This is the second story of Scorpia Rising. It is also about Tony and like the name already says, about Scorpia and its rise...for the fifth (?) time. Perhaps, they will succeed one day. We'll see.
The following story is rated M within a reason. More reason than the last story. I tried to write realistic.
Genre: Crime, but in the first chapter it can also be described with Horror/ Angst/ Apocalypse ;)
I do not own anything. This story is fictional. Of course, I used some background facts.
Again, it's an NCIS FanFic but also uses the crime organization Scorpia as villain. Scorpia is part of the Alex Rider book series. It is not necessary for this story to have read the Alex Rider books because I only use Scorpia as a new foe for Gibbs and his team (especially Tony).
(For better reading you can make the Internet window smaller and the text will adapt to it. I just say that because I don't want to start a new line for each sentence.)
Chapter 1
Months have passed since the NCIS team has heard from the organization called Scorpia or any activity of the three ex-members who were still on the run: Dr. Medici, the former leader of Scorpia, Caroline Montebello, a head member and her three years younger sister Katarina who actually should be recruited to Scorpia, too.
It has gotten colder again, not that it ever would be warm in Washington. Tony walked along the street, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He had time. He needed to be in office in twenty minutes so he stopped in front of the big plasma screen on the street.
A lot of people stood gathering there because it showed the events of 9/11. This was past now, exactly eleven years ago. Such a long time, Tony thought and emptied his coffee. He threw it to the bin and walked on through Washington DC.
He was walking along Constitution Ave and saw the queues outside of the National Museums of American and of Natural History. He remembered when he had visited them once with his dad. He had never liked history, especially not history classes in school.
He looked up when he heard the noise of planes coming nearer. Washington had an airport but it was unusual to hear it so near because there was a no-fly zone above of the White house. He looked at his watch. It was seven past nine. Was this a joke?
The plane was coming nearer. It flew far too low for a usual passenger flight although it was a usual big machine used for usual flights. Tony looked around. All people seem to have stopped and looked up.
The plane came nearer and flew above them. Tony turned around, just in time to see, that the plane also turned around sharply and came back. To see to it that it was such a big machine, it turned very sharply.
A lot of people already filmed the spectacle. It was nearly slow-motion when the plane came back. Then it turned sharply left and flew nearly in a 45 degrees angel toward the National Museum of American History. Tony who stood on the other side of the street felt the earth trembling when the plane hit the roof and the stone wall at once. Tony screamed as did most people around.
He watched the plane crashing through the roof top and falling down. He didn't think but turned around and ran as fast as he could down the street not noticing the Ronald Reagan Building and International Trade Center to his left.
He just ran. He heard people screaming. He heard explosions. He heard something cracking down, he didn't need to turn back to know the museum collapsing. The plane was nearly exactly as long as the museum and now fully was there. It was not moving any more since it has already hit the ground.
It was burning, the whole building stood in flames. People were burning, running out of the building but falling down the steps and hitting the ground, not moving anymore. People ran away, the earth trembled as if it would be opening soon and swallowing its inhabitants up. People yelled in pain and in fear. And they yelled in disbelief.
Tony ran and didn't stop. It felt like the end of the world. Debris and rubble was falling of the sky and forced him to cough. He was soon covered in dirt as the whole street was. It looked as if it had all fallen out of the sky. Tony felt safe enough to look back.
He stopped and turned around.
He was standing in front of the metro station and had a look on the angle of the Museum of American History. Or what was left from it. He looked at the flames that licked high in the air. He saw the black fume crawling up the sky and hiding the sun. He saw people running away, injured, covered in dust and debris, bleeding, dying. Tony had problems to take breath. He coughed hard. It felt like the end of the world here. He saw people running past him, screaming at him, telling him to turn around and run for it. People screamed something of World War III.
Tony didn't listen. It was so calm. Soundless, nothing to hear. The scream of the people, the burning building and the falling of men and rubble sounded so away. It was silent. Tony saw the people moving in slow-motion. He looked around.
He saw back.
There were children running, screaming. It seemed as if the kindergarten has made a day journey to the Museum and now it was a journey to the end of the world.
The end of the world as we know, Tony thought.
