Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reviewing my story. Especially WolfKing57 who continuously participates and takes the time to write a review. To Solasgen yes that is what I'm hoping for. There isn't enough Gritty stories in this archive so I'm adding one.
At the moment Harry's Recovery time is placed at around 4 days.
Also I've added a new poll. I believe that I've been focusing too much on Harry lately and would greatly appreciate if people could take the time to vote for the other characters in hopes of them seeing some screen time.
None of these events represent any of my political views nor do I wish to antagonize any of the countries mention. This is based in a fictional universe which is just that. Fictional. I have merely created them for the entertainment of the people reading this story. Enjoy.
Chapter 8: The World keeps Spinning.
I took a sip of the French coffee before putting my cup back on the tray. Every good food in my opinion as I continued to read the newspaper. It might seems out of the ordinary for a seven year old but not a completely unexpected move in my opinion. Many other kids would probably reading the newspaper too, if only to read the list of dead people.
I read the Le Monde quietly moving my arm as little as possible while still moving the page. The Le Monde in my opinion was an excellent source of non heavily biased general information. Politically it was on the left wing of French politics but not completely in the that field. In other words it provided an excellent source of information as it more or less represented the general view of the French people who wished for change or to understand the world around them without completely being immersed in a poltical storm.
I have a feeling that the Newspaper would be very popular soon. But that doesn't matter. At the moment I turned the newspaper hoping to find some information of actual use. I learned that my brothers were still alive at the moment. Most however we still in intensive, if slightly sub-standard, care. I couldn't blame the staff though. They had to take care of their own people first and foreignors that weren't of high priority were an afterthought.
Only Guiche seemed to actually be walking around the hospital looking at our brothers through their sealed rooms. Guiche got off lucky being around two kilometres from the center of the blast. He also seemed to have enough common sense to get out of there. It was why he only had a few cuts and wounds, a cracked rib from falling debris and a first degree burn from an exploding car. I would chide him for nearly blowing out cover today but he needed the space.
This was not part of our job description. Quietly I continued to read the newspaper taking a bite out of my lettuce. At the moment all six of us were stationed at the Claude University of Lyon where we are being treated by the staff. There is nearly 10,000 people who are here at the moment. I would have to thank Kadokechi for sending us to a hospital. The clinics in France, while having the best health care in the world, couldn't handle a crisis of such proportions. Non-critical patients were stationed there at the moment.
We were non-critical as me and Guiche had recovered. We would have probably been moved if it wasn't for that man's connections. I had to thank him again. While I didn't outwardly show it while we were still on the job, or at least as much as Guiche, I did care for my brothers. Being near them eased my conscience on their safety. So far everyone was recovering at a remarkable rate.
I would have to thank Kadokechi again for keeping out healing factor quiet. How to kept the staff silent, I had no idea. Probably through threats, bribery and loyalty. I didn't care, it didn't concern me at the moment. When I woke up this morning most of my rib-cage had been mended somewhat through a combination of drugs, medical care and my own amazing healing factor. The same could be said with my limbs. I could now use my arms to a certain extent and my legs no longer looked like sticks. All in all I could now move in a wheelchair.
However there was always bad news. I seemed to be suffering from several common symptoms of someone exposed to radiation; fever, headache, diarrhea and most of all vomiting. I couldn't keep my food down at all, meaning I had to both time my meals and eat twice as much in order to avoid several malnutrition problems. Heavens knew my body needed it. Combined with the fact that my recovery was directly related to the amount of nutrition I required nearly 15,000 calories a day. I literally spent my entire time eating in hopes of gaining a measly 150 grams a day. Not much considering the fact that I lost nearly 16 kilograms during the explosion. I needed to spend at least 100 days of eating like this to recover properly and still grow.
Even so it was something I got used to, eating constantly. But that wasn't the worst. What was the problem for me was bone Marrow death. Having been exposed to what was equal to 6 gray of radiation I was suffering bone Marrow death, a symptom where the person's stems cells and white blood cells are almost completely destroyed. Another thing was I was completely sterile now. No more kids. Not something I was surprised about. I was broke my cover by laughing when I listened to the nurses try and explain the "birds and the Bees" to me. Personally I didn't really care.
Why would I want kids anyway? What kind of father did I want to me anyway? Who would want me as a father anyway? I'm just a mercenary. It's a profession for men who want money sacrificing nearly anything else for material goods. Soldiers fight for honour, mercenaries fight for gold and in that way their more honest than the soldiers when it comes to their decisions. Mercenaries don't lie to you about how it was necessary to kill someone, that they had no choice or that it was self-defence. When you kill someone you shouldn't regret it. If you did then than you shouldn't kill at all.
