Atomic
Chapter 1: The Blast
Alcomo Flats, Divan, Premier. Monday 24th August 1998. 11:01 GMT -6.
The Alcomo Flats, the most worthless piece of territory to the country of Premier (USA). There was nothing, no resources, no farm less, nothing: just desert. It's only use was as a weapons test site; which it had been. It was the testing site for the world's first nuclear bomb, tested in 1948. It continued to be used as a site until 1963 when the area became so radioactive that the Premian Army and Air Force couldn't risk sending anymore men to the area and closed it.
But that didn't mean that the site wasn't still used. It was used by another man: Dr. Ivo Robotnik.
Robotnik sent his own money on rebuilding the site with building that can withstand the radiation and the equipment and kits for his men to work.
The flats were the prefect hideout because the Premian Government didn't believe that anyone could on the build and use it.
"Mysico, have all the troops left site B?" Robotnik (remember people, in my version he is a chimpanzee) asked in his German sounding accent to his second in command.
"Everyone who was counted for," Mysico answered.
"Good," Robotnik said, "start the countdown."
"Very well," Mysico said and picked up his radio. "Start the countdown."
After a couple of second, the control team to start the countdown.
"T-minus 3 minutes," the voice on the speaker said.
"This is going to be a great moment in our history," Mysico said to Robotnik.
Dr. Ivo Robotnik, the world's most brilliant scientist and Former Major-General Mysico Magic one of the world's best military experts and physically the world's most powerful man. Both men were powerful themselves, but together they made one hell of a team. Both men meant up by change in a hotel in Troham (France) straight after Mysico left his home country away being count martial and framed for murder. Mysico always had an interest in his country's politics but never did anything about it, but men in the army saw him as a threat and wanted him in prison and out the way. But he quickly freed the country with a fake passport and using his shapeshifting abilities and went on the next flight available.
T-minus 25 seconds.
In the middle of the desert of the flat was the body of a man; a jaguar. He was an up and coming officer for Robotnik's forces and his companions hated him for it. They attacked him, knocked him out and left him for dead.
He was unconscious on the ground. He was slowly regaining consciousness; there were 15 seconds to go.
He was confused and it took five seconds before he remembered where he was and what happened, but it was too late for him to run.
"Oh God, Oh God," he muttered to himself.
There was a massive bang and a white flash, which blinded him. The wind picked up and the temperature was starting to rise.
In the control centre was a great celebration; very one jumping up and down and cheering; everyone except Robotnik and his elite guards (technically their are his generals).
Everyone could see out the window the mushroom cloud. Robotnik did it; he made a working nuclear bomb and could bring his war against the world to a new level. Now he can attack major cities and the countries wouldn't be able to fight back.
None of his enemies knew that he was building a bomb, the only country that knew was Ferutme and that was because they were selling him uranium.
The Comevalo, Petrograd, Rex. Same day. 20:31 GMT +3.
The Comevalo was near the centre of Petrograd, the capital of Rex. The building was imposing on the citizens. It was a sign of power, yet fear within the communist state. This was because it was the headquarters of the KGB.
The building was new; it was only finished in 1996. It was modern and now can truly rival the CIA and MI6 for technology, even though the KGB was one of the best agencies for human intelligence.
On the second floor was a small section devoted to satellite intelligences (Спутниковые интеллекты). They were men and women at computers continually looking at information from their satellites. Rex didn't have as much money as Premier for satellites but still can send some up into space. Technically both sides put their spying war on hold so they could focus on Ivo Robotnik, but it didn't mean they couldn't have a look in on other countries.
One of the operators (a 34-year-old male wolf) was looking at photos sent from the Sputnik X: it was Rex's most modern satellite and it was orbiting Premier. He was just clicking thought the photos; they were all just photos of desert. Then he clicked on JPEG 1219.
"OH SHIT!!!!" the operator shouted and moved his chair backwards and fell off.
Everyone in the room rushed to toward him.
"What is it?" a female Russian hamster asked.
"Look at the screen," he answered.
All of the operators looked and saw a series of photos of the mushroom cloud getting bigger in the middle of the desert.
There was a lot muttering and whispering. This was major. It could many things: Premier building new nukes to take out Rex or Ferutme or it could be terrorists.
"CONTACT COL. ARGINA!!!!" the senior operator shouted.
