Ch. 42: This is Sparta!

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I hit writer's block that was like a brick wall at the beginning of the week. I finally got through it late last night.

I hope it was worth the wait.

Read and review if you want.

"Okay...just stop."

I looked over at Stokes, who was glaring at me. I asked, "Something wrong?"

The blonde soldier replied, "What the fuck? You destroyed an entire universe by giving Alma an orgasm?"

Alma gave off a satisfied sigh as she commented, "Yes...mmm...such a good boy."

I said, "Basically yeah..."

She questioned, "You and Alma...entered the 'good' universe, assaulted ATC Headquarters in Fairport, killed Fettel and Point Man, Alma possessed the body of her other self, and then you two...until Alma had an orgasm that destroyed the universe?"

I replied, "Yes."

Stokes confessed, "I don't understand."

Confused, I asked, "What? An orgasm?"

Stokes replied, "No smart ass, I don't understand how there was enough energy to destroy an entire universe. Just the Earth, I would understand...but everything?"

"A large enough discharge of psionic energy creates an implosion rather than an explosion. Mother destroyed the universe by collapsing it in upon itself." Amara explained.

There was a knock on the door. I called out, "Enter." Moments later, Jin and Point Man entered the room. I smirked before I commented, "Ah, glad you two could tear yourselves away from each other to join us."

Jin laughed sarcastically before she replied, "At least Point Man hasn't knocked me up and then killed a bunch of people for me."

I smirked before I said with mock hurt, "Ow, the pain."

Jin sat down in front of the fire next to Stokes and Point Man leaned against the wall on the other side of the fireplace. After situating herself, Jin asked, "So, what story is it this time?"

I smiled before I replied, "Ours."

The ex-F.E.A.R. Operative asked, "Really? So, where are we?"

"Mommy and Daddy just destroyed the good universe." Amara replied.

Confused, Jin asked, "When did that happen?"

I explained, "Alaska. I am about to get to the part with the marines."

She nodded and I returned to telling the story.

As we moved towards the rollercoaster, my mind was still reeling from what had just transpired. Ahead of me, my goddess was happily skipping forward and I caught myself staring at her rear. I shook my head to try to focus. I could feel her smirking at my humiliation. What was wrong with me? I had a mission to complete. I mentally berated myself, 'Focus old man! People are counting on you!'

"Do you like my ass, Michael?" Alma's voice echoed in my mind. I cringed, causing her to giggle briefly. Then, she continued, "Aw, who is my dirty little boy?"

Before I even realized what I was saying, I replied, "Me."

She asked with a playful tone, "Yes, who's a good boy?"

As if I was powerless to stop myself, I replied, "Me, I'm a good boy."

Enjoying herself, Alma giggled as she asked, "Yes, you're a good boy. Aren't you? Yes, aren't you a good boy?"

Finally breaking free of whatever it was that was happening to me, I barked aloud, "I AM NOT A DOG!"

My outburst caused everyone present to flinch. Alma paused to allow me to catch up to her. When I reached her, bitter, I walked into her and continued forward. Clearly surprised and hurt by my actions, Alma called after me with a timid voice, "Mi-Michael? Wh-what's wrong?" Fuming, I ignored her. By then, we were approaching the winding rows of the line for the rollercoaster.

Not in the mood for walking through the created path, I sent a psychic burst through the moldy rope lines. The ropes and their oxidized metal bases collapsed to the ground and I walked over the top of them. I could sense the uneasy fright coming my teammates and companion. Desperately, Alma asked me through our bond, "Michael, please talk to me. What's wrong?"

Upset because she had used my feelings for her against me and sexually humiliated me once again, I continued to ignore her. As I approached the gated entrance to the rollercoaster, I saw something blocking the path. When I got closer, I saw that it was a giant, mechanical raccoon. When I neared the green mold covered automaton, it said, "Welcome to The Scream Machine, sir. To get in, you must answer a riddle."

Tired of being a plaything for others amusement, I replied, "Alright, how's this? A man goes to a doctor. Says that he is depressed. That life doesn't seem worth living. The world is harsh and cruel. The man asks the doctor what to do. The doctor thinks for a moment and then says that the circus is in town. The great Pagliacci is there. He should go see him. Cheer him right up. The man looks at the doctor and says, 'But doctor, I am Paglicacci.'"

