Chapter 1: A New Face

The sun started to rise over the Pridelands, illuminating the sapphire sky, bringing forth a new day. The light shined over the hills, buildings, towns and streets. The new light slowly bringing the capital city to life, the new light to lead them to a new face. Even at 6:48 am, people had already left there houses and were on there way to the Royal palace see the reveal of the King Mufasa's son live. Every single inch of road was packed with cars, each with the same destination. Every single television was tuned in, each with the same program running.

While the Traffic Jams raged and horns tooted and wailed, One car sped past them all, escorted by police. The black Mercedes belonged to none other than the king's majordomo and head of security, Zazu. He raced along the freeway and eventually came to his exit: the only one that lead to palace. Thank God I bought the supercharged model. Zazu thought as he shifted the gear down. He eventually came to the palace security gate. He stopped next to the booth and lowered his sunglasses. "I.D Sir?" The guard in the booth requested. Zazu reached into his shirt pocket and revealed his badge. "Welcome sir." The man said with a smile. Zazu rolled his eyes, any more stops like these and he would be late. He stamped down on the accelerator and his car disappeared with a screech of tires and some smoke. He eventually reached his designated parking space. As soon as the car came to halt he pushed open the door and ran towards the elevator. He entered his security PIN and pushed the 38th floor button. Come on, come on. He thought to himself as the elevator ascended painfully slow. He wouldn't be late because of some slow elevator

He waited anxiously in the elevator until he heard the important Ding Dong the 38th floor. The doors opened and charged down the corridor. He finally reached the door he'd been rushing to reach. He could hear the commotion on the other side. He took a moment to straighten his tie and fix his grey hair before he knocked. The door opened and Zazu saw the sight he'd rushed there to see. A muscle bound King Mufasa stood in the doorway. Tall, reddish brown hair combed back; an expensive suit and gentle smile all matched his personality. "Welcome old friend!" The King said as his smile grew larger. The two embraced for a moment. "How's the family? Zazu asked. "We're all ready for the presentation, how about you?" Mufasa answered. "As ready as I'll ever be." Zazu said wiping the sweat from his forehead. Mufasa chuckled, knowing what he'd just been through. They made their way to the window overlooking the Mohatu Monument Park. Thousands upon thousands of people had made it to the presentation. Big screens and television cameras mounted all over the place. People stood crammed in next to each other waving Prideland national flags and poking cameras and phones out above them.

Mufasa closed the window. "Bigger turnout than ever, more than 100,000 people." Zazu nodded. They were then interrupted by another knock on the door. A security guard opened it for them. It was the family priest; Rafiki. He also gave the King the same warm greeting. "So where's the little guy?" Rafiki asked with his usual grin. "Right over there." Mufasa pointed to the sofa on which his wife Sarabi sat, cradling a baby in her arms. Rafiki hobbled over and sat down. He picked up the baby and gave him the traditional blessing. "Simba..." he whispered. He looked at Mufasa and he nodded. They all made their way to the balcony overlooking the Monument Park.

The crowd suddenly silenced. The cameras then started to focus in on the 5 of them. Mufasa saw his face on the big screen and swallowed. He pulled the microphone close to his mouth. " Ladies, Gentlemen, Citizens of the pridelands, you are all here today to celebrate the dawn of a new era. A few days ago a baby was born to myself and my wife, your future leader and heir to the throne. May we all hope that he will lead us in the future as well as my predecessors and I have done in the past, May he continue this unending Circle of Life. The massive audience applauded him. He turned and nodded at Rafiki.

Everyone made way for the wise old priest. The crowd hushed. Rafiki took one last glance at the crowd and thrust the baby high into the air. The crowd then burst into cheers, several cameras flashed and the Television cameras focused in on Simba. Then a large majority of the crowd dropped to their knees or bowed. The baby opened his eyes. He saw how everyone knelt for him, and all the noise that followed. That child did not know the Royal position he was in, or how lucky he was.

Chapter 2: Little Bros

The hot pasta sauce bubbled in the pot as Scar watched it. He stared at it blankly then decided it could do with some more garlic. He reached into his pantry and produced a clove. He placed it on his cutting board. He put the knife in position to chop then hesitated. The radio had changed again. "We interrupt this song for a special announcement, King Mufasa's son has just been presented to a crowd of over 100,000 people, this new prince, named 'Simba'..." Scar turned off the radio before he could hear any more. He was sick of hearing about how 'Great' a king Mufasa was and how glorious his future was going to be. He was always the preferred one, and he was fed up with hearing about it. Even their own parents seemed to favor him more. And Scar hated them for that; he hated Mufasa for that as well. He was still second in line to the throne, but now that the King had a son, there was no way he was ever going to get the respect he desired so badly.

