The orange glow cast by the sinking sun reflected oddly off the helicopter's sleek, black sides, reminding JR of a dramatic painting he had once seen in a museum. The work of art depicted a horrific battle scene in which fear, hate, and hope came to life through a broad range of oil paints and the artist's careful brushstrokes. These same feelings were roused in JR, filling him with tension as he stepped quickly across the tarmac, conscious of every passing moment. Vincent walked beside him, matching his nervous pace step for step. JR glanced at him, noting the grim determination in his brother's eyes. He had volunteered to lead troops into the heart of Antarctica, and vowed to avenge once and for all the deaths that Wonka had caused. JR tried to force down the unease that was rising in him, but he feared greatly for his brother. They would be risking many things in following through with the decision to make war in Antarctica; all the countries of the world had long ago made a pact that declared that Antarctica would remain a weapons-free zone; the penalty for breaking such an ancient pact could be dire. But that rule has already been broken. JR reminded himself, referring to the recent failure on the part of Captain Monteux and his men. The recon team had confirmed Vincent's theory of the location of Wonka's hiding place. Though none of the men had returned, they had sent a single transmission through which JR's technicians were able to trace the origin. Using a GPS system, they pinpointed a large crevasse nestled in the heart of the great plateau that formed the heart of Antarctica, a secure location that was shielded from the eyes of the casual observer. But the Chadworths were no casual observers; their men had either been captured or killed in that hellhole; it had now become JR's sole desire to take revenge for his losses and even the score with Wonka.
Willy Wonka watched in idle interest as the sun made its descent past the horizon, observing the growing shadows that began to stretch across the ice. It was almost time. Wonka glanced behind him, checking to make sure that everything in the launching bay was ready to go. Finding everything satisfactory, he resumed his watch, gazing out of a reinforced window at the barren landscape. The sun dropped steadily; as soon as it had left the visible sky, the world turned dark, as if someone had snuffed out the lights. The only thing visible beyond the window were the faint, dusk-like glow of the sun that would remain just below the horizon for a whole season, and the glittering points of the stars. It was time. Wonka walked over to the control panels for the hangar, and input a command code. Instantly, Oompas dove into action, clearing the area. A giant panel in the ceiling slid back, revealing the dark sky. After a fifteen-second countdown, the rockets attached to the great craft in the center of the chamber began to expel smoke and flames, propelling it up from its resting place and into the reaches of space. Soon after this, two lesser rockets, providing thrust for vessels containing the first Oompa-astronauts, lifted off as well, soon becoming little more than bright specks against the black velvet of space. Wonka, gazing upward, grinned at the successful completion of the first launch. But there was still more to be done; the astronauts had yet to assemble and engage the Space Factory, and of course there was still more knowledge to be acquired through excessive studies. But for the moment, Wonka was satisfied with this accomplishment, knowing that someday, it would be vital to his survival.
The chopper's wheels touched down, coming to rest in the center of the oversized "H" that had been marked on the helipad. The two Chadworth brothers exited the vehicle, standing regally toward the side of the platform. Langford came to meet them, dignified in his posture, though he didn't seem too happy to be seeing JR again so soon. JR, wearing a livid expression, spoke. "Your men failed, Wes."
Langford's face changed from a peach color to a deep red. But before he could explode and unleash his anger on JR, Vincent stepped in between them.
"Yes, Langford," he said silkily, "Your men did fail. But that was not any fault of yours. No, not only did they play on an unfair field, but they were a small team fighting against the unpredictable."
Langford seemed to calm upon hearing Vincent's soothing voice. The reason he restrained himself was not because he needed coddling, but because he sensed the strength and cunning underlying Vincent's tone. Upon further examination, Langford noted Vincent's imposing countenance and confident bearing. This was not a man he would be willing to meet in battle. Langford, suppressed by Vincent's presence, complied immediately, almost keenly when JR asked to assemble an army to be sent south.
"Who will be leading them?" Langford asked, bitterly remembering that his close teammate Monteux had perished in the last venture against Wonka. JR glanced at his brother, who stepped forward.
"I will." Langford gazed steadily at him, not doubting in any way that this man was qualified for the job. But he had to be sure. "Sir, with all due respect, I would have to refuse. You are, after all, the son of the founder of this organization. He hired us to serve him and his family…not for you to serve with us."
Vincent had been smiling as he had come forward, but now his expression changed to a chilling glare. "Is there anyone else more qualified to lead his own men into battle than someone who has gone up against the enemy once before?" Vincent drew a hidden blade and grappled Langford in a headlock in one swift motion.
"I have led hundreds of men against impossible odds, Langford. I have killed, and have seen my men being killed before my very eyes, listening to their screams of terror and not being able to do anything about it. I have stalked my prey in darkness, in every extreme form of weather. How can you possibly tell me that I am not fit to lead?" He released the terrified Langford, who stumbled to the side, where he was borne up by an assistant. Vincent stood straight, and pointed to an aide. "You, assemble the troops, the maximum amount. I want them briefed and ready for action within the next thirty-six hours." The aide nodded, and dashed off to accomplish his directive.
JR turned to Vincent. "Well handled, brother."
Vincent nodded briskly. "Thanks. But I have been wondering. How are we going to get nearly three thousand men to Antarctica?"
JR didn't reply, but instead motioned for Vincent to follow. They travelled up alongside the cavern wall using a system of ramps and platforms. When they had reached the highest point, JR turned and walked into a passageway that led out to the top of the cliffs which enclosed the fortress. The sun was at its apex, reflecting brightly off the ocean in the distance. JR pointed in the water's direction, and Vincent followed with his sight, shielding his eyes to lessen the glare. Anchored in the distance were three aircraft carriers, massive ships that were undeniably capable of causing extensive damage. Vincent nodded, his question having been answered. But even as he was agreeing with his brother, a dark thought crossed his mind. What if even this is not enough to destroy Wonka?
JR smiled. "Would you like a closer look?"