Note: I made a mistake with the dates with the previous chapter; little rusty I suppose. By the time this goes up, the dates should be fixed. Also, if you get a chance, glance back over Chapters 16 and 18 and 20. I've tightened up the story there.
Chapter 26: Relentless
Brandon
Seria Wastes, Upper Crasia Outskirts – Jilachi Desert
September 13, 2037
0630 hrs
They were rather surprised to see us. I just pulled the trigger.
"Watch out!" I said.
I didn't fire directly at the first guy I saw. Micho took care of him. No, I fired at the shadow behind the initial figure. It wasn't intentional…it just happened that way. Back in Recon School, the same thing happened when we were learning the nuances of close quarter combat during Urban Warfare week. I guessed my aim was off just a little…but not bad enough to where that was my last shot.
I got lucky then. The bullet that hit was the one that counted. But it was essential to the soldier to be good more than lucky. But luck did play its role.
It didn't matter. There were four dead bodies at our feet within a few seconds. They were not elite. They didn't even use a freaking flashbang grenade or anything of that nature.
Their voices were obviously Yuke. I guess they thought it would have been like shooting fish in a barrel. Maybe they didn't hear us.
"How the hell did they get underground?!" Micho shouted.
"This is Juliet One, we under attack from all sides!"
"This is Nineteen, we've got foot mobiles underground in Two-Beta!"
I heard the constant radio chatter. It was happening all over the place.
"Team One, rally up in Two Beta. Go!"
"Enemy spotted outside Four Alpha and Beta! They're coming in from underground!"
"Let's see if we can find our way to another area!" I said.
But just we did, a part of the roof collapsed. It was to our right so we ran over to it. I wanted to see if we could use our rope to escape through the hole. We looked up and saw the hole that led up to the next floor; an opening that was too high to jump and not secure enough to climb without rope. Then I looked up and saw a figure appear at the top of the stairs, but Micho called it first.
"Adrian!" Micho shouted. It was indeed the wannabe white rapper at the top of the floor. For whatever reason, he didn't have his helmet on.
"Yo homies! Grab on!" he shouted and down came that thousand pound test rope we climbed so many times in training.
I didn't know what was better, Adrian lowering a rope or addressing us as homies in a battle situation. We climbed up the side of the building's wall, using the collapsed supports to make our way up. After a few seconds, Adrian pulled me out with one hand. We turned and pulled Micho up. However, just as Micho came out, there were a few shots fired up through the hole.
"Hostiles! In the basement!" Adrian shouted.
Well, no duh Mr. Obvious.
There to greet us was the majority of our team, but I could hear the chatter of Chapman and Jenks while they engaged hostiles in the next building.
"Get some C4 in there! We'll seal the tunnel!" Teller said.
Peter began setting up a pair of C4 charges and dropping them down into the hole. We ran out of the house into the street. To the north of us, Riba's unit was engaged with hostiles across to the street.
The town had been divided up in several main areas. One Alpha was a small restaurant of some kind and it was Team Two's OP. Two Alpha was Company HQ and it was in some kind of small office building. Two Beta was where Micho and I was before we were ambushed. Two Alpha and Charlie were the shanty buildings next to us. Three Alpha was a some kind of grocery store, Three Beta was the parking lot near the store. It was our fall back position in case we were attacked and had to abandon the town. We'd set up three roadblocks, one with Team Two on the western edge of the town, one with part of HQ company near the north road, and part of Team One near the store. To the south was a road that ran diagonal to the town and led to the bridge that led into Upper Crasia proper. There used to be a river there, but Seelow Rot and the droughts put an end to that.
Then there was Four Alpha and Beta. They were just the skeletons of buildings destroyed by bombings, the residents of this town having fled long ago.
We were about to destroy another one of these buildings.
Teller shouted over the radio. "All callsigns, we got a controlled det at Two Beta in thirty seconds! Move! Move!"
We ran across the street and a dust storm began to kick up. It was like we were in some old western movie.
"Fire in the hole!" someone shouted, probably Peter.
Peter pressed the button on whatever detonator he had. I wasn't an expert on C4 or the detonators. It wasn't even technically old school C4. It was this new compound that was invented ten years ago.
There was a rumble beneath our feet and every opening on the first floor of the middle structure. The center part of the building collapsed under its own weight. The other two buildings took little or no damage, but the job was done. We set up in the small building right behind One Alpha, which was adjacent to the Company HQ. The place had to be either another office building or a delivery area. There was a gigantic hole in the rear of the store and part of the building had collapsed. We could clearly see the almost endless desert from the front. However, storms began to move in. The distant sky was charcoal black.
We moved some old desks to create a barricade in the rear as Lt. Frost's attachment reported shots fired as well.
The fire tapered off for a moment and Micho decided to make a nice little point.
"There goes the phone." He said.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Jenks asked Micho.
Fire erupted from Four Alpha's way.
"Nevermind!"
A series of black and brown fatigue wearing troops emerged from the buildings in front of our position. Almost immediately, Riba's squad opened fire on the enemy unit.
"Twelve o'clock!" someone shouted.
I couldn't see exactly where the enemy was coming from my position at first. It wasn't until I exited the building and ducked behind some old metal container that I saw the full number of enemies.
There were a lot more than I thought…
The buildings were 150 meters away, give or take. I guessed there were at least four dozen enemies pouring out just Four Alpha alone.
"They're coming out the woodwork! Light 'em the hell up!"
Light 'em up. I was tired of people saying that. I'm sure it sounded cool in the moment, but it was rather obvious that when the enemy shot at me…I'd fire back, strict ROE or not.
"Damn! Hostiles! Nine o'clock!" Wash shouted.
The enemies were on the roofs of the same buildings, one of which we'd destroyed.
"Where the hell did they come from!?" shouted the LT.
"RPG!" someone screamed.
The blast erupted just above our heads. It hit the top of the building and the concussion was enough to knock me down. I'd been knocked down before…and I guess I was lucky it didn't hit me with any shrapnel. Maybe I over did it because the LT came running over to and picked me up.
"On your feet, Corporal! You're still in one piece!"
I looked up and saw the unthinkable. The bridge was down the road and coming up from the distant road was the unmistakable outline of vehicles…huge ones at that.
"Tanks! We got tanks inbound!" Riba shouted from down the street.
As burning rain of cordite combined with the storms of dust, I saw some monumental figures in the distance. At a second glance, it was oddly familiar. Through my scope…I could clearly see tanks…but there was fear, devastation in my heart. They each had two long barrels in front and spikes for treads. It looked almost alien. We all saw them and there was a shared jolt of terror at what we were actually seeing. They were the same metallic dragons we saw an eternity ago in the Gublina.
Samizats. I counted twenty of them.
"Holy shit, yo!" Adrian screamed. He spoke for all of us.
