What follows is a chronological order of events that take place in a series, written by an Agent within The Division who shall remain anonymous. He shares his nickname at the end of each entry, so that his friends and family will recognize, that they may keep up to date with his journey. The entries are date stamped the day they are received, which may not reflect the day they were written, as some entries may cover multiple days. They are posted as they come in, unaltered.

03-30-2016

Day 4

I was somewhere around Chelsea, on the edge of the park when I got the call over my Comm. I remember the voice saying something like: “JTF Officer trapped inside computer shop North-East of your position – Pennsylvania Plaza”. And suddenly I was standing, and my feet were me carrying off. 

How is it that we’ve been doing this for only a few short days, and yet it feels like a lifetime? I can’t sleep. That probably has something to do with it. My body moves me from one task to the next, mission after mission, my SCAR-L rifle is dead weight in my hands. If I came across a group of rebels, I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself. I robotically check the magazine anyways.

It was almost noon by the time I reached the corner of Barren Street and Empty Boulevard. There is no going back, I had an obligation to see the mission through, for good or ill. I almost stumbled over PIKEY and ARCHITECT who had arrived moments before. My solo expedition had expanded after I met a few Agents during the Benitez mission yesterday, they were the ones that helped me get back to HQ, and I’m forever grateful. We have our GPS’ linked up so we can track each other in case we need some backup. I had a nervous feeling this would be one of those cases. Not that I thought we’d need three agents to rescue the JTF Officer, but once you become reliant on someone watching your back, you kind of want that to be the permanent case.

The only thing that really worried me was ARCHITECT’s eagerness to “defend” himself. It seemed that he was starting to look for trouble. There had been some reports of some of the Agents going rogue, taking advantage of this situation, and their access to goods and weapons. Even as far as providing intel to assist the enemy groups. I’ll have to watch him.

The computer shop, it turns out, was not heavily defended. Two rebels inside, and one outside that showed up when the first chatter of gunfire echoed around the block. After calling HQ to request a pick-up for our rescued brother, we started off towards Manhattan Mall, the main mission for the day. Equipped with heavy duty filters, our mission was to extract some physical evidence from the teller machines in the shopping mall. The Medical Wing at HQ believes that we’ll be able to find some quality samples for testing. 

Continue the good fight, soldier.

How long can we maintain though? I realize its only been 4 days, but there’s rumours that no more help is coming from outside? That’s hard to believe. The outside world has got to start coming to the same grim realization that I am. There is no coming back from this outbreak. Are those of us in here doomed? We’re helping the medical teams in here so they can relay the information outside the quarantine to come up with a cure. But will that help us in here too? Or just the rest. Maybe that’s why some of the agents are going rogue? Making their stay worth it. While the rest of us remain oblivious.

We arrived at the Mall without hassle, but there was already smoke billowing out. The Cleaners had likely arrived and were torching everything.  PIKEY checked in with Comm and relayed that the power to the sprinkler systems needed to be restarted. He started off on his own, and left ARCHITECT and me to start the attack. 

Let’s get to the heart of this one: this is a very ominous assignment, with obviously an extreme amount of personal danger. Cleaners, Concentrated Contagion, and Fire. Triple checking my mask’s filter, which for all I know is just for show, I braced for the heat and ducked into the smokey Mall entrance. Comm had given us a short list of shops to check – those that deal in smaller transactions, hoping for more physical evidence – so ARCHITECT and I split up to cover more ground.

Three shops each had been cleared out when the Cleaners became aware of our presence, or more specifically – mine, and lets get the record straight: The Cleaners use flamethrowers. These handy filters of ours can block the smoke in the air, but not the heat. I needed to find an escape quickly. I started by calling PIKEY and ARCHITECT to my position to flank the attackers. The sprinklers erupted from the ceiling and started dousing some of the fires, but the Cleaners would not be deterred. Hell stilled spewed from down the hall in my general direction, and I was trapped. When the first Cleaner neared the entrance to my shop, I shot at the fuel tanks straddling his back, ensuring that he was now his own problem. PIKEY and ARCHITECT arrived shortly after to eliminate the others.

I’m sure adding fuel to the fire didn’t help what happened next. 

The vibrations shuddering the first floor announced the inevitable structural damage, and our need to leave. We bagged what bills we could get from the teller machines and escaped through another entrance to the bright, brisk, fire-free sunlight. Hopefully Medical can make use of what we did end up grabbing before the fire took the rest. Our primary responsibility, after all, is the survival of the rest of the human race. I will have to remind myself that when the next bleak news hits.

I’m back at HQ now. If anyone asks, I’ll just say that I’m writing a field report. They haven’t caught on to our little devious plan in dropping off the USB in the secure mail boxes. We change it up each day. I get the USB back in the same box as I dropped it off in, but inside the USB is a new file with a new mailbox number and code. It’s pretty smart. I guess I’m revealing my plan to those that cared to look, but I’ll take my chances.

Getting some extra rations for tonight and tomorrow took some extra negotiating but I got what I asked for. I have a rest day tomorrow thankfully, but I understand why they are trying to limit my take-home. The civilian rations are being controlled now, so it would seem unfair if an Agent walked out with more. I’ll just make sure I’m not followed home. Wouldn’t want any trouble.

