…

Pandora's Box

(A 'Last Alarm' Story)

Written by Poynton90 & Firemanjim

Chapter 2

Aftermath

Tokonosu Industrial Shipping Port,

Tokonosu Prefecture,

Tokonosu City,

Japan

3 Months after the Oceania Incident…

Along the perimeter of the shipping yards ran a tall fence, topped with razor wire that was already rusted and starting to fall apart after a lack of maintenance for the last five years. There were patches that ran the length that had been breached, allowing anybody or anything access to the port. Beyond the fence, a small gathering of the dead shuffled along after being drawn to the area by the sounds of heavy machinery. Their bodies decomposing and losing the ability to pin-point and figure out the exact location of the loud noises that was attracting them they would all begin pushing against the rusted fence until one of them found a breech point and once it fell through the hole the others were quickly following behind it. As the first that had fallen began to raise to its feet, it would fall to the ground as a dead weight a moment later. The others being undeterred by this, continued to pull and drag themselves to their feet or begin to crawl along the ground from where they had fallen only for them to meet the fate as the leader of the pack had only moments afterwards.

From a few hundred feet away atop a stack of conex containers lay two operators, both behind a pair of suppressed FN Mk.20 Sniper Support Rifle's. They had been watching the group of undead for the last several minutes and taking bets on which hole of the busted fence to access the port area. Having chosen the correct 'breech-point', Staff Sergeant Obromov handed over a packet of homemade beef jerky he had been saving to Corporal Hirano, "Thank you muchly," the young operator smirked as he plucked the clear plastic packet of beet strips and stuffed it into his hip pouch.

"As you should, that was going to be my lunch," the Russian muttered as he went back to scanned along the fence through the scope mounted on the FN rifle, "And I was going to share them with you, too."

"My god," Hirano shook his head lightly, "If you're gonna be that much of a sore loser, here," he said passing it back and tearing it open with his pocket knife, "Have some."

"Ohh, thanks," he said, digging his hand into the bag and happily liberating three of the larger pieces and leaving only the smallest pieces behind.

"Remind me never to make deals or bets with you again. Like, ever," the junior operator sighed and took the last pieces left and chewed on them as he continued to watch along the perimeter.

"Well, that is good. Because," Mikhail began as he removed three more identical bags from inside his own hip pouch and dropped them on the container between them, "When you made the bet, you never said about how many bags either."

"Sneaky bastard," Hirano chuckled.

"Hey, that's 'sneaky-Russian-bastard' to you, thank you."

"Point-Two, anything happening on your end?" their radios both sounded off at the same time seconds later.

"Point-One, this is Point-Two. We've downed eight infected foot hostiles, all inside the perimeter. Nothing along the exterior at this time."

"Copy that Point-Two. Point-Three, anything on your end?"

"Negative Point-One, all clear here. No infected, no movement of any kind, over."

"Roger that Point-Three," there was a brief pause before there was a follow-up, "Be advised, they're nearly finished with loading up the last of the supplies. They'll be storing the trucks soon and we'll be on the move back home shortly thereafter."

"We falling back to the LCAC now?" Mikhail asked over the radio, never taking his eye off the scope of his rifle.

"If your sectors are clear, yeah. I don't want us fucking around here any longer than we need to be."

"Copy that, we're packing up. See you back on the boat," the Sergeant quickly started gathering up the kit he had unpacked when they had arrived at their overwatch position while Hirano kept watch. Moments later he felt a tap on his shoulder, a signal that he was now being covered and was quickly able to gather his own gear and throw everything into his own ruck before grabbing up the SSR and headed towards the far end of the container where they had a hook-ladder set-up so they were both quickly able to descend down to the ground before making tracks towards where they would meet up with the rest of the team.

Mikhail allowed Hirano to take point, the younger operative now using his suppressed MP7 with the rifle over his shoulder, as he took the rear and made sure they weren't being pursued by the dead or otherwise. Every now and then he would look at the young man, go back to checking the surroundings and think about what the boy had been through in the last few months. After the Naval exercises in the Oceania region around Australasia, Melanesia, Micronesia and Polynesia that resulted in the loss of two Scepter operatives and several more being severely wounded, it had been Hirano that had become a target within the units. And it was all because of his relationship with Saya Takagi, the daughter of the current Prime Minister of Japan; Souichiro Takagi.