The blasts came quick and furious. The street was torn up and Riba's men barely had time to evac the building before it exploded from a distant tank shell.
"Medic!" someone shouted.
"All units, this Alpha! Fall back to Three Alpha, break!" the Captain said.
We didn't waste any time. We were about to be overrun and we were too strung out along the middle of town to be any good. Someone had mentioned the enemy was probably elite paratroops of some kind. I heard all kinds of incessant radio chatter to support that. It didn't matter really. Hazri paratroopers? That was one thing…but tanks were another. The main barricade was to the southeast part of town. There was an old grocery store and the parking lot which was covered in sandbags and concertina wire. We wound our way through the area as enemies to the south began to shoot down the street.
Blasts came down all over the area and we retreated inside the store to regroup. There wasn't much inside except ruin. Everything inside was empty, rotted or stolen. There, Morrison was shouting orders to the others as we tried to make something out of this blitz attack.
"Get the AT weapons! I want all Harpoon gunners up now!" he shouted. "This is Werewolf Alpha, require immediate air support in Grid 29, Point 119-X200N. I repeat…"
The tanks were firing some kind of shell that came on an arc. They weren't big enough to be artillery rounds, but too small to be mortar rounds. We'd seen this before back in the Baston and Gublina…terrifying stuff. Dickerson's team pulled back as they tried to collect the wounded from Riba's group. Most of them took heavy hits when those tank shells started flying.
There was no open vantage point except at the front door, so we decided to move back out into the parking lot to get a better view. HQ group had taken up positions near the entrance.
The entire roof shook once, and then part of it gave way all at once. The dust cloud filled the area, right over where the produce section probably was. There was no one over to the east side of the store, but it was enough of a shock to send us running for cover. Just as we managed to regroup, another blast tore through the place. I felt something crash into my back and everything was dark. A huge weight was my partner. A large pile of rubble had crashed on me…but my initial fear that I'd died was put to rest. It only felt like a lot.
Some of the other guys got most of the rubble off of me. Then I heard screaming…
It was Micho. Oh shit, I thought.
"Micho!" I just shouted. I ran over to him. "Medic!"
I looked at my friend and there was blood everywhere. Gray and the other Corpsman had gotten there before I even thought to run to him. I was one of the few that arrived. Most of the others had fled the building. I didn't even notice that parts of the building were still collapsing.
How bad had he been hit, I wondered.
Micho continued to scream in pain…and as I moved around the docs…I saw the full extent of the damage.
I wasn't sure if it was irony. That word often got thrown around too much. I'd just talked to his wife and promised I'd keep him safe not fifteen minutes prior. This was a true disaster in many ways. Not only did I fail to keep my promise…we were being overrun by enemy armor and the entire company was in disarray. It could have been worse…he could have died. But his survival, even with Gray's expertise wasn't a guarantee.
His left arm had been severed off.
I had no idea how it happened. Did a large piece of shrapnel hit his arm just right? It couldn't have been the explosion itself; that would have killed him head on.
Despair. Desolation.
There was my best friend and together we did countless things both stupid and wonderful. He'd seen to my entertainment for years. I stood at his wedding as the number one wingman. We'd been through countless hours of training and PT, suffered and bled together as brothers from different moms and in war as well. He was always my go to guy.
With Walt gone, we were the last of the Alaska brothers in this war. But as I stood over the kid I'd spent so much time with, almost ten years in fact, I realized those times were at an end.
I would have to face this enemy without my partner. I was a flight lead without a wingman.
"No! No! GODDAMN IT!" He screamed.
I didn't know where his left arm went. Gray had quickly managed to stop the bleeding with some special shot…I wasn't sure what he used. It wasn't the RM…the Regen Matrix wasn't going to help a severed limb that much. More of the building became unstable and parts of it started to collapse.
Gray began to get the others and they lifted Micho. I tried to help, but they wanted me to stay away.
Riba shouted, "Captain, we need to book! The place can't take much more of this!"
"All Werewolf units, this is Alpha, get out of there now!"
We filed out of the building as more explosions came in. The building collapsed and we spread out over the parking lot expecting the worst. Enemies now converged down the street.
"Hostiles closing in from eleven o'clock!" someone shouted.
"Hit him with everything you've got! We're falling back to Three Beta!" someone else shouted.
I stopped; I tried to look back for where Gray and Micho were. They'd move out of the building but I wasn't sure where. Wash grabbed me by the shoulder.
"Don't stop! Keep moving!" he shouted.
Just as well, I imagined. A shell hit the corner of the grocery store and took down the entire front of the store.
We ducked behind some cover, which was really just a set of old, rusted pipes. There was an explosion just in front of us; probably a small mortar shell or a grenade at about 200 meters away. The black suited Soma, or whoever the heck they were, massed near our original positions and began exchanging fire with us. Some were firing from the dirt berms near the road parallel to our position. Morrison shouted that we were being flanked, but it didn't seem like it at first. All the guns were essentially in front of us.
None of the enemy paratroops had landed near the parking lot. Most of them had landed to the north and west. I didn't think it so was bad planning from the enemy as it was the chaos of the situation. Much like our first combat drop in Baston, which felt like ancient freaking history by the time we got to Jilachi, they came under fire and dropped wherever they could. The Captain may have been right…but it certainly didn't feel like it.
My thoughts momentarily turned to Micho's situation and wondered if they'd be able to evac him at all. It was clear that the enemy's full on counterattack had finally reached us and there was no telling what other chaos occurred along the front line.
That was a silly thought, though. Of course they'd evac him.
The real problem was what I should have been thinking about before: the tanks. Tristan and Willis, who took Rico's place, had knocked out two of the T-922s to the north. It had bought Dickerson's team time to fall back. But I knew there was a third and a fourth around the area.
I noticed that next to me was Wash, which was odd since Chapman was supposed to be there. However, he'd retreated to deeper cover near the LT, who stood behind a series of shipping crates. The Captain was on the other side of the parking lot still screaming for air support. That told me one thing: there was a hell of a lot more enemy tanks than I thought.
I fired a few shots back at the enemy, one shot hitting an exposed Soma soldier at center mass. He clutched himself and fell backwards over the berm. Adrian thought the way he fell and rolled down the hill was pretty funny. I guessed it was, but my concern was not being crushed or torn in half by a goddamn tank. One of the other AT guns, probably Tristan, screamed its payload into the air and over our heads just as I tried to reload and take another shot. It was to the west of our position however.
I panicked until I heard a loud blast. I crawled to the other side of the pipes and poked my head around the other side. At about 500 meters out, there was a burning vehicle there; one I hadn't seen! Apparently, it came over the crest in the hill and the astute Estovakian rocket man saw it before anyone else did.
