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Oh and guess what? More FAX! So enjoy!
Wings
Chapter Ten: The Most Wanted Man on Earth
All across the world, the same video plays over and over again. The large screens placed every couple of blocks on every street in every city on earth has the exact same images replaying themselves. The same words, only different anchormen or women along with other people voicing their opinions on the man named Fang.
The dark figure has already made headlines only hours after the event actually occurred. He was the one who forced Governor Anne Walker of the North American Region to surrender and pullback all Germanian soldiers from the massacre at Chesapeake Bay in Virginia.
People stand out in front of these screens, still captivated by the man who saved thousands of innocent lives. Some are turned off by the acts, not wanting to cheer on a terrorist. The others, though in secret, are hoping to hear more of this man's victories towards peace between Germania and the people considered non-citizens.
Max flips through a few more news stations as she lounges on Fang's bed in her usual attire of one if his nice shirts as her clothes are being washed. Channel after channel is the same thing, Fang this, Fang that. Who is Fang? What does he want? What is his plan? Where did he come from? What about the rebels? Will they be following this man?
The girl laughs a little, "I see you're a big star now. Don't let the fame get to you."
"And what fame would that be? Fang's on everyone's mind, not Nick," said person says as he finishes getting dressed in his closet for school. He pulls on his last sock and shoe before stepping out to see Max eating yet another cookie, "You're going to get fat if you keep eating just those," he points.
The girl rolls her eyes, "I've been the exact same size since I became immortal, I am just as strong as I was then," she takes another bite, breathing in slowly as she takes in each morsel of chocolaty goodness. She finishes the cookie and rolls off the bed, landing lightly on her feet, "Now, how go the rebels? Have they called at all?"
The boy shakes his head, fixing his long black bangs and swiping them to the side, "No but I'm sure they want to stay low for a little while; just as I am doing."
"Why?"
"So everyone gets comfortable. When I make my move, no one will see it coming," Fang smirks before grabbing his backpack
Max nods, "That's good. I see I made the right decision choosing to give you the power of the angel instead of your friend."
A sharp pain shoots through Fang's body, "James." He hadn't spoken to James in a few days. He has to be fed up with Nick by now. He promised his lifelong friend he'd explain everything. Is now the time to do it? Or should he wait a few more days?
Max snaps her fingers, "Oh that's his name! Well anyway, we have business to take care of once your school lets out so be sure to come back here and change into your best Fang, understand?"
He nods, "Best Fang got it." He walks out the door, just before closing it softly as to not disturb whatever Angel and Gazzy are watching on TV before saying goodbye and heading off for school. He knows he doesn't have to worry too much about Max. She knows she can't leave his room while Ella and his younger siblings are still home. She also hasn't been caught once at his school.
"Nick, hey! Hey, Nick, wait up!" A familiar voice yells from about fifty feet behind said person.
He stops and looks over his shoulder to see the lanky, strawberry blonde, pale eyed boy he was just talking about minutes ago running up to him. He nods his head, which in guy world means "hey".
"Dude where have you been these past few days," James asks once reaching his best friend.
"Busy," Nick says simply.
"Taking care of the twins and playing illegal poker I presume?" He asks almost knowingly.
Nick smirks, "You caught me."
James pats him on the back, "It's cool man, as long as you give yourself a break every once in a while. I've been busy too."
"Oh yeah," the dark haired teen raises a caterpillar eyebrow.
He nods, "Yup, I've been so busy watching the news lately and working on my bombs. Can you believe this Fang guy everyone has been talking about? He just pops out of nowhere and almost kills the Governor!"
Nick looks at his friend, "Almost?"
"Well he actually shot one person, but it wasn't a governor or anything," James finishes.
He looks around before asking, "Who?"
"Umm," James rubs the back of his head, the sign he's thinking, before finally remembering, "Oh I think his name is…Ari Batchelder or something. You know, the General that came to our school last week. How ironic huh?" He laughs.
Nick doesn't even hear his friend's contagious laughter as he stops in his tracks. I…I shot Ari Batchelder? But…why was he even there? If it wasn't already bad enough that he was on my back about last week, now I…I…
"He didn't die though, just screwed up his shoulder a bit," James clarifies until notices Nick not next to him. He spins on his heal, "Nick? What's wrong?"
The boy shakes his head, trying to snap out of it, "It's…it's nothing."
