Of course, that was assuming there were plans for the future. Greynolds had kept very quiet for the past half day, ever since the message was sent out. He'd spent half the time in a closed-doors meeting with Sonia and Wilson. No member of that trio was particularly approachable. Were Carter still alive, Christina might have tried to coax him into sharing some information, but the spy in their ranks had taken that option, along with so many others. It was hard to even say what the organization would look like in a week. With two vacancies high up in the command structure, and with countless other holes, particularly among the techs, things were looking rather grim. Worse, Christina had the feeling that Greynolds didn't particularly care for fronting things entirely on his own. He'd always been a loose cannon, even among the "Big Four". While he certainly had enjoyed a good relationship with Danya, stability and consistency had never seemed to be among his recommending qualities. That he had avoided blowing up so far was a minor miracle.
She sighed as she passed a line of bullet holes in the wall. Even the decorations that some of the terrorists had put up had been removed. They were trying to leave nothing whatsoever behind. Past evacuations had been hurried, but never like this. Even after V3, when they had lost so many people—more, now that she thought about it, than this time—things had seemed better, because the structure had remained intact. They had had everything planned, everything under control. Now, she didn't even know what the status was on the island. The techs had been the first ones moved, on board the big tanker that served as a mobile command post. They were monitoring things from there, crossing their fingers that the game would conclude before anyone decided to call Greynolds' bluff.
Finally, once she had checked every room she was assigned, once she had made doubly sure that there was not a single object left behind, Christina radioed in her success.
"Nice timing, Domino," replied the voice from the other end. "Get back to the group. We're down to five, so it's time to get them together."
Christina picked up her pace, winding for the last time down the corridors of the base. She passed one of the crews wiring it with explosives without a second glance. The final security measures didn't concern her. She'd done her job. She was far more interested in what had occurred back on the island. Last time she had checked, there had been a dozen students left, in extremely varying circumstances. They had a pool going, like always. Christina had ten bucks on the Bennett girl. She seemed to have the right armament and was certainly developing the proper attitude. Christina had asked Shamino for his assessment, and he'd just shrugged and said it was too far out to call. She knew he'd put his money on someone, though. Come payoff, she'd find out.
The betting didn't matter. It was just a way to depersonalize what was happening. The money involved was inconsequential, and all of them knew it was a coping mechanism, a way to make it easier to stomach. That made it all the easier to get caught up in it, though, and Christina absolutely hated to lose.
She stepped outside, into the evening, and saw one of the others waving to her.
"Over here," he called. "It's just starting."
Jim Greynolds sat in the new command room, on the biggest boat in the modest fleet that was currently priming to transport the terrorists away the second the winner's foot hit the deck. Time was of the essence. It was evening, nearly half a day before he was scheduled to address the students, but they didn't have time to wait around. The five remaining survivors were for the large part spread out fairly well. They could take a long, long time to kill each other, or even to narrow it down to four. Besides, there was no hard and fast rule about where to begin the finals. Version Two's last announcement had occurred with five left, too, though the Johnson girl had died before they reached the final arena.
V2 felt so long ago, now. Still, it wasn't time to reminisce. Greynolds picked up the microphone, pressed the button, and began the last listing of deaths for V4.
"Good evening, everyone. Greynolds here. I know it's a little early, but bear with me. It's down to five of you now. Congratulations. You've all made it far. The only question now is, what next?
"But I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first. Here's everyone who didn't quite manage to hold it together:
"Violet Druce learned what friendship truly means when she was gunned down by her former pal, Madeleine Smith. Not too long afterwards, Aaron Hughes killed Aston Bennett. Kudos to Ms. Bennett for figuring out that trusting anyone this late is suicide. No props for whatever happened to her gun, though. Everyone left, you may want to check for jams and make sure the safety's off.
"Madeleine Smith was next to die, shot by Ericka Bradley at just the right time to manage tenth place. Afterwards, ninth-place finisher Ema Ryan taught us all about winning the battle but losing the war. After her little massacre yesterday, she died from blood loss. We're going to assume it was the leg wound inflicted by Saul Fetteralf. Congratulations on striking from beyond the grave, Mr. Fetteralf. At least you got your revenge.