It took 10 minutes for Colonel Argina to arrive in the control room. The colonel was a 51-year-old European Eagle Owl, with bright orange eyes. He was join head of the satellite intelligences division. At this level they was normally two heads of division; one for mornings and afternoon and one for evenings and nights.
"What is the problem comrades?" Col. Argina asked.
"A nuclear bomb went of in the desert in Premier," the wolf operators answered. "See for yourself."
The colonel looked at the computer and saw the same set of photos.
"Oh Christ!!" Col. Argina yelled. "YOU!!!" he shouted, pointing to the operator, "put the photos on to two disks."
"Give me five minutes."
Eароhb, Petrograd, Rex. Same Day. 22:12 GMT +3.
The Eароhb was the area of Petrograd where Government officials lived, e.g. Foreign Minster, Minster of the Police, Minster of Weapons production and Head of the KGB.
The head of the KGB was General Sergei Immarov, a 63-year-old male polar bear. His hair was grey and he wasn't as active as he was. He was experience agent and master of languages. He joined the KGB straight after leaving university and never looked back.
At the time he was watching the post-match showing of the local derby between Spartak Petrograd and CSKA. Spartak were the best club in Rex but sold their best striker, defender and goalkeeper to clubs abroad. They were still good, but it was tougher challenge for the league title. As a life love Spartak fan he was dismayed by the loses.
His telephone rang.
"Hello," he said.
"General, this is Major-General Emmient I'm sorry to bother but I urgent news," the male voice said. The general was the head of space intelligence, a small wing of the KGB but he still had a position on the KGB cabinet.
"What is it?"
"Check your e-mails," General Emmient answered. "It will be easier to explain."
Sergei went into his study and turned on his PC. It took a moment for it to load up log onto his KGB account. He clicked onto the e-mail from Major-General Emmient. He had a map of Premier with an area in the south west circled. He then saw the photos of mushroom cloud.
"I see," he said into his phone.
"That's why I couldn't wait for the meeting tomorrow. So what you plan to do?"
"We can't do anything. I will give the President a copy of the photos and get him to come to the meeting tomorrow. But the only think I can do is send a copy to MI6."
"Why?" Emmient asked.
"Because they are the only agency that can do anything plus we own them one plus I know for a fact that it isn't a Premian site."
"How?"
"Because that site has been closed for over 30 years."
15 Gravinton Street, Immerson, Emerald, Freemantle. Same Day. 19:15 GMT.
Immerson was in the north of Emerald city. It was an expensive area of the city and only the rich lived there. Gravinton Street was a heavy guarded street; the residents had a private security firm to secure the street and most people had high tech security system and bomb prove doors and windows.
In number 15 was Dame Catherine Walters (a 54-year-old female lioness). She was the head of MI6. To everyone in the intelligence world she called 'M'. The only people that knew her name was the Prime Minister (plus some cabinet ministers), her deputy, head of MI5, chairman of the JIC (Join Intelligences Committee) and the heads of rival intelligences organisations.
Catherine was sitting in her study, drinking a glass of fine scotch. Her husband going to a conference in Yarnbroke and the children were downstairs watching television. She was listening to classical music, a love of hers.
She was resting her eyes, enjoying the music when her phone rang. It rang twice before she picked it her.
"Hello," Catherine answered.
"Evening Catherine," Sergei said in a Russian accent.
"Ah Sergei, what can I do for you," she said and checked her watch. "It's about quarter pass ten where you are."
"It is. But anyway, my space intelligences division have taken some interesting photos in Premier, in Divan to be more precise. I will send you a fax of the photographs tomorrow morning."
"Thank you Sergei."
"We are even now."
"My agents will something very soon."
Both of them hang up. That call spoiled Catherine's evening and now she could only think about tomorrow morning.
Lambrick Square, Emerald, Freemantle. Tuesday 25th August 1998. 8:58 GMT.
Dame Catherine Walters entered the headquarters of MI6 with a small team of police; which was normal. She would be a popular target for assassins. She was wearing a black raincoat (because it was pouring heavily with rain), a business suit underneath and a pair of sunglasses with red lens.
She went into her lift and went up to her office on the top. As she entered her office she removed her coat, hang it up and went to her desk. She looked out her windows. On a good day she could get a great view of Emerald (think of London), but all she saw was heavy rain and black clouds; and this was meant to be summer she thought.
As she sat down Sergei sent the fax of all the satellite photographs and a letter with all the details. Catherine took a quick look at the photos and the letter and went outside to see her secretary.
