Chapter 25.
This was getting a bit 'normal'. I want to put him back in the place of criminal again. He still is a young criminal, and in this chapter, I try to put that in evidence.
Okay, now this chapter took me some time to do and I want you to know that what you are going to read is not just invented, but those weapons truly exist. Now, I invented that the Russian empire is, like, humongous HUGE. A very very powerful country (military forces . . . weapons and all the other bla bla). Put that in your head while reading this chapter.
By the way, this chapter is slightly a bit a lot . . . euh, bizarre and far fetched.
**********
Walking down the hall, Nathan had finally decided to go out of his room after having figured out that it couldn't be that bad if he just avoided eye contact.
He was wearing his usual pair of baggy jeans, a long sleeved shirt and his fang necklace. He was also holding his trench coat with one hand, his other occupied by a shoulder bag. Some people would have find it strange to see someone with a trench coat when it was nearly July, but it wasn't really because all summer was expected to be relatively cold in the state of New York. The coat, the bag and the pair of blue-lensed sunglasses on the top of his head all clearly indicated that he was going somewhere. All the students were in class by now, and so he didn't risk being seen by anyone. He had heard that they might all go out during the afternoon, on an outing somewhere in New York. This was good news because this way, Max would be occupied and wouldn't go back to his room and notice that he was gone. The only real problem was the professor who would most probably ask questions. I mean, he was a psychic after all.
He passed the green house Ororo was using as a class, glimpsing inside to see Max sitting next to Bobby and John, and they were visibly having more fun in talking than paying attention to Storm's class. Nathan smiled. At least his friend was happy. When they had left Ontario together, he had been afraid that his friend wouldn't like life on the road. But he was happy.
"If I leave, at least he'll be safe and in a good place," Nathan thought soberly.
He spotted Kitty and Rogue in the back of the class, sitting on either side of Jubilee. Both were taking notes and paying no attention whatsoever to anything else. His smile slowly faded away.
Girls. Always a problem when there is more than one.
He sighed, before walking pass the door and continuing his way. His objective was to arrive in the garage without being seen, take his car and go down town to exchange it against another one. Keeping the same car for too long wasn't his style. He had to change it every five to six weeks. Sometimes, it was because it was a stolen car, but that's another matter.
He arrived in the garage without any major problem and spotted his car rather easily. He took a few minutes to admire some of Scott's, or rather the school's, cars and then opened the garage door, admiring his own car for a moment before putting on his sunglasses and jumping into the driver's seat. He pushed a CD in the CD player and drove off towards the school property's gates. They opened immediately at his car's approach, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator the second he was on the street, the wheels leaving a long black trail behind him.
"Time to relax, and work," he said to himself, opening his car window. "New York, here I come."
***
Nate arrived in New York around noon. He went directly to a car dealer he knew very well, and exchanged his BMW for a Porsche. He had chosen it red.
After that, he decided to go have a hot dog because, first of all, he didn't want to take off his sunglasses to freak people out, so he couldn't go into a restaurant, and second of all, eating outside something not expensive was a good deal.
It was to say, being alone and knowing that he wouldn't be deranged let him think much more clearly. He spent a few hours in Central Park, walking around and thinking about his friends, his mutation and his future.
In the middle of the after noon, he decided to go to the museum. Museums had become his favourite outing place at a very young age, when his mother had brought him to an art and statue exposition, back in Ontario. He had just plain loved it. He had kept visiting some over the years, and he had often visited this museum when he had stayed in New York, with Max.
Walking into the tourist-filled marble hall, he went directly towards the painting section. He admired many before finally choosing to sit on a bench, in the impressionist gallery, in front of Monet's Lilly Pond painting. He looked at it for a very long time without doing really anything, paying no attention to the old folks passing by, wondering if he was the last teenager on earth to admire a painting. Slowly, he took out a CD player and headphones, then a sketch book and a pencil. Looking at the Monet again, he turned on his discman, looked at his sheet of white paper and started drawing, copying the image in front of him.
While doing that, he thought, barely listening to his music, completely ignoring the people around him.
Fiteen minutes passed as he just kept looking at his sheet of paper and the painting in front of him. Occasionally, he looked around the room, just verifying that everything was clear and that no one was going to bother him.