But just as that happened, everyone could see that one tank wasn't alone…
I turned and ducked back behind the pipes as the whirl of the Harpoon guns tore into the buildings down the street. There was a sound a moment later; well…more like a soft drone of an engine or a machine. Oh, I knew what that sound was. A huge smile came over my face. Planes.
My dad flew one of these specific types of planes a few times himself. But I didn't need to say anything…
"What the hell's that?" Allen asked.
"A-10s inbound! Watch out!" The LT screamed at us.
Some of the others ducked. I didn't. I looked up and I saw the silhouettes, and rather ugly ones at that. They weren't that fast really, but it seemed that way. I counted them: one, two, three, four…and five.
The A-10s paint scheme was a shade of camouflage and a little powder blue too. They approached in a line and I could hear their faint radio transmissions. The quintet burned over us at top speed and like the breaths of a Dragon, they spewed out the flames of Gau-8 Gatling Gun hell on our enemies. The paint scheme was a shade of camouflage and a little powder blue too.
It was almost beautiful. The A-10s kept a reasonable distance between themselves as they did their bombing runs…if you could call them that. They were not exactly bombing runs, more like Air-to-Ground Missile runs. They struck out from the wingtips like snakes and in a few fell swoops, destroyed just about every building in town save the one we defended.
"Hell yeah! How you like that?!" shouted Cameron from the other side of the parking lot.
Some of the others cheered as well…but it wasn't like the old days of the war. Back in those simple days of wandering around the drought and deserted Baston Forest, fighter jets were part of an experience shared by all of us, and yet it meant something slightly different to each individual Marine. It was like your birthday, your anniversary, and every horrible childhood nightmare all rolled up into a single split second of destruction.
I had a deep breath and turned away from the smoking ruins. I sat on the ground, my weapon lazily hanging from my hands, but I couldn't smile or get excited.
I wish it would have been as easy as Raven Bauer's routine after an explosive climax: simply plop down somewhere, have a cigarette and call home and say hello to the kids. Course, her hands would be shaking, the pretty makeup smeared, the suit torn and slightly burned in places…and her face covered in specks of blood, dust and grime. If that was my life, I'd just pretend I was back with Dulcinea and this war never happened.
Walt was dead, my sister was in a hospital, Micho was on his way there, and Dulcinea was alone back home.
I wished it was that easy.
It was then I realized I was still on the ground and everyone began to move around. The enemy had been dispersed, the tanks destroyed and now my moment of complete serenity was at an end…and rightfully so. Wash had walked over to me and extended his hand. He lifted me off the ground and suddenly…every panicked thought crept back into my head. What about Micho? Was he alright?
"Damn, the Army saved our asses this time." Wash said.
"Tell me about it." I replied. My head darted around as I looked for Gray and Micho. Morrison had rallied up all the officers for a minute and they all talked to us. I ran around the other side of the LARA barricade near the road, but there was no sign of either of them. I turned back around just as the lieutenant called us over. I ran back to my original position as Teller and Alphonso came running up, some of the others lagging behind them.
The LT walked over to us, rallied the team.
"Now what?" Wash asked the officer.
MacGruber looked at the smoking ruin of the town. Just as he did, the five A-10s flew back over us. Their normally quiet turbo engines were loud as a thunderstorm. The officer looked sullen as he turned to us.
"We get ready for round two. Looks like the Soma's not done with us yet."
It wasn't going to be that easy after all. Fire began to pick up once again on the edge; just a few shots here and there. In the past that would have bothered us; instead, shots fired weren't much concern as we stood in the middle of Jilachi. Then I heard the distant blasts. More artillery.
"Incoming!" someone shouted. There was a massive blast in the road and it threw us all into flight, some of us more literally than others. The cries for medics went out and it seemed that the LT's words were right on the money, as they usually were.
"It's gonna be a long ass day!" Wash shouted as he and I dove for cover behind one of the berms.
***
Dulcinea
September 13, 2037
Pikes Hugo, Alaska
0800 hrs
The day came and went in the blink of an eye. After my moment of loneliness, I went back downstairs and watched as the others talked to this Carile Southerland after all. She was talking on a video cam from a Navy ship in the middle of the Ceres Ocean. The one really weird thing about Carile was that her hair was even brighter red than her mother's. Something really freaky genetic-wise happened with that one. She had a huge smile on her face while she talked to her mother; strange, because her body looked like hell. Her looks gave away whatever she'd been through in Yuktobania.
Carile looked anorexic. Her short, stringy hair was blinding red. She had a plain face, her forehead was really long, and looked kind of pale. Her arms were filled with IVs and other needles.
A living casualty of this atrocious war.
She was supposed to be transferred to a hospital near St. Hewlett. Carile wasn't too specific about her troubles, but her injuries were very serious. Her leg had nearly gone gangrenous. Had Brandon and the others not found her when they did, she probably would have died within a few days. She didn't remember how she ended up where she did.
I couldn't fathom how lonely it would be to have such a debilitating injury and left in a dumpster. It was one of those things where you just had to thank whoever the hell was up in the clouds for guiding them to her.
After that, we sort of milled around. Ms. Southerland was so happy to see her daughter; she cooked us this wonderful dinner. The burn-red headed woman didn't strike me as someone who was good in the kitchen, to be honest. However, I knew Tasha thought her mom was an overrated cook, but that wasn't the point. No idea where she got that Barasa Turkey from on such a short notice. However, I forgot one thing.
While regular turkey made you sleepy, Barasa Turkey was a double dose of tryptophan, or whatever the hell they called that stuff that makes you go nap-time after dinner. I was out within ten minutes of watching television. It was so bad I was literally drooling on the couch by the time I woke up all of the sudden thinking someone was there…seven hours later. Someone had put a cover over me, so I took it and trundled upstairs.
I knew there were a lot of things about the Lovecraft family I didn't know. That worked both ways, however. I didn't tell Brandon's parents about whatever the hell this genetic defect I had that protected me from the disease overseas. Mainly, I didn't understand what the hell was going on. Before I left Yuktobania, there was this weird doctor chick who told me everything would be fine with me and the baby. I took her word for it at the time.
I don't know what it is about my mom and premature births…it's like it's genetic.
I remembered Brandon saying that days prior…but that felt like an eternity ago. Would that be me? Would that be the fate of my kid?
It was weird, however. Few in the media knew there was some sickness going around. It was…disturbing.
And I sure as hell didn't tell them that the enemy was hunting my boyfriend. I only heard that through rumors back in Bethlehem Park; well, it wasn't just him. Tasha and a few others were mentioned. But why? Why, of all the soldiers on a battlefield, would an enemy single out a few? Maybe there was a common sense answer for that, but I didn't know enough about war to understand that.