Then, snatching up the barrel of my Patten, I unloaded my entire clip into the mechanical raccoon. Afterwards, as I was reloading my rifle, the automaton began to dissolve into black goo. By the time that I had finished reloading, all that was left was a puddle. As I watched, the puddle disappeared to reveal another link of tickets.

I bent down and retrieved the tickets. Counting them quickly, I found that there were ten tickets. As I stood, I remarked, "The answer is the sick joke that is life, my friend."

Behind me, Alpha 1 requested, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

My rage was stifled slightly. It had been quite some time since my brother had called me "sir". Turning around, I faced him. Then, I replied, "Of course, permission granted."

He said, "I don't know what is troubling you, but whatever it is, it is interfering with your ability to focus. If not for yourself, then tell me what it is for the sake of the mission."

I stared at him for a moment. Alpha 1 was the only man that was more stubborn than I was. I knew all too well that he was not going to let it go until I told him. Swallowing my pride, I said, "I was wrong, alright?"

He lowered his Vollmer to a casual position and then asked, "Wrong about what?"

I sighed before I explained, "Good and evil...turns out I was wrong...does actually count for something. Turns out that even good intentions done the wrong way are evil."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he asked, "Are you talking about what we have done?"

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, I lowered my head slightly as I replied, "Yeah..."

Again, my brother was silent for a moment. Then, he said, "Brother, good...evil...are entirely non-definitive. Perspective determines value."

My mood lightened. He was right: good or evil, it was entirely dependent upon someone's perspective. Besides, as Alma had shown me, being "evil" was more fun and effective than being "good" all the time. I was better off being "evil". That other me was a nobody. I was the king of the most powerful militaristic country that the world had ever seen. I had thousands of diehard loyal special ops level soldiers that all but worshiped me. The Spartan Navy had an immortal goddess of war in the form of the resurrected battleship IJN Yamato, the largest, most powerful warship ever constructed by human hands. The "good" me had died alone. I had several close friends, an enchanting daughter, and an inhumanly attractive goddess was my wife and best friend.

My wife commented aloud, "Yes, Michael. Join me on the dark side and, together, we shall rule the galaxy as husband and wife!"

My anger completely evaporated as I looked at her for a moment. Then, I smiled weakly before I asked, "What?"

She smiled brightly as she shrugged briefly before she replied, "I don't know...I thought it was cool in my head. Did it work?"

I raised my right shoulder slightly as I said, "Eh...it was alright." I lowered my shoulder as I continued, "Tweak it a little and it would work so much better." Then, I handed her the tickets as I said sheepishly, "I'm sorry...I..."

Taking the tickets in her pale hands, she shushed me and then explained, "Don't be...I wasn't being fair to you. I'm sorry, my love. I am trying to mature but I still have a playful childish side. I shouldn't have teased you like that so soon. Michael, please do not dwell on it...someday, we will talk about it, but only when you are ready."

I nodded before I motioned for us to continue. Leading the way, I walked through the entrance to the ride. Walking out onto the subway station-like platform, I noticed that the cars were not in the station. I paused and listened for a moment. I heard the faint sound of a child screaming in agony and the louder sound of the rusted metal struts of the rollercoaster groaning. Like the merry-go-round, the rollercoaster was a revolting pile of scrap metal. The smell of urine and dried vomit wafted through the heavy shoreline air. On the floor beneath my feet, the rotting planks of wood were covered with a dried, dark red substance that was likely blood.

Despite listening for a moment, I failed to hear the sound of the cars running along the track. Standing directly beside me to my right, Alpha 1 questioned, "Think it is an automated ride?"

I shook my head before I replied, "No..." Turning to look at him, I noticed the control booth at the far end of the platform. Motioning towards the booth by nodding my head, I informed my brother, "Maybe we can shut it down though." The armored soldier turned and looked at the booth as I began to walk towards it.

Upon arriving at the simple booth, I found that the door was locked. However, using my right shoulder as a battering ram, I forced the flimsy obstacle open. I entered the cobweb-filled room and examined the control panel. Most of the switches were gone, their wires were sticking out of the holes where they once were, but there was still one that was intact. The worn black switch had the barely legible label "Master power" beneath it.