***
Looking at his watch, Nathan saw that it was almost four o'clock. He looked bat his drawing, which was worthy of great respect. The image was very well copied, even if unfinished.
Nathan really wanted to stay longer in the museum, but his clients were probably already waiting. He didn't like making them wait, because he was always risking to loose a deal.
Nathan reluctantly rose from his seat, picked up his bag and his cloak that he had placed next to him. He walked quickly towards the nearest exit, slipping his glasses in front of his eyes.
He stopped in front of the statue section, wanting to get a glimpse of one of their new treasures: a magnificent horse dating from the Persian heir, from 600 before Christ. It was a splendid statue, even if a part of it's face had been damaged through the years.
Many tourists surrounded Nathan as he tried to get a clearer view of the beast. Suddenly, while nearly reaching the red cord separating the exposition from the visitors, Nathan saw a couple of familiar faces on the other side of the statue, talking with one of the guards. He was sure he had seen those two stocky men, around the age of forty, wearing identical suits. Shaking his head, Nathan turned around and started walking towards the exit.
He walked outside of the museum, and skirted on the sidewalk towards his car's parking space, about half a block away. When he arrived to his car, he just entered it, beeped at a taxi and zoomed in front of him before he could pass his parked car. He could almost see the taxi man's white face as he passed millimetres from an accident. The taxi started beeping furiously and Nathan just smiled wickedly.
It faded away as soon as the beeping stopped. Why had he done that? In normal time, he just would have waited his turn to pass into the road, but now, he just felt like breaking every driving rule he knew. Just for fun.
"I'm still here," a voice reminded him in his head, making him frown.
He turned on the CD player, putting the music extremely loud, just to block out the voice. He had noticed that he could only hear it when there was silence for too long or when he thought of it, and when he did, the only thing that would make the voice inaudible was music, put full blast. It was another reason he was beginning to like going out of the school. He couldn't put the music too high in his room because of everyone else in the school.
It took Nathan about ten minutes to arrive up to the library, and five more minutes to find a parking place where he knew no one would steal his car. Finally, he jogged up the library's main steps and pushed open one of the large oak doors.
There was only one word for this place. Huge.
Filled with straightly lined wooden bookshelves only reaching half way to the ceiling. There were ladders, also made of wood, there to facilitate the books on higher shelves' reach. There were balconies on either side of the room, on which were even more shelves filled with pilled up books.
Nathan walked up to the front desk, behind which an old lady sat, her greyish white hair tied in a tight French pleat. Her clothes, like herself, were clean, proper and strict. She looked up from her work and looked at the boy in front of her, giving him a 'why-are-you-actually-coming-in-a- library-you-spoiled-brat' look.
"Hello, could you tell me where I could find the computer room?" he asked, without taking off his glasses, chewing his gum.
"Follow the medical aisle then turn left in the second history aisle. It's at the end," the lady said, going back to her work.
"Thank you," Nathan said briskly as he started walking in the designated direction.
He arrived there a few minutes later, forced to stop in the science row to verify if there was not a new mutant gene book he could read, trying to get as much information, as always.
"I'd like to go on the Internet for maybe twenty minutes," he said to the man watching the computer room. "How much would that cost?"
"Three fifty," the man said. "Take the fourth cubicle on your right."
Nathan looked around as he started walking.
What was fun in this computer room was that everyone was placed in their own cubicle and could do anything they wanted without being watched. The cubicles, unlike everything made of wood, back in the library, were of white plastic and seemed brand new.
Nate sat in his chair in front of the computer in the fourth cubicle. He pressed the Internet logo and a page flicked up. He typed an address in the specified line and another page replaced the first one, showing the main page of a chat room. He entered his user name and code and entered one of the multiple chat rooms.
One of his clients was there.
He was code-named Alcatraz. He was another one of Mother Russia's street- born rebels working against their government. He was actually doing a good job in trying to liberate his country from the dominant dictator, Ivan Carlovesky who was literally freezing his people to death by rising the heating price. He used the country's force to exchange great weaponry with other countries, illegally. No one had enough proof to set him down, and he couldn't be removed from his governmental status. There were too many signed papers proving that he was Russia's main ruler, and it was to say, what he was doing with the country's great forces was terrible. Terrorists could bargain with him for his military hardware, which was one of the most developed in the world.