After it became public to the rest of the islands populace that two operatives had been killed-in-action because of inadequate preparation and lack of any doctors, nurses or even a surgeon aboard any of the ships except for medics that took part in the exercises and supply raids had quickly come with a lot of mistrust towards the council and the military support units. It was true that tempers had flared back in the beginning because the navy had repeatedly putting off vital repairs to the USS Bonhomme Richards propulsion and electrical systems, but some of the work needed had been impossible to complete without a large enough dry dock and large team of engineers with access to the appropriate tools, materials and machinery needed to carry them out.

But the damage had already been done. With mistrust sown into the colony of survivors and then the arrival of nearly thirty Australians and others as well too boot, one of them alone being blamed originally for getting the two men killed, didn't go over well with them either. Despite there being more than enough supplies and resources to keep the population going for at least another two years on MRE's alone it made a dent in the supplies with there no being more mouths to feed. With the mistrust aimed towards not only the council, but Takagi directly and everybody around him personally, it made operators within Scepter question Hirano as well and even his loyalty to the teams because of his relationship.

The kid had been lucky that Team-One had come to his rescue and defence when that happened. Mikhail remembered when Andrew had nearly gone toe-to-toe with Team-Three's leader when he had found out himself the man hadn't only tried going after a former SAS-R operative they blamed for the two deaths, but one of his own team mates and threatened to, quote; 'rip his fucking head off and stick it up his arsehole' if anybody dared try screw with his team.

The team leader had been on break the day the incident happened and slept through most of it, unaware that anything had happened until the others had come banging on his door nearly an hour after the V-280 that had brought the wounded back to the island. He had been understandably pissed afterwards too, not because of the incident with Hirano, but with his own wife. She had lied to him about what had happened. Maybe not intentionally since she had been told not to tell her husband, but it still hadn't helped he woke up to hear two of their people had died when it had been avoidable and that many others were injured and two of those no longer being able to carry on working in the teams.

It had been a stressful three months that followed. In the aftermath the USS Bonhomme Richard was pulled from operational service, her crew reassigned amongst the surviving American vessels in the fleet surrounding the island with some becoming permanently stationed on the island too. Repairs had begun two weeks on the electrical systems while the engines would require work when…if, they were able to locate and secure a dry dock to make such repairs, if they were even possible. Repairing the damage caused by the severe screw-up by the commanding officers of the ships that had forgotten to bring their medical personnel back aboard, apparently, led to them being removed from their current roles and placed on administrative leave for the foreseeable future as well as their place on the council.

And the trust within Scepter also needed work too. In the days after the incident and their return from Oceania, Team-Three had come to Hirano after a cooling down phase and expressed their deepest apologies to him. But unfortunately, it hadn't been something as simple as an apology an all was forgiven. The other teams had made it clear they hadn't trusted him after what happened merely because of his relationship with Saya, and not what he had done to prove himself personally and what he'd gone through to reach this position he held. All of that seemingly didn't matter anymore and it had taken the three senior members of the team to tell them to leave before they forced them to go.

"Hey guys," Rika's voice broke him from his inner thoughts and back to the present. Minami and Hirakawa both stood at the corner of a container with their suppressed carbines waiting for them to rejoin them. Ahead they could see they were only a few hundred feet to where the last of the trucks hauling food and medical supplies recovered on a recent raid had finally been unloaded and being driven away by one of the Recon Marines assisting them with this operation. The Raiders had come back to assist Team-One after they had grown tired of the hypocrisy spreading around the island about the Navy and wanted the people to see that they were pulling their weight, even in roles that seemed small and beneath them to prove they were still trying to make things better.

"Hey yourself," Hirano bumped fists with the Sergeants, "How're things here?"

"All quiet. Dealt with a few stragglers we'd missed earlier, but nothing we couldn't handle," Tajima nodded towards a small huddling of dead bodies on the ground nearby, "How about you?"

"Took down a few between us, nothing major. We really need to plug up those holes though," Mikhail had been making a point about the gaps in the perimeter for a while but nobody really saw it as a major security risk. He'd warned it would come back to bite them in the ass one day and he wouldn't take responsibility for it either.

