The Dark Continent
Disclaimer: Same as before…
"What the hell happened here?" Truscott asked. The small village in the Nigerian countryside was a literal ghost town. Only vultures and the occassional scavenger remained as life. Dead bodies, many mutilated lay about the place.
"An ethnic clensing." Jan Shimoda replied.
Truscott pumped the pedals on the bicycle as he passed another of Edinburgh's historical buildings. Seeing in his mind's eye memories of Nigeria, smelling with his mind's nose the destroyed village.
"Ibo fight Fulani. Fulani hate them." Malawi, an ex-Cameron Army soldier, explained.
Truscott saw the charred corpse of an Ibo tribesman, from the look of the ground, it appeared as though the man had been burned alive and tried to twist free of the tires around his body. Bastards. Truscott thought. How do we expect to win against the Heartless when humans do these things to each other?
A woman lay nearby, shot in the head, her hands looking as though they gripped the ankle of one of the burnt man's tormentors. Bluey imagined the woman was pleading with the soldiers to stop beating her husband, and as they set him alight, for them to show mercy and kill him quickly. Obviously she wasn't successful.
"Truscott, stay sharp." Shimoda said.
Bluey Truscott pumped the pedals of the bicycle, remembering a promise he made to himself. The next Fulani soldier he saw would get shot in the belly.
He glanced at his watch again, the sun was rising so it was around six-thirty. He was near the waterfront, as he had crossed the bridge. He took a steel cable and hooked it around a nearby tree and through the straps of his backpack.
Who put the ocean so close to the shore? Bluey thought. It was a question he'd heard since his first days in the Royal Australian Navy. He thought it was such a silly question at first. But then he remembered memories of peace and calm on the ocean. So much beauty and wonder below the waves, a contrast to violence and destruction he saw on land.
Truscott took off his t-shirt, soft soled trail shoes, and his blue jeans and plunged into the bay, swimming about five hundred meters out, and treading water facing the sunrise. There was some peace to be found in the sea, something cleansing about the water. Thoughts of Nigeria and what he had seen, thoughts of the fighting disappeared. Thoughts of Marian entered his mind, the thoughts of the more tender variety as opposed to the confusing dance that he seemed to be forever involved with, regarding her.
After a few minutes he swam back to shore, drying off and putting his clothes back on. He unlocked his bicycle and headed back to the Edinburgh Field Office. He showed up just as roll call was being administered.
"Let me guess, no helmet." Marian began, as she saw Bluey wheeling his bicycle inside.
"You know me so well." Bluey replied, grinning.
"Go Springboks." Marian smiled, referring to the South African national team and their upcoming test match against the Wallabies.
"Bollocks. Go Wallabies." Bluey replied.
"Uncle Argyle has quite a few pounds riding on the Springboks this year." Marian replied.
"I still say the Wallabies are set for the Tri Nations this year." Bluey replied.
"Nah," Marian replied, "I think South Africa has this clenched."
"Bollocks. We Aussies aren't too shabby…" Bluey replied.
"There was the 2003 Rugby World Cup." Marian teased.
"Oh shut up…" Bluey replied.
"As the Americans say, second place is first loser." Marian continued to tease.
"Actually my money is with the All Blacks." Rebecca commented as she took a cup of coffee from the break room, "They beat both the Springboks and Wallabies last year."
"Bloody fluke that New Zealand got that one." Bluey remarked.
"Well," Marian replied, "I do have work to do, so you two can argue the merits of Australia versus New Zealand till you're blue in the face."
Helen walked over there just then, "One of those debates?"
Marian rolled her eyes, "Whenever Bluey and Rebecca get involved in an Australia versus New Zealand debate, they can take a while."
"By the way, are we still on for this afternoon?" Helen asked.
"It depends." Marian replied, "When I finish the details of your move."
"I haven't felt this spry in ages." Helen replied.
"I look forward to besting you." Marian replied, "Never underestimate a Scot's competitive drive."
"Now who's being stubborn?" Bluey said, leaning against the counter while sipping at his tea.
Marian brushed a stray lock away from her face, and checked that her hairclip was alright before she walked into the conference room. "Nervous?" Bluey asked.
"Don't you have work to do?" Marian asked.
"Not for another hour or so." Bluey replied, "If it helps, just imagine the audience naked."
"And then get accused of pederasty, pedophilia and everything else in between?" Marian replied, "No thank you."
"You're right, but I do think imagining Mr. Parr minus clothing is akin to thinking of a beached whale." Bluey replied.