After months of coaxing people on the Internet, Nate had arrived to make one of his part time colleagues hack into the chat room to identify who Alcatraz really was, and he realized that Silent Night was working for him. His name was Michael Romanov, the son of a commoner living in Moscow, wining his life as a politic secretary for the government. We guess it is from his father that Michael got to know so much about what was going on with his country's political affairs. Alcatraz had seven younger brothers and four sisters, that all followed him into the depths of anarchism after his father's murder when he was eighteen. He brought his mother to London, where he helped her take care of his family. Once his father's name was almost completely forgotten when he was twenty-five, he returned to Moscow with one of his brothers, carrying very important details of his country's affairs of state. Scared, the government sent people to murder him, but he escaped with a bullet in the back. Once he was nursed back to health, he gathered people together, creating an anarchist group trying to infiltrate the Russian Maffia to let his country regain a certain composure. It was nearly drowning in criminal activities, and Michael wanted to remedy this.
Nate also discovered that three of Alcatraz's sisters were secret agents working for the KGB, but were actually under-cover agents for their brother. Nate knew that if the KGB discovered who they really were, they would be executed.
The rest of his brothers were all with him, except for two who had died under the government's bullets. The two other sisters were secretaries at the government by day, part of Michael's rebel group by night.
Michael was now married and had three children. Nate supposed that his family was in Germany, France or England, because he kept moving around these countries, Moscow being too dangerous for himself and his people.
Bait Hunter,
My country's government is now exchanging weaponry with Iraq ad Israel, to use against the American or English forces without they, or Russia's knowing. In order to prevent a great conflict, I must ask your help once again.
Alcatraz
Nathan read the message quickly, not very surprised by the news. Iraq, Israel and other Arabic counties were all against the three countries that had brought them down (U.S., England, Russia) . He replied
Alcatraz,
Talk. I am listening.
Bait Hunter
Less than a minute later, there was a fairly long response that appeared in Nathan's screen.
Bait Hunter,
I have depended on you several times for numerous things that have helped me greatly. Fake identities, papers or even sophisticated machines, all you could provide. For that, I can only guess that you have great power or a remarkably psychologically gifted criminal mastermind, or even both.
Now, what I am going to ask you might be considered as a far greater thing to ask, and I would understand if you couldn't provide it to us. But if it's greater, you know that the money is too.
What I need is your help, and knowledge.
I am a revolutionist, and I want to bring back my country to power, as it was a decade ago. For that, I must destroy Carlovesky's foces, because he is the one causing so much damage to my country. I cannot simply kill him, because his son, an even more dangerous tyrant would be given the power. I need to scare them, give them a lesson and bring back Mother Russia, saving her from both Carlovesky and Iraq. Iraq could turn back on their allies, Carlovesky, and bombard Moscow.
I have a plan, but I will greatly need your help. I have discovered twenty two secret military bases across Russia, that Carlovesky has activated, for the trade with the south and for other things that I am not aware of. One of these bases, located near Siberia, holds five of the most potent weapon of the Russian arsenal. I am talking about MIG-25s.
I intend to get those weapons, and others similar to them to destroy the other bases, and force Carlovsky out of power.
I need your help for that.
Alcatraz
Nathan removed his sunglasses that he had kept for some reason, and re-read the message, feeling his mouth go dry.
"Holy Shit," he whispered to himself, leaning in his chair, staring at the screen. This was a very big job. Maybe even too big for a teenager like him. He typed a response, just to see if what he thought MIG-25s are.
Alcatraz,
When you say MIG-25s, you mean that you intend to steal, right under the government's nose, five twin-engine jets Missile-launching planes with the speed of Mach 2,8 , capable of ceiling up to 80,000 ft. and capable of carrying 4,400 lbs. As you said, the most potent weapon of the Russian arsenal, one of the most sophisticated military jets in the world.
Bait Hunter
Nathan waited incredulously for a response to that.
Bait Hunter,
Yes. I see you know a lot about military weaponry, and so I am unafraid to add that we also intend to use a multiple orbit bombardment system which is a weapons system utilizing warhead-carrying satellites. For that we will use long-range missiles with multiple warheads that can be targeted separately.
I can assure you that those weapons are only used for the good of my country.
Alcatraz
Now Nathan was nearly as white as his cubicle's wall. This was a very very very big deal. It took him another few minutes to regain composure and write back.
