SCP: "The Rise of The Administrator"

Chapter 20: The Show Begins - Part 3

The operator kept his breathing steady as Mu-12 advanced in formation through the narrow Parisian streets, the team's boots softly crunching against the pavement. Smoke curled up from the distance, and the distant echoes of gunfire rattled against the city's historic walls. Tension sat thick in the air as the squad approached Place de la Concorde, where reports indicated a fierce battle between the Sentinelle military forces and the traitorous attackers.

Each of the operators remained alert, rifles up, scanning windows and alleys, keeping their steps calculated and measured. The team had been moving through the city for nearly half an hour, covering each other as they advanced in silence. The eerie quiet of the city, punctuated by explosions and gunfire in the distance, made every corner feel like a trap.

"Eyes on the rooftops," whispered one of the operators over the comms. "No telling who might be hiding up there."

The squad leader, moving point, motioned for them to pick up the pace. They were nearing the Place de la Concorde, and the fighting was getting closer. They could hear the unmistakable chatter of machine gun fire and the occasional thud of grenades being thrown.

"Command," the squad leader spoke into his mic. "We've got eyes on the objective. Hostile forces heavily engaging Sentinelle at the Place de la Concorde.

What's the call?"

Léonard's voice came through over the radio, calm and decisive.

"Neutralize the hostiles. Secure the area and prepare it for incoming reinforcements. We need that square cleared for a landing zone."

"Copy that," the squad leader replied, turning to the rest of the team. "We're moving in.

Exterminate all hostiles and clear the area for the birds."

The order was clear. Mu-12 had their mission. The operator shifted his grip on his rifle and moved in formation with the others, heading toward the open plaza where the chaos unfolded.

The squad pressed through the streets until they were on the outskirts of the Place de la

Concorde. Civilians ran past them in terror, some shouting about soldiers shooting at them. One man fell to the ground, bleeding from a gunshot wound to his leg, and the operator felt a pang of anger as he saw the trail of violence that led to the square.

The closer they got, the more apparent the carnage became.

The once beautiful, historical plaza was a warzone now— overturned vehicles, shattered glass, and bodies littered the streets. Sentinelle soldiers were dug in behind makeshift barricades, trying desperately to hold their position as waves of traitorous forces pressed them from all sides. The traitors— police, military, all under the sick influence of SCP-035-laughed as they gunned down anyone in their path, their faces twisted in grotesque pleasure.

Mu-12 didn't hesitate. As soon as they got into a tactical position, they engaged.

"Take them down!" the squad leader barked. "Cover fire, now!"

The operator dropped to one knee behind a burned-out car, his rifle kicking against his shoulder as he let out controlled bursts of fire. He saw one of the traitors-formerly a soldier, judging by the uniform-go down, clutching his chest as blood spurted between his fingers. Another traitor popped up from behind a barricade, firing wildly at the Sentinelle forces, only to be dropped by a well-placed shot from one of Mu-12's marksmen.

The gunfire was deafening. Bullets zipped past the operator's head, forcing him to duck lower behind the vehicle. He peeked out just enough to squeeze off another burst, watching as another enemy crumpled to the ground.

The traitors were fighting with a viciousness that belied their training-wild, reckless, but also disturbingly effective. They charged in waves, sometimes dragging civilians with them as shields, laughing maniacally as they fired their weapons.

"They're not even trying to fight like soldiers anymore," one of the operators muttered over the radio. "They're just... animals."

"Focus!" the squad leader snapped. "Keep the pressure on. We need to secure this zone."

The operator moved up to the next position, sprinting behind a cluster of concrete barriers. He reloaded his weapon and popped back up, laying down suppressing fire for the others as they advanced.

The squad's coordination was flawless, their training kicking in as they methodically eliminated threats and pushed deeper into the square. Slowly but surely, they were driving the traitors back. The Sentinelle forces, seeing the tide of battle shift in their favor, began to rally as well, picking off the remaining hostiles with newfound vigor.

But it wasn't over yet.

The operator saw movement to his right-three traitors, slipping around the edge of a broken-down bus, attempting to flank their position. He raised his rifle and fired in quick succession, dropping two of them before they could react. The third one, however, lunged forward, screaming incoherently as he brandished a knife. The operator barely had time to react before the traitor was on top of him, slashing wildly at his vest.

