CHAPTER NINE: EVIL INCARNATE
Another news report flashed across his computer screen. This was the delayed tape… the full version that the media couldn't play. "Thanks for the patch, Firewall, it's working..." General Hawk said through the intercom, leaning forward in his office chair.
A female voice answered back through the speaker, "Yes, sir." The normally cheerful Firewall was clearly stoic; Hawk didn't have to see her to figure that out.
Alone in his quiet office General Hawk stared intently at the screen, watching carefully as the terrorists appeared on camera. It was hard to tell where they were… some dark, abandoned concrete building, perhaps. Somewhere deep within Borovia.
His six soldiers were sitting against the wall, all in a row: Shipwreck, Torpedo, Leatherneck, Gung-Ho, Wet Suit, and Deep Six. All of them had shackles on their hands and ankles, and armed guards dressed in black uniforms and wearing black masks flanked the prisoners on each side… standing menacingly over them and proudly pointing their weapons at them, as if they were hunted trophies that had been put on display. This was a crowning moment for the guards; they stood tall, clearly savoring the moment of being on top, overflowing with a great amount of satisfaction.
One of the terrorists, standing back in the shadows, seemed to be in charge. He appeared to wear some kind of armor… armor with a dark gray tint, and also wearing a mask… or helmet – it was hard to tell. Even if he hadn't been in the shadows, his face still couldn't be seen. But his eyes penetrated the darkness. Each one was composed of a soft blue glowing light – part of his helmet, Hawk deduced.
This terrorist wasn't the same one that spoke on the news network previously; in fact, this one spoke in Borovian. Firewall, who had spoke enough Borovian to translate, typed the words at the bottom of the screen through a language translating software program as fast as she could, translating his Borovian speech into English.
Stepping out of the shadows and into the light, the armored man spoke: ...Even though it is our right to kill these vermin that invaded our country, slain many of Borovias finest and noblest soldiers, murdered many of our women and children, destroyed many of our hard earned economic sources, and attempted to steal our technology – hoping to use it against us, we have instead tried to negotiate with America peacefully.
My ass. It's hard to believe some people actually believe this bullshit, Hawk thought to himself as he listened to the transparent lies of the masked warlord.
It wasn't hard for Hawk to psycho-analyze his every word, motion, and body movement – not much got by him. Still, the terrorist had an agenda, and it wasn't easy to see just yet. What's his angle? Who is he trying to turn against America… his people? Other countries? This almost sounds like a recruitment tape…
Our response has been met with violence; many other Americans have been sent in to kill us, but we have resisted them. Negotiations have failed. All we wanted was these murderers out of our country, but we can see now we have no choice but to fight. All of you who listen, join our plight. Refuse to give in to these monsters. Take up arms against them. Repel the fear they send you… give that fear back to them.
Hawk had noticed that, as the terrorist moved into the dingy light provided by a single hanging lightbulb in the room, he had some kind of strange attachment to on arm. Part of the armor? No… some kind of firearm.
The terrorist, with his opposite hand, reached over to cock the weapon. Let the world know that this is what happens to those who defy us; who hate us and who invade us without cause or reason.
He pointed it at the prisoners. His speech was passionate and overwhelming; the guards in the room were getting fired up and started cheering loudly, but the masked speaker continued his speech, raising his voice over them.
Let the world know what we think of America, and what everyone thinks of America! They try to conquer us with fear… yet we shall turn that fear back upon them! NO MORE NEGOTIATIONS!!
Turning to the captured troops, aiming his gun, he randomly selected one of the soldiers…
And fired away, blasting the prisoner square in the chest.
The surviving prisoners tried to get up, yelling… screaming, and infuriated; they were overwhelmed with anger and shock, but they were helpless. Helpless to save their team mate, who lay slumped over, who had instantly died, bleeding out from the single blast to his chest where his heart used to be. Still, it took all of the guards in the room to kick the prisoners back down.
The face of Leatherneck was as white as a sheet, as most of his blood had already drained out on the rundown concrete floor.
The guards cheered, firing their weapons above their heads in triumph. The scene was anarchy. Chaos. Pure pandemonium.
The gunman spoke one last time to the camera, Maybe now America will take us serious. Maybe now they will finally be willing to pay us back the millions of dollars we have asked for so we can repair and rebuild what these… cockroaches… have destroyed. Maybe now they will leave our country alone. America, pay us what is ours, what you have taken from us, what you have destroyed of ours. Or else one more will die. You have three days.
General Hawk felt ill. The camera zoomed in on Leatherneck's dead body. He muted the sound on the computer so he didn't have to hear the cheers of celebration from the murdering bastards.
You guys better get there soon; we're running out of time, Hawk thought, thinking of Tango Team. This plan better work or our boys aren't coming home...