"I heard that Truscott!" came the shout through the door.
"Can you two not snipe at each other for ten minutes?" Marian remarked.
"Well, if Aussie would realize that his sniping is like a Welsh Terrier barking at a Great Dane, things would be smoother." Bob shouted through the door.
"If I'm a Terrier then you're a bloody Bullmastiff that's been overfed." Bluey shouted back.
"Bob, knock it off before I send both of you to Obedience School." Helen replied.
Marian and Bluey entered the conference room just then, and Marian flashed Helen a 'thank you' look.
"So where will we be moving?" Bob asked.
"1328 Prescott Street, San Francisco." Marian replied.
"It's a perfect two story house, good enough to house a family and a Bullmastiff." Bluey replied. Marian elbowed him in the ribs.
"Terriers are a perfect dietary supplement to Bullmastiff diets, Truscott." Bob replied.
"Careful, they may have a few too many calories, mate." Bluey replied.
"Will you two quit filling the room with hostility and testosterone every time you come into contact with each other?" Helen remarked.
"You two are worse than fire and oil." Marian added.
"Well someone could use less oil in their diet." Bluey sniped.
"And somebody could always fight with someone their own size." Bob replied.
"And perhaps someone could learn a lesson in tact." Bluey countered.
"Will you quit with this pissing contest you two have been going at all week!" Marian remarked, losing her patience.
OK, Violet thought, It's clear that Bluey, while he's got some attitude issues is really protective of Marian. That's so sweet. But Dad's right, it's like a Terrier barking at a Great Dane.
"Moving on." Bluey continued, "Prescott Street has some of the nicer middle class houses in San Francisco. And it's not very far from that world's ACME HQ."
"How does that work?" Helen asked.
"We'll be in touch with the ACME of that world, letting them know your situation." Marian replied, "And we will be in touch as well."
"We'll keep an eye on your situation." Bluey said, "And will inform you of any changes or anything of that sort."
"It's a Class A world." Marian began, "Meaning it has little to no knowledge of the existence of other worlds or of the Heartless."
"Who would know about other worlds or us for that matter in that reality's San Francisco?" Bob asked.
"As she said, practically no one, save a government organization or two and that world's ACME." Bluey replied.
"And I'll be in contact for a while." Marian replied.
"How long is a while?" Helen asked.
"I honestly can't say." Marian replied.
"What's the neighborhood like?" Bob asked.
"It's a typical American suburban neighborhood, interpret that how you like, but it's crime rate is fairly low, there's a large park within walking distance, and your yard is a decent sized patch of grass." Bluey replied.
"Neighbors?" Helen asked.
"A fairly average lot." Marian replied, "Three sisters that live next door to you, one with a husband and two children."
"Interesting." Bob remarked.
"Anyway, we should have you on your way to San Francisco tonight." Marian replied.
"Entry by C-5 corridor?" Truscott asked, "Assuming the bloody thing works properly this time."
"Rebecca got the quirks out of it this time." Marian protested, "And yes, they'll be going via C-5 corridor."
"C-5?" Bob asked.
"It's a dimensional travel corridor that can transport you to nearly any world you desire." Marian replied, "ACME agents have access to it, through voice recognition technology, and it's our most highly guarded secret."
That is why paramilitaries in hot water can't be extracted by it. Bluey thought, somewhat bitterly.
"There is all the information you want to know about this San Francisco in your information packet." Marian replied.
"Hot tip gumshoes!" came a disembodied voice. The Parrs stared at a digitized talking head against a square pink background. The digitized head was a narrow faced one with glasses and a shock of longish hair with a widow's peak.
"That's the Chief." Marian replied.
"The head of your organization is a disembodied head?" Dash asked, "COOL!"
"Your departure time has been moved up to three o'clock this afternoon." The Chief began, "Marian will still be your point of contact, and you have her contact information already."
"Right." Marian replied, as the Chief blinked out, "You'd best get packed. And I'd best get ready."
"Oi Truscott." Came another voice from the doorway, "Meeting here in ten."
"Let me guess, classified?" Marian asked.
"You know it." Bluey replied.
The C-5 corridor room was a large space, the size of an amphitheater crammed with electronic equipment, banks of computers, and technicians moving all about the place, making adjustments.
"It's faster than flying." Marian replied, and said the command, "C-5 us to San Francisco."
A portal opened up in the room and the six people were sucked in. Bob Parr felt like his stomach was free floating in his body, almost like being in space. Dash was enjoying practically hovering in midair, pretending he was one of the flying Supers. Violet looked like she was going to be sick, and Helen was sitting Indian style in the air, with Jack Jack on her lap. The latter was mouthing the ear of his teddy bear.