His iPhone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and found that the call was from Mufasa. He was probably calling about how he didn't go to the presentation this morning. He pressed the 'Decline Call' button and pocketed the phone. He then turned his attention back to his sauce and picked up the garlic he was about to chop. "Life's not fair is it?" He talked to the garlic as if it were an animate object. " You see I shall never be King, and you shall never see the light of another day." He positioned the knife above the garlic. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?" Zazu stood at his kitchen window, which he left open. "What do you want?" Scar asked rolling his eyes. "I thought I'd drop by and tell you that King Mufasa's on his way, so I presume you thought of a good excuse for missing the presentation this morning." He hated Zazu, how he kissed Mufasa's ass all the time and his pedantic attitude. "Not happy is he?" Scar asked sarcastically. "He's as pissed of as a panther with a prick in it's ass" Zazu exclaimed. "Ooo, I quiver with fear!" Scar's sarcasm was starting to get to Zazu. "You should." He whispered to Scar threateningly. That's it! Scar thought.

He grabbed Zazu by the throat and started to squeeze. "SCAR!" He turned around in surprise. Mufasa stood at the kitchen doorway, arms folded and had a very stern expression on his face. "Drop him." Scar released Zazu and pulled his arm back through the window. "First of all you shouldn't leave your house unlocked like that, secondly I don't want to see you touch Zazu like that again, and lastly why weren't you at the presentation this morning? You didn't answer any of my calls" Scar played dumb. "Was that today? Oh shit I'm sorry did I miss it?, slipped my mind I guess." "Well as slippery as your mind is, you're the King's brother and should've been first in line to congratulate him." He slammed the kitchen window shut so he wouldn't have to hear any more from Zazu. He then turned to Mufasa. "I was 'first in line', until you little maggot was born." Scar told Mufasa in an aggressive tone. "That 'maggot' is my son, and your future king."

"Well then I shall practice my courtesy." Scar turned off his stove and began to leave the kitchen. Mufasa grabbed his arm; "Don't turn your back on me Scar!" Mufasa ordered him. Scar pulled his hand off of his arm and continued to walk. "Perhaps you shouldn't turn your back on me." Mufasa grabbed his arm again and turned him so that Scar would face him. "Was that a threat?" Mufasa growled at him. " Temper, temper, I wouldn't dream of threatening you." Scar said anxiously. He was dying to get out of the kitchen and Mufasa's presence. He heard Zazu come through the front door. "Shame, I wonder why not?" Zazu said sarcastically. Scar turned his attention towards him. "Well as far as brains go I got a man's share, but when it comes to brutal strength..." Scar paused a second. "I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool." Scar started walking to his room. Mufasa turned to Zazu as he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. "Let's go." he said as he walked towards Scar's front door. "There's one in every family sir, and they always manage to ruin special occasions." Zazu reassured Mufasa while he buckled in his seat belt. Mufasa started the Range Rover's engine. " I wish I could trust him like I used to, he was a good man back then." He pulled out of Scar's driveway and drove onto the main road, where there was his police escort and a quite a few paparazzi waiting. The police's motorbikes pulled up next each side of his car and they made their way back to Pride palace as a thunderstorm started.

Chapter 3: The Circle of Life

12 YEARS LATER

Years passed, and Simba grew into a lively young boy. He spent a lot of time with his Father, Uncle Scar and best friend Nala (who he now secretly had a crush on). That day was a special day for him. His father had promised to take him up onto the roof of the palace, which overlooked the entire capital city. It was almost five AM, when the sun was expected to rise. Simba tiptoed down the corridor, making as little sound as possible. He checked every floorboard before he stepped on it so that there would be no unexpected noises. He eventually reached his parents room. He put his hand on the doorknob and turned it so slowly and carefully so that it made no noise what so ever. He pushed the door open and crept towards his parent's bed, and towards his father's side. "Dad, wake up!" He whispered. The king moaned and looked at his watch. "Jesus, Simba do you know how early it is?" Mufasa groaned. "Yeah you promised remember?" Simba reminded him. "I know, but it's a school day, you shouldn't be up this early son." He then put his head back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Fine then you leave me no choice. Simba thought as he clenched his fist slammed into Mufasa's arm as hard as he could. "Ow, okay, okay, I'm up." Yes! "Get changed Dad." Simba whispered to him from across the room. "No I thought I'd go up there in my boxers." Mufasa said sarcastically. "Ssshhhh" Simba gestured for him to be quiet, he didn't want his mother to wake up and find that he was awake at this time and stop him from going. He pointed at Sarabi sleeping. "Don't bother Simba" As it turned out Sarabi was awake and listening the whole time. Simba's face turned bright red.

