A.N: Throughout this story, there are real world organizations and pieces of technology that are mentioned. I do not own the rights to any of them. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.
In the dead of night, a man slept uneasily in his home. His dreams were cut short by the loud ringing of a telephone. He sat up in his bed and looked around the dark bedroom. His gaze moved to the bright screen of a cell phone, indicating that he was being called by "Work". He picked up the phone and answered.
"Hello?" He asked.
"Good morning, Mister Moore. We have just recently acquired-" the voice on the other line started before being cut off.
"Alright; why in the hell are you calling me so damn early? It's-" Moore looked at the phone's screen, checking the time, before placing it back near his ear. "Three in the morning. What's so important that you need to call me at this ungodly hour?"
"Well, Mister Moore, if you would let me finish, we have just recently acquired a contract from a company known as Hashimoto Technologies. Have you heard of the Ginza incident in Japan?"
"Yeah. That gate to another dimension or something, right?"
"Indeed, Mister Moore. The Japanese government has signed an agreement with Hashimoto Technologies to slowly integrate beneficial technology into the Special Region. Our company has been given the pleasure of providing protection for the representative. Travel preparations have been arranged for you, and you are to meet with the operation director at our headquarters outside Paris."
"Alright. I'll be there immediately. Goodbye."
He hung up, pulled the covers over himself, and went back to sleep.
It was breakfast time in the Moore household, and a conversation was taking place in the kitchen.
"Do you think there'll be dragons there?" A young girl asked Moore, anxiousness present in her voice.
She was young, probably around eight or so. She had green eyes like Moore, but her hair was a deep brown.
"I'd say so. If I can, I'll try to bring you back a tooth or something. One condition, though: you have to be good for Nana while I'm gone. If I hear about even one problem, you can just forget it." Moore replied, not looking up from the range. The eggs were almost finished.
"Bring me back a sword! I can bring it to show and tell and Bobby'll be so jealous!"
"Yeah. Not gonna happen. Just be good for Nana and I'll see what I can do. Alright, Mel?" He asked.
He plated the eggs and set them on the table.
"Alright." Her eyes lowered in a defeated expression. "When do you think you'll be back? You were gone for a while last time."
Mel picked at her eggs with her fork.
"Don't play with your food." He scolded. "I don't know when I'll be back, but I'll call you before I'm gone, alright? I'm going to have to leave soon. Think you'll be fine for a few hours until Nana gets here?" He asked.
She nodded in response. He tousled her hair, finished his breakfast, and went upstairs to finish packing. He walked into the bathroom and prepared to shave. He looked into the mirror. He was white, with short blonde hair and brown eyes. He looked to be around his mid to late thirties, with an athletic build. Mel was waiting for him near the front door. He knelt down and gave her a hug.
"I love you, daddy." She said. She hugged him tighter.
"I love you too. Tell Nana I said hello, alright?" He replied. He planted a kiss on her forehead, then got up, flashed her a smile, opened the door and left for the airport.
Moore climbed out of the taxi, walked to the trunk and collected his bag. The driver bid him au revoir, and he replied in turn. This was the place. The building wasn't too old, maybe a decade or so, and had an ultra-modern feel from its architecture and design. Near the entrance, a large sign read "Bellerose Internationale". Multiple cars were parked in the parking lot adjoining the building. Most of them belonged to big name news companies. He walked to the entrance and activated the intercom.
"Bonjour? Astu un rendezvous?" The receptionist asked.
"Hello? I don't speak french. Do you know English?" Moore asked.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No. I'm here for the next contract. Nathan Moore?"
"Yes, Mister Moore, I'll let you in." The intercom buzzed, indicating that the door was unlocked. Moore pushed it open. The interior was just as ultra-modern as the exterior. The receptionist was a young woman, probably in her mid to late twenties.
"Go to the briefing room. Director Bellerose should be there. You'll need this name tag." She said, placing a name tag on top of the desk without looking up from her computer. Moore rolled his eyes and walked down the hallway.
After a short walk, he reached a room with double doors. On the wall was a small nameplate that read "Briefing room" in multiple languages. He pushed open the doors and entered. The room was large, with multiple rows of chairs facing a raised dais with a podium. He looked around the room and saw news teams and other contractors like himself. He spotted his friends. He walked over and joined them.
"Afternoon, Smoke. How're you doing?" Asked one of them, his accent giving away his British heritage. He was young. Probably twenty-six or so, with short brown hair and green eyes. He looked to have recently shaved. His name tag read "Daniel Abrams".
"How's Melissa?" Asked another. He looked to be Hispanic, but with an american accent. Probably around the southwest. He looked older than Abrams, even older than Moore. Maybe in his late thirties to his early forties. His name tag read "Manuel Santiago".
"She's fine." He sat down. "So who did we outbid for this? Blackwater? Erinys?"