I snorted before I rhetorically asked aloud, "Master power? What is that? A joke?"

Alma stood in the doorway as she asked, "What do you mean?"

I laughed before I replied, "This place is no more powered than your vibrator."

She wrinkled her nose at me before she retorted, "I don't have one."

Resisting the urge to slam my head into one of the nearby transparent plastic walls, I said, "Stop ruining my jokes. I was talking about me...fuck you've ruined it."

She giggled for a moment before she said with a purposely-childish tone, "Yes, do you like my wittle holes? Are you a wittle pervie, Wichael?"

I turned to leave as I said, "Mommy, why are you talking like that? You're scaring me."

As I faced her, she winked and replied, "Because you like your dirty little girl."

When I reached her, I bent down and put my left bicep under her small rear. Lifting her up, I brought her up to where we were face-to-face and kissed her on her small soft lips. As we continued to kiss, she reached up and wrapped her slender arms around my neck. When we parted, I whispered, "No, I love my dirty little girl."

She looked back at me with her beautiful eyes filled with happiness for a moment before she said, "I love you too." Despite wanting to stare into her eyes forever, I knew that we had a mission to complete. I set her back down and we both exited the booth.

As we exited the booth, Foxtrot 813 asked, "Okay, we're here. So, now what?"

I replied, "We go up on the tracks."

The Replica commented, "Great..."

Taking point, I jumped down onto the track. The metal support beams below me groaned as the dilapidated structure struggled to support our weight. As we walked along the track, I was constantly straining my ears for the sound of the approaching cars. However, something strange happened as we continued to travel along the track.

The amusement park disappeared as a black void surrounded the rollercoaster. The smell of the shore ceased to be present in the air. In its place, the smell of dust-laden still air filled the area. Seconds later, we climbed up the crest of one of the peaks of the ride and found a door. The faded wooden object was standing upright in the middle of the track without any apparent supports. Cautiously approaching it with my rifle at the ready, I neared the bizarre object. As I reached it, our surroundings suddenly changed.

Looking around, I found that we were back in the plague house. The sickly smell returned, once again reminding me of one of the horrific sights that I had seen in my days in Delta Force. The mental image of innocent people of all ages coughing themselves to death with agonizing sores covering their bodies filled my mind's eye.

Weaponized Yersinia Pestis, Black Plague, was unleashed on the inhabitants of Wall Street in New York during the second Cold War between the West and the newly reformed Soviet Union. The attack was done by a covert group of the Central Intelligence Agency as part of a plan to frame the Soviets.

My mentor and his team, including me, were sent in under the false briefing that it was a terrorist attack. We entered the NYSE New York Stock Exchange and found the unfortunate victims. It became clear that the Stock Exchange had been the target but the agents had miscalculated the spread rate and it ended up infecting the entire area of Wall Street. No one had been spared: women, men, children were all infected with the weaponized strain of the infamous killer.

The strain was even more deadly than its wild counterpart from the Black Plague. The victims never had a chance. Within hours, they would all die. Worst of all, the quack scientists that had engineered the strain had failed to give it a suicide chain. Within twenty-four hours, the contagion had mutated into an airborne strain.

Manhattan was quarantined and the plague never left the island. However, for those trapped on the island, there was no mercy. One hundred percent of the population was infected. Ninety-nine point nine percent would die. The survivors went insane from the agony that they had endured from the sores around their genitals, armpits, and other sensitive areas that the black purple-ish sores favored.

To this day, the area remains quarantined. The once iconic skyscrapers are now abandoned monuments to the country that the United States used to be. The Manhattan Bridge now lies in ruins with the roadway at the bottom of the Hudson and the crumbling brick towers being the only indications that anything was once there.

The animals from the zoo escaped and, for a while, they could be seen from the opposite shoreline. However, due to the small gene pool, they became inbred. It was ruled that it was more inhumane to allow them to continue to suffer. So, a couple of years ago, the State authorized a hunting safari from helicopters since the city was still quarantined.