Alcatraz,
You intend to use ICBMs to neutralize completely Carlovsky's forces. I guess you have already located his other bases in the surrounding countries? If for that, I must remind you that ICMBs are to be taken very seriously. You don't want an intercontinental ballistic missile to land at the wrong place. And second of all, ICBMs are extremely well protected by their countries. I mean, there is a system for those nuclear missiles. We never know where they are. They are constantly moved so to avoid providing a knowable target.
Bait Hunter
Nathan got a response, explaining further on Alcatraz's plan. He was offering eighty millions for Nate's help, and if made Nathan sigh with depression as he didn't even know that he was only eighteen! He responded that he needed time to think about all of this. Alcatraz gave him two months to decide if he was in.
Nathan disconnected his computer and exited his cubicle. It was clearly visibly that he was in a shock trance since even the man taking care of the computer room asked him if he was all right.
Nathan walked back to his car, almost forgetting to put back his sunglasses. He drove back to the school and went up to his room without being asked any question by anyone. They were almost all out to the movies or something.
He locked himself in his room a sudden headache taking him again as he tried to think clearly about what had happened in the chat room. He knew he was too young and inexperienced to get into all of that mess. If he got in, he couldn't get out but it looked . . . somewhat fun. Exciting. All Nathan wished t have.
The voice started in his head again.
"I am you . . . we are the same self . . . I am going to get you . . . use you . . . twist you the way I please . . . I know you know you want to help Alcatraz . . . be in the action . . . kill . . . admit it . . . you love to kill . . . and I tell you, some one here is going to die . . . maybe because of you . . . I will take over you . . ."
"Shut up!" Nathan yelled grabbing the side of his head.
No. I want peace. I want quiet. I want my life back, the way it was before you came . . . the voice, always the voice. He was sick of it.
A long time after, he fell asleep with two words in his head: Kitty . . . Rogue . . . Kitty . . . Rogue . . .
**********
A bit far fetched with the Russian thing, maybe? What do *you* think?
For those who are history lovers, like me, and realized that Michael Romanov was the name of a real Russian Czar . . . in 1613. I liked the name, so I used it.
This was getting a bit 'normal'. I want to put him back in the place of criminal again. He still is a young criminal, and in this chapter, I try to put that in evidence.
Okay, now this chapter took me some time to do and I want you to know that what you are going to read is not just invented, but those weapons truly exist. Now, I invented that the Russian empire is, like, humongous HUGE. A very very powerful country (military forces . . . weapons and all the other bla bla). Put that in your head while reading this chapter.
By the way, this chapter is slightly a bit a lot . . . euh, bizarre and far fetched.
**********
Walking down the hall, Nathan had finally decided to go out of his room after having figured out that it couldn't be that bad if he just avoided eye contact.
He was wearing his usual pair of baggy jeans, a long sleeved shirt and his fang necklace. He was also holding his trench coat with one hand, his other occupied by a shoulder bag. Some people would have find it strange to see someone with a trench coat when it was nearly July, but it wasn't really because all summer was expected to be relatively cold in the state of New York. The coat, the bag and the pair of blue-lensed sunglasses on the top of his head all clearly indicated that he was going somewhere. All the students were in class by now, and so he didn't risk being seen by anyone. He had heard that they might all go out during the afternoon, on an outing somewhere in New York. This was good news because this way, Max would be occupied and wouldn't go back to his room and notice that he was gone. The only real problem was the professor who would most probably ask questions. I mean, he was a psychic after all.
He passed the green house Ororo was using as a class, glimpsing inside to see Max sitting next to Bobby and John, and they were visibly having more fun in talking than paying attention to Storm's class. Nathan smiled. At least his friend was happy. When they had left Ontario together, he had been afraid that his friend wouldn't like life on the road. But he was happy.
"If I leave, at least he'll be safe and in a good place," Nathan thought soberly.
He spotted Kitty and Rogue in the back of the class, sitting on either side of Jubilee. Both were taking notes and paying no attention whatsoever to anything else. His smile slowly faded away.
Girls. Always a problem when there is more than one.
He sighed, before walking pass the door and continuing his way. His objective was to arrive in the garage without being seen, take his car and go down town to exchange it against another one. Keeping the same car for too long wasn't his style. He had to change it every five to six weeks. Sometimes, it was because it was a stolen car, but that's another matter.