"We outbid all of them. Bellerose really thinks we can get some kind of indefinite deal with Japan for protecting civilian VIPs. Doesn't think the JSDF can handle it while also protecting their own borders. Fucking barmy bastard." Abrams replied.
"Both of you be quiet. The Director is going to speak." Santiago interjected.
The room got quiet as someone walked onto the dais. An older man, with graying hair and piercing blue eyes, walked behind the podium and looked around the room. He cleared his throat and began to speak. His voice was gravelly, with an obvious french accent.
"Ladies and gentlemen: we are on the precipice of Bellerose Internationals' greatest achievement to date. I have recently finished speaking with the CEO and board of directors of Hashimoto Technologies and the Prime Minister of Japan, and we have been given the honor of being the first non-JSDF military force to set foot within the Special Region." He said, garnering a few murmurs from the crowd. The Director waited until the murmuring stopped to continue.
"As of now, we are mustering our top contractors to be a part of this operation. We are sending Japan the best that Bellerose International has to offer. The representative will be accompanied by an armed escort made up of Bellerose Internationals' most elite security contractors, along with support staff to aid the Japanese Government where needed. Before we undertake this monumental feat, my forces will be trained and screened accordingly. I will now answer any questions related to the operation." He concluded.
Moore felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw that Santiago had tapped him on the shoulder. Abrams speaking with some of the other contractors there. They had all grouped up and were leaving through one of the exits. Santiago was waiting for Moore to turn his gaze back to him before speaking.
"Hey. We're going to the rec room. Gonna try to make sense of this. You coming?" Santiago asked.
Moore nodded in agreement. He got up and joined the group as they went to the rec room. The rec room was rather large, with multiple tables, couches and a bar stocked with many kinds of alcohol. Moore, Abrams, and a handful of other contractors sat at the bar, while Santiago poured drinks for the group. Others were spread throughout the room, playing cards, pool, or just watching television.
"Training? Screening? What's all that for? We've never needed it before!" Abrams said.
"That's what Bellerose referred to it as. It's not that. We're getting the same thing we normally get: a course on language and customs, and a physical and psych exam before we go. It's just so people don't try to call us out for being PMCs." Santiago explained, pouring a glass of absinthe for one of the contractors. An Israeli man, with short brown hair and a burn mark on the side of his face.
"It'll probably be a month or so somewhere close to the gate, and then we'll get our gear, meet the VIP and go in." The contractor added, before taking a swig of his drink. The others nodded in agreement.
"What do you think we'll be given? As far as I know, there aren't any guns in the Special Region that don't belong to the JSDF. We can't just buy guns there this time." Abrams asked, finishing his glass of whiskey.
"The quartermaster said we're getting a different kit than what we're used to. Little birds, APCs, guns that fire the same calibers as the JSDF, and two black hawks. We won't have to worry about buying ammo or bringing it ourselves. I believe he said AK-12's and P226's." Santiago explained.
Some time later, Bellerose entered the room, an assistant followed him, pushing a small cart laden with manila folders.
"May I have your attention please? Everyone!" His voice resounded through the room. Everyone turned to him. He sat down at one of the tables as everyone came over to hear what he had to say. When they were situated, he began speaking to them.
"Tomorrow, you're all going to be loaded onto our C-130 for the trip to Japan. You will land at Haneda Airport, offload your gear and head for a residential area located near the gate. There, you that are not fluent in Japanese will take language classes, along with an introductory course on the language of the Special Region. That will take one month. After that, you are to collect your gear and accompany an attachment of JSDF forces into the Special Region. Allard, would you please pass out the briefings?" He said.
The assistant began passing out the manila folders to each of the contractors. They began reading through them while listening to Bellerose.
"Moore, Abrams, Santiago, Coughlin and Cohen. You're the armed escort for the representative. If need be, there will be auxiliary teams on standby in case one of you are injured or killed. The rest of you will stay at Alnus Hill, as it is called, and provide extra support and security for the JSDF. The payout will be one-thousand a day for three months, totaling in the equivalent of ninety-two thousand United States dollars. Hashimoto, along with the Japanese government, have payed well for our services. In those dossiers you will find everything you will need to know for your operations within the Special Region. None of you fail me. I only expect the best from you all." He finished his speech, stood up, and left the room, followed by the assistant.
The contractors looked at each other with both worried and intrigued faces, before one of them raised their voice.
"This is gonna be fuckin' weird."
Moore stared at the little spinning dot on the computer screen. He wondered if maybe they were asleep. He called Nana and told her about this, so he was sure they weren't asleep. Was something wrong? No. There can't be anything wrong. They live in a nice neighborhood. His thoughts were cut short by the screen coming to life. He could see himself in the corner of the screen, but almost all of it was taken up by Melissa and his mother. Melissa looked so happy to see him, and he could tell his mother was happy seeing her happy.
"Hey Daddy! I really miss you! Are you almost finished with your thing? Bobby doesn't think you'll bring me back a sword but I told him you will! Pleeeeeeeease?" Melissa asked.