The worst fate befell the symbol of America herself. The Statue of Liberty, being on Ellis Island, was in the quarantine zone. Much like the country she represented, the line from Bhagavad Gita explains her fate all too well: "I have become Time, the destroyer of worlds." She is just a memory now. The remains of her feet and legs are all that is left. The rest lies at the bottom of the Hudson. The French tried to sue the United States for negligence, more as a desperate grab for money as their people were starving at the time, but the Americans laughed in their face.

Just after we were sent in, we found the false evidence that the CIA had planted to frame the Soviets. The canisters that they used to contain the contagion until release were copies of Soviet Biological Weapon Devices. Moreover, the CIA agents wore Spetsnaz uniforms and shouted in Russian during the attack, knowing that we would examine the surveillance camera recordings.

However, my mentor was not fooled. He personally knew a majority of the Spetsnaz and insisted that they were not responsible. Moreover, he said that the way the agents had spoken Russian was wrong and that "no real Russian" pronounced words like that. I remember him saying, "You ever try ordering a drink at a bar in Russia with your old Spetsnaz buddies in Russian, kid? Trust me, they will make fun of how you pronounce your words until your buddies inform the entire bar that the American has killed more people with a single clip of his M1911A1 than what was present in the room and had a license to kill."

When he examined one of the canisters, he noticed that the markings on the outside were in Russian but were in the wrong locations for them to be the real ones. He "smelled a rat" and informed us that the CIA was behind the attack. He said that he had seen the canisters before in the Middle East when the CIA was manipulating both sides by framing them of bio-terror attacks.

He told us to remain in the city to keep up appearances. He left for a week and never told us what he did. However, I learned that he had broken into the CIA Headquarters and interrogated one of the senior officials before escaping with an empty canister that was identical to the ones used in the Stock Exchange attack.

At the press conference where the Director of the CIA was giving the American media his sales pitch on how the Soviets had blatantly attacked America, my mentor appeared in the audience in his Delta Force uniform and skull mask. On international television, he accused the CIA of committing treason against the United States of America and then demanded authorization to arrest the "traitorous" director.

When the President, who was present, demanded proof of the CIA's actions, my mentor revealed the canister. Then, before anyone could stop him, he opened the device. The director yelled, "You son of a bitch, that contains enough Yersinia Pestis to kill us all!" My mentor laughed and then asked how the director had known what the canister contained before revealing that the canister was empty.

The President ordered for the arrest of the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency and for the entire agency's immediate seizure by the "loyal soldiers" of the Federal Government. The director tried to run but my mentor tackled him to the ground. He stood, held the man down with his right booted foot, and aimed his M1911A1 at the back of the man's head until Secret Service agents arrived and arrested the director.

The President asked my mentor why he had risked treason himself to reveal what the CIA had done. My mentor told him, "So the real Americans did not die in vain. My job is simple, Mr. President. Protect the true United States of America and the ideals that she represents. However, simple jobs naturally become complicated. Individuals become corrupted by the vices of their self-inflated ego. They endanger the true America founded on the principles of equality, freedom, and a government of the people, for the people, and by the people. I don't know what the CIA was fighting for but it sure as shit wasn't my country."

He added, "Commander, I am but a grunt but I can tell you that the Soviets aren't what people have been brainwashed to believe. Their ideals are different but they are not anymore intrinsically evil than we are...any fool that bothers to educate her or himself would understand that. Capitalism...Communism...makes no difference...the true value of an individual is who they are not what they are."

The President tried to save face for the camera by thanking my mentor and then started to leave. However, my mentor called after him, "A war between us is inevitable, Mr. President. The lines in the sand have been drawn. You will find me there, fighting to protect our ideals. However, know this: my loyalty lies with the people, not with those sitting behind a fancy desk, wearing a fancy tie, signing fancy documents with a fancy pen in fancy cursive writing. People like yourself may think that your status makes you better than everyone else, but my M1911A1 will kill you just the same. Stay in line, sir."

The CIA was seized by the FBI, who were more than happy to take the agency's place. In the long run, the "gangsters with badges" proved to be even more ruthless and efficient than the CIA both nationally and internationally. With a financial hardline second only to the military budget, the Bureau became feared as the "Waffen-SS of the American Government".