"Aaron Hughes was shotgunned into eighth by Ivan Kuznetsov, but not before he managed to fatally wound Tabitha Gweneth. She died shortly afterwards, at seventh. Tough luck, Mr. Kuznetsov. There were only five left besides you two.
"Finally, in sixth place, Leila Langford managed to walk into a danger zone. Smooth move. Saves us a waste of space in the finals, at least.
"Now, as always, we're going to make sure you all know who you are up against. It seems only fair that everyone walk into this informed. In numerical order, then:
"Ilario Fiametta, you've come a long way, and you've killed a lot of people. The question now is, can you maintain that momentum? With your sisters dead, do you even want to? I can't quite figure you out, but I do expect you to try your hardest. You've got some pretty stiff competition, but that hasn't stopped you yet, has it?
"Moving on, Mr. Ivan Kuznetsov, you just lost everything, didn't you? How are you feeling? You know what they say: time heals all wounds. Can you do what it takes to buy some more for yourself? Last time we had a bereaved lover in the finals, he came out of it intact. Do you have it in you to follow in his footsteps? Of everyone left, you have fewer kills than all but one. Can you bring yourself to even things up a little?
"Reiko Ishida, your name isn't new to these announcements, but you're finally in sight of what you must have been fighting for this whole time. You know you can stomach killing, but can you hold yourself together physically? The past days haven't been easy on you. Keep your chin up, though: you're almost home. I'm sure your sister would be proud.
"Our fourth finalist is our least prolific killer, Ms. Kimberly Nguyen. I have to be honest, after what Hartmann did to you on the first day, I figured you for an early out. You've more than proved your survivability since then, though. The question now is, can you cut it in the big leagues? You'd better hope so, if you want to see tomorrow.
"Finally, our list is rounded off by Ms. Ericka Bradley. Ericka, you've done what you needed to every step of the way. You're armed and steeled, but can you know that you'll win a real fight against competent opponents? It's been a long time since your first kill, when it really was self-defense, hasn't it? Your tactics have been fairly good, but do you think you can beat out the other four, now that they know you're coming?
"We'll find out soon enough. I'll be seeing one of you later, I suspect. Otherwise, this is goodbye. You are all to report to the Town Center as quickly as possible. Once everyone has arrived, every other area will be a permanent danger zone. As a reminder, the Town Center consists of the fountain, the open area around it, and the closest ring of houses. You'll have a little cover, if you want it. You'll know if you step out of bounds because your collar will beep for a few seconds. If that happens, get back before you explode. Nobody, after all, likes an anticlimax.
"Good luck. It's been a pleasure. Greynolds out."
EDIT: Screwed that up. The DZs work as Greynolds said, that is, they kick in once everyone is in the Town Center. Nothing else makes IC sense with the text of the announcement. Apologies. Also, the finals activity rules come into effect now, and supersede the 14-day rule:
Be sure to post when you're up. There's a topic in the planning board with the order and stuff. I'm pretty sure everyone's checked in there.wrote:Inactivity for endgame will be handled a little differently. Specifically, once it becomes your turn to post, you have six days to get a post up. If you fail to do so, your character gets yanked and inactive killed. It doesn't matter if you were supposed to win; inactivity will be enforced. Being Away is still allowed, but we're hoping to avoid huge delays caused by handlers being gone for months at a time.
If that describes you, if you have no interest in being in endgame, or if you do not feel that you can keep up with the posting regime, you can opt out by sending Help a PM stating that you are doing so. We'll count those characters as automatically rolled, then roll down to the final four (or five, or whatever we're doing this time) from whoever we have remaining.
Please note that six days is the absolute maximum. Really, it should take you much less than that. Bookkeeping is going to be very strict on this; you can and will get busted if you stray over 144 hours at all.
Finally, after staff discussions and the like, we've decided to keep V4's endgame publicly visible, so that people can keep up with it as it progresses. While this sacrifices a bit of cohesiveness and surprise, it also keeps interest in the current version strong, and allows members to follow along as progress is made.
Oh, also, a reminder: Post-Game is about halfway over. Get all your posts in by December 1st.
ALSO ALSO: V4 Final Plastic Hammers are up!