"I've got a few more months and I think I'll be finished. It might be extended if the important people think they still need us. I'll try to be home as soon as possible, alright? I miss you too. I love you, you know that right?" He responded.
Over the next hour or so, they caught up with what he missed, Moore sat intently, listening to everything Melissa told him, eventually, she had to go to sleep, and Nana sent her up to bed. Before the call ended, she spoke to him.
"You really need to stop with all this. You don't even know how dangerous this place is. Melissa needs you, and if you can't be there for her, you're no better than her mother." She said, the brutal honesty cutting through him like a knife.
"I know. This is my last job, then I'll retire. I'll make enough from this to make sure she won't have to worry about anything for a long time. I'm doing this for her, you know." He responded in a sullen tone, not looking her in the eye.
"That's what you said four years ago. I'll see you when you come back. Hopefully."
The call ended, and Moore was alone.
Moore and his team stepped out of their Humvee. They walked out of the way of the other contractors and began stretching. They'd spent a long time cooped up in that thing, and they wanted to stretch their legs a bit before they had to get back in. During the trip, he got to know the other two members of his unit. They were Rory Coughlin and Danila Cohen. Rory was even younger than Abrams, being twenty-five. His hair was brown and short, and it complimented his green eyes. Like Abrams, he was from the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland to be exact. He'd been a part of some operations with Abrams when they were deployed to Afghanistan, and through his recommendation was given a chance to join Bellerose. Cohen on the other hand was twenty-nine. He was from Israel, and was originally part of the IDF. When he left the service, he took up a job with Bellerose hoping to escape the strife within his country. As it turned out, he was the Israeli that was at the bar with him. There were a considerable amount of contractors within the security division of Bellerose International, so Moore hadn't met all of them, and he definitely hadn't met Cohen before. He'd remember someone like him, that was for sure.
"Alright! Everyone back in! We've got twenty minutes before we go through the gate. Stash your crap and get ready!" He shouted. His team did as they were told. He got back in the passenger seat and waited for Abrams to get back behind the driver seat.
"Ow ow ow. Pulled a shoulder muscle. Fuck shit damn it hurts! Embarking in a moment Smoke!" Abrams replied from outside the Humvee. A moment later, the Humvee was full again. Anything that wasn't one of his teammates was either something that needed to be taken in, or something one of them wanted to take in. Everyone had a camera with them, save for Cohen. To say it was cramped was an understatement. In front and behind them were trucks carrying supplies, vehicles, or other troops. While they waited for the signal to move, he looked at some of the passing JSDF. At first glance, they looked disciplined. Maybe this was their first time going into a real combat zone. Hopefully they'll never see combat. He shook the thought out of his mind and focused on his team.
Abrams was sitting in the driver's seat, his face expressing boredom. Coughlin was toying with his phone, Santiago was reading the language guide they were all given, and Cohen was watching the passing soldiers. He guessed they were as ready as they'd ever be.
"Anyone think they'll see something weird over there? Like fish people or something?" Moore asked, trying to start conversation.
"It said in the dossier that there are confirmed sightings of dragons, goblins, ogres, canine people, feline people, rabbit peop-" Santiago cut himself off. He closed the book, reached into his pack and pulled out the dossier again, skimming over it. "Rabbit people?"
"Doc, it said that there were rabbit people. 'Warrior Bunnies' or something like that. Almost all female. Maybe you'll find a new wife there, Smoke?" Abrams said, lightly poking Moore in the ribs with his elbow. Moore slapped it away.
"Not getting married again. You know that." Moore replied in an annoyed tone.
"Think there'll be Minotaur's there? That'd be something to write to the hunters club about." Coughlin added.
"Maybe. Just worry about getting the job done. Alright Coughlin?" Cohen responded in an icy tone. He turned his head back to the window. With that, the conversation ground to a halt.
The time until they were given the go-ahead was passed in silence. Slowly, the vehicles started moving forward, and Moore's Humvee followed suit. He couldn't see the dome encircling the gate opening, but he could certainly hear it. Eventually they reached the gate itself. The portal was pitch black. Coughlin reached for his rosary and recited the lord's prayer under his breath. Cohen stared out into the black sea of infinity. Santiago turned on his flashlight and continued to read the dossier. Abrams focused on the vehicle in front of them. Looking out into the darkness, Moore thought to himself.
How the hell could the Ginza invaders pass through here? This is terrifying!
After what felt like an eternity, they finally saw daylight again. They left the darkness of that portal behind them and were pleased to see a familiar sight. They were directed to the motor pool, where they parked and exited their Humvee, they unloaded anything important and took it with them, then they loaded everything else onto a dolly, played rock, paper, scissors to see who would push it, with Cohen being the loser, and left to find their barracks. While doing so, they were able to take in their surroundings. This was less like the FOB it was said to be and more like a damn fortress.
"This is gonna be fuckin' weird." Moore said, dumbfounded. His team nodded in agreement.