Author's Note: Hello Lads and Ladies

I'm terribly sorry for the excruciating wait time for this one. I was caught in a bought of major depression while also being overrun with sickness the last month. I'm so very sorry.

My work situation is keeping me on my toes when it comes to working on the story. At this point after work i wanna do nothing but take a shower and play video games. But don't worry fellas, I'm gonna restructure parts of my schedule to be more consistent. Love ya and hope you enjoy Chapter 9. I'm really liking the middle section

Edited by: SuperAverageFoxyboy, The dude who likes Tanks
Enjoy!
-Portal

Chapter 9: Feel Our Wrath

Legosi held the last piece of his suit in his hands, feeling dread rise in his stomach. None of what he had seen on TV prepped him for this, none of the media produced an image resembling this. The wolf sat in the locker room, the specialized lockers wide enough to hold the set of armor that was Cerberus agent uniform, fully decked in the bullet proof material that decked the front of his torso and hid his grey fur in black and dark blue fabric. He held the wolf-sized enclosed mask. It opened at the back to allow him to slip in face first, his muzzle resting in a prolonged muzzle cover, wide enough to allow him to speak over the intercoms.

It was a sleek design that felt like cool metal against his hands. He wasn't one for watching many movies and among the ones he had seen this was completely new. Of course, it feels different when I'm the one putting the mask on.

He heard his fellow soldier's metal boots clank against the floor, ready to engage for their first mission. He looked at the door for a second and then peered at his mask. Up until now, there was a clear level of separation between him and the matter at hand. Training was play pretend where he could turn off his head, outside with the others in the city he wouldn't have that option.

He breathed out one last time, thinking of mother.

I am not at fault for my strength, but for how I use it.

The wolf stood up putting on the enclosed helmet to his suit. He grabbed at the ring-like collar around his neck and pulled it up to meet with the bottom of his suit, closing the circuit. The inlaid display of the mask booted up, minimalist data at the side of his screen. Nightfall had already come, his clock reading 11:24 PM.

He grabbed his rifle and held it low to the ground as he left the locker room. He wandered through the room, feeling like if he were to look in the mirror he would see a shape that he couldn't recognize. His carnivore features were amplified in their shape, the suit amplifying his feel of being a true predator.

As he entered the back of his designated vehicle he had another disheartening thought.

Things were happening too fast. The enlisted had been training for three months at most. It was strenuous training with every day filled with as much physical as well as mental exercise as was possible to be cramped into a day, however still it felt rushed.

Legosi was sure Yahya wanted the best that he could get, and apperently the time frame of action called for under-trained soldiers. Optimal soldiers but non-refined ones.

"Strike Team Charlie – Headcount."

"Captain Ulysses, In Charge." The leader of their specific mission answered to a radio call from the HQ center a few floors down in the building. His fellow soldiers started to rattle off their names, Legosi being the last.

"Team Intact, Ready for deployment."

Within seconds the covert vehicle started moving, driving outwards to their mission. Funnily enough, the person he thought of first when driving out there was their neighbor living a couple of doors down from them. He felt renewed vigor as he again began to realize what he needed to do was vital for the survival of his country.

"Our objective is clearing Apartment 302 in the target location. Omnivora activity has been sighted in the area and the nice folks at HQ found out that the tenant of Apartment 302 is an ex-convict with connections to Melon himself. Stay silent, do not panic the citizens, and detain the main suspect." Their Captain, a veteran soldier said in a calm friendly voice, his age apparent from the strain on the said voice.

Legosi's Thoughts ruminated for only a bit longer until the van finally stopped and the back doors opened. The inside of his suit was cool as they walked out on the street towards the building.

They entered the building in perfect form, a line of soldiers up the stairs, sure-footed and quiet. Captain Ulysses was out front, leading up to the third floor. They stopped in front of the door and Legosi's ears stood upwards in his helmet. There were small metal coverings for their ears, enough space for them to move properly in all directions The material there was lighter, allowing proper intake of noise surrounding them.

Legosi became hyper-aware of everything around him. The feeling of armor plating and fabric pushing against his skin, the sound of a television playing in the background, the weight of his weapon in his arms, the slight itch at his wrist, and the feeling of the ground beneath him.