"I think after this raid we're going to be locking down again for a few weeks until after that horde has passed through. If it continues at the current speed and direction, they'll be here a week from now," Rika then looked around and then back to the others, "Where are Andrew and James?"

"Ahh, I see. Well, I must thank you for your forewarning on their approach," The Grand Master Watcher spoke calmly as he stood with his followers, "We shall do our best to make sure that any survivors that happen to pass through the city know of the danger, hopefully before they arrive."

"That's all I ask of you, and thank you again for finding these supplies," Andrew said looking into the large pack the man had supplied him with and a large quantity pre-apocalyptic medicines that had been hard to come across in their recent raids, "And, as promised, something for you too," he in turn picked up a similarly matching pack and handed it to one of the Grand Masters followers, who took it and looked inside and showed it to the man who smiled in turn.

"Some of Mikhail's home brew, I trust?"

"Why you want the paint stripper, I'll never know. We managed to start brewing actual beer a few months back. If you want some of that instead you'll be more than welcome to some."

"We can always find ourselves most alcoholic beverages. But finding something of this strength is getting harder to come across." The Grand Master removed the plug in the large jug he'd removed from the pack and gave a faint sniff and smiled, "Hmm, that's good."

"If you say so buddy," James spoke for the first time as he looked at his watch, "Hey, we gotta head back. They'll have finished loading up by now."

The two groups parted aways a few minutes later after exchanged pleasantries. It had been a while since they had met up with the Watchers and give them their thanks. Over the last couple of months, the Watchers had kept an eye over the city for any signs of survivors and also hordes of the infected. Since the fiasco with the deaths of two of their operators, they hadn't been able to conduct operations in the city, never mind trying to search further inland because the military had heavily restricted their movements and benched all the teams. In that time, the Watchers had rescued and guided over eighty survivors, most of them arriving in groups and sometimes alone, to the island where they would receive permanent residency unless they wanted to remain on the mainland. While the odds and the numbers were against them it wasn't surprising how many people decided to refuse staying in one place.

"I know they mean well, but they're still a bunch of creepy fuckers," James said as they approached the port area.

"Maybe, but they are helping keep people safe that come through here and haven't given us any reason not to trust them." Andrew shifted his grip on the rifle he carried and walked towards one of the down pieces of fencing, shaking his head with a heavy sigh as he passed through, "They really need to do something about this."

"Hardly seems worth the effort," the SEAL replied, "With supplies becoming fewer and fewer every time we come out here now, we're gonna need to start branching our further. That'll mean taking aerial transport or the navy instead of just crossing with the boats."

"As long as the Marines and the S-D-F pull their fucking weight and the Navy hierarchies sorted their shit out for once, maybe," he looked back at the SEAL, "But until I hear from my mates aboard the carrier that they've sorted out their fuck up's, not happening."

James knew he didn't have to say anything more. The incident had torn apart the trust that had been built between Scepter and the other remaining departments of the military more so in the aftermath. Scepter operatives came from all the different branches, and as long as they proved they were the best of the best then they were accepted into the ranks. But when those same branches that supported them once started calling them out afterwards as pussies and cowards with remarks like 'oh, you only lost two people, get over it' it hadn't taken long before heated words were exchanged with fists trading punches. Probably didn't help when Andrew had called out the Marines as a bunch of 'crayon-crunching-cunts' before punching a Master Sergeant in the throat.

All that happened though was show peoples true colours. Scepter always showed comradery with the other groups and even remorse when they lost people in the field, but clearly it hadn't been a two-way thing and afterwards put forward a motion they would no longer work with any of the other units, with the exception of the Recon Marine Raiders as they had always had each other's backs. And in the weeks that followed it showed how much their assistance with the other groups, the Marines and the SDF, began to suffer without them. With Scepter no longer assisting them they had no reconnaissance information on the lay of the ground they were working on and began suffering casualties of their own.

It took time afterwards for any of the teams to work with either of the main forces again, and it still brought out a lot of bad feeling between them, but they would eventually learn to trust each other again.