He remembered so many apocalyptic films. This was so different. No happy end but bad reality. Armageddon, 2012, The Day the Earth stood still…All fiction. It had become true and sad reality now. Tony couldn't believe it. He screamed, too, as he saw a little five year old burning to ashes about one hundred meters away. Tony yelled. He wanted to run back and help people.
He had this inner person in him who wanted to run back. He imagined people inside the building. And inside the plane. He felt when someone grabbed his arms and pulled him away. A man was standing beside him, screaming at him that he should run. Tony looked into the man's face, he was about fifty, short grey hair and wore a suit. Tony didn't understand what he shouted at him and he didn't care.
He followed him running away.
He heard sirens. Police is coming, Tony thought. But that wouldn't bring anything it was too late. Nothing to save, nobody to arrest. Firemen are coming, Tony thought. They could help and after the attacks eleven years ago they were cleverer and maybe they were able to rescue more men's life.
But on the other side the planes have hit the upper floors of World Trade Centers so that on the lower floors people could escape.
Here, the plane was nearly as big as the museum itself and it has destroyed it completely.
It was now half past ten and at seven past nine, a lot of people have wanted inside the museum. And since the museum had opened at eight this morning, because of an special exhibition about what has happened exactly eleven years ago, there have been a very lot of innocent people been inside and outside waiting.
Tony looked aside. He saw the Post Office. People of all buildings were standing outside and looking at the end of the world. People ran past them, just wanting to flee. But there was nowhere you can flee from when the world is falling down.
Police men and fire fighters ran to the building. Ambulances were arriving. First aiders were running toward the museum.
A man in a white uniform ran toward him. He shouted something Tony didn't understand. The man pulled him toward an ambulance car. 'I don't need help. I'm fine', Tony screamed but the man just pointed at his lower body. His complete belly was red. His shirt was red and red. As if someone had emptied two ketchup bottles on it. Tony was astonished. He hadn't noticed he'd been injured. It must have happened when all this debris had flown around. Or when he had fallen to the ground. He had been in such pain and hurry that he hadn't noticed at all.
He silently followed the doctor.
He was put inside the ambulance and sit down. The man bent over him and examined the wound. Tony heard shouting and screaming from police men, fire fighters, doctors. They all wanted to help and tried to organize themselves. 'Help the others. I'm not that badly injured', Tony moaned. He yelled when the doctor tried to stop the bleeding.
'Huge blood loss', were the only words he understood. 'No', he screamed and wanted to stand up. He went out of the ambulance. He was tumbling and the doctor grabbed him on one side and wanted to pull him back into the car.
Tony didn't resist.
But on half way they both stopped.
Everybody seemed to stop. It seemed as if everything has stopped. Even the rubble and shutter falling from the sky. Everybody looked up when they heard another noise. The noise of another plane. The first plane Tony saw was a green fighter jet with the letters 'US military' on it. Then there were more of them. They circled around the museums.
They are a bit too late, Tony thought.
But then he heard a louder noise.
People stood there, nobody said a word, everybody was gazing up, looking and staring into the sky. Another big passenger's airplane neared. The fighting jets got in a V-form. Ready to destroy the airplane when necessary.
But suddenly the big airplane made a sharp turning to the left.
It vanished out of the sight of Tony. He just saw the fighter jets flying after it.
Only a few seconds later there was a bright lightening ball in the sky. Tony and the doctor stumbled backward to see more. A very light explosion was to be seen. It was loud and people tried to protect their ears.
The fighting jets have shot at the big plane. But it has needed more to take it down. The automatic missile defense had activated and shot exactly seven tiny rockets with huge blasting power toward the plane.
They didn't miss their target.
Tony felt the earth trembling again. He saw people running away from what had happened only about hundred meters away. Tony fell down, he felt weak. The doctor kneed down.
'I'm fine', Tony tried to stand up.
The last words he understood were 'huge blood loss', then it all went black. His sight got smaller, turned pixelized and black. Even seconds before that the sound went down. He didn't hear anything.
He lost consciousness.
Please review this story. And tell me if I should continue this second part of 'Scorpia Rising'.
I do not own anything.