Adrenaline was going through his veins the speed of a bullet train. The soldiers approached the door and time began to move oh so slowly, the air around him turning into a syrup-like consistency.

He watched the captain send forward the specialist for breaking open door locks, who then delicately inserted two long metal pins into the vertical key slit. After finicking for about twenty seconds the door unlocked, allowing access within.

Silent like thieves, Captain Ulysses placed himself out front, readying his men for entering. Legosi was the fifth in a row, just one team member behind him.

"Entering apartment now."

Besides the voice, the world had become one inhabited by deafening silence. The television that he could he prior had gone quiet, and although he was sure he would be able to hear the footsteps of the apartment's tenants from which the TV had sounded, there were none. Besides the nearly non-existent noise of shoes clacking against the hardwood floors, there was this violent and unfriendly quiet that drowned out everything. The vacuum had gained a voice and that voice was no friend to any living person.

The first part of the apartment was a tight corridor acting as the wardrobe. The men followed quietly as the Captain lead with a raised rifle, towards the open living room. When Legosi stepped onto the metal lining of the doorway the violent void of sound was replaced with a dull thud followed by the bursting of concrete and wood. His vision went white when he stumbled back.

His heart pounded in his chest, his last compatriot behind him holding him up as the two looked at what the explosion had caused. The wall had collapsed on the three soldiers that had entered first. The fourth one, right in front of Legosi was leaning against the door, his weapon laying on the floor.

Legosi felt the familiar warmth of energy sprint through his body, fully activating his muscles into reaction. He grabbed for the soldier in front of him, lowering him to the floor in a seated position. He turned for the last man of his team.

"Bring him downstairs and call for pickup and medical help." He ordered the soldier who quickly followed suit, picking their dazed and hurt companion off the floor onto his shoulders.

Legosi ran to the rubble, clasping his fingers under a wall segment laying on the others. He used his whole strength, propping the wall up from at least one of his teammates, shoving it into the now utterly destroyed bathroom, the place where the bomb had been. He pulled the barely conscious soldier out from the rubble, laying him down outside where the other one had been laid down prior.

His fingers grasped at the helmet, feeling for the release at the back. He was careful to pick the right one, opening the muzzle bit up to allow the injured one to breathe fresh air.

"Do not move your head, try to stay as stable as you can."

He moved back to the rubble, moving more bits and pieces out of the way as he could. When he reached the next soldier, he checked for signs of life. The last soldier had barely survived, a stroke of luck in him being the third that he even still breathed but the second in a row was without question dead. There was a crack in the helmet, blood flowing freely from it. Legosi in his heightened state of awareness, the feelings dulled under the influence of the adrenaline, realized that neither Captain Ulysses nor the second in line had survived.

"Rest in peace, Ulysses and Gonzo"

He peered through the destroyed wall, the place where the bathroom had been was now a small part of desolation on the building's floor plan. The outside wall had blown out, probably raining onto the neighbor's yard like small meteor fragments, and to the left, the connecting wall between the apartments had crumbled.

Thinking on his feet Legosi walked over to the neighbor's door and with all his might kicked the door in. He walked through the door, the door's closing mechanism broken beyond repair.

When he stood in the living room he saw the same completely abandoned apartment as the one that they just had entered. Cables were spread out from the door and beside the wide open balcony door stood a detonator box, the turned key still in the console.

"They planned this…" Legosi spoke to himself, watching the night coolness enter the room while his adrenaline slowly wore off.

Play with fire, you'll get burned.


In the parking garage of an accounting firm stood a silver car. Now anyone who'd watched movies in the last fifty years instantly recognized the Delorean DMC-12, famous for its time-traveling misadventures in the American cult classic of 1985, but this car was no time machine. And anybody who'd see it coming and who knew anything about cars would surely notice the differences between doctor Emmet's favorite car and this one.

The front glass plate had been reinforced numerous times, enough that there was obvious rubber lining at the outside of the bulletproof glass, making for easier removal and much easier replacement. The metal frame of the car had been reinforced with spare plates of steel that came to a point at the front of the hood where metal plating with exposed sharp iron bars functioning as a make-shift battering ram was welded to the chassis.