"I knew you two were going out this morning so I won't stop you" She said as she sat upright in her bed. "But I do ask that you wear this." She revealed a light sweater under her blanket. "Yes Mom." Simba walked over and slipped into the sweater and gave her a thumb up. Sarabi gestured for them to leave.

They made their way up to the top floor and finally the roof of the palace just as the sun started to rise. "Look Simba, everything the light touches is our country, the one you will rule in future." They looked out on the horizon, past the hills, buildings, roads and trees. "So this will all be my responsibility?" Mufasa nodded. "A king's time as ruler rises and falls like the sun, one day, the sun will set on my time here, and rise with you as the new king." Mufasa said deeply "Everything the light touches...wait what about that shadowy place near the border." He pointed out to a undeveloped looking area that was in the shadow of mountain the palace was built on. "That's a rough neighborhood, one we've been trying to clean up for a while. You must never go there." Mufasa had a stern look on his face. "But I thought a King could do whatever he wants." Simba gestured towards the holstered handgun on Mufasa's belt with a wicked grin on his face. "You know Kings have to be a bit more mature than that." Mufasa said sternly. "Yeah I figured that Dad, it was a joke." Simba shook his head. Mufasa started talking again. "You see everything exists here in a delicate balance and as king you need to understand that balance. From the booming economy, to a random piece of trash on the road." Mufasa said pointing to an empty Red bull can left on the roof by some lazy guard. "Yeah but we throw the trash away don't we?" Simba pointed out. "Yes, but when it is thrown out it is recycled, so it does not pollute the air when it is burnt, if it pollutes the air we cannot breathe, so you see? We are all connected in a great circle of life." Even though Mufasa spoke wisely, Simba was tired of hearing that phrase. The hatch to the roof was suddenly forced open and Zazu poked his head out. "Good morning your majesty, Simba." He said through clenched teeth as struggled to get onto the roof. "Morning." Simba replied, a bit annoyed Zazu had to interrupt.

"Enjoying the view I see, well don't let me disturb you guys, just checking on you." He made his way to the hatch but was interrupted by a phone call. Simba couldn't help but listen in. "Yes this Zazu speaking...wait...they're where?...oh shit...okay get ready to roll out in five. Zazu out." Zazu hung up and turned towards Mufasa. "There's been an armed attack by the East Side Gang." Mufasa's eyes opened wide. He drew his Colt .45 handgun and slipped a magazine into it. "Get Scar to take Simba to school. I'll be with the SWAT team going in." His face had turned from a tired smile into a frown. "Dad, can't I come. I'll watch from the chopper quietly." Simba put on his most convincing face, he had been dying to see a real Special Ops raid. "No, this is not something you need to see. Go to school and I want to hear from Zazu that you behaved yourself there."

Zazu was Simba's mathematics teacher at Prideland High School. He was the only one along with his friend Nala that knew of his actual Job: Head of Royal Intelligence and Security. Zazu tapped Simba's shoulder. "Come on, go see to it that your uncle takes you to school, and don't look so sad. It's not a pretty job sorting out those thugs anyway." He led Simba down the hatch and through the corridors. " Oh, and you'd better have done that Algebra homework I gave you." Simba flinched. Shit, I'll have to borrow Nala's.

Chapter 4: School

Zazu drove Simba to Scar's house. Simba couldn't stop thinking about that morning's conversation and the assault happening downtown that he was missing out on. Zazu walked Simba up to Scar's front door an knocked, they waited a moment before he finally answered. "What is it?" He asked impatiently. "I just need you to drop me off to school." Simba answered, still a bit miserable. "Fine, come in and get my keys while I get my jacket." Simba complied and stepped inside his home.