"There they are," Andrew said as they approached and walked past a gathering of bodies splayed out on the ground, "Looks as though they had some much-needed target practice, too."

"After being benched for three months I'm not surprised they needed it," James looked at one of the creatures that was still twitching and slammed the heel of his boot down on its neck, the neck breaking with a loud snap before the movements ceased, "Two rounds in the head and still twitching".

After Scepter One had regrouped they boarded the LCAC with the Raiders after making sure the trucks had been firmly secured inside the warehouse, they made themselves comfortable where possible. Andrew watched Kohta as the lad removed the Mk.20 rifle from over his shoulder, dropped the magazine and removed the round in the chamber and replacing it in the magazine before placing it in a pouch on his vest and sitting the weapon down beside him. He was sat away from the others and knew already why. He passed by Jimmy, pumping fists with his friend, and planted himself down beside Kohta who jumped with a start, before settling down and seemed to accept his presence.

"Come on then laddie, what's the story?"

"You already know," Kohta murmured under his breath as he fiddled with a loose 9mm round from his sidearm, "People on the island still keep giving Saya and me grief."

"What happened wasn't your fault lad, or anybody's fault. And besides, that situation was dealt with and we resolved in inhouse, without fighting each other," he glanced over at the operator and could tell his words weren't really reaching him, so he decided on a more drastic measure. He opened the catches that attached his helmet and mask together and removed the large protective headpiece, careful not to break the wires connecting the built-in radio and camera, setting it down beside him and turned so he was facing him.

"What happened back then, when that all went down, was a bad and confusing time for everybody. Yeah, the navy messed up big time and the council dealt with the fallout pretty badly. And, yes, I was mad at them too for what happened and placed a whole hell a lot of the blame myself on both your father-in-law and Corporal Harding, and that wasn't fair of me either," bleeding his heart out to the lad wasn't something he would normally have done before, and especially not in front of the others, but felt this would help them both, "And that you two got flak for what happened too, that wasn't right. I'll make sure that from now on you two stop getting harassed for simply existing."

"How?"

"Want me to be brutally honest?" he asked in return.

"I suppose," Kohta shrugged.

"Because what happened that caused all of this to begin with happened to Scepter Three, it had nothing to do with the other people on the island, just them. All those people over there," he pointed to the large terminal building across the water separating them, "Have fuck all to do with what happens to us. As long as they get fed, they're happy as anything. We start getting killed off, they start worrying where their next meals coming from. That's why everything's so much worse off than it needed to be. They got wild up and in an uproar because word got out about the medical personnel not being on the ships. That's all. They couldn't give two-fucks what happens to us at the end of the day. So, fuck them, and I'll make sure that you don't get any more crap about it."

"Still didn't explain how though?"

Suddenly they heard and felt the LCAC roar to life as the pilots brought the engines up to power to start moving away from the ramp and back onto the main body of water. As they slowly started coming around, Kohta watched and noticed how Andrew smiled at him briefly before leaning back into the supplies they had found and closed his good eye.

"Wake me up when we get back," was all he said before he fell asleep moments later.

Three days later…

"You're fucking insane."

Andrew couldn't help but snigger as he heard Jim curse. It wasn't unlike the man to drop the odd F-bomb every now and then, but never had he said it with such meaning towards him.

"We're all a like insane or crazy to have stay in this gig for as long as we've all done," Andrew chuckled. He was sitting at the mission planning table as the Texan stood opposite him, both men now free of their combat gear and dressed more comfortably in shorts and T-shirts after showering and were looking over a map of the Tokonosu Baseball Stadium, contemplating a plan to draw the approaching horde that would be hitting Tokonosu within the next few days inside the massive stadium and blowing it all to hell with the dead buried beneath it.

"You do know places like this have structural supports that make them impossible to come down. With all the earthquakes this country suffers on a daily basis and after a good five, nearly six years of neglect, what makes you think we'll be able to take it down?"

"You, do realise who you're asking that, right?" the Brit smirked.

"Yeah, you're good with explosives, Andy. But this is gonna take more that a few blocks of C4 to handle."

