As the day drew to a close, the sun sunk down deep into the west past the mountains and forest. Shortly after its descent over the horizon, from the icy waters surrounding Anchorage a metal form emerged. Its marred frame limped up onto the shore. It was at an air harbor on the edge of the city. Most of the airplanes had been pulled from the water and lined up next to the main building that appeared to be a repair hangar. The robot moved slowly as the joints of the left leg ground together.
It pushed it's way through a side door and into the hangar. Once inside, the Legionnaire went to work. A crowbar helped separate the scraping metal in its leg. Then, it sandwiched the leg between two metal bars before wrapping it with strong, steel cable that it welded into place. Next, it reached into the plane and began to dismantle the radios, picking pieces and wires at will. When it had collected all it wanted, it laid out the pieces in an orderly fashion on a work table. With much difficulty, it removed a small plate close to the right shoulder blade. Many wires hung loosely from an apparent reworking earlier.
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"What is it, Major?" the General asked as he prepared to leave his office for the night. He had just put on his coat and was picking up his brief case and hat when the officer had come in.
"We're picking up the signal again, sir. It's not as strong as before, but we're triangulating it currently."
"Good," the General. "Get Myers and in here, and have Holmes prep a team for an immediate recovery mission."
"Yes, sir," the Major saluted before walking back out.
The General laid his hat and case back down and removed his coat.
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Three Black Hawks cut through the sky just feet above the water. "Alright, listen up!" Lt. Col. Holmes ordered. "I'm only going to say this once. No firing unless I give the order. Copy?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" the group of men sitting around him yelled in unison.
"Copy that," a voice informed him over his radio.
"This thing is huge; and, since it withstood a full payload from two Apache Longbows, I very seriously doubt your M-16's are going to have much effect on it. We will go in. I will deactivate it with the secondary command. We will load it up on the copter and return to base. Civilians have been removed from the area by the local authorities, but I don't want to take any chances. Keep your distance, and don't do anything unless I tell you to."
The helicopters stopped and hovered as they approached the air harbor. The soldiers of two Black Hawks repelled to the ground and met to create one team. The drop point was several yards from the hangar in an attempt to keep the robot off guard, if at all possible. They quietly approached the hangar and circled around until they found the crashed through door. Holmes entered first, closely followed by his men. As soon as he entered the robot stopped whatever it was doing and looked right at him.
Holmes lowered his gun and slid it to hang on his back from the shoulder. He raised both hands and moved towards the machine slowly. "Initiate emergency shut down protocol. Authorization code Foxtrot-Charlie-Zero-Seven-Two-Delta. Confirm." At that point, there should have been a series of flashes from a set of small spot lights lining the frame just before the robot puttered to stillness. Instead, the machine returned to the mess of tangled wires and radio parts. "Legionnaire, confirm," Holmes repeated. Still, nothing happened. "Well, that's disconcerting."
A hiss of static erupted from the speaker on the work table. In a voice reminiscent of a Speak-n-Spell, a voice crackled from the speaker. "... not Legi...aire." The machine continued to adjust its handiwork.
"Okay," Holmes said as he looked back to see if his men were as freaked out as he was. Indeed, they were. "Let me Star Trek this one," he mumbled before turning back to the machine. "Lt. Col. Davis, I am under orders to return you to..."
"I a. not Le..........olone..... Da..s," the robot continued to make adjustments as it spoke. "I ... D....r ...is Faber."