Scar and Simba stepped out of the door and climbed in Scar's brand new Dodge Challenger. That gift was the only thing he currently liked Mufasa and his family for. They reversed off the driveway and started down the main road. Scar knew the talk Simba had had that morning. "So, your Dad showed you the whole city did he?" He asked as he drove. "Yeah, and to think I'm going to rule it all one day..." Simba started but Scar slammed on the brakes. "Wait... what did I say?" Simba asked startled. "Do me a favor and don't remind me about that again." Scar demanded. Simba nodded, a little frightened. Scar had now had enough of Mufasa's reign, it seemed as if he were trying to rub it in his face that their father had chosen him to be king. Scar suddenly thought of a cunning plan to get rid of Simba, so that he would be first in line again. "Did he show you what was in that town next to and beyond the border?" He tried to hide a smile. "Nah, he said I couldn't go there." Simba looked a little disappointed. "Well, he's right, only real men go there." Scar kept his eyes on the road. "Hey, I'm a real man!" Simba argued. "Well you still shouldn't go there, Ghost Town ain't exactly a place for a man in your position...wait woops." Scar put a hand on his mouth and faked his anger at himself. "Ghost Town? woah..." Simba thought about that for a second. "Oh bollocks, I've said too much, but promise me one thing, that you will never visit such a terrible place. There's practically no law there you know." No law, I like the sound of that. Simba thought to himself. "I promise." Simba said as they pulled into the school's parking lot. Scar had just appealed to Simba's daring and reckless side.

"Good lad, now would you like me to pick you up from school as well?" Scar asked as Simba got out. "No... I'm...busy after school." Simba lied, but Scar knew exactly what he meant. "Okay then, have a good day." Simba had never seen such a look in Scar's bright green eyes. Simba closed the door of the car and rushed to class.

He ran into his Math room, which surprisingly had no teacher in it. All the other students sat in there seats and talked amongst themselves casually. He took his place next to his friend Nala and began unpacking his things. Then it hit him. He hadn't done the homework Zazu had given him, and he was going to walk into the classroom any minute and find out. "Hey Nala," He whispered to her. She turned her head to face him. She brushed her blonde her out of her face and looked at him. "Hey listen uh.." Nala interrupted him. "Let me guess, you need to copy my homework again?" He knew what the look in her brilliant blue eyes meant. A Really Simba? type of look. "Uh, yeah." She rolled her eyes and handed him a sheet with all the answers on it. "Figured you might need it, and you're going to make this up to me I hope." Simba frantically began scribbling down the answers on his blank page. "Yeah, I'll think of something." Simba said as he wrote. It was as he said that when he actually did think of something. Ghost Town. Simba thought to himself. He finished writing down the answers and turned to look at her. "And I think I know how." Simba looked at her with a wicked grin on his face. "What are you doing after school?" he asked carefully. "Nothing why?" She responded. "I think I know somewhere you're gonna like." He leant close to Nala and whispered the details. Matthew, another kid in the class noticed their whispering and couldn't help blurting out: "Simba likes Nala!" he shouted out in a sing-song voice. Simba's response to this was an erect middle finger, and that pretty much shut him up.

The door then swung open. Zazu stumbled in, carrying a stack of paperwork. "Sorry I was late guys, just a staff meeting I had to attend." If by staff meeting you mean dropping me off to Uncle Scar's then going in with a special forces team to sort out an armed attack, then you sure had one hell of a meeting. Simba thought, trying to hide a grin."Firstly I will be checking your homework so I want everyone to have that out and ready for me to check." Everyone began rustling through their things and pulled out the algebra problems. Zazu began scanning through everyone's work, person by person. "Matthew: not bad, Bronson: I would have expected you to do better, Nala: all correct and completed as usual." He turned to Simba and picked up his sheet and looked it over. Simba watched anxiously as Zazu's eyes danced from side to side as he read. "Simba, well done. You actually put some effort in for a change." Simba exhaled in relief. Nala giggled and faked a cough. " *cough* Bullshit! *cough* " Zazu looked at her in surprise. "Miss Nala could you kindly refrain from using that language in this classroom." Nala's face turned red. "Sorry." Simba shook his head. If that had been him that had said it he would have been on a quite lengthy detention.