"Who said anything about using plastic explosives?" he lit a hand-rolled cigarette and took a short drag on it, looked over his shoulder towards the hangers where a number of the F-35's, A-10's and other attack aircraft were placed after being removed from the Bonhomme Richard, including a single McDonnel Douglas AV-8B Harrier II armed with a pair of MK-77 incendiary bombs that had been recovered from a munitions storage depot after being removed from service years earlier.

"Jeez. And I thought you couldn't be any more sadistic," Jim sat down across from him and sighed heavily.

"They're already dead, mate. And we'll be doing them and the world a bloody great big favor too."

"How'd you reckon that then?"

"If there are any other colonies of survivors in the country that we don't know of end up on the receiving end of that lot and we didn't do owt about them, I'd feel pretty bad about having not done anything. But, this way, we trap them all in one generalized area and sweep away the lot of 'em."

"What were the last estimated numbers on the horde approaching the city?" Jim asked after a few seconds looking at the map before peering up at him.

"Last estimates from a fly over put a rough head-count at nearly two-to-three-thousand. And with their current speed and heading, they reckon some eighty-five percent will arrive in the city in four days from now with the rest possibly splitting off into smaller groups."

"And how do you plan on getting them all into the stadium?"

It was then that Andrew smiled at him and looked over his shoulder towards the gun cage, where they spotted Kohta working on their rifles, organizing and taking stocks of their munitions and other ordnance. He gave a sharp whistle and caught his attention and waved him over.

"The lad has a plan," he smirked as Kohta approached and stood at the end of the table.

"You needed something, sir?" Kohta asked quietly.

"We're off-duty, you can call me by my name ya know," and patted the end of the table, telling him to sit with them before turning back to Jim, "When we got back from the city the other day, we got talking about how we could draw them into our kill zone. Now, I figured we'd get a bunch of vehicles and hoot the horns, fire guns into the air, ya know, the American way."

Jim could only look at him with a blank expression before flipping him off, making Andrew smirk.

"However, laddo here came up with a better idea."

"I remember seeing something like this in The Walking Dead, back before it stopped being good," before noticing the looks both men were giving him that read 'I beg your pardon?' but ignored them and continued, "There was an episode where a group of bad guys were planning on using a truck that they'd rigged up with a large sound system to draw away some zombies that had surrounded their base. Obviously never got a chance to see it work in the show because the good guys smashed the truck."

"So, if I understand this right, you want to utilize a plan off a TV show where a plan was made-up, but never got to see if it worked?" Jim asked as he looked back and forth between the two.

"Aye, pretty much," Andrew said as Kohta nodded, "We know they're drawn by sound. Why wouldn't it work?"

"You're forgetting they're also drawn in by smell."

"With most of their faces rotten off by this point I doubt that'll be much of an issue. But we do have an idea about that too," he canted his head back towards the back of the hanger, indicating the large freezer unit they had brought into their recreational area a year ago for when they fished off the back of the building during their down time. Inside there was a bucket with fish guts and small off-cuts inside they used for bait and when left out in the sun it made a putrid stench.

"So, which units are taking part in this little OP of yours then?"

"Just us, small team in and out to draw the bastards in and then get the hell out before we signal the Harrier. They drop their ordnance and engulf the stadium with all those things inside. And we'll have wiped out a horde."

Jim then sat down across from him with a grunt and between the three of them they could already tell from the looks on the Texan's face he wasn't too sure or even fond of the plan.

"Not saying it's a bad plan, Andy. But what about if the fire from the explosion spreads and there are survivors nearby and they get caught in it?"

"We've been thinking about that, and we already have a plan in the works," he then looked to Kohta and motioned for him to sit before he continued, "We've already spoken with Souichiro about this. And after convincing him we can do this, he's given the go ahead for us to execute this plan. But we've got three days to get it done and if we're not ready by then it'll be called off."

"Why not have some of the jets do a fly over while they're all still outside the city limits?" Rika's voice called from the small gym and workout area of the hanger as she approached, wearing her sportswear and hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Would you rather have a wildfire spread across the open countryside or destroy a small part of a ruined city that's already falling apart?" Even with regular fragmentation munitions dropped from aircraft at 10,000 feet the SAS operative had seen his fair share of fires caused by ground pounder ordnance. Hence why he was so set on using the stadium.

"How soon can you get the rigged-up sound truck done then?"