I had little sense of time. In Sand Island, there was always sun in the morning. In Alaska…not so much. In fact, the only sense of it I had was when I panicked upon a pair of tiny hands upon my side. I screamed and hopped up from the bed…and I fell over the other side, but not before I saw a pair or a trio of girls who were equally confused by my reaction.
"Aaahh!"
"Aaahh!" the girls screamed in unison. I barely made note of it, but there was a third girl there…but oddly, she did not react at all.
Ignoring both the pain of my head and the embarrassment, I popped up and got a better view of the girls. In fact, Mrs. Lovecraft was equally freaked out by it as she asked us what was going on fron downstairs…and I politely assured her the situation was just the excitement of immature girls…including myself.
The shadowy haired kid was obviously Astrid Lovecraft, Brandon's baby sister. Well, actually she wasn't a baby sister anymore; after all, she was on the precipice of being a teenager. She wasn't at dinner last night since she was across the street with her friend. Of course, Astrid's personality, much like Tasha's at times, often grated on people…so I guessed the further away she was from the other drama in the house, the better.
"Oh, it's you…Astrid, right?" I said, still catching my breath, "Whoa! You scared the hell out of me!"
"Sorry…"
"What are you girls doing here?" I asked.
"We came to wake you up, but you went all demon-possessed chick on us." Astrid said.
"Whoops. Um…well, I'm up. Thanks."
I looked to the right of the girls, both probably the same age, and there was one who was obviously younger. She had short of longish black hair and a bright set of eyes. However, her face was dead…her body language didn't look natural at all; it was like she was a kid with a zombie's disposition.
"Who's this?" I asked, pointing at the girl.
"Oh, that's Lucy." said Astrid, touching the girl. Lucy shied away a bit, then looked straight at me.
I then vaguely remembered that Lucy was the daughter of Sueltana. Mr. Lovecraft told me neither he nor his wife had told his other kids that Sueltana was dead. He even curtly told me not to say anything about it to them.
In fact, the only people that knew were Brandon and his parents. Not even Tasha knew. I wondered why and Brandon's old man simply said he and the family would wait until after the war was over to have a proper funeral. It was hard to put into words just how much of an impact she had on the Lovecraft family…but why wait that long? There was no telling when the war would end.
And here I sat on a bed, face to face with her daughter. I froze up for a moment. Once again, I decided to
"Oh…oh." I said. "It's nice to meet you, Lucy."
"Umm…okay. You must be really shy." I said patting the head of the black-haired girl. She recoiled a bit and her face was one of sickness and fear. Her warm palm touched my hand for only a second; then, she began to walk away backwards. Her saddened face and her blue eyes were to the verge of waterworks. She didn't take her gaze off me…and then she flew out of the room.
"She can't talk anymore. Mom won't tell me why though. But I mean…she could talk before it's…"
"Wow…"
I shook my head and turned my attention to the tan-skinned girl in front of me. Her brown hair was long and curly. She had a puffy, bright face that made her look younger than she was probably was. She seemed a cheerful sort; her pearly white teeth were enough to make me smile.
"Who is this?"
"Oh, this is Mina. She lives down the street."
I'd never seen Mina, but I knew enough to know that whenever Brandon, Tasha, or Micho said the words, down the street, it meant the other's house.
"You're Mr. Alou's daughter, aren't you?"
"Yeah, my dad spends a lot of time over here. My little sister's throwing up all over the place so I'm not going back home yet." Mina said, "I wish Micho would hurry up and get home. This stupid war is pissing me off."
"Join the club." I said. Astrid turned to her friend.
"My big brother's her boyfriend." She said. She then turned back to me with a conceited face. "I'm glad you came. I gotta be honest. When I first met you, I thought you were a total ditz. Then I thought you were a whore and you'd cheat on my brother."
You little bitch, I thought.
I really shouldn't have been surprised. I was exactly like Astrid at eleven. Mina wasn't much better. She reminded me of my friends at eleven; the ones who just agreed with everything I said no matter how dumb it was.
However, she continued, "But my brother likes you. My dad likes you. Mom likes you…so that means I like you."
I couldn't help but laugh. It was an amazing thing. Her logic was flawed and scathing (and it was obvious who she got it from), but it was beautiful and sincere in its…shrewd simplicity.
"Thanks." I said.
"Come on. Mom's making breakfast and I'd really like to get out the house before all Dad's friends show up again."
I jumped up and followed the girls.
Exiting the room, there was this unique smell of sweet air no doubt emerging from the kitchen. I walked downstairs, my bare feet touching the plush carpet. Course, I had to dodge a few computer cords and such. I walked around the edge of the living room to the kitchen, where Mrs. Lovecraft greeted me with a warm smile as she poured batter into a pan. There was a radio playing some music from the 1950s or some long-be-gone era. She was also barefooted, but her feet made no sound as she slid, shook, sang and danced along with the song. It was a rather upbeat number with jazz horns and some crooner or whatever they called the
I couldn't hold back my laughter. She invited me to dance with her, but such a thing wasn't my forte. But, after her subtle nudging, we both found ourselves shaking to some archaic jazz number. I could tell Brandon's mother had been doing this for years: talking on the phone, dancing, talking to me, all while handling knives, food and other objects like she was a wizard. I imagined such skill at multitasking came from having to handle all those buttons and switches in her plane.
After Mina left, Astrid, Brandon's father emerged with Lucy in tow. We sat down and we ate pancakes smothered with powdered sugar and real strawberries crushed into a fine puree. I imagined if my mom had made this, she'd have called it the "Diabetes Special".
Astrid would occasionally mouth something in Yuke to Lucy and she'd nod her accordingly. It was awkward to watch because I had no idea why Lucy was mute. She wasn't deaf, obviously. Why would she be as silent as a mime? Did the war take such an unbearable toll on her? I knew her mother was dead and her father had gone missing…but what caused this? I knew plenty of kids who'd lost parents…but it didn't render them speechless.
Unless…
Maybe…did she lose her tongue or something?
It wasn't unheard of. There were stories about people who'd lost their tongues in bizarre accidents. War was filled with bizarre things. But that couldn't be the case; there were no visible scars on her body. So what happened, I wondered.
It was a Saturday so all the girls left the house to do whatever the hell girls did in Alaska on the weekend. I would have joined them, but I found myself glued to the television. The harbinger of bad news, that device was something I didn't obsess over. In Yuktobania, there were long stretches where I didn't watch TV at all. Then again, my mom would have committed suicide if she couldn't watch her soaps and silly game shows for a day.
Mr. Lovecraft was standing next to a table near the living room. He walked towards the couch and stood almost where I stood before. His right hand was on his chin and his eyes were locked onto the anchorwoman as she spoke about the situation overseas. Little of it made sense to me. She mentioned places I'd never heard of, army divisions I had no idea existed, and behind her were scenes of destruction and chaos. I was unsure how anyone could cope with such a thing, and yet I knew there were many people, my Brandon and Micho in addition, who were seeing such a thing on a daily basis. Or hourly basis, as Mr. Lovecraft put it yesterday.