The two men grappled, and the operator felt the cold steel of the knife graze his shoulder. With a grunt, he twisted the traitor's arm, forcing him to drop the knife before delivering a hard elbow to his face, sending him sprawling. In one swift motion, the operator raised his sidearm and put a bullet between the man's eyes.

He stood up, breathing heavily, his hands slick with blood-some his own, some not. The square was nearly cleared now. Sentinelle soldiers and Mu-12 operators were finishing off the last of the traitors, the gunfire beginning to die down.

"All hostiles neutralized," the squad leader reported over the radio. "We're securing the area now."

The operator took a moment to catch his breath, wiping the blood from his hands onto his fatigues.

The smoke and debris settled around them as silence finally returned to the plaza, the bodies of friend and foe alike strewn across the once-pristine streets.

"Overlord, this is Mu-12," the squad leader called in. "Place de la Concorde is secure. We've got the zone locked down for the incoming helos."

"Good work, Mu-12," Léonard's voice came through. "Hold your position and prepare for reinforcements. We're bringing in more support to clean up this mess."

The operator slung his rifle over his shoulder and glanced around at the scene. The battle was over, but the war for Paris was far from finished.

—

A few minutes ago

Corporal Mathieu adjusted his grip on the rifle, sweat trickling down his face despite the cool evening air. He and Sergeant Traoré were pinned behind an overturned car on the chaotic Place de la Concorde, engaged in a brutal firefight with the rogue police and military forces that had turned against them. The once-picturesque Parisian square had become a war zone, the air thick with gunfire, smoke, and the desperate cries of civilians fleeing for their lives. 

"We're not going to hold much longer," Traoré muttered, keeping low as bullets whizzed overhead.

Mathieu nodded, glancing around for any sign of reinforcements. The Sentinelle units scattered across the square were fighting valiantly, but the traitors seemed endless. The situation was dire—until he noticed movement to the east.

"Sergeant," Mathieu said, tapping Traoré on the shoulder and pointing. "Look."

From the eastern side of the square, a group of heavily armed men moved swiftly into position. They were clad in RAID uniforms, moving with precise, tactical discipline. Mathieu watched as they took cover behind abandoned vehicles and rubble, their weapons trained on the rogue forces.

"Is that... the RAID?" Mathieu asked.

Traoré's eyes narrowed, watching the unit as they seamlessly integrated into the fight. The RAID team began laying down suppressive fire with deadly accuracy, their presence immediately shifting the momentum in the Sentinelles' favor.

"We need to coordinate with them," Traoré said quickly, reaching for his radio. "We can't do this alone."

Mathieu nodded, signaling to the nearby Sentinelle squads to hold their fire as Traoré got on the radio. "Bravo-2 to RAID squad, do you copy? We are engaging hostiles on Place de la Concorde. We need support to neutralize enemy forces and secure the area."

For a moment, there was no response, just the crackling of gunfire and the sounds of the battle raging on. Then, through the static, a calm, authoritative voice replied.

"Copy, Bravo-2. This is RAID Team Leader. We're moving to assist. Maintain your position and engage on our mark."

"Copy that," Traoré confirmed before turning to Mathieu. "They're with us. Let's hit these bastards together."

The command was clear. Mathieu and his fellow Sentinelles synchronized with the RAID team, adjusting their positions for a combined assault. As the RAID squad laid down covering fire, Mathieu and Traoré led their unit in a flanking maneuver, taking advantage of the confusion caused by the sudden appearance of the RAID operatives.

Moving from cover to cover, Mathieu fired in controlled bursts, his rifle recoiling against his shoulder as he and his squad advanced. The rogue forces were disorganized, some even retreating as the combined pressure from the Sentinelles and the RAID became overwhelming.

"On your six!" Traoré shouted as a rogue soldier emerged from behind a burned-out car, aiming his weapon at Mathieu. Before Mathieu could react, one of the RAID operatives put a bullet between the traitor's eyes, the enemy soldier collapsing to the ground.

"Thanks," Mathieu breathed, nodding his appreciation to the RAID operative, who simply gave a curt nod and continued advancing with the unit.

Together, the Sentinelles and RAID operatives cleared the square, methodically neutralizing the remaining traitors. The gunfire began to slow as the last of the hostiles were either killed or forced to retreat. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the square fell silent except for the crackling of distant fires and the occasional groan of the wounded.