"Already have something. There's a truck over in hanger five the S-D-F brought back years ago. They figured it would be good for transporting material until they opened the back up and found it filled with sound equipment. Bloody mobile disco truck."

"Does it work?"

"We've got a team looking it over now. A few faults because of how long it's been sitting without use but said it's an easy fix."

"I'd feel comfortable know we had at least another team backing us up," Rika commented from behind her husband as she put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting rub.

"Team's Three's out of action for the time being. Poor sods are still licking their wounds. Team Four might be able to help, but they were always a small recon team more so than an assault team like us and the others."

"So, it'll be Team Two then. You think Captain McCoy will work with us on this?"

"No reason that I can't think of."

"You're fucking Insane!"

"I've already heard," Andrew chuckled as he stood with the Team Two leader. Former United States Marine Corps Captain Sophie McCoy was stood wearing her old set of 'Boots and Utes' after working on her teams Up-Armored Humvee. He spotted numerous improvements with the armor plating, the tyres and even the rooftop mounted floodlights beneath the Mk.19 automatic grenade launcher, "You think you and your guys can render some assistance?"

"When's this suicide mission of yours going down?"

"Three days from now. Gives us roughly twenty-fours hours afterwards to commence the mission. That'll be our window to attack."

"If you need us there, we'll be there. We won't leave you guys hanging."

"I can't tell you how much you backing us up will help, thank you."

"It's alright. To be honest, we needed something to do. The guys were starting to get restless. I think they've gone through counting every single round of ammunition we have and neatly lay them back in the ammo cans."

"You think you can have you team ready for a combat op two, three days tops from now?"

A day before the operation and the teams would be ready to commence, three helicopters flew out towards the city of Tokonosu. Each of the Blackhawk helicopters had been modified with large loudspeakers so the operators onboard could blast warning messages to any survivors that could have been hiding or scavenging somewhere within the old ruins. They called in in Japanese at first, before the translator switched to Mandarin, then English, then Russian and finally Korean. There was no telling where any survivor they rescued or warned came from, but it was thought best that everybody had to be given an equal chance of survival and not listen to foreign ramblings anybody that spoke or knew a different language could have thought whoever was aboard the helicopters were simply giving weather reports.

The plan was simple; they would arrive at the Tokonosu industrial docks via LCAC in the early hours the following day with two heavily armed Humvee's, a deuce-and-a-half truck carrying their specialized equipment and Kohta's rigged-up boom-boom truck with the fully functional sound system ready to go at a moments notice. They would then drive to the old baseball stadium, clear the field of any hostiles present and then and sweep and clear the interior structures and seal off any doors or other forms of entrance and exits so when the dead they hoped to draw inside would remain trapped and holed up inside after being drawn in by the sound truck before the AV-8B dropped its incendiary payload with the A-10's following afterward with their Mavericks and 30mm cannons to finish the job.

The sound truck though was only half the plan. To get the couple of thousand undead from the edge of the city to the proposed killing ground, they needed to draw them directly towards the stadium if the music didn't carry far enough. Another idea Kohta had come up with, or rather borrowed from another TV show, was to use a series of explosive charge they could remotely detonate along the desired path towards the stadium and within range of the music truck. Since he knew that Kohta's handling of explosives was still minimal Andrew and James both offered to assist with crafting several devices they had both encountered and disarmed or destroyed themselves when in the Middle East. Over several hours between them came a small pile of large steel pipe bombs that were all neatly laid out on the table. Even with nearly forty years of training between them it was still stressful to be handling producing ordnance they were planning on using.

"You know the worst I-E-D was I ever defused?"

"That one in Kandahar, right? Large cluster of tank shells all wired up together buried under a dirt road?"

"Yeah, that's the one," James said just as he finished sealing the final casing and sighed after gently setting it down on the table beside the others, "That was one of several made by this one asshole bomb maker, who turned out to be some fucking kid no older than fifteen-year-old."

"Didn't one of your lads slot the little cunt?"

James huffed, "I wish. Nah, couldn't. Regular Army boys and their engineers were with us to clear the place. I was ready to put a round in the back of his head myself until a fucking Major came in and spoiled all the fun for us."