"What's going on?" I asked.
Mr. Lovecraft didn't take his fingers from his chin. "It's getting real ugly overseas. The front line's complete chaos."
"Are you sure?" I asked. It seemed a dumb question. If anyone knew anything about war, it was Brandon's old man.
"I can tell because normally in the news you don't get play by play of a situation in a battle zone…unless the crap's hit the fan."
And once again…I had to ask something private. "What…I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep prying but…what happened to Lucy?"
For the first time, Mr. Lovecraft came off as rude and angry. "I have no idea what the hell happened overseas with her. All I know is that she's here with us now and she can't talk anymore. It was kinda weird though."
He paused for quite some time before he spoke again, "I got a phone call from someone in Oured, she was the daughter of a CIA spook I met in Versua. She told me where I could find Lucy…so I hopped on a plane and got to Sand Island, picked her up…and well, the rest is unimportant. She's alive…that's all that matters."
He wasn't being truthful with me. His face, his eyes, his gestures…he gave it away. But outside her mother's death, perhaps something truly horrible did happen to her…and that was no longer my place to pry. So, I changed the subject.
"Is that what war's like? Just staying alive?" I said.
I looked over at the television and the news was on. It was the national news, BAN Channel Nine.
"I'm not concerned about what it means anymore."
"Well, at least we can agree who's at fault."
"Not really."
"What do you mean?! We didn't start this war!"
"We all did."
I could barely speak after that. I could barely make out the word, what.
"Every one of us who stood by while corruption infiltrated our governments, every one of us who created the very weapons they fight with…and every one of us who laced up their boots for war. We're all to blame."
At that point, I became furious. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You're wrong." I said, my voice broken. "You're wrong! Tell that to everyone who lost people over there and see if they think we're to blame!"
"We all started this war. Humans start wars and humans end them. Not that it's right…that's the way it is."
Mr. Lovecraft stared right at me. He then walked past me and faced the window, then turned back towards me on a dime. "When I was a fighter pilot I was peerless, but for this…I am ashamed."
"What?"
He laughed a bit, shook his head and said. "War's changed. It is advanced technology in the hands of the disenfranchised and the lazy…every expert after the fact, every desperate man in the world…the technologically skilled teen and the expendable warrior for hire."
Where did he get that assumption? There were plenty of different types of warriors…why did he think war was in the hands of such a select few?
He continued, "I want my children to come home alive. To have that wish is hypocrisy because in order for that to occur…I have to wish death upon the enemies of the state."
"Your generation is sent to die because of the sins of mine. And your children may be forced to the same. And so it goes."
"No…I'll never let them be part of something that horrible."
The proud ex-pilot turned his back to me and faced the window, the low sunlight peeking through the shades.
"My wife believed that once," Mr. Lovecraft said, "…on the day our first child was born. Catherine, that was her name, was killed by an enemy fascist state in Versua…testing a new weapon of mass destruction on the cruise ship we were on. Then, a few weeks later…we were fighting in the war."
I knew some of the story, of course. However, Brandon didn't tell me that part.
"I'm sorry." It was all I could think of to say. Mr. Lovecraft turned back to me.
"That, my dear…is why we're all to blame." He said.
His voice was depressed. It was a completely different mood from the previous day.
"War is a distortion. You see life differently. You view death differently. After all we did…what did it really do? I'm sorry, Dulcinea. I've spent all night thinking about it…twenty nine years…and you know what I realized? I thought I had answers…but I don't know anymore."
Mr. Lovecraft turned and walked away slow; each step heavy along the smooth white floor.
There was always something theatrical about Mr. Lovecraft's words, or at least it felt that way. What must it have been like to have that kind of peerless ability? Maybe that's why he and his wife were so melodramatic all the time. I knew they were good pilots back in the day. Given that, they must have performed some truly superhuman, or maybe near-suicidal, feats in the air. I knew I'd probably never learn what they truly did.
That also meant they had a right to the opinions they held, and it wasn't any easier to understand. It seemed that both Brandon's parents could never fully break away from their pasts.
War is a distortion.
To them, it was like a black, shadowy hand that would never let go of them. They could come home, raise a family, be a wonderful person…and the shadows of war would always follow them for the rest of their lives. Would this be Brandon's fate? Would Tasha feel the same thing?
I walked over to the couch and felt deflated. I came to Alaska to get away from Sand Island. In the home of Brandon's parents, I felt safe…loved even.
Sitting on the couch in the living room as bad news poured in from every ticker and anchorperson that popped up on the screen, I felt so alone. I didn't know what to do.
None of us knew anything about war anymore. No one knew what to do. Mine fault was ignorance. Brandon's parents? Their fault was nearly thirty years of warped memories.
I felt helpless. We, everyone at home…
We were all helpless.
***
Brandon
September 13, 2037
0720 hrs
It took at least thirty minutes to clear out the last bad guys. There was a small contingent of 82nd Airborne in the area who helped us clear out the rest of the town and its outskirts. They were en route, in those brand new Strykers by the way, to the south and their MSR just happen to cross paths with ours. By the time the fight was over, the entire town was flattened. The fall back position was cratered and every building was a pile of rubble, some even more so than before the fight started.
The entire town was covered in bodies of Soma special troops and the like. And once again, we didn't have a Marine killed. In a cold and pragmatic way…it didn't really matter. We had ten wounded…almost all of them very seriously. Most of the casualties were from Riba's team and they were the victims of the almost ceaseless artillery and gunfire.
"Who the hell were those guys?" someone asked.
"They were Soma alright, but none I've ever seen before. These guys were a cut above." Dickerson said.
"These aren't the Dogmen…these guys were like their Spec-Ops or something." Sheck said.
I walked over to my best friend and there was only a painful realization that his war had come to an end, maybe even parts of his life. He'd finally been stabilized but he still looked jittery, pained and angry. He was incomplete, a part of his body was gone and we'd probably never find the missing piece.
"Micho…you alright?" I asked.
"What do you think?!" He replied.
Gray and the others lifted him onto one of the stretchers. "Just calm down, alright. You're gonna be fine. We're gonna get you out of here."
And for the first time in many years, the hardened Versuan kid, the boy whose father was tough as nails and was as ruthless as his enemy, the same man who, like me, had been told to live by a certain male code forever…actually cried in front of me. It was the one strange thing that kept me from getting pissed off at the enemy. I was sadder for him. What was he going to tell his kid? How would tell this story? What would he tell Rachel? What would I tell her? It was depressing.
"How am I gonna hold my son with one arm?" he said, broken and confused. I actually believed he tried to hold up his left shoulder when he said that.
"At least you'll see him for the first time." I said. It was all I could say.