Behind the wheel sat the reason for the violent car. The eagle took a draw of his cigarette, breathing out through his nose. He wore his infamous letterman jacket that was renowned in the underworld for being the last thing you'd recognize if he came for you. He spun his car keys around the feathery finger of his right hand while his left had laid still upon the burner phone. The radio had been replaced with short wave radio,the perfect frequency to listen to policemen's chatter.

Half a minute after the explosion killed Captain Ulysses and Lieutenant Gonzo, his phone began to ring. Richard wasted no time picking it up and holding it to his head.

"We drew first blood, you got fifteen minutes." The line disconnected and Richard broke the flip phone into two pieces, disposing it inside of a carton in his passenger seat.

With a movement he knew by heart, he placed the key in the ignition turned it, and started the car. The Delorean swerved over the empty parking garage, driving past the destroyed parking gate on its way to the main street.

Richard drove past the accounting firm, entering the industrial district by means of a service road filled with trucks but their cars were no match for his speed demon. The engine block had been pimped and besides the chassis, this car really was no longer a Delorean.

His car took him to an unassuming warehouse, one that seemed to hold nothing but spare car parts, pipes, cable, or any other kind of industrial material. Richard knew better. The car door swung upwards and Richard began walking towards the Gate at the front of the property it stood upon.

The gate guard sitting in the cabinet was a Panther that eyed him suspiciously.

"Sir this is-" The guard saw the large eagle pull a gun and then ceased to exist, a fine bullet hole in the center of his forehead the indicating factor that he met his end by the means of a firearm Richard put on the safety of his pistol and proceeded to smash the butt of the gun into brittle glass, the shattered pane of glass falling into thousands of little pieces over the guard's corpse. He cleaned off any shards still stuck in the frame and leaned inside, grabbing for the guard's utility belt. After obtaining his key he opened the gate and walked to the fortress of the enemy.

He had studied floorplans, blueprints that had come into the hands of some of the high-level agents under Melon's employment. Richard never learned any of their names, neither did he care. Melon was his only contact and more was not required, more mouths than one were needless risk. Though he did remember that he respected their stellar work in gaining information.

The first two guards he met fell to the quickdraw of his pistol. He took the stairs up, stopping every turn to ready himself in case of ambush. Once he reached the correct floor the white lights began to flash red as his presence became known to the powers that be.

He grabbed the purple key card that had been among to items of his mission assignment. He spent another moment checking his bullet count, his magazine still holding five shots, he had used a second bullet for both guards in the building. Anything besides a confirmed kill wasn't safe enough. He used the key card, pulled the door open, and walked behind it. The guards in the hallway were cocky and nervous, pre-firing into the empty hallway, yet they were smart enough to not empty their mags.

Richard took the keycard and unlocked the next door into an auxiliary hallway, the personnel break area. He moved over and with unending patience he plucked the wiring off the back of the coffee machine, readying a little distraction. He hid behind one of the pillars that awkwardly stood in the small cafeteria-type area. and waited patiently until the guards finally abided their curiosity and moved forward. They opened the door to the personnel area at the same time the coffee machine began to crackle and burn in the corner of the room.

The three moved forwards while Richard plotted their movement purely on movement. He stood behind a pillar roughly 15 yards away from them, tables and chairs being the great divider of the room. He leaped forward when he heard the last come into view. The first two fell on the floor, their armor proving to be completely useless against someone who knew exactly where to hit them. The third staggered, the bullet injuring but not killing him. Richard saw the nervous asshole grab for his gun. Richard charged forward and kicked a chair forward, hitting the soldier squarely to the ground, a shot firing off in Richard's direction.

He ran forward, just quick enough to step onto the firearm, the barrage of shots out of the automatic rifle firing off against the wall. Richard flicked forward his gun and dispatched a clear shot to the head, ending another. He walked forwards to the other guards, double tapping with a shot to the head.