He arrived in the garage without any major problem and spotted his car rather easily. He took a few minutes to admire some of Scott's, or rather the school's, cars and then opened the garage door, admiring his own car for a moment before putting on his sunglasses and jumping into the driver's seat. He pushed a CD in the CD player and drove off towards the school property's gates. They opened immediately at his car's approach, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator the second he was on the street, the wheels leaving a long black trail behind him.
"Time to relax, and work," he said to himself, opening his car window. "New York, here I come."
***
Nate arrived in New York around noon. He went directly to a car dealer he knew very well, and exchanged his BMW for a Porsche. He had chosen it red.
After that, he decided to go have a hot dog because, first of all, he didn't want to take off his sunglasses to freak people out, so he couldn't go into a restaurant, and second of all, eating outside something not expensive was a good deal.
It was to say, being alone and knowing that he wouldn't be deranged let him think much more clearly. He spent a few hours in Central Park, walking around and thinking about his friends, his mutation and his future.
In the middle of the after noon, he decided to go to the museum. Museums had become his favourite outing place at a very young age, when his mother had brought him to an art and statue exposition, back in Ontario. He had just plain loved it. He had kept visiting some over the years, and he had often visited this museum when he had stayed in New York, with Max.
Walking into the tourist-filled marble hall, he went directly towards the painting section. He admired many before finally choosing to sit on a bench, in the impressionist gallery, in front of Monet's Lilly Pond painting. He looked at it for a very long time without doing really anything, paying no attention to the old folks passing by, wondering if he was the last teenager on earth to admire a painting. Slowly, he took out a CD player and headphones, then a sketch book and a pencil. Looking at the Monet again, he turned on his discman, looked at his sheet of white paper and started drawing, copying the image in front of him.
While doing that, he thought, barely listening to his music, completely ignoring the people around him.
Fiteen minutes passed as he just kept looking at his sheet of paper and the painting in front of him. Occasionally, he looked around the room, just verifying that everything was clear and that no one was going to bother him.
***
Looking at his watch, Nathan saw that it was almost four o'clock. He looked bat his drawing, which was worthy of great respect. The image was very well copied, even if unfinished.
Nathan really wanted to stay longer in the museum, but his clients were probably already waiting. He didn't like making them wait, because he was always risking to loose a deal.
Nathan reluctantly rose from his seat, picked up his bag and his cloak that he had placed next to him. He walked quickly towards the nearest exit, slipping his glasses in front of his eyes.
He stopped in front of the statue section, wanting to get a glimpse of one of their new treasures: a magnificent horse dating from the Persian heir, from 600 before Christ. It was a splendid statue, even if a part of it's face had been damaged through the years.
Many tourists surrounded Nathan as he tried to get a clearer view of the beast. Suddenly, while nearly reaching the red cord separating the exposition from the visitors, Nathan saw a couple of familiar faces on the other side of the statue, talking with one of the guards. He was sure he had seen those two stocky men, around the age of forty, wearing identical suits. Shaking his head, Nathan turned around and started walking towards the exit.
He walked outside of the museum, and skirted on the sidewalk towards his car's parking space, about half a block away. When he arrived to his car, he just entered it, beeped at a taxi and zoomed in front of him before he could pass his parked car. He could almost see the taxi man's white face as he passed millimetres from an accident. The taxi started beeping furiously and Nathan just smiled wickedly.
It faded away as soon as the beeping stopped. Why had he done that? In normal time, he just would have waited his turn to pass into the road, but now, he just felt like breaking every driving rule he knew. Just for fun.
"I'm still here," a voice reminded him in his head, making him frown.
He turned on the CD player, putting the music extremely loud, just to block out the voice. He had noticed that he could only hear it when there was silence for too long or when he thought of it, and when he did, the only thing that would make the voice inaudible was music, put full blast. It was another reason he was beginning to like going out of the school. He couldn't put the music too high in his room because of everyone else in the school.
It took Nathan about ten minutes to arrive up to the library, and five more minutes to find a parking place where he knew no one would steal his car. Finally, he jogged up the library's main steps and pushed open one of the large oak doors.
There was only one word for this place. Huge.