I opened the door to find a child's playroom. Stuffed animals were piled up in a box in the far right corner. Along the left wall was a simple white bed with pink sheets. In the center of the room was a simple set of pink plastic furniture with four chairs and a table. The walls were pink with pearl white trim. Amara had a room similar to this one except that, since she was still a baby, the bed was a crib. As I entered the room, I saw Akira materialize in one of the chairs. She looked up at me as she waved.

Cautiously, I approached her. As I did, she said with a happy tone, "I am glad you guys made it." Then, she asked, "Did you get the keys?"

I replied, "We tried, sweetie, but we could only find two of them."

She giggled before she revealed, "That's okay, Father. The third key is you."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"

She explained, "I wanted to have a tea party with you but none of my friends wanted to play with me. I think I scare them. Anyway, since they didn't want to play, I needed you to go get two new friends so that there wouldn't be an empty seat."

Looking over at the pile of stuffed animals, I quickly realized what she meant by friends. The revelation saddened me slightly. Her only friends were her stuffed animals, which she had likely materialized with her mind.

I smiled at her slightly before I said, "I would be delighted, sweetie."

She gave off a cry of happiness before she said, "Yay!"

I could not help but smile at her happiness as I placed my rifle on my back using my rifle's strap. I motioned for the two toys and Alma gave them to me. I took them and showed Akira that we had indeed retrieved them as she had asked. Standing, she walked over and took them from my grasp. The troubled young girl took them and held them in her tiny hands.

Turning them to look at her, she giggled before she remarked, "You are...Colonel Fancy Tail...and you are...Robbie the Rabbit." She smiled as she looked over at Alpha 1, who was standing next to me. She asked my brother, "Do you like my names, Uncle?"

Though he was clearly uneasy with being called "Uncle", Alpha 1 replied with his deep voice, "They are humorous, Miss Akira."

She asked him with a curious tone, "Are you always this way or are you just uneasy around me?"

He replied, "You continue to attempt to seduce me, Miss Akira. Naturally, I am uneasy around you."

She pouted and then asked, "You don't find me attractive?"

My brother explained, "Miss Akira, you are wasting your time. My mind is sentient but my body is still a Replica. We are irreversibly programmed to be asexual. The only relationships that I can have are family, purely romantic, or friendship based. I could not find you attractive even if I wanted to. My apologies, ma'am."

She cocked her head to the right before she asked, "Asexual? Wait, so you can't have sex?"

He shook his head before he replied, "Only to please a romantic partner, Miss Akira."

She thought for a moment before she asked, "So...theoretically if we became romantic partners, you would have sex with me if it made me happy?"

Alpha 1 chuckled slightly before he replied, "You are stubborn like your mother and Amara, Miss Akira. In answer to your question, theoretically, yes I would but as you are a child and I am older than your father, by the time that you would be sexually mature, there would be little point in doing so since I would have physically begun to experience...issues...and in my mind, you would be better off with someone younger so I would be unwilling to disappoint you and would therefore deny your requests."

She smirked before she said, "I accept your challenge." She then turned to me and said, "Tea time, Father?" I smiled slightly as I nodded once.

Some time later.

"More tea, Father?"

I looked at Akira, who was holding the teapot of her plastic tea set, from where I was awkwardly sitting in the child-sized plastic chair. I replied, "No thank you, sweetie."

She giggled and then held the pot towards the stuffed raccoon sitting in the chair to my left. She asked, "More tea Colonel?" She changed her voice to be deeper as she said, "Yes, thank you, Akira." She giggled as she poured imaginary tea from the pot into the plastic cup in front of the stuffed animal. As I watched the playful little girl, it seemed unfathomable that this was the same individual that had killed so many people.

I said, "Akira, you don't strike me as unbalanced."

She put the teapot down in the center of the table and picked up her cup. As she pretended to sip from her cup, she replied, "Really? Well, thank you, Father."

I asked, "So, why all this death and destruction? If I hadn't seen how cold and methodical you can be, I would never believe that you would be capable of killing anyone, let alone everyone in your universe. Why Akira? Are you unwell? Do you need something?"

