"Th-they finished the battle! We won, guys! WE WON!"
The result caused everyone in the hold-up archives to either breathe a sigh of relief, let out a whoop, or do a victory dance - Simmons did the last two, which resulted in him being blinked at for a few moments before the fat kid, Glad or Greg or something, leaped up to join.
The next few days were...complicated. Simmons was the unofficial - which was unusual even for itself, seeing as Sector Seven hardly did /anything/ that wasn't officialized within its own ranks - head of the cover-up. Nobody wanted to admit that there had been a giant alien robot deathmatch on American soil, so they didn't.
"Hallucinations," Simmons concluded triumphantly. "Mass hallucinations."
"Then how do you explain everyone seeing the same thing?"
"Look, you've already got a gas leak and when people start taking whiffs', they go a little crazy. One guy starts screaming about killer robots and soon enough everybody starts seeing it! Give 'em a free med check and they'll take it."
So that was the story. Mission City's gas lines had been disrupted by a bomb, with the guys who planted it under investigation ("They've got another Sector for making people up, right?"). The resulting gas leak caused mass hysteria, and the military had to be called in to help. Simmons was feeling pretty proud of himself until Agent Banachek announced that Sector Seven had been disbanded. Then he was feeling pretty pissed off.
"What the hell do you mean, disbanded!? We can't disband now! We've got more N.B.E.s t-"
"The remains of the dead ones have been scheduled to be dropped in the Laurentian Abyss," Banachek interrupted. "The live ones have been granted amnesty and citizenship by the President himself." He gave Simmons a meaningful look, and Simmons understood - 'They're off-limits' - though he had to bite back a comment about illegal aliens getting greencards. To break the silence that followed, Banachek continued explaining. "The President himself was the one to issue the order to disband."
Simmons looked around at the remains of Sector Seven - specifically, the chamber where N.B.E. 1 had been held. He scowled. This place had been in his bloodline for generations, with his grandfather being there when the Mega Man (Megatron? Whatever) had been pulled from the ice. Now hearing it was gone...
He didn't realize he'd been pouting and/or sulking until Banachek put a hand on his shoulder and cleared his throat lightly. "However," he said casually, "The President does -not- believe that it wouldn't pay to forget about this whole thing." Simmons looked towards him in mild confusion. "He's spoken to me about starting up a new Sector, based on...passive observation. It's not much, but it's something."
Simmons tilted his head skeptically. "Passive observation?" Then it hit him. "What, you mean you think he thinks that there's more of these guys coming?"
Banachek nodded. And Simmons managed a grin.
"Well, guess we'll just have to see them coming, this time."
It wasn't much, but it was something, at least.