Suddenly the bell rings for class to begin. The boys rush to their first class of the day. Nick walks into English barely a second off from being counted late. He doesn't need to be questioned by the principle again. Like he told Max, he needs to start laying low a bit. Settle his priorities. School and Fang, they're two separate things and they need to stay that way.
"Glad you could make it, Nick Martinez," his English teacher says from her desk as he takes his seat.
Once class starts, it surprisingly goes smoothly. Nick gets no interruptions from Max or his cell phone. Not even any dirty or suspicious looks from Maya. The day goes by without any knicks in the usual schedule, except for Nick's history class. Instead of learning about the past, they watch the news for half of the class. The other half was the teacher lecturing them on how "this moment is history".
For more than an hour, all Nick heard about was Fang. All he saw was Fang – himself – giving that speech at the Governor's Ball. Picture after picture scrolled over the screen of him wearing those notorious shades and hat that cover most of his face.
Thankfully, no one even made the connection between Fang and Nick, their fellow classmate who sits right next to them every day. Nick even bets no one will ever think of the two at the same time. Their personas are just too different.
Nick is a silent, straight A student who lives with his siblings in a nice house. He hangs out with James Griffiths, one of the nicest and most fun loving kids anyone could ever meet. Nick is the older brother of the cutest twins anyone has ever seen, so he has been told.
Fang is a mysterious terrorist who is military savvy with great charisma and leader qualities. He won at the Chesapeake Bay massacre and had the chance to kill the North American governor Anne Walker. Nothing much is known about him yet people are going crazy over him. Especially non-Germanians; they see him as hope. A peace maker who will save them all, even though he's made one public announcement, they just have a gut feeling.
Max is right, maybe I shouldn't let this get to my head…Nick thinks to himself as he walks home. His backpack is suspended from his shoulder and his clothes wrinkled slightly from the long day at school. Now he has to change from Nick to Fang, his alter ego.
He walks into his room to see Max already waiting for him as she sits on the corner of his bed. She's wearing what looks to be Nick's old pair of black pants, only these were made into shorts. He narrows his eyes, "Are those my pants?"
She smirks, "You have plenty others." She looks down at her new shorts and smiles, "I like these. Though I am usually not one to cling to black, it's a nice color and we need to start looking like a team. I doubt you'd wear white so," she motions to her black ensemble, consisting of the shorts and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, "black it is."
Nick sighs before heading to his closet and grabbing an old backpack on the top shelf backed up in the corner. He unzips it and takes out his "Fang clothes". Quickly he dresses into the black cargo pants and the black under amour shirt Max stole from the soldier at North Adams right before they took the Gozen.
Max smiles once Nick steps out of the closet as Fang once again.
"So what are we doing tonight? I thought I said I wanted to stay low for a while," he says slightly tired as he puts on his Gottman hat and aviators.
"We have a meeting with Ratchet and his rebels tonight."
"He couldn't just call me because…" Fang starts to ask.
"Do you want to be a leader or not, Fang?" Max asks almost angry.
The two stare at each other for a little while before Fang answers coolly, "Would I be standing here right now with you if I didn't? Would I have risked my life as many times as I have done so already if I didn't?"
Max smirks, "Good answer."
"I would like to thank all of you who helped participate in yesterday's events. I couldn't have done it without you," Fang announces to the people in the basement hide out. "I wish I could give you more to show my gratitude-"
"Don't worry about it, bro," Ratchet, the leader of the rebellion group hiding out in Downtown Virginia, says as he pats Fang on the shoulder, "All I worried about was if we were going to get caught and we didn't."
Fang smiles and nods, "Thank you, Ratchet."
"Don't mention it," he says before getting cut off by Maya, "and we have a little favor to ask you actually."
Max and Fang glance at each other before asking them to go on.
Ratchet looks to Maya with an angry look. She rolls it off and continues, "Ever since you came around, we have never been this successful. With your brain behind out brawns we've been able to become one of the strongest rebellion groups in the region. It's practically child play out there now. So we would like to ask that you join us…lead us."
Fang looks from Maya and the faces filled with want and hope to the Ratchet, the leader of the rebels who seems to be having a hard time with this. As a matter of fact, he seems angry by the fact that his comrades want Fang instead of him to lead them.
"I'm flattered," he starts, "but I'll only accept this offer if Ratchet becomes my second in command."
He looks shocked at this ultimatum, "But why?"
"Because," Fang starts, "you alone have the best knowledge of who is capable of what. You've known some of these people for I'm guessing years. You can help direct me in choosing tactics and who to send them by. You're very valuable to them and to me."