"You're traveling from Edinburgh, Scotland to the foggy shores of San Francisco, California." The Chief began, "This version is a Class A world, meaning its knowledge of other worlds is limited to non-existent. Keep that secret under your hats, ladies and gents."
Bob rolled his eyes; this 'Chief' fellow was just plain annoying how he kept appearing everywhere, and his voice was just that irritating variety. To peppy for the serious nature of this relocation. Bob thought. I mean these are our lives he's talking about and he sounds like some jumped up talk show host.
They appeared in the living room of a suburban house where several ACME agents, dressed as movers, were moving furniture into the place.
"You'll notice two palm pilots, one for you and one for Helen. They're on the kitchen counter." Marian began.
"They contain your legends. You're names have remained the same, and it has addresses where you can find work, and other pertinent information about this world." Marian continued.
"Hey, there's already mail for us." Violet remarked.
"That's how we'll communicate." Marian replied, "It seems an ordinary issue of Home and Garden, but the subscription renewal page contains a secret message. Simply run over the blank side with a pencil to see it."
"Where are you going?" Helen asked.
"As I said, I've things to attend to." Marian replied.
Papa Louie surveyed his group. In addition to Jan Shimoda and Bluey Truscott, he had added two other members to their unit. One of them was a recent recruit, Larry Purvis, a slim bodied man in his early thirties. He had served in the Israeli Defense Force Oket'z Explosives Palga shortly after he had graduated from college in America. The other member of the team was a K-9, a Border Collie named Sprocket.
"Right, we will be departing for San Francisco at five o'clock this afternoon, for the safe house that has been set up there for us." Papa Louie began.
"Operation type?" Truscott asked.
"Our op is primarily recon. We've received some watcher reports that Heartless have begun to appear on this world." Papa Louie replied.
"Armaments?" Jim Shimoda asked.
"As this operation is primarily recon, we'll be going in with handguns only." Papa Louie replied, "However, we have sufficient funding for heavier arms and other equipment if need be."
"Good." Truscott replied, "Other gear?"
"Well, as we're moving into a suburban house, moving in with anything identifiably military will be out of the question. Much of our stuff is going to be locally purchased." Papa Louie replied.
"Location?" Purvis asked.
"1315 Prescott Street." Papa Louie replied, "That is the safe house we'll be conducting business from. Our hidden transmitter is already set up, and we will need to radio reports on a daily basis."
"What's our legend? Four bachelors and a dog sharing a house is not exactly commonplace." Jim Shimoda asked.
"Well, I'm the landlord, and the three of you are paying renters at my house." Papa Louie replied, "And there's enough of a backstory to establish how each of you wound up there."
"I'm a surveyor?" Bluey asked.
"You used to work for a land surveying group in Australia before you got laid off and headed over here." Papa Louie explained.
"Right, and I suppose I've got my tools and everything else." Bluey added.
"They're already at the safe house. Coincidentally, we can use them to update our maps regarding Heartless infestation." Papa Louie replied.
"Day trading? How interesting." Jim Shimoda said as he read his file.
"You used to be involved with that stuff in Washington State but after a nervous breakdown, you moved down here and run a little software business." Papa Louie added.
"And I'm your nephew?" Purvis said, as he glanced at his own file.
"Yeah, you moved in with me after your divorce." Papa Louie replied.
"I like the easy to remember legends." Bluey replied.
"Off to the armory." Papa Louie ordered.
At the armory, they selected four 9mm Sig Sauer P226 handguns from the racks, as well as four spare clips apiece. After loading the magazines and putting the boxes of rounds into civilian hiking backpacks, the four men headed to the C-5 corridor room where they were relocated to the safe house.
Papa Louie picked up the palm pilot that had been issued to him for the operation and opened the file labeled 'House'. There was a diagram of hiding places for things in the house, including a trap door in the basement where heavier equipment or firearms could be stored. After committing that file to memory, he deleted it.
"Purvis, carry out a surveillance and perimeter sweep with Sprocket." Papa Louie began.
Purvis nodded and walked out of the house after leashing Sprocket and heading out into the city of San Francisco.
TBC (I know this chapter is mainly OC, but the next chapter will have the Incredibles meeting their new next-door neighbors, and I don't mean the four SOG men…)
Oket'z Explosives Palga – Israeli Defense Force K-9 unit that specializes in the search for explosive devices.