Filled with straightly lined wooden bookshelves only reaching half way to the ceiling. There were ladders, also made of wood, there to facilitate the books on higher shelves' reach. There were balconies on either side of the room, on which were even more shelves filled with pilled up books.
Nathan walked up to the front desk, behind which an old lady sat, her greyish white hair tied in a tight French pleat. Her clothes, like herself, were clean, proper and strict. She looked up from her work and looked at the boy in front of her, giving him a 'why-are-you-actually-coming-in-a- library-you-spoiled-brat' look.
"Hello, could you tell me where I could find the computer room?" he asked, without taking off his glasses, chewing his gum.
"Follow the medical aisle then turn left in the second history aisle. It's at the end," the lady said, going back to her work.
"Thank you," Nathan said briskly as he started walking in the designated direction.
He arrived there a few minutes later, forced to stop in the science row to verify if there was not a new mutant gene book he could read, trying to get as much information, as always.
"I'd like to go on the Internet for maybe twenty minutes," he said to the man watching the computer room. "How much would that cost?"
"Three fifty," the man said. "Take the fourth cubicle on your right."
Nathan looked around as he started walking.
What was fun in this computer room was that everyone was placed in their own cubicle and could do anything they wanted without being watched. The cubicles, unlike everything made of wood, back in the library, were of white plastic and seemed brand new.
Nate sat in his chair in front of the computer in the fourth cubicle. He pressed the Internet logo and a page flicked up. He typed an address in the specified line and another page replaced the first one, showing the main page of a chat room. He entered his user name and code and entered one of the multiple chat rooms.
One of his clients was there.
He was code-named Alcatraz. He was another one of Mother Russia's street- born rebels working against their government. He was actually doing a good job in trying to liberate his country from the dominant dictator, Ivan Carlovesky who was literally freezing his people to death by rising the heating price. He used the country's force to exchange great weaponry with other countries, illegally. No one had enough proof to set him down, and he couldn't be removed from his governmental status. There were too many signed papers proving that he was Russia's main ruler, and it was to say, what he was doing with the country's great forces was terrible. Terrorists could bargain with him for his military hardware, which was one of the most developed in the world.
After months of coaxing people on the Internet, Nate had arrived to make one of his part time colleagues hack into the chat room to identify who Alcatraz really was, and he realized that Silent Night was working for him. His name was Michael Romanov, the son of a commoner living in Moscow, wining his life as a politic secretary for the government. We guess it is from his father that Michael got to know so much about what was going on with his country's political affairs. Alcatraz had seven younger brothers and four sisters, that all followed him into the depths of anarchism after his father's murder when he was eighteen. He brought his mother to London, where he helped her take care of his family. Once his father's name was almost completely forgotten when he was twenty-five, he returned to Moscow with one of his brothers, carrying very important details of his country's affairs of state. Scared, the government sent people to murder him, but he escaped with a bullet in the back. Once he was nursed back to health, he gathered people together, creating an anarchist group trying to infiltrate the Russian Maffia to let his country regain a certain composure. It was nearly drowning in criminal activities, and Michael wanted to remedy this.
Nate also discovered that three of Alcatraz's sisters were secret agents working for the KGB, but were actually under-cover agents for their brother. Nate knew that if the KGB discovered who they really were, they would be executed.
The rest of his brothers were all with him, except for two who had died under the government's bullets. The two other sisters were secretaries at the government by day, part of Michael's rebel group by night.
Michael was now married and had three children. Nate supposed that his family was in Germany, France or England, because he kept moving around these countries, Moscow being too dangerous for himself and his people.
Bait Hunter,
My country's government is now exchanging weaponry with Iraq ad Israel, to use against the American or English forces without they, or Russia's knowing. In order to prevent a great conflict, I must ask your help once again.
Alcatraz
Nathan read the message quickly, not very surprised by the news. Iraq, Israel and other Arabic counties were all against the three countries that had brought them down (U.S., England, Russia) . He replied
Alcatraz,
Talk. I am listening.
Bait Hunter
Less than a minute later, there was a fairly long response that appeared in Nathan's screen.
Bait Hunter,
I have depended on you several times for numerous things that have helped me greatly. Fake identities, papers or even sophisticated machines, all you could provide. For that, I can only guess that you have great power or a remarkably psychologically gifted criminal mastermind, or even both.