If so why did people come back and fight for a country that only gave them peripheral rewards like a small gold medal only worth 4,000 US dollars. What was the point of that anyway? If you wanted to be successful in my world you either kill or be killed. There is no room for regrets in my opinion. If you did regret killing then leaving the professions that involved death.
10,000 years ago conflict was inevitable. When we sat in caves and lit fires males almost always had to kill animals and other humans. It was what made the male physically and psychologically adept for killing. In past few years I think we've forgotten that. Killing is just a natural part of life. So is vengeance. It's why I laugh at vegetarians, humanitarians and pacifists.
Revenge will happen. You can't stop what is natural. It's like holding back a river alone. It can't be done. So why do people falsely believe that it can?
Because they hope.
Hope is a futile and dangerous thing. It is something that is not based on logics and facts. It something that mercenaries have discarded when they enter this profession. One way or another you will die. There is no getting around it. You will die. We don't go seeking death but we do accept that death will come for us one day in any form. We might fight but in the end there is no stopping the inevitable.
Great now I'm getting sentimental. I shake my head before reading the newspaper for any other world events. Most notably I look at the section that describes any wars that are going on. Being in France, a somewhat free country which might join the soviet Union, if for safety and close to many fronts the citizens have access to nearly unlimited amounts of information.
Fortunately not many people know how to use it or else there would be more mercenaries.
I scan the wars that are currently occurring. The Croatian War for Independence, the Gulf War and much to my surprise the Turkish War. It seemed that the Soviet Union was being ambitious enough to wrestle control of Turkey.
The conflict had been going on for nearly a decade now. Ever since Reagan had been assassinated the Turkish people finally accepted that the Americans weren't invincible. The union took this as incentive to convince the Turkish government to join Soviet Union. At first there were very people who wished to join. However over the next few years the number of supporters grew until finally last year a civil war erupted between the Pro-Communist and Pro-Democrats.
At first the Pro-Communist were low in numbers, military equipment and support. However over the past few months their efforts have become more organized, armed and effective. It seemed that the Russians were starting to grow impatient. This world was going up in flames in my opinion. The nuke just pulled the pin on the grenade. The Soviets obviously decided they couldn't wait any longer and decided to help out the Turkish supporters sending nearly 90,000 of their troops.
What surprised me however were the weapon design of the guns they were using. Iranian design. It seemed the Iran finally gave in and decided to cooperate with the Soviet Union. I turned back a few pages a read an article describing how the leaders of the two governments had come to a wonderful agreement when discussing trade.
Couldn't say I blame them. Iran was always a hot-spot. Being a neutral state at the moment it was under increasing pressure from the Soviets to join or else be invaded. It didn't help that Afghanistan was now under the Union's rule after kicking out the Mujahedeen. Faced with such prospect on fighting on from two fronts if the soviets decided to invade, The Iranians must have given in.
After all on the western seaboard you have fighting in Iraq, a Union ally, against several other Middle Eastern countries. America had withdrawn immediately after they learned that Iraq was now an official part of the Soviet Union. Of course they used "tactical" withdrawal. They obviously didn't want to antagonize the Soviet Union after Vietnam. The other Middle Eastern countries didn't seem to get the message and were being pushed back losing a large amount of territory without American support.
On the Eastern Sea Board you have both the Indian Republics and Afghanistan. Iran was now in a pincer movement where they were now completely screwed if they did join. Not joining would literally cause a trade blockade that they would be powerless to stop and send the country spiralling into poverty.
Help wouldn't arrive in time, as the Americans were still bitter and reluctant after their defeat in Vietnam and the Soviet Union with 335 million people had the manpower to invade Iran completely. And from experience everyone was a threat. Miraculously Iran made a compromise from what I could gather, reading between the lines. They would provide excellent quality arms and equipment, which they were known for, at cheaper prices to the Reds in exchange for the Union staying out of their country.
Can't say that I blame them and it is a good move. Staying neutral while keeping a superpower at bay. It wouldn't stay like that for. The world was being divided into two separate camps which were growing larger every year.
I groaned. This world was a button press away from being screwed. On the other hand I now knew that I could easily find work in Tehran now.
"You've been reading the newspapers a lot?" questioned Fleur.
I looked at my now permanent roommate. At the moment we were the only two people in here. Everyone else that came here died. As of the moment we the only 2 out of 12 people to survive the first 24 hours. As a result the staff had decided to move us to something smaller certain that we would survive the ordeal.