Breathing heavily, Mathieu glanced around, taking in the aftermath of the battle. The square was littered with bodies—both civilian and military—blood staining the cobblestone streets. But they had done it. The Place de la Concorde was secure, for now.

"Sergeant," Mathieu called out, kneeling next to Traoré, who was already on the radio. "We've secured the square. What's next?"

Traoré nodded, wiping the sweat and grime from his face as he keyed his radio. "Bravo-2 to Command, do you copy? Place de la Concorde is secure. I repeat, the area is secure, and hostiles have been neutralized. Over."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Command responded. "Copy that, Bravo-2. Good work. You're one of the few remaining units in the area to report a successful operation. What's your current status on reinforcements?"

"Reinforcements?" Traoré echoed. He hesitated, glancing back at the RAID unit that had been instrumental in their success. "We received support from a RAID unit. They're still on-site, assisting with securing the area."

The radio crackled again, this time with more urgency. "Bravo-2, clarify that. We haven't deployed any RAID units to your position. Your reinforcements are still pinned down at Place de la République. Are you sure it's RAID?"

Traoré froze, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at the RAID team, who were regrouping nearby. "Command, I'm looking at them right now. RAID insignia, full tactical gear. They fought alongside us and helped secure the square."

Command's voice was tense when it replied. "Sergeant, we have no record of a RAID deployment to your location. Get a positive ID on that unit immediately. This could be a serious issue."

Traoré felt a chill run down his spine. He motioned for Mathieu to follow him as they cautiously approached the RAID operatives. Mathieu's mind was racing—if these men weren't RAID, then who the hell were they?

As they neared the RAID unit, the squad leader turned towards them, his face partially obscured by his helmet and visor. "Sergeant," the man said calmly, "we need to secure the perimeter and establish an LZ for incoming forces."

Traoré hesitated before nodding slowly. "Understood. We'll handle that." He turned back to Mathieu, speaking quietly. "Stay sharp, Caporal. Something's not right here."

Mathieu nodded, gripping his rifle tighter as he kept his eyes on the RAID squad. Despite their help in the battle, there was an air of mystery around them that he couldn't shake.

As the Sentinelles began securing the square and setting up a landing zone for the supposed reinforcements, Traoré keyed his radio again. "Command, we're proceeding with securing the area. However, I need confirmation on that RAID unit. Something's off."

"Understood, Sergeant," Command replied. "We're looking into it. Hold your position and await further orders."

With the immediate threat neutralized, a tense silence fell over the square. The Sentinelles and the mysterious RAID operatives worked side by side, but the questions lingered in the air: Who were these men, and why had they appeared at such a crucial moment without anyone knowing?

As Traoré and Mathieu exchanged a glance, they knew that the battle for Paris was far from over—and that the answers they were searching for might be even more dangerous than the enemies they had just faced.

---

The air was thick with tension as Mu-12 secured the perimeter of the Place de la Concorde, knowing full well that the Sentinelle soldiers were watching them with growing suspicion. They had fought side by side moments ago, but now, with the battle's lull, the tension between the two forces was palpable. The disguises they wore—RAID uniforms, tactically precise yet fundamentally a lie—had allowed them to blend in with the French forces for now. But the questions that lingered behind the eyes of the soldiers couldn't be ignored forever. 

"Stay sharp, but don't give them a reason to question us," the team leader had said, his voice low and calm over the radio. "We just need to hold this position until our reinforcements arrive. Focus on the mission."

The operator adjusted his grip on his rifle, scanning the area as they maintained their formation around the square. Every now and then, one of the Sentinelle soldiers would glance over, clearly uneasy, but nothing more came of it. The real threat was still out there—the corrupted forces under the influence of SCP-035. The operator knew that this mission would only get more dangerous as they closed in on their target.

Suddenly, his earpiece crackled to life.

"Mu-12, this is Overlord," came Léonard's familiar voice, steady and authoritative. "Reinforcements en route. Gamma-18 and Delta-0 are five minutes out. They need a visual signal to lock onto your position. Be ready to confirm."

The operator turned to his squad leader, who nodded silently and retrieved a small cylindrical laser device from his pack. He activated it, a narrow beam of green light cutting through the night sky. The squad leader rotated the laser slowly in a tight circle, sending the signal out for the incoming helicopters.

"Overlord, this is Mu-12 leader," the squad leader spoke into his radio. "Signal sent, awaiting confirmation."

