During the late 1930s to the the mid 1940s, the world was faced with a conflict the likes of which had never been seen or fathomed by mankind before. The fate of billions of humans beings was dependant on the outcome, but fortunately the Nazi Regime...
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1740 Hours, February 13th
Thirteenth Precinct Nationalgarde Headquarters, Neu Berlin Financial District, Amerika
The activity at the precinct was unprecedented. Fleischer had plenty of experience when it came to Nazi military protocol, and what she saw was nothing short of the entire local garrison mobilising to encircle a single location. It was clear to her that efforts had been made to disguise such a high concentration of troop movement, but unlike most people, Fleischer had an edge when it came to surveillance.
She propped herself in the upper corner of the room, bracing herself with her hands on both walls, and her back slightly slipped forward to conform to the ceiling. Fleischer was operating a-one-of-a-kind piece of covert ops equipment called the 'Zyzzyx'; a stealth suit capable of safely and painlessly compressing a human being to the height of a thumb tack.
Along with this incredible function, a pair of mechanical propulsion arrays twitched eagerly at her back, as if they were waiting for a chance to throw Fleischer into action. Her gloves and boots were fitted with specialized electromagnetic pads that allowed her to adhere to metal surfaces to conserve her flight pack's power supply.
So, Fleischer, no bigger than a fly and securely fixed to a wall, continued gathering intel on the 'package' that had the Reich's brass so concerned. Well, attempting to.
The operations center was packed with tech officers manning computer terminals and speaking through earpieces. It was difficult even for her to pick up coherent sentences.
"Hunter Four, report." Karl Gunther asked through Fleischer's encoded communications channel. He was speaking English, an outlawed language. Gunther was Hunter One, lead on this recon mission.
"There's something here. High-value package. That's all I know. Comms are heavily encrypted, and everyone's talking in codenames. Could be anything." Fleischer responded, heavy German accent wrapping her voice. These days, most of the very few people she met who spoke English did so with a strong accent. Rebel leaders like Gunther and Janet began to shed it through lack of speaking German in protest, but Fleischer disdained this gesture. Germany was never the enemy; it was the Nazis. The first country the Nazis conquered was their own.
Janet Pym huffed in amusement, then added, "High-value is an understatement. They're spooked...really spooked." Her voice had an accent that was strange to Fleischer; it was a dead one, learned by Janet from synthesized examples of American English that she had used to master the language.
"Yeah. There's too much traffic here. I'm bugging out." Fleischer reported.
"Negative, Hunter Four. Hunter Two, Three, and Five are standing by to engage; secure that package."
Fleischer snarled. "Fuck this."
Janet promptly chimed in, "I gotta say Hunter One, I'm with Four on this. The Pym Particles have about thirty minutes of compression left in them before they fail. If she's inside that facility when that happens...not only do we lose Four and her nifty cover, we lose the suit. Do I need to explain how those Particles are literally the only thing we have that they don't?"