Then, Micho started laughing. It was such a stark contrast from his attitude before and I was thankful for it. I knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Yeah…that is true." He said as they prepared to lift him into the 011 LARA. I knew what was thinking…and I knew that he would've thought the same if our positions were reversed. As such, I added a parting shot.
"If you do talk to Rachel before the war's over, tell her I said if she wants to kick my ass in a dream she better wake up and apologize." I said.
Micho laughed again. His mirth was my joy as well. "Whatever, dude."
Gray said. "Come on, we got to go."
Just as Gray said that, Captain Morrison came running up to him.
"Gray, there's been a change of plans. We're gonna have to evac the wounded to Gersu. Some of the forward shock trauma units have come under heavy fire from enemy troops. They're getting pounded!"
"That far in the rear sir?!" Gray responded.
"The whole front line's in chaos. Everyone from us to 82nd, 1st Marines, 3rd ID…they're getting hit hard by enemy counterattacks." Morrison said. He paused for a long moment as we all turned our heads toward the east. We could see what appeared to thousands upon thousands of tracers stretching into the air and all across the distance.
"What we saw may just be the beginning." Captain Morrison concluded.
Dickerson walked over to the Captain, "Sir, we have a transmission from Battalion."
"Put it through."
Rarely would such a transmission be open broadcast, but for whatever reason, the Captain talked with Battalion command in front of all of us.
"Werewolf Alpha, this is Bear One. Request a sitrep on your current situation."
The Captain replied, "Sir, we are defending this road at Point 120-X256N. We've taken multiple casualties from enemy artillery and small arms fire, over."
"Werewolf Alpha, we need you to peel off whatever you can and send them to rally point Romeo Whiskey, Point 121-X235N. Take the rest of your company south to link up with Battalion and set up defensive positions."
"Solid copy. Interrogative, what's the situation at Romeo Whiskey?"
"This one comes from the top. A group of Marines and paratroopers are pinned down in the city and need immediate exfiltration. They have captured several HVTs with critical intel about something called a Project Golgotha. We need that intel, ASAP. I'm sending everyone we can but our HQ getting pounded out here and we need every man we can spare."
"Roger, I'll peel off a platoon to assist."
"Solid Copy, Bear One out."
The Captain didn't waste any time. He turned to our team leader, "Lieutenant, take some of your shooters and get to Romeo Whiskey on the double. Everyone else, we're Oscar Mike to Battalion's position. Let's go!"
Our entire team milled around the area. I saw Peter picking up enemy guns and examining them. Jenks and Janson, who'd recently returned from the injured list in the rear, were near him.
The Lieutenant's voice was quick and demanding. It was hard to believe this guy was pretty much right out of the Naval Academy. "You, you and you…we're moving out. Eric, I want you on the Harpoon. Allen, you're driving, Wash you take Micho's sector."
Both of the Sergeants ran up as everyone in the company began running around to their vehicles. "Alphonso, take the other LARA with Cameron and Miller. I want a twenty meter spread between you and us." The LT said. He then turned to Hoot, "Teller, you take the rest of the team and link up with Battalion. Check weapons and ammo. Grab some of the enemy's ordinance as well, we might need it."
The officer asked Jenks and I to gather some of the enemy's weapons. We were short on grenades and since Tristan wasn't on our team and Willis was pretty out of the war, we needed some anti-tank weapons. Unfortunately, the only ones we could find were regular RPGs and an older model Javelin with a few rounds. Normally, picking up enemy ordinance was a dicey proposition and we'd already had two Marines wounded because of problems with the Soma's weapons. Perhaps the enemy was pretty elite after all. The Soma weren't too good about weapon maintenance and all things considered, the weapons we found were in pretty good shape. We ran back to the team.
"Sir, where the hell is Romeo Whiskey anyway?" asked Allen, looking at a map.
The LT pointed to somewhere on it and said, "It's a few klicks to the northeast, just over the hills."
"They're sending us out there alone!?"
"They're peeling off guys from all over. If not, we still got a mission."
"Sir, do have a sitrep on enemy forces there?" Alphonso asked.
MacGruber took a deep breath and said grimly, "We've got no idea on how many, though my first guess would be…a lot."
Alphonso only nodded. He turned and took Miller with him as Cameron climbed into the driver's seat of his vehicle. Jenks climbed back where Wash usually sat, and Wash sat where Micho did.
The door to the LARA closed and the ghost fog of the morning was swallowed whole by the black clouds of smoke and ash from the flattened town. I thought about Walt's words back at Arizona Island. We headed off on a special mission to bail out allies to the south. I had no idea what the situation was there. All I knew was that we'd been blitzed by a large sized force from above and below. We were lucky. But as we all put readied our weapons, we knew many others hadn't been as fortunate.
In the northern distance, I saw countless flashes on the horizon. Several A-10s, perhaps the same A-10s who saved us earlier, buzzed the town. Above them were the momentary contrails of several screamers, perhaps F-15s.
Adrian was strangely quiet. Eric had a look of complete fury, as if he was wanted to fix his bayonet and go stab-happy on the Soma yet again. Allen hadn't nearly crashed our vehicle yet, so he was an automatic upgrade from Cameron for the moment. Chapman changed the weapon modes on his rifle, as if it was a cadence: burst, auto, safe, burst, auto, safe. Jenks put some chewing gum in his mouth and smacked it rather loudly. Wash had the same steely cold look he always had…but it was hollow really.
Micho wasn't there. His war was over. He could go home and see his beautiful son, but his life would be forever altered because of this war. I knew I'd be affected somehow, but all I carried were scars at the moment. Scars came and went. Micho had the lifelong loss of an extremity. Then again, maybe he was lucky.
I felt empty. I wasn't worried about dying myself…but I was empty inside. Then again, there was that pit of uncertainty.
What awaited us at Romeo Whiskey? Whatever was up there, there was only one guarantee. We had no idea what to expect at our destination except a determined enemy, no doubt galvanized by the assassination of their leader. We were heading into the vengeful flames of a relentless, cold-blooded enemy.
***
Tasha
Joint Forward Shock Trauma Unit, Arasi Sands – Severja Outskirts
September 13, 2037
1000 hrs
I spent a lot of time thinking about Xanthia.
I was alone in the hospital bed and my only company was the conversations of everyone around me. Ivanava wasn't even around much in the past few days. I missed her touch, her scathing views on the world, and mostly just her mere presence if only for a few lonely days. I heard rumors that Sorenson had a sister running around this place. It wouldn't have surprised me.
Then, of all people…Rico came wandering into my personal space yet again. That time, he didn't try to slit my throat or himself for that matter. He left as quickly as he ran in.