She smiled before she replied, "Thank you for your concern for my wellbeing, but I am well. Truth be told, I do not know why I am doing any of this. At first, I thought that it was because of what I had been through in my universe. However, I have come to realize that that is not the reason why. I do not know why, but I cannot stop now."

I said, "You can change anytime, sweetie."

She shook her head and then replied, "It is too late, Father."

I assured her, "It's never too late, Akira." Then, on a hunch, I asked, "Is it your mother?"

She paused for a moment as she looked at me. Then, she replied, "I thought so too for a while, but I don't think so anymore. She has a presence in my mind, but her separation from her powers has rendered her weak. I think seeing what you and this version of her has together did the rest to her. What happened at NATO when the tank collapsed the building was the last gasp of her power. I can even feel her anger inside of me withering away."

I was caught off guard hearing that it was not the other Alma that was controlling Akira. I suppose that I had wanted for someone else to blame for her actions because I wanted to believe that she was an innocent victim. Since the other Alma was actually all but gone in Akira, that meant that the little girl was truly responsible for the horrible things that she had done. However, it still seemed impossible that she had it in her to be so evil.

She sensed my thoughts and smiled warmly at me before she said, "I think...sometimes...we are pawns that are powerless to do anything other than to serve our purposes, Father. I do not like what I do, but I cannot stop myself. Believe me I have tried. I want to be saved from myself. To live with you and Mother, Amara, and...and Uncle. I want a normal life. I want to be loved. Believe me, Father, I do. However, that life, I cannot have. I have a purpose, Father. Whether I like it or not, I must fulfill it."

Confused, I asked, "What is your purpose, Akira?"

She smiled sadly before she explained, "To give you and your universe a reason to exist. Even if you hate me, Father, just know that I am doing this because I love you so much that I am willing to destroy myself so that you, Uncle, Amara, and the Spartans can have life. I love you Daddy...I want you to live. Even if it means my death, I will fulfill my purpose so that you will live."

Shocked and confused, I said, "I...I don't understand..." Then, realization hit me so hard that my mind was temporarily shell-shocked. I asked, "Is there someone threatening you to do this?"

She smiled sadly once more before she replied, "Threaten is not the word."

Wanting to protect her, I assured her, "Akira, I can protect you from whomever it is that is making you do all these things. I will protect you, sweetie. Tell me, who is doing these things to you?"

Akira closed her eyes and her lips quivered as if she was trying not to cry as she replied, "Not even you are strong enough to rescue me, Father. Perhaps, there will be mercy for me...I don't deserve it, but there might be."

Heartbroken, I started to reach for her as I said, "Akira..."

However, she stopped me by saying with a sad tone, "Time to go back, Father. I enjoyed this game. I love you, Daddy. Please, don't hate me."

Before I could reach her, a bright light came over my vision. When my sight returned, I was distraught to find myself at the top of the tower in the war-torn city of Anchorage. I looked down to see my soldiers rushing towards the tower as they gave off a thunderous chorus of war cries. I could feel the effects of Akira's influence beginning to wear off as the hot air around me had turned colder.

My thoughts were racing. What did Akira mean? What or who was making her do all these horrible things? She clearly did not want to do them. The unwavering belief that even I could not rescue her from the entity responsible for her actions was frightening. She knew that Alma would be at my side.

The existence of an entity that was more powerful than Alma was impossible. She was related to two of the most powerful entities in mythology. As Alpha 1 had told me in his story and by her own admission, her linage could be traced back to Zeus himself because she was the direct descendant of the goddess Athena. In modern terms, she was a granddaughter of God.

If even Alma was outmatched by this unknown entity, why could I not sense its presence? Surely, such a powerful entity would have a signature that would be nearly impossible to ignore let alone feel. None of this made any sense. However, if this entity was indeed responsible for all of these injustices, then I would find it and make it pay.

Alma suddenly said as she appeared next to me, "Let it go, Michael."

Shocked, I asked, "Alma, how could you say that? Do you know...?"

My goddess interrupted me, "Yes, leave it at that. This is the one thing that I must keep from you. Please, don't hate me. I am keeping it from you to protect you. Ignorance is mercy in this case...okay? Trust me. Please, just leave it be my love."

Her quiet desperation caused my resolve to falter and I said, "Very well, I shall leave it alone."

