Secrets and Lies

Prologue – Part Two

Suppressing a yawn, Ron glanced out of the window while pretending to listen to the base commander who was explaining the enhanced security that he had put into place following reports of Global Justice movements in the area. He was already aware that these reports were almost certainly false – GJ infiltrators into the Spanish peninsula would have to approach from the sea and his father's floating listening devices would pick up any unusual activity in that direction. The base commander was trying to impress Gemini's son with his efficiency in the hope of preferment when Ron reported back to WWEE headquarters. Still, it was good to see that – even this far from the center – there was no lack of urgency about perimeter defenses. He had had to upbraid more than one local commander in the past for neglecting basic security. Sloppy security had nearly cost the Wielded Weapon the liberation of Japan the previous year.

The bullet-proof window was next to the door, and looking out he could see nothing but rolling hills. He frowned. Building a camp in a location that could be overlooked by an enemy with a higher vantage point was textbook poor tactics. He made a mental note to check if other bases had been as poorly positioned when he returned to Moscow.

Looking back at the other occupants of the room, he sighed inwardly and prepared to give his full attention to the remainder of the meeting. While he was not much interested in base security measures, he was keen to understand the regional security situation for the Atlantic front of the Wielded Weapon for the Elimination of Evil. Although he was aware that the first incursion into enemy territory was planned for the Bering Straits, a mere 82 kilometers in width, he also knew that his father was considering a second front while the Global Jokers were distracted and that he, Ron, would play a crucial role in that attack. The main reason for his tour of the western outposts of WWEE influence was to assess the strategic readiness of the alliance to launch a surprise attack from Western Europe. His history told him that the other option of an invasion of the Western Hemisphere from Japan would mean a long and hard-fought battle through the Pacific archipelagos. Names like Guadalcanal and Midway were a reminder that liberating the world from the evil grip of Global Injustice would not be a cakewalk.

Or wouldn't be if Ron Director wasn't involved.

That liberation was long overdue. The land bridge between Asia and North America was an obvious route and would undoubtedly be heavily defended. The Wielded Weapon were gambling that no-one would suspect an attack across thousands of miles of ocean. But then, no-one knew of Ron's unique talents, and the time was approaching when he would play the role he was destined for.

"Commander," he interrupted the speaker. "Yes, general?" replied the base commander.

"Tell me how you maintain your supply lines to this base?"

The seasoned officer looked at the youth. How was someone who could not have been more than 21 years old be a general in the WWEE army? Surely Gemini was not foolish enough to over-promote a callow youth just because he was his son? And yet, he had heard stories of the successes that were attributed to this young man. The taking of Tokyo with a daring raid that eviscerated the GJ high command before the attack proper. The subsequent capture of the previously-unknown outpost of resistance called Yamanouchi, even though the occupants had fled before they could be taken, unwilling to take sides. The sinking of the flagships of the GJ Australian fleet while still in harbor at Sydney, reminiscent of the Pearl Harbor attack eighty years earlier. Appearances were clearly deceptive – this man with the face of a child was a force to be reckoned with.

The commander passed around files to the men sitting around the table and drew their attention to the logistics reports. Ron scanned the documents and found himself impressed. The Spanish bases were connected by a network of regular convoys delivering stores including weaponry and ammunition. Although the occasional convoy was attacked by partisans, these attacks were few and far between. Disproportionate retribution followed any such attack. While Gemini regretted the excessive use of force against the civilian population, WWEE understood that the populace often failed to recognize where their true interests lay. Interfering with the Wielded Weapon was the road that would ultimately lead to GJ domination. Malcontents and vagabonds needed to be suppressed by the people themselves. Reports of atrocities against civilians in the former United States were a constant reminder to Ron and his fellow soldiers of the righteousness of their cause.

At last the meeting ended and as he gathered his papers into his briefcase, his personal bodyguard arrayed themselves around him. He found the close security irksome but humored his father who was somewhat paranoid about random attacks. Only his mentor knew how little he needed the protection and Ron was sworn to secrecy, even from his father, for now. The time was not yet ripe to reveal all.

As the door opened, and bright sun poured into the room, he stood up to leave. His cohort escorted him through the door and he turned to thank one of the guards who had been diligently securing the room while standing in full battledress in the hot Iberian sun.

Suddenly what he thought of as his "spider sense" drew his head round, to focus on the featureless hill on front of him. Although nothing was visible to the naked eye, he was immediately focused on the long grass close to the top of the hill. A warning flashed in front of his eyes, which unseen by his companions had changed color from brown to blue, and he stared at a fixed point, concentrating his mind on the hidden threat and sending out a pulse of energy to neutralize it. The perimeter patrols would find a dead body with no visible signs of injury lying next to his sniper rifle, but which a post-mortem (if one were held) would reveal that his brain had been fried.

To his surprise, he could still feel the presence of the hidden soldier. Even more surprising, his MMP was still flashing a warning of imminent peril. Instinctively he ducked, instants before the bullet intended for his head plowed into the stonework of the building from which he had just emerged.

He stood up straight and stared fixedly at the direction from which the bullet had traveled. Now he could see the glint of sunlight off a sniperscope. He could feel the confusion of his assailant, but little else, except a hint of femininity. He smiled in her direction before he was pulled away by his companions to a place of safety. The action was unnecessary. He had recognized the impact of the bullet as coming from a single-shot rifle. No second shot would be forthcoming.

He directed the base defenders to apprehend the would-be assassin but the order was half-hearted. Without doubt she had an escape route and would already by now be over the ridge and out of sight to the pursuing troops who were pouring out of the gate.

Who was the sniper? No-one had ever been able to conceal their thoughts from him before, let alone survive a death pulse.

He determined to find out more about this woman, or girl. Their next encounter would be her last.