Some people spent a lot of thinking about the meaning of life. But to me, life was just a long period of loneliness broken up into huge and tiny chunks of family, friends, and lovers; mixed in are all these organic pictures of happiness and absolute misery. On top of that were both necessary and senseless routines; a countless amount of rules, written and unwritten. Through all that, you had to make your way through this confusing web of fluff that made life more complicated. But really, the main point of it was to do it as long as possible until you wound up in a grave…and many of us never got the opportunity.
The days of peace were coming to a close. In a few days I'd probably be sent back to my unit. The war, however, probably wouldn't be over by then. Not with the extremely high cas-evacs. Not in my area, but on the other side of the valley there were people scrambling towards Section Three, the main camp closest to the front. I'd heard all kinds of voice mentioning some huge battle in the middle of the northern desert.
I was glad that Musharak was waxed, but the Soma really didn't care. They wanted us dead and they stood in our way. They weren't going to stop.
Before, I was glad for the break from the conditions, after a few days…I really wanted to be back out there after just a few days of being on injured reserve…of sorts. Xanthia would have done the same; at least, that's what I told myself. I wanted to do something, anything other than lay around.
"We finally located it. We found the facility where Seelow Rot was really invented. But the Soma's elite troops are in control of it, last I checked."
"Then we have no choice. Gather everyone and get the word out. Operation Golgotha is now in effect."
"Yes sir, I'll get right on it. I've already arranged our transport out of here. But what about the…"
"It's already taken care of."
I had no idea what the hell they were talking about? Project Golgotha? Just as I thought that, a harried Kaida and Raji, along with several black suited armed guards (no doubt from Praetorian), rushed into the room and closed the door behind them. There was plenty of screaming outside and I could've sworn there was the sound of a gunshot or two. I sat up on my bed as quickly as I could and Kaida gave me a look that was more of a sneer than anything.
"What the hell's going on!?" I asked.
Kaida was covered in sweat and his hands shook, but whatever confidence he lacked…he didn't express it in his words.
"We're about to end this war. And you get to be a part of it."
What…the hell was he going on about? End of the war? Me…a part of it? Why me?
There were more screams outside. Condition One! Condition One!
For a moment, I thought that we were under attack. Certainly the gray suited man that ran into the room shared that sentiment. I got up from the bed and tried to locate any other clothes. The only thing I had on were the medical swab shirt and pants that well…weren't really clothes as much as they were pieces of blue-green cloth. I really didn't care about the lack of privacy at the moment. But as I did, I was grabbed by my arms by two of the guards and slammed me into the floor. My head ached, my back was killing me…
And I had a gun to my head…and swiftly, my entire world came a screeching halt. I turned my eyes to the suit wearing black man that entered the room. Now I was as sweaty as Kaida…but he began to towel himself off.
The gray suited man turned to Kaida. "Sir, Sorenson and her NSA friends…they made us! They just entered the base and have alerted the MPs."
What was going on? Was that why he was so desperate? What did Kaida do? What did Raji do? Was Zarolslav with them?
Kaida was angry. "I know that, Jackson! But how did they find out?!"
"I don't know. We need to get out of here, right…now!" said this…Jackson.
Finally, I got some courage. Air raid sirens were heard.
"What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted.
Kaida ran over to me. "Can you walk?!"
"What?"
He stepped on my hand and an pain of an anvil crushed my hand…and for a second I thought he'd broken all my fingers.
"Can you walk!?" he asked forcefully.
I was almost breathless. I honestly thought Ammon Kaida was going to kill me.
"I think…why? What are you doing!? What is this?!"
He took his foot of my hand and signaled his guards to back off. He picked me up off the ground. My hand throbbed. It didn't help that he whipped my arms around my back. All I felt next was the clicking of cold steel and my hands were immobile; all under the watchful eye of one of the black suited soldiers, his rifle, whatever the hell kind it was, pointing right at my head. And then I wished Brandon was there, and he would have known what kind it was…and the scene probably wouldn't be happening.
"Our plans have been discovered. You'll serve nicely as a hostage."
"Hostage?! What…"
But why was it happening? What did he mean by plans? It was clear that whatever Kaida and Raji had done or planned to do was something that could have gotten them killed. I didn't watch that silly Raven Bauer show much but this clandestine bullshit that Kaida and Raji were involved with…it fit the show perfectly.
And that word…hostage. It was enough to make my heart go into warp speed.
Kaida said, "It's strictly business. Don't take this personally."
Business! So that's what it was about! Buisness? What…did these guys get some huge offer for me? What if there was some secret organization that had something to do with this war? Or worse…what if they were working for the Soma? I'd heard rumors that mercenaries were involved with the Hazri's leadership. It was impossible to think about. And yet, it couldn't even be said for my worst nightmares because there was not a single horrifying scenario I could have made up that could have covered me being handcuffed and treated like a prisoner of war.
And where were the Marines and the Army personnel that were at the base? Did Kaida and his guys delay them somehow? How were they going to get away with this?!
But Sorenson had made them panic. It seemed that even though help was on the way, however, there would be a lot of bloodshed on the way there.
"Let's go!" Jackson said, "I hope you've figured out how we're gonna make the getaway clean."
"Oh…I wouldn't worry about that, my friend." Raji said. "I've got it covered."
His pathetic Osean twang…if I wasn't being dragged around as a human shield…I would have laughed. It was rather slick from that fat-assed traitor. For the only the third time in my life, I thought about murder. There was a large fusillade of gunfire heard as the guards grabbed me and Kaida started screaming out orders on some radio or a phone…something of that nature. My sweat was cold, my blood was equally solid and chilled.
It seemed Kaida and his bunch already beat me to the punch. The hospital zone was a rather general place. There was a lot of activity around this place. The entire areas was filled with bodies: the bodies of nurses, patients…Marine personnel…Yukes…a Praetorian Guard here and there…two little boys…
Children…
They killed everyone…
Silenced weapons all…
Even Rico…
I was dragged by the guards and I just happened pass by his body…he'd been shot at least seven times. But it seemed he took a few with him…
I got my wish after all it seemed. Maybe I shouldn't have thought about killing him myself. Bad karma…no, karma had nothing to do with this. I was sad, angry, and confused. My mouth and my face made all kinds of strange contortions as I was led around like a slave. I didn't know how to react…but I couldn't after all. If I made a move, I was dead.
We came around to the garage area…and suddenly, there was a door that opened and we found ourselves preparing to head underground. The access point was a large 60 yard opening in the ground…that wasn't there before. No one would have known it was there if it wasn't for one of the guards. He hit the switch somewhere and the large opening revealed itself to be a poorly lit, large concrete hill that led down into some kind of large tunnel. There were stairs on both sides of it but it was slanted at just the right angle to allow vehicles to drive down into it. It went down for what felt like a slow decent for probably almost hundreds of meters.
Now, I knew little about modern Yuktobanian history but I knew enough that the Yukes were masters at building underground bases and facilities.