The operator kept his eyes on the sky, his ears pricked for any sound of the approaching choppers. It wasn't long before a voice crackled over the comms.

"Copy that, Mu-12. Visual confirmed. We're inbound. ETA five minutes."

The operator exhaled in relief. The reinforcements were arriving at the perfect moment. Soon, they would no longer be just a small unit operating under the radar—they would have the full weight of the Foundation behind them, disguised as the French military.

Moments later, the sound of rotors cutting through the air reached them, and the operator spotted the dark shapes of several helicopters emerging from the night sky. They hovered over the square for a few tense seconds before descending, the downdraft kicking up dust and debris as they came to rest on the landing zone Mu-12 had cleared.

Doors slid open, and from each helicopter, teams of fully armed operatives poured out—agents of the Foundation disguised as RAID and GIGN. The operator counted them: three hundred, split into multiple units, all of them armed to the teeth and ready for the grim task ahead.

As the last of the agents disembarked, the military presence around them became undeniable. The Sentinelles soldiers took note, reporting over their radios to higher command about the sudden and unexpected influx of supposed "RAID" and "GIGN" forces. The operator overheard bits of their communication, knowing that questions would soon turn into inquiries. But for now, they had a job to do.

"Mu-12, this is Overlord," Léonard's voice crackled through the comms again. "Your reinforcements have arrived. Regroup with the other teams and prepare to move on SCP-035's last known position. We're going in hard and fast. No mistakes. Delta-0 and Gamma-18 are your heavy support—use them wisely. Over."

"Copy that, Overlord," the Mu-12 leader responded. "We're heading to the rendezvous now."

The operator fell into formation with the rest of Mu-12, who had begun moving toward the center of the square where the other reinforcements were gathering. As they reached the makeshift command post, he saw the team leaders of Gamma-18 and Delta-0 already deep in discussion with the ground commanders.

At the heart of it all, several of the commanders from Mu-12, Gamma-18, and Delta-0—alongside the leaders of the field agents squads—were gathered around a large tactical map laid out on a table. The map detailed the streets of Paris and marked the last known locations of SCP-035's activity. Red circles indicated areas of heavy resistance from the corrupted forces under 035's influence, while blue markers represented their current footholds.

The operator joined his squad as the squad leader approached the commanders.

"We need to neutralize the remaining rogue forces before they spread any further," said one of the field commanders, a no-nonsense tone in his voice. "They're entrenched across multiple districts, with the largest concentration believed to be near SCP-035's last known location—an underground bunker complex in the northern catacombs. That's our primary target."

The commander of Mu-12 nodded, his gloved hand tracing the route on the map. "We'll handle the direct assault. We have the firepower to breach and clear, but we'll need Delta-0 and Gamma-18 to secure the surrounding streets and neutralize any remaining rogue forces before we advance."

Mu-12's leader glanced at the map, noting the choke points and strategic positions around the target area. "We'll sweep the streets, secure the perimeter, and set up kill zones for any corrupted forces trying to reinforce SCP-035's position. We'll need constant communication between all teams—any deviation, and this could get ugly fast."

As the plan solidified, the operator took in the gravity of what lay ahead. The corrupted forces had already turned Paris into a battlefield, and now they would have to fight through waves of brainwashed police and military personnel to reach their target.

"Remember," Overlord's voice cut in over their comms, steady and clear, "035 is the priority. The longer it remains free, the more chaos it will create. Capture is preferred, but termination is authorized if necessary. No unnecessary risks. Move out when ready. Overlord, out."

The commanders nodded in agreement before stepping back to relay orders to their respective teams. The operator adjusted his gear, securing his rifle as he exchanged a quick look with his fellow Mu-12 members. They had been through hell and back together, and they were ready to do it again if it meant stopping SCP-035.

Their squad leader approached, his expression hard as steel. "Alright, Mu-12," he said, his voice steady but firm. "We've got our orders. We sweep the perimeter, engage any hostiles, and clear the way for the main force. Watch your six, stay tight, and for God's sake, keep your heads down. Let's move."

With that, Mu-12 moved out, the sound of the helicopters fading into the distance as the teams prepared for the next phase of the mission.

"Overlord to all Stations, give them hell," Overlord's voice boomed through every radio channel of The Foundation agents. "The counterattack begins now."