He dropped the empty mag into his back pocket and grabbed a full one from the front of his mag. He wandered back to the hallway, walking through following the memorized floorplans. He checked every turn for a convoy, sure he was to encounter another. But besides a few men that ran into him and quickly met their end by his quickdraw there really was no heat here. In recollection, Melon had described a worse situation.

Richard grunted when he realized that Yahya truly had sent nearly all men on missions tonight, completely forgetting to protect the HQ. He really had expected more of a fight. He entered the armory, taking as much ammo as fit into the bandoleers under his jacket. Then he continued onwards towards the control room, the red lights still flashing, only three minutes having passed since the alarm sounded.

When he finally reached the server room, the hallways were still empty. Richard was starting to think that Melon had seriously overestimated Yahya. The door opened and as soon as the thought had come into his mind so was he face to face with the devil in black. Richard always expected a fight, no matter how innocuous a situation. A hitman was always on guard If they wanted to survive their business.

Richard charged forward, the horse having a split second to pull the trigger of his gun. A shot rang out and the muscled arm of the eagle launched the pistol against one of the servers. Rich felt no need to check himself for wounds, he had felt no pain. Before the devil could speak any words Richard had thrown the first punch, with no intention of stopping.

There was a moment where Yahya dodged the first and second punches, barely the third one, and a partial hit on the fourth. Richard was renowned for being a quick killer, and the stories of marks he had eliminated that were twice his size were not very calming. However, Yahya thought himself immune to being eliminated by the rebels. The state would use drastic folks on domestic terrorists.

The fight continued with Yahya barely getting any hits in, and even when they barely slowed the eagle down. Gaining distance was impossible based on the quick movement of the eagle.

"Halt-" Yahya made the mistake of speaking, feathery fingers grabbing onto his head and smashing him against the wall. There was a moment when Richard simply held him against the wall, lifting him up without any stress.

"You tough basta-" The eagle threw the horse against the other side of the room, and Yahya's illusions of grandeur stopped for a minute. Years of experience didn't mean anything if his muscles were weakened by age and his prolonged stint in politics. He knew how to climb a building, assume a fake persona as a security auditor, but he had been out of practice with punishing actual criminals. He felt the strong hands of the eagle grab onto the back of his head and crash his head onto the floor. Dazed he barely felt the hands come again only to feel a much duller sensation of pressure on the left side of his head and suddenly darkness surrounded him.

Richard looked upon the devil in black and exhaled. Melon had forbidden him from killing Yahya, meaning his actions were limited. He pulled the horse upwards into a seated position against the server and began placing the flash drive in his pocket into one of the ports on the server and waited out the timer. After forty-five seconds he pocketed the drive again.

He left the room back down the hallway, his hand itching for the incendiary grenade on his tool belt. He reached the filing room and began the second part of his mission. He grabbed out stacks of filing, scanning each, dropping those that he did not need into the center of the room. When he heard a group of soldiers running down the hallway he had concluded that time was running out. He pulled the pin on the grenade and tossed it into a pile of files in the center of the room, walking out with his pistol raised.

He exited the building a minute later, only one of the soldier trucks having returned home. He walked past the military vehicle, through the gate, and sat back down in his Delorean. He flicked the car keys in the ignition, his car turning over the driveway and down the service road. The car passed another truck, one in which a panicking wolf tried his best to keep his fellow privates stable, and disappeared into the night.


The truck stopped at a considerable speed, shaking the passengers. Legosi felt his stress heighten as he saw one of his fellow privates knock their heads against the metal end of the trucks inside.

"You ok? Breathe." He placed his hands on their chest, keeping them in their seats.

The truck doors opened, the driver stepping in.

"Legosi, the stretcher." He followed the command and readied the stretcher.

"Ok, Ok. You hear me kiddo, this'll hurt but we'll fix you up inside. Ok, one… two, three." They lifted one onto the stretcher and then began the careful process of carrying the injured down from the truck into the warehouse.

The opening halls of the warehouse looked like a subway terminal. Long benches with plastic seating, blocked the large room into little walkways.

"Set him down here." The driver was a veteran, one that obviously had seen stress of this magnitude before. Lieutenant Daisuke lowered the stretcher and immediately started moving the benches out of the way.