"Are you sure joining us is a good idea? You are the most wanted man on the planet after your little stunt yesterday," Ratchet points out as he motions to the TV. It's on one of the less popular news stations at the moment showcasing the video Fang had starred in, bringing himself public to all who were watching.
"Yes, I'm sure of it." He smirks, "Besides, I thought we already were considering we're comrades."
"Breaking news," the TV suddenly announces. The channel was changed to a more up to date news station and the anchor woman was talking over live video footage. "Today marks a great day in history as the emperor's son comes out publicly. To many this comes to a surprise because no one even knew he existed except for the select few who have been watching and caring for him over the past seventeen years."
The clip zooms in from the front of the Germania palace with crowds all around to one person standing at the top of the steps from the large wooden doorway. There stands a boy with honey nut blonde hair, Caribbean blue eyes, and a deep tan wearing what looks to Fang as North Adam High School's uniform, only without a tie or cardigan to show the school colors.
Fang watches in complete shock as Dylan Gunther-Hagen, his half brother, waves to the people as he himself becomes public.
"To fill in any new viewers at the moment we are now watching a historic day as Hans Gunther-Hagen's son Dylan comes out publicly that he is indeed next in line for the throne. Though just at a mere age of seventeen he looks like a fine leader for our future generations." The anchorwoman smiles and blushes once the camera comes back on her. She clears her throat and looks down at her papers again before speaking, "These past few days have been very eventful what with the terrorist known as Fang coming public as well as the long awaited prince doing the same the very next day-"
"What do you think you are doing?"
"What else, father? I'm doing what's been expected of me from the day I was born."
"I thought you didn't want to be my successor?"
Dylan shakes his blonde head of hair as he adjusts in the large royal seat located at the end of the big conference room. The boy's school clothes clash with the deep purple fabric woven cushions of the tall seat, making the seventeen year old look like he doesn't belong; just another run in the mill Germanian. "I don't. That's why I planned on calling you first but you weren't answering…"
"Son, I am busy almost all hours of the day, I don't have time to watch over you and tell you what to do," the emperor says in a tired but stern voice.
"How," Dylan half yells, "There's a war going on out there and people are dying. Where are you when it's time for battle strategies? Or decisions on where the next target is and what to do about the civilians?" He dryly laughs, "General Batchelder has been in charge of these matters for too long, he's making a mess out of the world. His tactics are sloppy and hardly coordinated. He has a bad temper and he's incapacitated at the moment. Someone needs to fill in."
"Where is he?"
"If you haven't been near a television or radio or any person than you'd know about yesterday's events at the General's Ball held in Virginia this year," Dylan states as he stares down at the red carpet running from the large wooden double doors, over the couple of steps, up to where his seat is.
"Tell me!" The king demands.
"Some terrorist named Fang took all responsibility for all of the mishaps happening for Germania over the past few weeks. He even tried to shoot Governor Walker but Batchelder must've gotten in the way," the boy says in a bored tone.
"I see," Gunther-Hagen thinks aloud.
Dylan nods as if his father can actually see him.
"What did you have in mind for yourself, to become general of the home land's army?"
A look of disgust forms on Dylan's perfectly sculpted face, "No. I was thinking you make me Knight of Arms…first rank."
Silence fills the other end of the phone and the anticipation almost makes Dylan ask if his father is still there on the other line. "That's impossible. You are just a kid. My knights have been doing their jobs for years. To even ask such a thing is-"
"Father, please. I am almost eighteen years old if I may remind you and I know you were never been around as I grew up and I except that. But just give me this one thing. I've been studying warfare and weaponry since I could read. I've been practicing my skills with a Gozen for probably just as long." Dylan sits up in the seat, his strong back resting against the soft back board of the throne and clasps his hand onto the golden arm rest.
"…I have a certain new humanoid biped machine being constructed at the moment. It's supposed to be the best weaponry suit ever built. I grant you the privilege of having a test run once it is finished," the emperor declares hesitantly.
Dylan jumps from his seat like he's a four year old boy again getting his first birthday present from his dad, "Thank you father! I won't let you down. I promise!"
"One more thing," Hans requests suddenly.
Dylan stops smiling and listens.
"Keep a close eye on this Fang person. None of us know what he could be capable of and what he plans on doing."
"Yes sir," Dylan accepts with a fiery passion in his deep Caribbean blue eyes.
If you couldn't tell some of this was a bit of a filler but I overall enjoyed it. Did you?
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