| INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT |

That was a lie. The tunnels were constructed for the movement of extremely sensitive company projects and information, preventing any criminals from attacking convoys during transport and creating an additional layer of security. Once MAVU began to expand its research sites across the country and, eventually, the world, the system began to slowly decrease in its use; maintenance was slowly withdrawn, and the "burrows", as high-level research staff commonly called them, began to grow old and dilapidated with neglect.
This had all happened years ago, before Meier's or any other Praeceps member's time in MAVU; she'd been clued into their existence, however, by Veigneur, who had in turn been told by Vanderhaal. Fitting that she was using information Gamma gave her to save his life.
The walk from Opulence to the Industrial District was not overtly long, given that the two sectors were nearly adjacent to one another; the tunnel system had truly shown its age as Shira walked through the abandoned complex, various rusted pieces of equipment and machinery littering the walls as small pieces of refuse lay stuck to the ground in pools of stagnant, browned water. The occasional drip, drip sounded in the far distance, though she never truly saw the droplets of water that fell from the ceiling to make such a noise. Every so often, the lights above her would flicker, and Meier would constantly have to re-activate the lighting of each new sector she entered, seeing as the place hadn't been used in months, if not years.
The quiet run gave her time to mull over the news feeds, her anger strengthening with each new headline that appeared on the edges of her IRIS-capable ballistic goggles. Detroit subject to unprecedented terrorist attack. Hundreds dead, if not thousands. A small, nearly inaudible notification tone. Government officials and citizens evacuated as supercity transforms into war-zone. Opulence helicopter burns up in flames, appearance by Alpha in broadcast suggests Pack's involvement in terrorist plot.
One particular article, however, made her want to punch a hole in the concrete wall beside her. Shira spared herself the pain, however, and barely resisted the urge to lash out, noting how much her aggression had truly heightened. Her eyes narrowed as she carefully examined the photograph included in the piece, noting the face's familiarity.
Mayor and other officials dead in City Hall as terrorist kills, beheads— Pack claims responsibility.
Accessing the communications system within her lenses, Aleph sent out a message to Hudson— wherever he was— with the image of Zithuele attached. A message would arrive a second later, dictated by Shira herself.
"Delta's engaged with the Alpha. I'm on my way to the water treatment plant. They have Gamma. Go after the one in City Hall. Stay safe. We're putting these assholes down."
The tracker upon her phone was getting close, now; she suspected that she was close to the treatment plant, now, if not directly next to it. The soft beeping of the device grew more and more rapid with each step; realizing that this was the final calm before the storm, the operative patched into comms with Delta, hearing the the grainy sounds of gunshots and melee fighting.
"Status?"
"Working on it."
She deactivated the line. All she needed to hear was his voice to know that he was still alive.
Eventually, Aleph came upon a barred entrance marked with the generic, brass title of DETROIT WATER TREATMENT FACILITY— LOWER LEVEL. A simple push upward and pull outward was able to grant access to the handle, with Meier having to shoulder the entryway open from the amount of deterioration upon the hinges and frame. The metal door scraped upon the concrete ground, revealing a small hallway with yet another entrance at the end of it— though the material was wood instead of reinforced steel. Meier activated the infrared-hybrid overlay upon her IRIS lenses as she approached, viewing to signatures on the other side of the doorway. One which appeared to be in the corner, and one which was sitting.
Shira moved into a sprint and slammed her boot into the space below the door's handle, smashing its bolt off of the body and swinging it open. The breach was accompanied by Aleph's own movement into the basement, a series of incandescent bar lights illuminating a grimy, squalor-laden room. An unidentified civilian sat cowering in the corner, and in the center of the room was him— Jean Gravesend. She'd barely had any contact with him outside of a conversation with Veigneur about how much of a pervert he was.
As much as she would have loved to put a crater in his chest with the shotgun she was aiming at him, the doctor knew where Henri was. Had done things to him, things Shira did not want to think about. The operative made a note to make his death painful when this was all over.
"HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM. MAKE A MOVE AND I SHOOT." Aleph spat, giving a glance to the hostage in the corner of the room. It wasn't Veigneur, so that begged the question of where he truly was.
"WHERE IS BISSET?"