~ We Are Canadians ~
Note: I am now continuing on my series. The whole thing starts before the first Soviet mission, and this may progress slowly, but the action will come soon. This is told from first-person perspective, outlining the character's life, and the actions that forced him to fight. So, read on, and enjoy!
Additional Note: This chapter and the next may be rather "rushed," as I want it to get to the more exciting parts.
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Chapter 1: Investigations and War
Canada, my beloved homeland. I lived there my whole life. I was born there, I grew up there, and I lived there. My life was going well. I had a beautiful girlfriend, Sophia. My job as a reporter for the Toronto Sun was rewarding, and it was the point in life many would enjoy for years to come. However, one event, not doing with Canada's peaceful nature, would ruin it all.
I woke up one morning to my alarm clock. I was woken even more from the noises of my younger siblings and the talking of my elderly parents. I, unlike many others, still visited and stayed with my parents once in a while. I got ready, ate breakfast, and went to work as usual. Upon arriving, I enter the work building. It was built of brown bricks, and the words "Toronto Sun" were to one side. Inside, it was busy, with the sounds of talking, and tapping of the keyboards for the latest story. I got to my office, and just as I set my briefcase down, a head popped around the wall.
"Hey Marc! Boss needs to see you in five minutes."
It was my friend, Alex. He had blond hair, and was a best childhood friend. We both worked there most of our lives, and the boss always sent us to areas to collect information. We reported to him, and he gave us a news article from an American newspaper that pretty much told us what we had to do:
*In the recent days, American hospitals, drug stores, and police have been responding to many cases of Americans having painful headaches, people buying more pain-relief drugs, made especially for treating headaches, and police have been responding to cases of people suffering from over usage of drugs, and people taking up arms and attacking civilian crowds. While these have been continuing on for many days, doctors and scientists around the nation have still failed to conclude why the people are acting like this. "It is certain that these events are linked to the revolutions in Mexico" says Dr. William Howell, PhD University of Seattle. "With the fighting in Mexico and the problems in our nation, all occurring at the same time should prove that they are linked somehow. But the question is: Can we figure it out before it is too late?"*
As I read over it, I handed it over to Alex, who seemed to be eager to read the problem. Our boss is sending us to New York. I was to go visit the police station there about a recent arrest of a man, and Alex is to visit the hospitals to find out more about this situation. After the briefing, we were on our way, using a helicopter the government loaned to us. It will get us to New York, and wait for us to come back. As the helicopter left Canada, my stomach hurt more than usual. It seemed to be a sign that something bad was going to happen. Well, I hope not.
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A few hours later, we were in New York. Alex went to the hospitals, and I left for the NYPD headquarters. I spoke to the officer there, and curiously, the suspect wasn't there. I soon learned that the suspect was transported to FBI. Upon hearing those letters, something didn't feel right. But it was nothing a cup of French Vanilla couldn't handle. I left again to the FBI headquarters. It was large, and security stopped me several times. I had a talk with them, and they let me question the suspect. They also handed me an information card. The suspect's name was Jacob Turner. From what it said, he killed his whole family, and later attacked eight civilians on the street, critically wounding two of them. He was arrested by NYPD, but he somehow escaped, and assaulted two police officers, one of which has died in hospital from severe beating. As I read over it, my mind concluded one thing: This man was a psycho. As I entered to room he was held in, FBI agents told me that they are waiting outside with their weapons, as the last interrogator suffered a broken arm because of him. This wasn't my lucky day.
"So, Mr. Turner," I asked him. He was a mid aged man with black hair and sullen eyes, with dark rings sagging down. He twitched many times, and his voice was shaking with fear.
"Wh-who are y-y-you?"
"I am Marc LeBlonqe. I am a reporter. I just need to ask you some questions" I responded back, in my nicest tone possible.
"G-g-go right on ahead."
The conversation between him and me uncovered many things. First of all, he doesn't remember killing his family and the police officer. Second, he said he had a painful headache, and also went to sleep just before the events. When he woke up, he said he was here. We spoke more and more, but he asked me several times about where is his family. I managed to hold off telling him, but as I was about to leave, he asked again.
"Where the hell is my family?!" he yelled, slamming his fist against the table. The table seem to crack. This didn't seem right.
"Well," I responded back. Was he ready for the answer? I had no choice. If I didn't tell him, he would most likely attack me. "You family...has died."
He looked at me as if he had no expression. His eyes were wide open, and his jaw was also open.
"What?! Who killed them?! Which bastard murdered them?!" he yelled very load. His eyes were now streaming with tears. He wasn't ready to hear it, but I told him.
"Um...While you were asleep, you woke up much earlier, and...killed your family, a police officer, and wounding two civilians" I didn't feel right about what I just said.