She whispered, "Thank you."

From behind us, Foxtrot 813 advised me, "Commander, the Americans are approaching. Suggest that you claim the flag now, sir."

Remembering the bet, I quickly looked around. We were on the roof of the tower. The flat area was a circle about the size of two basketball courts placed side-by-side. As I looked towards the center of the roof of the tower, I saw a stainless steel flagpole approximately ten feet tall. At the very top of the pole, I saw the blood colored flag of Akira's Forces.

I rushed forward as I said to Alpha 1, "Prepare to attach our flag."

He ran with me as he replied, "Already getting it out, brother."

When I reached the flagpole, I grabbed the rope and began to lower the flag. The sound of the rope turning its pulley's wheel filled the air as I quickly forced the hemp rope through the pulley with my gloved hands. Moments later, the flag was within reach. Foxtrot 813 reached up and grabbed it. Tearing it down, Foxtrot removed the flag from its clip mounts.

He had no sooner removed the bloody item before Alpha 1 displayed the Spartan Flag as he attached it to the rope. The instant that our flag was attached, I began to hoist it. As I did, I sensed something. Looking over the hunched right shoulder of Foxtrot as he was ripping the bloody flag apart with his hands, I spotted a helicopter that was not one of ours.

The helicopter was an American Black Hawk. Inside the exposed cargo bay, I saw an individual holding a camera and aiming it at us. Annoyance flared inside of me as I realized that it was a reporter that was capturing a picture of us raising our flag while ripping up Akira's flag. I informed my men, "Fucking reporter is taking our picture. If you want the world to know what you think of it, this is your chance."

Alma stood next to me as she asked, "Is that a good idea, Michael?"

I snorted before I replied, "Who cares? It's not like they are going to ever do anything with the picture."

She shrugged before she said, "Fine...let's do it."

I nodded as I smirked. As I sensed the individual about to take the picture, I quickly extended my right arm in the direction of the helicopter, balled my right hand into a fist with the back of it facing the camera, and raised the middle finger of my right hand.

Facing the Black Hawk, Foxtrot 813 performed the traditional "Up yours" expression with his arms as he stood on the remains of the ripped up flag.

In a combat stance, Alpha 1 faced the helicopter with his KA-BAR Marine Corps Fighting Knife crossed in front of his chest in his left hand with the lethal blade angled forward and his elbow bent as if he was about to stab someone. Meanwhile, he had The Hammer raised up into the air at a slight angle in his right hand.

Finally, Alma, in her child form, stood slightly in front of us with her right hand raised up towards the helicopter. Levitating above the flattened palm of her right hand was a miniature Earth that was engulfed in flames.

The individual took the picture and we returned to raising our flag. As I hoisted it, Alma commented, "I am still not sure that was a good idea."

I assured her, "Trust me, Alma, no one will ever see that photo."

A few years later

We stood before the object as we continued to examine it. The sunlight shined on the reflective, polished exterior of the large brass object. A plaque with etched descriptions of the "Day of Alaska's Liberation" was before the main part of the memorial.

Our silence was broken when Foxtrot 813 commented, "I am not that fat."

There, with an impressive amount of detail, was a large brass replication of the photo taken that day. Much like the staged scene of the marines hoisting the American flag on Iwo Jima, the scene of us hoisting the Spartan flag had been turned into a monument for all to see and remember. There we were facing in the same direction as we performed our shenanigans. I was on the far right side giving everyone the finger, Foxtrot 813 was in the center just in front of the pole giving everyone an "Up yours", Alpha 1 was on the far left side of the pole about to stab someone with his KA-BAR, and Alma was standing before us all with the burning Earth levitating above her right hand.

After looking up her statue's dress, Alma complained, "Hey! I wasn't wearing underwear! Who's the dirty pervert who included a set of panties in the design?! I'm going to kill them!"

Somewhat in shock that they had actually done this, I remarked, "I'll be damned. Really, they didn't have another image to use? Oh well, at least I have been immortalized as a statue giving future generations the finger...isn't that every man's dream?"

Alpha 1 said, "At least, they listed the callsigns of our fallen brothers on the plaque along with the names of the U.S. Marines that fell that day...even though the American names are in bigger font...it is still nice that they bothered to remember the Spartans that gave their life to liberate Alaska."