I didn't like it for one reason. I had to put up with Fleur and her family constantly talking throughout the day. In fact it got so bad that staff had recommended that they leave at meal times just so that we could eat in peace. Well I could eat in peace. Fleur didn't seem to mind the company
"I like to read," curtly replied before returning to my newspaper. The Koreas were fighting again. Why am I not surprised?
"But that's all you do. Eat, read and sleep," she asked curiously. Not that I could blame her. So far in the past few days all I did was eat hoping to regain my weight.
"So do you have a problem with that," I hissed angry at here for interrupting me. I glance up at the clock. I still have to put up with here for another half hour. Dammit!
"Impec! I try to be nice and you brush me off," she shouted before frowned before turning to her magazine.
I didn't want to admit but there was another reason why I disliked Fleur. She represented everything I didn't have. Money, power and most of all a family. Sure the Birds of Prey and Kadokechi's gang counted but they we were hired guns. Not true family. Then there was the fact that we could get killed any time.
"Well if you didn't annoy me, this wouldn't be the case," I growled softly ", Don't you have anything better to do?"
"Like what?" She questioned looking up from her magazine. Finally I took a good look at her.
Her hair had been maintained to become straight and Fleur seemed less tearful. Her burns seemed to have disappeared from the ointment her mother had brought. A pretty woman in my opinion. She was also wearing a new dress that her father had brought. Nevertheless I noticed that her eyes were still incredible red. Probably still mourning her sister in private instead of public. Good, I should play along if I don't want to deal with her crying. This might be good practice when my other brothers wake up.
I needed the experience with people who were in grief. My five brothers were probably going to be like that. It was something I didn't want to deal with but I had to.
"The cold war. Personally I find it very idiotic," I stated flipping through the newspapers.
"It's like having two people holding each other at gunpoint waiting for the other to shoot. Eventually someone will," I stated.
Fleur snorted at my answer.
"You sound like my father."
"Really. Well I would like to meet him sometime. He seems like an interesting man."
That was a blatant lie. I wouldn't want to meet someone like that unless was planning on hiring me. Pacifists tended to have a way of cutting down the mercenary share of blood work.
Fleur didn't seem to understand my situation but if she did there was no outward response, "You'll like him. He's very nice and the best dad ever. But he's always busy. We haven't seen him that much in the past few months ever since he became a senator."
I had been casually listening to Fleur. It was typical behaviour for the children of important figures. The parents didn't have time to spend with their children thus being unable to know them. The children grew to resent their parents. It was a vicious cycle that more often than not grew as the family got richer and more prominent. Normally I would nod and give her my condolences but what said surprised me.
Grabbing her hand I reassured, "You can't change the way the world works. Your father's a busy man. From the way you talk about him, he's trying to make it a better place."
Fleur perked up at this. Good I'm on the right track.
"But just because he's busy today doesn't mean he will be tomorrow. The future isn't set in stone. You might not seem him much tomorrow, next month or next year but he's your father. I'm pretty sure he loves you just as much as you love him."
Fleur gives me a soft smile at that answer.
"You are very wise for a boy your age …" she replies before drawing off, "I don't even know your name?"
"And you never will," I chuckled anomiously. Even as she's smiling I notice how much pain she's in. For some reason I wanted to hug her. Hold her. Wait what am I thinking? I don't hug people I've just met. In fact I don't reassure people like I just did. What the hell is wrong with me today?
"Oh come on! I gave you mine," she pouts.
I couldn't help but laugh at the way she was acting. She growls at my action before laughing along as well. Just like Remo whenever he didn't get something. In fact she was acting like us … before everything.
For a moment my smile flickers and my face masks into one filled with despair. Fleur picks up on this and stops laughing. Pity, I really liked it.
"You really miss him?" she asks keeping her distance. Hoping against a repeat of what happened yesterday
"Just as much as you miss her?" I reply softly. I feel like crying now. Slowly I urge dies down no. No need to cry now. I can do that in the bathroom … where no one is around. Eventually silence descends over us, the pungent smell of corpses still fresh in our minds.
"What do you think is for dinner?" I ask hoping to change the subject. Fleur decides to play along.
For the next half hour we just talk as two children from two different worlds about French culture. Just like all children we laughed and smiled. It was a tiny beacon of joy in a hospital of sorrow and hopelessness but it was enough for me.
Eventually her parents returned to look after her and I returned to my newspaper. Her mother flashed me a strange smile which I returned.
Years later I would look back at the memory and smile glad that fate gave me a chance and I welcomed it. I would also understand why her mother had smiled at me knowingly.
Author's Note: I hope you guys like the chapters.
So READ and REVIEW!
Don't forget to vote as well.