He was just staring at me like as if I was a completely strange person to him. But suddenly, he went from sadness to anger, and he hit the table again. The table broke before me, and he then lunged at me, yelling some words I couldn't interpret. Just then, FBI agents rushed in, and fired. Their bullets hit true, and he was now a still heap on the floor. I was shaking so much I couldn't seem to hold onto the papers I carried. I left a few minutes later, and met up with Alex. He went to the hospitals around the area, and a predictable ninety-nine percent of them all had the same symptoms: severe headaches, and many others had numbness. Nevertheless, we got back to Canada, and the information was soon in the papers. I left work later on, and went home. My family and Sophia were there, and we all had a large dinner. After it was done, Sophia left, and I later went to sleep.
* * *
I was awoken by my phone ringing. I looked at my watch, 4:34 AM. Oh my God, who found call me this early in the morning? I picked up the phone. It was Alex, in a rather panicked voice.
"Marc! Get your ass down here! We have a bit of a crisis!"
He hung up, and I got out of bed. I lazily got my teeth brushed, and my clothes changed, and I was off.
At the Toronto Sun, it did seem like there was a crisis. People were talking on the phones like no tomorrow, keyboards were being typed so fast that it seemed like there was a machine gun being fired. I proceeded to the meeting room. It was a large room with a nice oval table, comfortable chairs, and many electronics. As I walked in, every senior reporter was there. Many photographs were spilled out on the table, and the boss and reporters looked at them.
"Well...Good morning. What's going on?" I asked.
They all looked at me, and Alex handed me a bunch of photographs. I slowly looked at them. The first shown a group of blimps flying in formation. They didn't seem as if they were they were there for a football game, as they carried bombs. The second shown transports, letting out many vehicles. The third was of paratroopers. The fourth were showing giant tanks rolling across the desert.
"What the hell?" I said, with utter confusion.
"They're Soviet," a reporter replied back. "In a way, the same ones the World Socialist Alliance sent to Mexico. It all seems clear: They're here to invade."
The words "invade" didn't seem right to me. I thought they were there to control the civil wars, but even when they were there, they didn't have all those tanks, bombers, or paratroopers.
"But, what does this have to do with Canada?" I asked.
"Marc," my Boss replied. "Those Soviets are there to take the US. If they succeed, the next country they would take is Canada."
Upon hearing that, my heart skipped a beat. This was the real problem. While the US had their giant army, navy, and air force to protect them, Canada doesn't. Because we didn't go to war as much, Canada never needed an army, so we only maintained a small self-defence force. Against the full might of the Soviets, Canada and whatever defence we have would fall in a matter of minutes. But we were already at a risk, as Russia is closer to us than it is to the US. Our government was still deciding what to do, and we were now going to examine the photos more, as many keep being sent here. Just then, someone came through the door. It was our radio operator, Lenny. Judging by how hard he was breathing, this was important.
"Guys, we got something you should hear."
We followed him to the radio room. It was a small room, and in it was a radio, along with all sorts of other equipment for it. It was powerful, and we often picked up transmissions from virtually every radio station in the country, and some from the US. He inserted a tape, and a message played. IT was filled with static, but we could make out what it was saying.
"To all Allied troops listening to this! The Pentagon is under attack! We need reinforcements now! We're losing more GI's! There're just too many of them! Wait....Dear Lord, they're attacking again! Wait....Damn! The Pentagon has fallen! I repeat the Pentagon has-----"
The message ended, with a long line of static. From what we could make of it, the Soviets have attacked the Pentagon, the symbol of American military power, and have succeeded. During the next few hours, more photos were released. It shown the Pentagon being swarmed with Soviet paratroopers, and the GI's there desperately fighting back. But, as the message stated, there were too many of them, as the sky was filled with hundreds of soldiers. But a few more hours later, all radios, televisions sets, and so on, all played a message. It was from the Prime Minister, and he announced his proposal to keep the country and the people safe.
"People of Canada! Just a few hours ago, soldiers sent by the Soviet Union have attacked the United States of America, and destroyed the Pentagon, the symbol and organizational headquarters of the United States and Allies. The Soviet Union now has one objective: To dominate and conquer North America! We, the Canadian people, are not involved with the Allies, or with the affairs of the Soviet Union. We have negotiated a treaty with the leader of the Soviet Union, Premier Romanov. We, our country, people, and land is declared neutral. We shall not be involved with the conflict, and we will not ally with neither the Allies, or the Soviet Union."
The speech was long, but it could be summarized that we will not be in the war, and we are neutral. From what I later heard, Premier Romanov has accepted, as he claims "To attack a country that has never participated in recent wars, and has no means of defending itself would only be a cowardly act, and we the Soviet Union are not that type." I wasn't sure if I should trust what he said. But although the government chickened out of war, it should at least keep all of us safe for a short time. I hope. If not, it would be over for us in minutes.
End Note - Well, this is the first chapter. Although there isn't a lot of action, it sets the plot, and it will be more exciting later on. So please review, and remember, this is just the first. The next will show how Canada gets involved.