Back at Scar's house

As soon as the Dodge Challenger pulled into the driveway, Scar was rushing to the kitchen. He shoved the door open and scooped up his home telephone. He punched an old number in and waited. He paced back and forth as the phone rang. I hope this is a secure line. He thought. Finally the other person picked up. "Hello?...Yes this is Scar... and I got a something I need you to do for me...Well Shenzi if you shut up and let me talk I'd tell you what's in it for you..." He quickly finished his conversation with his contact and hung up. Finally, he thought.

Chapter 5: I just can't wait to be King

School didn't finish quick enough for Simba. He had been dying to get out and see this 'Ghost Town' Scar had told him about. He'd have to make sure that his father never found out, or he'd be in all sorts of trouble. He jumped into Zazu's Mercedes, Nala followed him in. "You coming with us today Miss Nala." He asked her politely. "Yeah, Me and Simba want to go somewhere later, and don't worry I already texted my Mom, she knows I'll be home late." Zazu nodded and started the engine. He pulled out of the school and started on his way back to the palace. Nala switched on the back seat televisions and put the chair on an incline. Being friends with a prince really has its benefits. She thought as she watched a game show.

Zazu pulled into Mufasa's private garage and immediately the kids had jumped out and ran straight to the elevator. "Why are you two in such a rush today?" Zazu raised an eyebrow. "Err, no reason." Simba smiled dumbly. When they reached the 37th floor (The royal family's living quarters) Simba bolted out of the elevator and and straight into his room. He tipped out the contents of his school backpack and began packing new things into it that he would need for his little trip: Camera, mobile phone, pocket knife, sunglasses and a change of clothes. "Alright let's roll before my mom finds out we're gone." They crept out of Simba's room and back towards the elevator. "Wait, I forgot something." He turned around and tiptoed back towards his father's office. If this place Scar told him about were that dangerous then he would need some protection. He slowly opened the door and saw that King Mufasa's handgun was placed neatly on his desk. He slipped the weapon into his backpack then made his way to the door. When he opened it however he found his mother staring straight at him.

"What were you doing in there?" Sarabi asked sternly. "Uh, just looking for Dad." Simba lied. "Well he's down at the Armory debriefing the men from this morning." Sarabi informed him. Simba made his way to the Elevator door where Nala was waiting. "Where are you two going?" Sarabi had her arms folded and sensed they were up to something. "Uh...Out to a movie, we'll be back in a few hours." Simba lied again. Sarabi thought for a minute. "You can go on one condition...Zazu?" Zazu poked his head out of his office door. "Yes your majesty?" "I want you to watch these two for me, they're going to the movies." Shit, not Zazu, he'll ruin everything. Simba had a hard time containing this thought.

Zazu lead them to his car. "Step lively, the sooner we get to the movies, the sooner we can leave." He doesn't want to be here either. Simba thought to himself. Nala leant close to him and whispered. "So how do you plan to get rid of him?" Simba whispered back: "Leave that to me." Zazu noticed them whispering. "Ha, look at you two, whispering to each other like that, going to the movies, not wanting me here, it all fits now!" Simba put hand on his forehead. "What are you on about man?" He asked in an irritated tone. "Well it's quite obvious...You two have the hots for each other!" Zazu replied with a big cheesy grin on his face. "Ew! we're just friends Zazu" Nala quickly responded. Simba was a bit disappointed with her reaction but he tried his hardest not to show it. "Right and I'm just a mathematics teacher..." Zazu started but Simba cut him off. "Just drive the car Zazu." Zazu sighed and re-focused on the road. Simba nudged Nala. "Time to put the plan into effect." He said under his breath. "Zazu I need to use the toilet, urgently." Zazu looked at him in the rear view mirror. "I'll stop at that Gas station, it looks like they have toilets." Brilliant, Simba thought.

They pulled into the gas station and began walking towards the toilets. Zazu decided to bring up the topic of him and Nala again. "Every king needs a queen you know, it's a tradition going back hundreds of years." Simba decided to play his little game. "Well when I'm king, that'll be the first thing to go." Zazu looked at him awkwardly. "Not as long as I'm around." "Well in that case you're fired." Simba replied cleverly. "Nice try kid, but only the king, prime minister or the government can do that." Zazu didn't give up arguing. "Well he is the future king." Nala added. "Yeah, so you will do what I tell you." Simba finished. Zazu persisted. "Not yet I don't and with an attitude like that you're shaping up to be a shitful king indeed." They were standing out the front of the toilets now. Simba looked at the crowd gathering at the sight of him. "Sorry Zazu, but I think I can hold it in now." A wicked grin swept across his face. Simba and Nala bolted into the crowd. Simba turned around and looked at Zazu who stood there dumbfounded. " I Just Can't Wait To Be KING!" He shouted just as disappeared into the mass of bodies.

