Chapter 8: Raid

"Mr President, why are there only 30 people on the list this month? Is there an issue with the deal?"

A tall man in military camo and a thick beard asked the small shaking man before him. The army man leaned forward in an attempt to intimidate the so-called president. The president stood up, trying his best to face the brash grunt looking down on him.

"I've had enough of this. You haven't held your side of the deal yet. You said that if I traded in my people, you would help us win the war. Why isn't the war over yet mister? Are my people even being sent for military training or have I been sending them to some messed up facility where you sadists can perform all kinds of experiments on them? Answer me now or Ill not allow you to take even those 30 people."

The president had mustered up all his courage to stand up against the now angry boulder of a man.

"president I'm sure you have your troubles but I insist that you will win this war. You can have my word for it. We have been training the men you've sent us and training takes time. Before you know it you will have hundreds or maybe thousands of top-notch soldiers giving up their lives for your nation."

The man was not as short-tempered as he looked. Throughout his years of service to the Foundation, James Bancroft had felt a strong sense of justice towards the human race. He had trained multiple soldiers but most of them had died after the incident.

James had reached his breaking point 4 months ago when they had captured Subject D-3491. The capture called for some much –needed celebration, but James felt uneasy even after he had quarantined both the threats. Something about it felt too easy as if that was what they had wanted all along. But he soon dismissed his scepticism as the result of an overworked mind and went ahead with the celebration.

Three days after the celebration, the subject began showing signs of distress. Scientists had been drilling into his day in and day out since the moment of his capture, extracting fluids and masses from his spine and bone marrow. It was gruesome for some, but necessary for the foundation. The extracted matter was being tested to find out the reasons behind his mysterious powers.

The only lead that the scientists discovered was that the subject's DNA sequence had mutated and did not match the sample taken when he was enlisted into the D class of the Foundation.

It was believed that his first encounter with the Evolutionary Regression Device had changed his genetic coding in a way that wasn't replicated by the other human test subjects. It had made D superior to the other subjects, essentially turning him into an SCP with the power to replicate other powers.

It was very dangerous for the Foundation to keep him alive. It was discussed by the O5 council as well, the highest ruling authority of the Foundation, just below the Administrator.

The council had deemed it necessary for him to be experimented on extensively which made some members of the Foundation question as to why Doctor Hallows, one of their top scientists, had been killed for the same reason. This maddened Bancroft. He had tried his best and risked the lives of his team just so a bunch of faceless people could overrule his judgement and allow this scum to continue existing? He was enraged. And someone seemed to have noticed this anger.

Three weeks passed and Bancroft's anger swelled even more until the day he was approached by the man he only knew as The Boss. The Boss was a well-built 6 foot 3 army veteran who had, just like everyone else at the Foundation, dedicated his life to the cause. He was also the man who had hired Bancroft as the head of security.

The man had a rough voice and was intimately involved with the decisions made regarding both D and Doctor Hallows. His rough voice was unnaturally convincing and soothing, and it made Bancroft calm. The Boss offered Bancroft another path, one that fit his true nature. One that would involve risking his future.

Bancroft was a risk-taker. He had served his nation loyally throughout his years in the army, and he accepted any tasks, no matter its morality. If he hadn't joined the army, he would have been a great mercenary.

Bancroft was essentially offered another job, one that would, as promised by the Boss, bring an end to the unnoticed tyranny of the Foundation and an end to D's existence. Bancroft had accepted almost immediately. The anger that had welled up inside him had convinced him that the Foundation was wrong.

He needed to end D's existence no matter the cost. This drive to kill the monster had been born after Bancroft had finished watching the recordings in the flash drive his soldier had given him.

The first incident in it, as Bancroft recalled, was the diving suit consuming the pieces of the dead soldiers.

The second incident was much eerier. It showed, in plain sight, the Subject re-enacting the actions of the diving suit. Bancroft watched as the monster gulped down chunks of human flesh, its hunger only growing rather than dying down. "That's exactly what a rabid beast looks like," Bancroft thought to himself.

In his years of service, he had only been scared once, and that was the first time he had been shot at. But this video instilled a different kind of fear into him. Bancroft recalled how he had shivered in his chair while watching that video. D's eyes were blank with not a hint of emotion. All Bancroft could see were a pair of monsters consuming the flesh of the dead and enjoying every moment of it.

That fear was what had convinced him that D should be killed immediately. And the Boss had just given Bancroft the opportunity to.

Another week passed when Bancroft was supposed to carry out the plan that the Boss had suggested. It was simple. Cause some sort of breach and bring chaos to the Foundation. A team will extract the Subject and take him away as Bancroft stalled the soldiers from being near the extraction point.

This was an easy plan to carry out, and nothing could go wrong. Bancroft had planned many extractions when he had to bring his soldiers back to safety from the jaws of the occasional terrorist organisations.

"This is easy," he thought to himself. "A bit too easy." As the doubt lingered in the back of his mind, Bancroft proceeded with the operation.

It was a success and the Foundation was shattered. There had always been raids to the Foundation where SCPs were stolen by organisations for their gain. And this was just one more in the history of many others.

Bancroft was later extracted from the Foundation as well and taken to another base that didn't belong to the Foundation.

The base had buildings similar to those of the Foundation. Huge grey structures with occasional white bulbs attached to the ceiling. But something about it was different. This organisation wasn't the SCP Foundation, it was something that stunk of evil. And Bancroft could smell it. He could smell the stinking lie he had bought into, but he played along anyway.

4 months had passed since the Subject had been captured, and Bancroft had worked as head of security for nearly two months at the new facility. In this time, he had learnt a lot about both the place where he worked and the Foundation. He had also, unfortunately, convinced himself that this place was not evil, unlike his initial beliefs.

And that leads up to this day. Bancroft stood there in silence, waiting for the president to make up his mind. His patience was running out but he knew he had to keep calm if he wanted to fight back against the Foundation.

Meanwhile, the president had been walking in circles, trying to make up his mind. He didn't want to risk losing more of his people, but he also needed to win this war if he wanted his nation to prosper.

"Fine." Said the president after going through the possibilities of the future.

"I'll increase the number to the usual, but only if I get to see some of the results tomorrow. I need to see how my people are doing. I need a demonstration by my men to prove that they are training. I also need their testimonies, in person. If you fail to meet these requirements, I will end this deal. Is that understood?"

Bancroft wanted to punch the man as hard as he could. This puny man believed that he had any control over what happened to his people? "How pathetic," Bancroft thought. But he pushed away his anger and simply said.

"Of course sir. The results you await will show in no time, I guarantee it. Your requirements will be met as well; we would never lie to you. I hope you understand that. The Chaos Insurgency never lies."

Bancroft smiled as brightly as he could and walked away slowly as he laughed in his head. The president had been correct in his initial assessment of what was happening to his men. And he could do nothing about it.