Now, what I am going to ask you might be considered as a far greater thing to ask, and I would understand if you couldn't provide it to us. But if it's greater, you know that the money is too.
What I need is your help, and knowledge.
I am a revolutionist, and I want to bring back my country to power, as it was a decade ago. For that, I must destroy Carlovesky's foces, because he is the one causing so much damage to my country. I cannot simply kill him, because his son, an even more dangerous tyrant would be given the power. I need to scare them, give them a lesson and bring back Mother Russia, saving her from both Carlovesky and Iraq. Iraq could turn back on their allies, Carlovesky, and bombard Moscow.
I have a plan, but I will greatly need your help. I have discovered twenty two secret military bases across Russia, that Carlovesky has activated, for the trade with the south and for other things that I am not aware of. One of these bases, located near Siberia, holds five of the most potent weapon of the Russian arsenal. I am talking about MIG-25s.
I intend to get those weapons, and others similar to them to destroy the other bases, and force Carlovsky out of power.
I need your help for that.
Alcatraz
Nathan removed his sunglasses that he had kept for some reason, and re-read the message, feeling his mouth go dry.
"Holy Shit," he whispered to himself, leaning in his chair, staring at the screen. This was a very big job. Maybe even too big for a teenager like him. He typed a response, just to see if what he thought MIG-25s are.
Alcatraz,
When you say MIG-25s, you mean that you intend to steal, right under the government's nose, five twin-engine jets Missile-launching planes with the speed of Mach 2,8 , capable of ceiling up to 80,000 ft. and capable of carrying 4,400 lbs. As you said, the most potent weapon of the Russian arsenal, one of the most sophisticated military jets in the world.
Bait Hunter
Nathan waited incredulously for a response to that.
Bait Hunter,
Yes. I see you know a lot about military weaponry, and so I am unafraid to add that we also intend to use a multiple orbit bombardment system which is a weapons system utilizing warhead-carrying satellites. For that we will use long-range missiles with multiple warheads that can be targeted separately.
I can assure you that those weapons are only used for the good of my country.
Alcatraz
Now Nathan was nearly as white as his cubicle's wall. This was a very very very big deal. It took him another few minutes to regain composure and write back.
Alcatraz,
You intend to use ICBMs to neutralize completely Carlovsky's forces. I guess you have already located his other bases in the surrounding countries? If for that, I must remind you that ICMBs are to be taken very seriously. You don't want an intercontinental ballistic missile to land at the wrong place. And second of all, ICBMs are extremely well protected by their countries. I mean, there is a system for those nuclear missiles. We never know where they are. They are constantly moved so to avoid providing a knowable target.
Bait Hunter
Nathan got a response, explaining further on Alcatraz's plan. He was offering eighty millions for Nate's help, and if made Nathan sigh with depression as he didn't even know that he was only eighteen! He responded that he needed time to think about all of this. Alcatraz gave him two months to decide if he was in.
Nathan disconnected his computer and exited his cubicle. It was clearly visibly that he was in a shock trance since even the man taking care of the computer room asked him if he was all right.
Nathan walked back to his car, almost forgetting to put back his sunglasses. He drove back to the school and went up to his room without being asked any question by anyone. They were almost all out to the movies or something.
He locked himself in his room a sudden headache taking him again as he tried to think clearly about what had happened in the chat room. He knew he was too young and inexperienced to get into all of that mess. If he got in, he couldn't get out but it looked . . . somewhat fun. Exciting. All Nathan wished t have.
The voice started in his head again.
"I am you . . . we are the same self . . . I am going to get you . . . use you . . . twist you the way I please . . . I know you know you want to help Alcatraz . . . be in the action . . . kill . . . admit it . . . you love to kill . . . and I tell you, some one here is going to die . . . maybe because of you . . . I will take over you . . ."
"Shut up!" Nathan yelled grabbing the side of his head.
No. I want peace. I want quiet. I want my life back, the way it was before you came . . . the voice, always the voice. He was sick of it.
A long time after, he fell asleep with two words in his head: Kitty . . . Rogue . . . Kitty . . . Rogue . . .
**********
A bit far fetched with the Russian thing, maybe? What do *you* think?
For those who are history lovers, like me, and realized that Michael Romanov was the name of a real Russian Czar . . . in 1613. I liked the name, so I used it.