Simba put on his Aviator sunglasses and acted like a rock star, he signed loyal citizens' T-shirts and posed in front of the Paparazzi in a casual fashion. Zazu tried to catch up to him, but was constantly shoved aside by people in the crowd after he tried to push in front of them. Eventually Zazu lost them. Simba ran ahead of the crowd and waved down a Taxi. He and Nala jumped in and handed the driver a fifty-dollar note. " Keep the change, now take us to East Side!" Simba commanded. " You got it." The taxi driver reached into his shirt pocket and produced a mobile phone. "You mind if I get a picture with you Mr. Simba, otherwise my wife will never believe I drove you somewhere." Simba looked at Nala. "Sure, why not?" They took their photo and made their way to the dangerous East Side.

The car slowed to a stop. Simba opened the door and got out, as soon as Nala was out he closed the door behind her and began to walk, but was stopped by the Taxi driver. He had rolled down his window. "You be careful out there kids, it's a rough neighborhood." Simba nodded. "Thanks Mister." and with that the Taxi drove away. Simba looked around him. It was a rough neighborhood all right. There was graffiti everywhere, abandoned shops with boarded up windows, smashed beer bottles and cigarette butts everywhere. "Well this is it, we made it."

Chapter 6: East Side Rules

Simba and Nala looked around them; they didn't know whether to be disgusted or intrigued. "Wow, this IS a ghost town, it's pretty much deserted." Nala said with wide-open eyes. It WAS pretty much deserted; there was no one to be seen except for a drunken man passed out on the sidewalk. "Well let's check it out." Simba lead her down the main road, which too was dead silent. They walked for about ten minutes looking at their threatening surroundings.

Eventually they came across a part of town that was even more run down than the rest. "Wow." They both said in unison. Simba looked at the first shop on the left. Its dirty sign read: BANZAI'S LIQOUR AND BEVERAGES. The windows were all smashed and planks of wood were lazily nailed on top them. They both turned towards it. "C'mon let's take a picture!" Simba said enthusiastically. They both posed behind his mobile phone and faked scared faces. Simba took a moment to upload the photo to Facebook, (and change his privacy settings so that his parents wouldn't see it.) Once he was done he pocketed the phone and looked at the shop again. "I wonder if there's any booze left in there." Nala thought out loud. Simba looked at the door rusting on its hinges. "Only one way to know, let's go check it out." Simba started walking towards the old bottle shop, when suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards. Zazu stood there frowning. "The only checking out you will do will be to check out of here, we are way out of town!" Simba looked at him with a look of frustration. "It sounds like old Zazu is scared." he retorted. Zazu pointed a finger at him. "That's MR. Zazu to you kid, right now we are all in great danger!" Simba walked away from him. "Danger? pffftt. Zazu you pussy, I LAUGH at danger!" He then let out a cackling laugh like the ones he heard from villains on television. To his surprise he heard the laughs of three other people behind him.

The door to the liquor store was suddenly kicked down. Three African -American adults appeared. One carried a crowbar, one carried a switchblade knife, and the last a smashed vodka bottle. Simba jumped back in terror. The woman who stood in front of the other two spoke"Well well well Banzai what have we here?" Banzai shook his head with an evil smile on his face. "I dunno Shenzi, but they're trespassers." The last of the three just laughed like a maniac. "Okay, well we're sorry we bothered you and we're leaving now." Zazu said as he ushered the kids in the opposite direction. "Wait, wait I know you." Shenzi pointed at Simba. "You're Mufasa's little kid." Simba nodded sheepishly. "We got a score to settle with that bastard, from this morning..." Simba trembled with fear. "Well it's getting kind of late and..." Zazu walked over to Shenzi looking at his watch. As soon as Shenzi's eyes changed directions to look at the Rolex Zazu gave her the most powerful backhand punch he could, sending her sprawling. "Get out of here kids NOW!" Zazu shouted. Banzai swung his crowbar at him but Zazu ducked the swing skillfully. He then hit Banzai square in the chin with a right uppercut. Zazu fought the three for a few minutes but because he was older and weaker he was eventually overpowered. Shenzi drew her knife, ready to finish him but was interrupted. "Hey, over here!" Simba shouted from down the street. That is what I'm being paid for. Shenzi thought. She dropped Zazu and sprinted towards Simba and Nala.