"Must've been thinking of some other little wanker then," Andrew was measuring the powder mix and making sure they were correct before he carefully started pouring them into the pipe, "I know mine."

"Northern Ireland," the SEAL stated, knowing all too well how the SAS trooper came about his dashing good looks he often claimed he had.

"Yep. And I tell you what," Andrew paused as he finished assembling his final pipe bomb too, "That whole campaign we fought against the I-R-A; fucking waste of time, the whole thing. Not worth how many of our lads got hurt or killed for…whatever it was we were fighting for."

"Can't remember, huh?"

"Bit hard sometimes to remember the faces of the lads I lost when this fucking mess happened," he waved towards his own face, "Stiles and Bauer, good lads. Bloody well wished they were here now."

In another part of the hanger, far enough away from where the SAS and SEAL operatives were constructing their explosives, the rest of Scepter One were preparing their gear and making sure everything that needed batteries had then and everything else was either fully charged, reloaded and mission ready. Jim and Rika were both loading magazines of subsonic rounds for their Mk.12 Special Purpose Rifles and sidearms while the others were making sure their magazines for their rifles were fully topped off and tucked snuggly into vest pouches.

"Honestly, what do you think of our chances?" Rika pulled her partner from his thoughts as she finished loading a magazine for her suppressed MP7 machine pistol.

"It seems a solid plan. But they rarely survive contact with the enemy." Jim had his doubts about the operation and the cause behind it from the beginning when Andy explained it to him, but seeing how they were all now throwing themselves into mission preparations made him realize just how fucking stupid this whole thing was.

"Well, at least these assholes won't be shooting at us," she smiled at him, "Besides, we have Scepter Two backing us up now and their extra manpower and firepower will be a big help."

"So, you have no doubts about this whole thing whatsoever?" he asked her.

"Of course, I do. I'd be crazy if I didn't have some concerns. I mean, why don't we just drop bombs on them while they're outside the city? Why blow up a perfectly good stadium we could reuse somewhere down the line if we retake the city?"

"I don't think they've thought it through properly, and right now they're just trying to get some positive P-R about us around the island. It's not even us that need it."

"Yeah, true. But you know how much crap Kohta and Saya have had to go through recently because of what happened. It's more so for them than their folks, and you know I'll do anything for this team."

"Careful with those words, sweetheart," he spoke with a cautious tone of voice, "You may end up living to regret them."

Across the way, Kohta was sat looking down at a map of the city of Tokonosu and the approaching roads and freeways leading in and out of the city. He had lived in the region his whole life and rarely left it for anything other than when he used to travel aboard those few times with his mother because of where her work took her when she used to fly off to London, Paris, New York or Los Angeles for her fashion and designer shoots and shows. He knew almost every nook and cranny of the city block-by-block, but for something as big as this he wanted to make sure that they got this right the first time and not fuck it up. There was a lot of pressure riding on this mission, but if the result that came from it was worth what they hoped for…he had to try.

"You are worried."

Mikhail's voice made the young operative break his stare from the map and release a heavy sigh he hadn't known he was holding in and looked up towards the Russian operative, "What gave me away?" Kohta asked as he watched him finish loading a magazine for his SIG rifle.

"How you are hunched over that map. I can see the tension in your shoulders and how you didn't blink for nearly two straight minutes. I don't even think I've seen some of our best snipers go that long without having to blink at least once or twice."

Kohta said nothing but smiled instead and leaned back in his chair and motioned for the man to join him, "It just seems too easy."

"These types of missions are usually the best then. A simple objective with a simple set of instructions. It's only when they start getting more complex that we need to worry. This is a simple case of getting the dead from here-to-here," he dragged his finger across the map from the freeway to the stadium.

"And then the pilots do the rest for us."

"That's the plan. We draw them into the killing zone with the bombs and music, gather as many of them up inside as we can and send the signal. So, stop worrying, we've got this."

"But, what about-"

"If you're still worried about what the people here on the island think afterwards…don't. They're all nothing but a bunch of craven cunts who are too lazy and pathetic to do anything about anything themselves and do nothing but whine and complain. Fuck them."

Kohta couldn't stop the smile from creeping back onto his face afterwards and was grateful for Mikhail's support.

