that greeted them was chaotic, a stark contrast to the structured discipline within the Foundation.
Local authorities, confused and overwhelmed by the situation, were quickly briefed and moved to assist in perimeter control, while civilians were carefully evacuated to safety zones, away from the influence of SCP-407.
Natasha, alongside Graves and their team, geared up with the standard field equipment provided upon landing. Each piece was designed with functionality in mind, offering protection without hindering movement—a crucial balance when dealing with unpredictable SCP objects.
Natasha found herself right at home as she joined in the work. Using fake IDs to take control of the situation and guide people away and confiscating phones and anything else used to take pictures or video of everything happening.
It wasn't easy by any means. People weren't happy to be pushed back, weren't happy to have their stuff taken, weren't happy being ordered around. Even the local law enforcement wasn't happy either.
They wanted to know what was going on, and they weren't getting answers. Eventually, more and more Jets landed inside the quarantine area, and more Foundation personnel arrived. Including the D- class who stood out in their orange jumpsuits.
The situation almost turned ugly when one of the D-class tried to make a run for it and had his head blown off by the bomb collar.
It caused panic and confusion among the non-Foundation people, still close enough to notice, and the Foundation had to take control of the situation using force. Even Natasha had to draw two guns and disarm a few people.
The aftermath of the incident was tense, with the air thick with a mix of fear, confusion, and a growing sense of authority as the Foundation asserted control. The stark reality of their operations, the lengths they were willing to go to maintain secrecy and order, was laid bare for Natasha to see. Despite her extensive training and experiences, moments like these underscored the morally ambiguous world she had stepped into.
After the situation stabilized and the perimeter secured, the focus shifted back to the mission at hand—containing SCP-407. The Mobile Task Force (MTF) geared up for entry, their heavy equipment in tow, preparing to navigate the overgrown church. Natasha and her team were assigned to support the efforts to administer amnestics to the population.
Natasha was glad the Foundation had some amnestics, which only left someone confused for a bit, rather than the stuff she knew Shield had, which had far greater side effects.
By the time she and the others were finally done with that, the work at the church had also been finished, and the entire place was being lit on fire. "There has to be some cover story as to why those people died, and the plants need to get rid off." Graves said as they looked up at the burning building.
"You did good work today, Romanoff; you are starting to look like a real Foundation agent." He continued and patted her shoulder. Leaving her unsure of what to think.
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[Back with Alex]
"Good job, once you arrive at SITE-19, inform the Director that I want three copies of Object 407 made for me, one on a CD, one on a DVD, and the last one on a USB flash drive. Someone will come and pick those up." Alex said over the phone before ending the call.
He then immediately made another call: "Yes, it's me; you can go ahead with the operation; SITE-19 has been ordered to release the object into your hands. While picking it up, take the three copies of object-407 as well. You will need at least one; the others, have them moved to the Vault."
The call was short and to the point. As it was done, Alex smiled brightly and went up from his bunker to enjoy a glass of wine by the pool. He was in his male form today since Natasha wasn't here. A rare treat indeed.
A/N
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