The beaten and bloodied Zazu got his breath back and reached into his jacket to produce a walkie-talkie. "Overlord, this is Zazu, I am in desperate need of evac, We are in the East Side District and two VIPs are in danger, send the entire party here!" He panted into the walkie-talkie. "Roger that Zazu we read you loud and clear, Evac is inbound your position hot. Overlord out." Please get here in time! Zazu thought frantically.

The three thugs chased Simba and Nala down the road, gaining on them slowly. "This way!" He yelled to Nala and they turned down an alley. They began climbing a fence, Simba was first over. He leapt over to see Nala being dragged down by Banzai by her ankle. "Simba, help!" She squealed. Simba ran back to the fence that Banzai was leaning against. He punched Banzai as hard as he could through the chain link fence and stumbled backwards in surprise; this gave Nala the time to get over the fence. They frantically ran down the alley, with the gang closing in on them slowly. They continued to run until they met a dead end. This is it. Simba thought as his back pressed up against the brick wall. Then he remembered: The Gun! Simba shoved his hand into his bag and drew the deadly weapon. He aimed at Shenzi and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried it again and again but nothing happened except the clicking of a jammed pistol was heard. "Was that it? HA! Go on do it again." Shenzi said half laughing. Simba did try again but this time: BANG! The sound of a loud fully functional gun was rang out. "Huh?" The thugs looked behind them to see King Mufasa with a gun raised in the air. Mufasa then lunged at them and within seconds they were all on the floor at gunpoint. There was no beating the king in hand-to-hand combat.

"If I ever see you near my son again, I'll kill you." Mufasa threatened. "What? This was your son, gee I didn't know that, did you Shenzi?" Banzai played dumb. "No of course not, Ed?" Shenzi turned to look at him on the floor, hoping he wouldn't say anything stupid. Ed just nodded dumbly. Mufasa fired another shot into the air. This was the gang's cue to leave. They bolted down the alley and away from him.

Support then started to arrive, Black Hawk helicopters circled above with M240 machine guns pointed at the three as they ran. The Range Rovers then started to turn up. Mufasa looked at Simba angrily. "You actually went against the only thing I told you not do!" He thundered at the boy. "I'm sorry Dad... I just..." Simba stuttered. "Let's go home!" Mufasa cut him off as he snatched the gun from Simba. He pointed at the Range Rover and signaled for Simba to get in. Simba complied without argument. Nala whispered in his ear as he walked. "Thanks for saving me back there, you were pretty brave." She smiled weakly. Simba nodded and got into the car.

Several stories above, Scar looked on. How did they screw that up? I set it up so perfectly for them. He seethed in anger as the Range Rovers started to leave the scene.

Chapter 7: Aftermath

The ride home in the Range Rover never seemed to end. Everyone was dead silent and didn't dare say a word. The only thing Simba could hear was the hum of the car's engine and steady beating of the chopper's rotors above him. Finally the car pulled into the palace compound. Mufasa stopped the car and finally broke the silence Zazu, take Nala home, her mother would be worried." He tossed him the keys to the Range Rover. "In the meantime, my son and I are going to have a little talk." Simba flinched. Zazu gestured for Nala to get back into the car. "Good luck." He whispered to Simba before getting in the car himself.

Mufasa lead him into their main garden and had him sit on bench. Mufasa stood in front of him glaring. Simba did his best to avoid his gaze. "SIMBA!" Mufasa thundered. Simba flinched again. I'm really annoyed with you boy. You deliberately disobeyed me. You know what's even worse, the fact that you dragged Nala into it. I'm not even going to mention how you took my firearm." Simba started to tear up. Everything he had just said was true, and he knew it. "I was just trying to be a man like you." He said as he sniffled. "Being a man doesn't mean you go looking for trouble to prove it." Mufasa started to calm down and spoke wisely. "But you're not scared of anything..." Simba wiped the tears from his face as he spoke. "I was today...I was afraid I might lose you." Simba looked at him in the eyes. "So even Kings get scared?" Mufasa nodded. Simba started to cheer up. "But you know what..." Simba whispered to him. "What?"I think those gangsters were shitting themselves." Simba said with a small smile. Mufasa chuckled.'Cause no one messes with your Dad." Mufasa then put Simba in a pretend headlock. "Oh no you don't," Simba mumbled as he broke free of his father's grip. The two play fought on the lawn under the moonlight. Mufasa eventually let him pin him.