-iRogan
01261985 

What follows is a chronological order of events that take place in a series, written by an Agent within The Division who shall remain anonymous. He shares his nickname at the end of each entry, so that his friends and family will recognize, that they may keep up to date with his journey. The entries are date stamped the day they are received, which may not reflect the day they were written, as some entries may cover multiple days. They are posted as they come in, unaltered.

03-21-2016

 DAY1

So I’ve survived day 1. I got the call that I had been dreading and now I’m here, for lack of a better word: alone. The message was received on my watch at oh-nine-hundred yesterday, March 19th, and I went straight to my local base to get on the next transport. I was expecting the message, but didn’t think it would come this soon, and with so little warning. Luckily I don’t have any pets, or a girlfriend or fiance at home. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my friends or Mom though. So, uh, goodbye everyone. I hope to see you again, or hear from you when this is all over. Mom, I love you and miss you, and I’m OK. I guess I should get that out of the way right away. I’m OK.

A little back story – I’m a Division Agent. Surprise! Right? Who would have guessed? One of many agents actually. We were enlisted, and trained in basic combat, and survival techniques. Nothing fancy. We know how to shoot, track, and survive. And basic comm skills. It’s not our day job, but something that we get some compensation on the side for, to keep up emergency supplies and rations, and so they can keep tabs on us. We’re a sleeper emergency response unit basically, to be called upon when shit gets real, when the government needs to regain control of its people. In the event of a disaster or something. We report to the Strategic Homeland Division and assist the JTL, or Joint Task Force to help restore some order to the city.

What I don’t need to tell you is that disaster has struck, in the form of a smallpox pandemic. Someone called it the “Dollar Flu” and the name has stuck. Its central to New York right now, and the city has been quarantined. With me inside. There aren’t many people left here either. Anyone left here standing is immune and the rest are, well, diseased. The disease transferred by touch through money, physical money. And in a heavily populated area like New York, money changes hands constantly. That’s why it spread so fast.

I got one of the locals to snap a picture of me standing underneath a “No Standing Anytime” sign. The sign could be referring to me, or The X-Men. I didn’t ask for clarification.

They have the base of operations set up James A. Farley Post Office, and that was my first stop today. Met with the commanding officers and was given my gear, guns, some food while I’m mobile and my Comm pack. Met a few of the other Agents, but the expectations of us are to go somewhat alone, so that we’re more spread out across the city, and not clumped together. As a result of the Dollar Flu, and the city being quarantined, there is some pretty heavy looting and destruction of the city by the survivors. Basically thugs. The cockroaches are the ones to survive right? Our primary objective as an Agent is to clean up the city while the cause of the pandemic is determined, and a cure is created. As we are ground zero, we also have to follow the commands of the higher-ups, in case we’re give a mission.

Looting and destruction isn’t the worst of it. People have been taken hostage, people are fighting over whole streets, and claiming it as their own, like a gang mentality. No city services are running, so there’s fires everywhere. I’m surprised the power is even still running. There doesn’t really seem to be a lot of news leaving the area either. At the head base while I was waiting for my turn to be called for gear, I was watching the TV of the outside connection they had setup, and the news was talking about the virus and the quarantine, and that’s it. I’m guessing they don’t want people to know how bad it actually is, how bad the looting has gotten, or how high the death toll has risen. The JTL has no way of removing the dead bodies, and no real means of cleaning up the city. I’m not sure if they’re keeping them for testing, but there’s a lot of covered bodies around. I heard they have a huge incinerator near the construction site of the train tunnels.

I’m not allowed to talk to media or share anything. I have a little wireless chromebook that I keep with me, which is how I’m writing to you, but there’s no network or internet connections throughout the entire Downtown Manhattan. Only the Base has the hard-line connection and Satellite. Luckily the base is located in a Post Office though, and post offices deal in mail. I have a friend who works in Comms, and he has access to the Network and Comms to Brooklyn. I’ve given him the info to my work’s FTP. I work for a local free newspaper. They’ll get it, and hopefully post it somewhere. The plan is to drop off a USB drive with the entry into a secure mailbox, he uploads it, and puts the drive back. I have to check in at the HQ every morning and evening anyways for the daily rations, so this setup should work. Unless the Base gets attacked, or either of us get found ot, or I die. But lets not get ahead of ourselves.

I’m sharing this because I feel people need to know, and so my family knows I’m OK. This city is contaminated. We wear masks so that we don’t breath anything in. The streets are littered with abandoned cars. Its a mess. I’m staying in an apartment building a couple blocks away from the post office. Keeps me close,  but not too close. I also take a different route home everyday, just in case. The condo is nothing special – its already been looted and no one else was staying here. I sleep on the floor and don’t touch any of the furnishings without gloves, and it has power and heat most importantly, since its still late winter here. Hasn’t quite warmed up yet outside. It has running water too, which I’ll boil so I can bathe.

So that’s that. I made it through day one. It’s dark outside and I’m exhausted. They told me today was basically for orientation and to get situated, since I was one of the last transports in, but tomorrow … tomorrow is when the real deal begins. Oh-six-hundred – be ready. And I intend to be. Hopefully this message makes it out. It’ll be at least 12 hours old by the time anyone reads it I suspect. Hopefully another one will follow.

-iRogan
01261985