"We need to clear the area for the medical personnel." Legosi followed without inquiry.

They brought every last man from the truck into the main hall until the next truck came and brought even more. Over the next half hour three-quarters of the total count of trucks returned, the rest lost among the police radio chatter that described car bombs blocking the motorways and the subway out of town grinding to a halt.

Over the ensuing chaos, Legosi and some of the uninjured among the teams grouped together under the lead of Lieutenant Daisuke. And a minute later they ascended the stairs to level 5, where the door was standing open wide, dead guards littering the floor.

The hallways were not as bloody as expected, however, the number of dead guards told them enough about what happened. They had hit HQ perfectly at the moment when they had all left for their missions, leaving it defenseless.

They went down the hallways, counting bodies and losing hope with every addition to the counter. They finally reached the server room, Legosi first in line, opening the door with a raised rifle.

The very first time that Legosi ever saw the Beastar outside of a political context, was a bruised mess laying on the floor, sparks of broken electrical panels accentuating the black shadow he was on the gray concrete floor.

"Sublime Beastar Yahya!" Legosi jumped forward, placing his rifle on the ground, safety on. He observed the nature of his injuries, using a flashlight to inspect some of the wounds.

"Sublime Beastar Yahya, can you hear me?" Daisuke walked through the soldiers, all of which had surrounded the black horse. He seemed unresponsive when lightly shaken, but then began to stir.

"ugh…" the horse moaned in pain as he braced himself against the floor, pushing himself up, barely moving up. With the help of Legosi and Lieutenant Daisuke, the horse finally was in a seated position.

"You ok, Yahya? Any dizziness or confusion?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, Lieutenant. Do I look fine to you?" Yahya's voice was gruff and drained.

"No, sir."

"There you have your answer. Now get the medical unit and call for backup… bastard broke something." The horse felt along his chest, flinching at a couple spots. He moved his legs and slapped Legosi's hand away as he wordlessly offered his help.

"I need Chief Max on the phone, a few birds in the sky, and something to drink."

"Right away, sir." The group followed the shambling leader of their country up the stairs, the horse seemingly not reacting to any of the carnage around him. They reached the driveway of the warehouse, military vehicles standing left and right.

"How can I help, Lieutenant?" Legosi asked his superior.

"Stay by Sublime Beastar Yahya. Make sure he doesn't fall over or lose consciousness."

Legosi followed the command, staying by the Sublime Beastar's side out in the parking space. With moans of pain, he sat down, grabbing for a pack of cigarettes in his pants.

There they were, soldier and general in the parking garage. Only this time the general was the one with wounds all over his body, while the soldier sat by, unharmed, keeping guard.

Legosi remained silent, looking at nowhere in particular. He held his gun towards the ground, anxious about the Sublime Beastar's disposition. He felt weird tonight overall. Something terrible had happened yet none of it had reached him yet. This was all seperate to his normal orientation of the world. He might just as well be asleep at home right now, cuddled up to his mate, a weird dream making him ask bizarre questions. Yet nothing that threw him off.

"What happened during your mission?"

"Explosives, sir," Legosi answered plainly.

"How many casualties?"

"Captain Ulysses and Private Gonzo." Again he replied plainly, too plainly for his own liking. The reality of those deaths hadn't reached him yet. Legosi felt almost confirmed in his own beliefs when he looked at the sublime Beastar. He was smoking a cigarette, much like Doctor Gouhin did after a hard day at work. It was normal what happened, the events of before were nothing but a fluke. A single look at the many military vehicles told him no, that this wasn't a fluke.

"They planned it," Legosi said, unaware while deep in his mind.

"I need to know how," Yahya answered, pain wreaking through him again as he stood up. They walked together over the asphalt parking lot, looking for a vehicle. Around the corner of the building sat parked a black car.

"Want to make yourself useful, Private Legosi?"

"I was ordered to make sure you were ok." The Sublime beastar smirked at Legosi's innocent answer.

"Then I order you to follow me to the state building. Now get in the damn car." Legosi followed the order with a bit of hesitation. A few minutes later they were driving down the street to the state building.