(Brandon told me…but that's not the point.)
I shouldn't have been surprised, but fear made you do bizarre things like forget knowledge that was easily reachable. Kaida was a little confounded but Raji led the way. Raji was obviously the ringleader of this murderous plot. I couldn't even raise my emotions to anger. Another one of the guards pulled a truck around. Just as he did, the garage…or hangar door (whatever it was), opened.
I saw the emergence of dozens of friendly troops…and Helena Sorenson. For the first time in this ordeal…I was relieved. The others made moves behind cover. Kaida then took me and quickly threw me to the ground behind some kind of metallic shipping crate. There was a space underneath it about a few inches high and it was enough to see the light and a few feet. I was scared. I didn't move a muscle the entire time.
"Freeze! Weapons down! Put your hands in the air!" she shouted.
However, Kaida and his men prepared weapons and positioned themselves in certain areas behind the boxes. They weren't going to surrender. It was going to be a bloodbath.
I shut my eyes and my entire body tensed. I crawled further away, blind and hoped to whatever deity existed in the area that I didn't get killed.
"Raji! Kaida! You're under arrest!"
"I said weapons down! Hands where I can see them! Now!"
"What took you so long?"
"On what charge? You got nothing, bitch. You're already too late."
"I think I'm right on time."
"Well, time might run out for your little prodigy here if you take one more step."
"Let her go, this is between me and you. You kill her you won't make it out of this room…"
"Do you actually think you're gonna get away with this?"
"I already have. Kaida's been working for us all along. I represent certain…interests in the Yuktobanian government."
"You have five seconds to drop your weapons."
"I'll save you the trouble…open fire!"
The second triggers were pulled…I opened my eyes.
What happened next was nothing more than the screams of death, panic and fear; also, there was the furious, overlapping thunder of automatic weapons. The shell casings were all around me. They rolled through the openings beneath the shipping containers; they fell from the catwalks above where Kaida's men held the advantageous high ground. Raji's fat ass and ugly mug ducked behind cover like the coward he was. He laughed the entire time. If my hands weren't cuffed, I would have tried to strangle him right then and there.
There was a man who was killed and he fell on the other side of the metal crate. I could barely see his face, but I could tell his last moments weren't pretty. He'd been shot multiple times and one of his radios slid under the opening towards my way. I could hear the panic…and it was clear that the chaos wasn't exclusive to the garage.
"Apostle Two-Two, this is November Three! We're under attack! The main gate is under attack by Praetorian troops!"
"Apostle Actual to Two Three! We're taking fire from Loyalist units! Tell them to cease fire!"
"Apostle Three-Four, we've got multiple hostiles! The Loyalists…why are they engaging each other?! What the hell's going on!? The mercs are shooting at us!"
"Right on time." Raji said with a sinister smile.
The fire tapered off as I closed my eyes and tried to make it all go away…but I was still there and the blood of friendlies seeped underneath the crates. It seemed that was his mad plan. The entire base had turned on itself.
I was shaking. What did this mean for the war? What if Brandon was also being ambushed by these guys? What if he ran into a friendly Yuke unit and they just opened up on him.
No…this can't be happening.
This can't be happening.
This can't be happening.
It happened. I was picked up by two of the other guards…and I saw the carnage they left in their wake.
There were dozens of bodies, friend and foe scattered around the place. One of them, however, was not dead. That was Helena Sorenson. She was prone, propped up against one of the crates…with Kaida standing over her. He clapped his hands and one of the guards tossed him his gun.
Bang.
One shot ended her; a shot through the heart. This wasn't some TV show or a movie. There were no words exchanged, no dramatic ending. He didn't waste any time. It was almost as if everyone he conversed or worked with meant nothing to him anymore. She was the enemy now…and now she was dead…or at least I thought she was. I was too far away to see clearly. My brother would have, though.
This was the same person who called my dad a friend at one point…murdering someone my father talked to a few times in cold blood. Whatever villainy he plotted was unclear but whatever dark threshold there was had been crossed and crossed thoroughly. Ammon Kaida and Dr. Raji were officially the enemies…and I was their hostage.
I couldn't look anymore.
"Let's move." Kaida said. I was whipped around when I barely saw him pull out a radio or something, "Specter Eight Seven, this is Specter Actual. You may begin combat operations."
"Roger that, Specter Actual. Eight seven out." Raji stood in front of me, proud now…not hiding his sadistic, fat ass behind a dumpster or something. The guards held me by the arms…and Raji walked over to me and cleared the hair away from my eyes. It was then that all the rage and hatred boiled to the top. I wished I could have seen my face.
"My precious girl…you are about to witness the birth of a new age. Unfortunately…you must also be a sacrifice for the greater good." Raji said.
Greater good? Was that was this was all about? How? It was impossible. Murdering allies, innocent people, high ranking executives, and playing one of the greatest practical jokes in history? For what? For this? The greater good? All I knew what that Kaida and his men worked for the same corrupt people who only exacerbated the very first war my parents fought in. Or where they possibly the very Yukes we fought alongside?
What was Raji planning? Why was Kaida involved? Ending the war? How? Then Zarolslav's assessment of Raji was off…
You wouldn't know it from the outside…but Raji's a Jaair Yuke.
Like I said…agendas.
Was she even alive? What was Raji's angle? Revenge? Was Raji trying to wipe out his own people? No, that couldn't be, I thought.
You Oseans are never concerned about anyone else but yourselves.
It was all a lie it seemed. We'd been used just for a few to take power…and revenge, at least I guessed. The radio still continued to stir with the panicked voices of the topside guards.
"Apostle Two-Two, this is November Three! Where are you?!"
Raji continued coldly, "As your brother, well…he and the rest of his Marine friends will make their own sacrifice. In a few hours…they're going to have the surprise of a lifetime."
The second he brought up my brother…I spit in his face.
Raji made a hostile motion for me and smashed a pistol handle into my face. The guards let me drop.
Pain, the aches and obvious bruises were like hot objects against my skin. The guards moved in but Raji waved them off. They picked me up and I could feel the blood pouring out of my nose. Raji walked up to me and wiped some of the blood on his hand…and smeared it across his primary fingers.
"What a pity. It's a shame it had to come to this…but war is never kind to any of us. Your parents would know that more than anyone." So said the evil doctor.
"Let's go! We don't have a lot of time left." Kaida said.
A deathly fear came over me. The last thing I saw before I was dragged into whatever vehicle they were going to use was the vague motion of a many dead bodies, a moribund Sorenson and a river of blood. The last thing I heard before another rifle butt impacted my head was the panicked screams of whoever Apostle Two-Two was. The world, the future…it all became dark and I could only think of Brandon…and whatever terrible fate we'd both endure.
Next Chapter: Apocalypse