"Thanks…brother."

"Anything for my team mates."

"Alright. Let's make sure everything's locked away for tonight. I don't want anybody coming in here after us and fucking around with our prep." Scepter Four was due to take over that evening and the last thing they wanted was for a group of bored operators to mess around with their gear. Andrew and James had already sealed away the explosives and detonators separately while the other helped Kohta with packing the rest of their gear in the Humvee's Scepter Two would be using as their support team. One of the Up-armored Humvee's had been modified with a weapon upgrade. Before they had been fitted with a pair of Mk.19's, but for when they needed additional firepower one had been removed from the second vehicle and now had a large GAU-19 gatling gun attached.

"You think they're compensating for something by keeping all the big guns for themselves," Kohta chuckled. Since Scepter Two was the Scepter groups main support team they held a number of the larger weapons in their own arsenal separate from the others from belt-fed machine guns, large caliber sniper rifles, rotary cannons and automatic grenade launchers to wire-guided launchers. They even had a working UGV prototype they had scavenged when they had acquired the SB-1 and V-280 and took the robot with them almost anytime they were on a mission.

They were due to depart at oh-six-hundred the following morning to begin preparation for the dead's arrival. As soon as the they touched down in the city, they were to split into two teams, one to sweep and clear the baseball stadium of hostiles and secure it while the others set up the devices to keep the dead attracted and focused on going to the stadium. The helicopters would be heading out again just after sunrise before their departure, giving a final warning that military operations were about to begin and if they were able to head to the waterfront and signal for help or to leave the city before they began. As the teams split up for the evening with some heading off to supper and others to shower Andrew walked outside with Jim close behind him.

He plucked a cigarette from the crumpled packet in his pocket and even though he knew it would be rejected he still offered one to the Texan. For a brief moment his friend seemed to think about it before turning it down. They stood in silence for a few minutes as they watched the ground teams working on the Harrier and the two A-10's on the runway down the far end of the island in preparation for the big event tomorrow.

"You think this'll change peoples' minds about us and the council after tomorrow?"

"We've done nothing wrong," Andrew had to reaffirm, "We weren't the ones who fucked over anybody else. It was the council and the navy, and all of this is to try and stop all the bullshit from carrying on and try and get us back to normal."

"Yeah, I know that. But what if they don't?" Jim asked.

"Then fuck 'em," Andrew had wanted to say that from the beginning like Mikhail had earlier to Kohta, "Besides, like I said before. We don't stop that horde here it may come across another group much-less defended and well off as us and slaughter them. Best to end them here and now while we can."

"I thought all you cared about was what the people here thought," the Texan smiled as they watched a large vehicle approach the aircraft with their ordnance.

"Well, I guess I care and worry too much about their crap and needs than I do about us and myself. Anyway, screw them. If after tomorrow their thoughts don't change then they can-"

Their conversation was cut short when they noticed some of the workers of the field stopped moving and were looking in the direction of the city across the water. They briefly looked at each other and walked around the side of the large hanger and peered out across the open waters to see a red flare hanging in the night sky as it slowly started to descend.

"You think it's survivors?" Jim asked him, but neither of them were sure. There were numerous signs placed up and down the water front with directions on where to find signal flares to summon assistance.

"Maybe. If it was the Watchers, they'd use the radio we gave them. I'll go and give them a call and see-"

"Wait! Look!" Jim called Andrew back after he'd started moving towards the hanger and looked just in time to see multiple flares now shooting up into the sky and bursting in red blooms along the waterfront.

"Oh shit."

Author's Notes:

I've written this chapter and rewritten it so many times I'd about given up on it altogether. Thank god I've managed to keep some sanity this last few months. Yeah, four months since an upload. Sorry about that guys and gals. All i can say is that my job is frustrating as hell at times guys and the overtime i've worked this last week alone could easily pay for me to get a Playstation 5 if i wanted one. But yeah, i hope you enjoyed the chapter folks and i really do hope to have the next one out much sooner because the next chapter is when it all starts going down hill, and then things get interesting.

Anyway people, y'all please keep safe out there and look after yourselves and i'll see you next time!

P.S: Don't go into retail work folks. Seriously, it fucking sucks.