"Jennifer, can you call JC, 5 and Agent Gold please," she said to her.
Lambrick Square, Emerald, Freemantle. Same day. 9:25 GMT.
Sir Daniel Lord; AKA 5 (head of MI5) and Sir Andrew Barr; AKA JC (chairman of the JIC) both arrived at Lambrick. Daniel was a 57-year-old grizzly bear and Andrew was a 62-year-old squirrel.
Daniel had a quick car journey across the river. Andrew had a helicopter trip from Blackhall (the area of the city where most of the government ministries are based). Both men didn't know why Catherine wanted them.
Both men entered her office.
"Morning gentlemen," she said. "Please, hang up your coats and sit down."
Both men did that. Andrew was wearing a black suit with a blue shirt and silver tie. Daniel just had a blue shirt with a white collar and cuffs, with a red tie.
"I'll go straight to the point," Catherine said and put the photos Sergei sent her on her desk. Daniel and Andrew both picked up some copies of the photos.
"Shit," Andrew said under his breath.
"These photos were taken by a KGB satellite over Divan state in Premier," Catherine said. "Sergei Immarov sent them to me this morning. The site was Divan weapon test site A, a site which hasn't been used since 1963. There are many terrorist groups we would have to look into, but asked yourself, who's the only man with the money, links and resources to do this."
"Robotnik," Daniel said.
"Exactly."
"What do you want us to do?" Andrew asked.
"Well, you'll give the photos to the committee and the Prime Minister. Daniel, I want you to get your agents to check all air and seaports, to make sure they isn't any funny activity. Also get your agents to check businesses."
"And what about MI6?" Daniel asked.
"I'll get my agents to check foreign businesses and governments with nuclear technology and uranium and other resources needed to make the bomb."
"But what site? What if he made move and going to send it aboard or with Premier? What are you going to do?" Daniel was asking.
"I'm already thinking ahead of you. I'm about to contact one of my agents to start a field op to get information and destroy the site. I will need help from both of you. I'm sure we'll meet with the Prime Minister in a week's time."
"Thank you Catherine," Andrew said. "Fax the photos to me."
"See your," Daniel said.
Both men left her office. She pressed a button on her intercom.
"Jennifer, could you link me to Agent Gold."
Britannia House, Africa, Lion. Same Day. 13:30 GMT +4.
In his office in the Freemantlish embassy was William Gold (the Final chapter 5). All he was doing was looking on the internet to see the cricket scores. He should have an inquiry against him because he single handed pissed of Lion's secret service and missed a group of potential assassins that could have killed the king. Let he put all the blame of the Lions and he got off scot-free.
"DAMN IT!" he yelled and punched his desk. His home county (Lemeanshire) was all out for 223 runs and other side were already on 103 with only two men out.
"Mr. Gold, you have a phone call," he secretary said.
"Tell them I'm busy!" William snapped.
"It's M."
"Patch her though, patch her though," William said quickly and picked up the phone.
"William," Catherine said.
"Ah M, how good to hear from you," William said nicely. He was a bit like Basil Fawlty because he couldn't care about anyone he saw lower then him but would kiss their ass if they were higher then him.
"Clam it William!" she snapped. "We have a situation in Premier and I need an agent to run an operation. So I want you to get the next flight to Emerald."
"First class?"
"I don't care if it's a private plane or a cargo jet," Catherine answered. "Now tell your deputy he is in control and call the airport for the next flight here."
Alcomo Flats, Divan, Premier. Same Day. 10:07 GMT -6.
"Well sir," a doctor (a male lizard) was saying to Robotnik and Mysico whiles walking to a medical room. "This is a miracle, you got to see it."
"Can't you just tell us what happened?" Mysico asked.
"It'll be better to show you," the doctor answered.
All three men went into a room.
"CHRIST!!!!" Mysico yelled.
Sitting in a chair was a 29-year-old jaguar glowing bright green with black sunglasses. He was wearing a hospital grown.
"What happened to you?" Robotnik asked.
"My men attacked me when we were going toward the briefing centre," the jaguar answered. "I regained consciousness just as the bomb went off; explains the sunglasses."
"But you should be dead," Mysico said.
"I don't know how I survived either," the jaguar answered.
"What is your name?" Robotnik asked.
"Weston McAlpine," he answered.
"You wouldn't mind if I got my senior scientists ran some test on you?" Robotnik asked.
"With pleasure," Weston answered. "I want to know what happened as well."