I replied with a serious tone, "I agree, my brother. History should never forget their sacrifice."

I finished raising our flag and tied off the rope. Less than a minute later, a group of marines reached the top of the spiral staircase. As they approached us with their Patten Assault Rifles in their grasp, I asked, "What was that about embarrassing ourselves Devil Dog?"

Their leader stood before me with his face covered by a ballistic facemask similar to the ones worn by Delta Force Operatives. At that moment, Point Man, Dark Signal, F.E.A.R., and their teams appeared at the top of the staircase. Upon seeing that we had beaten the Americans to the flag, they gave off a celebratory cry. Moments later, they had all gathered behind me as Alpha 1 stood beside me on the right while Alma stood next to me on the left.

The Marine Leader remarked, "You are welcome for the help, freaks. Even though you vastly outnumbered us and still only barely beat us to the flag, I would like to congratulate you on your victory. No disrespect intended."

He turned to leave. As he walked away with his men, I muttered, "Yeah...disrespect like your momma."

The American soldier stopped and demanded, "What did you say?"

I laughed slightly before I said, "I said: your momma is so fat that Norton Mapes said DAMN."

The marine turned back towards me and began to walk towards me. When he had returned to standing before me, he challenged me, "Why don't you say that to my face?"

Reducing my mask to ash with my abilities so that my face was visible, I replied, "I would but you are too much of a bitch to show it."

He nodded slowly for a moment before he motioned towards my vest and commented, "Nice set of American Military armor. I see that DoD badge on your shoulder, Spartan. This is all pretty big talk for a traitorous whore that betrayed his country. You aren't in your tiny shithole of a country Spartan, this is American soil."

I laughed before I said to my allies, "Hear that, my friends? He says that this is American soil." They replied with a round of laughter. Then, I motioned towards the Spartan flag atop the flagpole and said, "American? Marine, you have the audacity to claim ownership of this place while our flag is flying above your head?"

My body became surrounded by a red aura as I yelled, "THIS IS SPARTA!" Launching my booted right foot forward, I front kicked the soldier square in his chest. The force of my kick sent the man flying backwards through the air about a foot. When he landed on the stone surface of the tower's roof, the section under him gave way.

Crying out in shock, the soldier fell through the hole and disappeared as he plummeted down through the darkness of the interior of the tower. The tower must have been hollow because his cries could be heard for almost thirty seconds until they suddenly ceased. Trying to hide the fact that I was just as surprised as everyone else, I informed the other marines, "Yeah...that's right...let that be a warning to the rest of you. No one had better mention that in their report either...because I meant to do that...Sparta...hear us roar...and stuff."

About a week later, after we had finished securing Alaska, I entered the room of the Pentagon where the "world's" military leaders were gathered with Alpha 1, Alma, and my face concealed beneath my skull mask. As we entered, they all looked at us with mixed expressions of fear, gratitude, resentment, and confusion. Among them, I recognized Betters. I stopped before them and then addressed the men, "Gentlemen, Sparta now controls Alaska and its oil. I think you all know what that means." Except for Betters, who nodded at me, they all looked at each other for a moment.

When they looked back at me, I smirked and then said, "That's right ladies...Sparta is large and in charge. The days of you ungrateful bastards talking down to us are over. We run this shit now."

An individual wearing a formal suit barked, "This is an outrage!"

I failed to see any indication that the man had even a day of military experience. The observation revealed that our political purge during the evacuation of the other countries had not been complete. I asked, "Wait? Are you a politician?"

The political figure replied, "I am the President of the Federal Republic of Germany. I demand that you, your bodyguard, and your daughter leave at once!"

Activating my reflexes, I drew my .44 magnum revolver from its holster and fired a round into the man's head. The powerful round compromised the back of the man's skull and his body slumped to the ground. After deactivating my reflexes, I began to calmly return my revolver to its holster as I commented, "Alright, that completes our arrangement with the Angel of Death."

After securing my sidearm, I addressed the remaining occupants of the room, "Get it now, gentlemen?"

Alma addressed them with her child form's voice, "You are all our playthings now."

I finished, "So, here is what is going to happen..."