"Dad, we're pals right?" Simba asked. "Right." Mufasa confirmed. "And we'll always be together." Mufasa looked at him solemnly. "Simba let me tell you something my father told me, look at the stars. The great kings and prime ministers look down on us from those stars. They will always be there to guide you...and so shall I." Simba smiled at him. "Now get to bed, before your mother finds out where we were." He kissed his son on the forehead and watched him walk inside. Mufasa decided he would stay outside and enjoy the fresh air.

Meanwhile back at East Side, in Shenzi's apartment.

"Man that lousy Mufasa, I'm gonna be shittin' blood for a week." Banzai exclaimed as he used a mirror to inspect a cut in his mouth from earlier. Ed burst into laughter. "It's not funny Ed." Banzai said aggressively. Ed tried to hold in the laughter, but burst into another laughing fit, this time rolling on the floor. Banzai then lost his cool and struck him in the face. Shenzi walked into the room. "Will you guys knock it off." They then composed themselves and sat down on the sofa peacefully. "No wonder we ain't got no respect." He shook her head in disgust at the two of them. "You know if it weren't for those fucking royal white guys we'd be running with joy." Shenzi started. "Yeah I hate white guys, they're so pushy, hairy and stinky." Banzai and Shenzi both looked at each other. "And man are they UGLY!" They both said in Unison. They burst into laughter at their own joke. Suddenly the door to the apartment swung open. Scar appeared, holding a few boxes. "Surely we aren't that bad." He said as he dumped the boxes in a corner. "Oh it's you. We thought it was somebody important." Shenzi explained. "Yeah, like Mufasa." Banzai added. "Tell me about it, I just hear that name and I shudder." Shenzi said. "Mufasa!" Banzai said in a humorous tone, trying to see Shenzi's reaction; and true her word she shuddered. "Do it again." He said it again and again and Ed rolled on the floor laughing. Scar put his head in his hands. "I'm surrounded by idiots." he said to no one in particular. Shenzi got a grip on herself and changed the topic. "So I don't suppose we're getting paid for today?" Scar just glared at her and she got the point. "Well did you bring anything to eat?" Scar rolled his eyes and reached into one of his boxes to pull out a box of pizza. "I don't think you deserve this, I practically gift-wrapped those kids for you and you couldn't even injure them." He tossed the food to them.

The three of them scoffed down the pizza. "Well it wasn't like they were alone Scar," Shenzi said in defense as she chewed. "Yeah, what were we supposed to do? Kill Mufasa and Zazu?" Banzai asked. "Well no shit." Scar smiled evilly. The three of them looked up in surprise. "You've all had just about enough of the government right?" Scar asked. "Right." They all responded in Unison. "Well then stick with me, and you'll never be poor again! I've waited years for this. We're going to kill the king, and Simba too. Then I'll take charge and establish a socialist government. One where you punks will thrive." Shenzi, Banzai and Ed cheered. "I need your undivided support." Scar said as he reached into another of his boxes and produced three matching uniforms, each with the red sickle and hammer branded onto the collar. "I'm making an army, out of the East Side residents. They will take care of any resistance." He turned again to the boxes and this time pulled out three Russian made AK-47 assault rifles. He tossed one to each of them. The three were impressed, he had the whole scheme funded from the start and he looked pretty organized. They saluted him, and Scar saluted back.

They then marched downstairs and on to the street. Scar lifted a megaphone"Citizens of East Side, today is the day we stand up against the oppression of King Mufasa's government, today is the day we show the world what we are made of. Tomorrow we take control of the country whether it be by force or peace. Be prepared for the revolution of a lifetime!" People who had gathered on the streets to hear applauded. "Now who's with me?" The people on the streets yelled their approval. Be Prepared! Down with Mufasa! Be Prepared!" They chanted as Scar unveiled his new communist flag. He had Shenzi, Banzai and Ed start handing out military uniforms and guns. Scar drew his new black .50 caliber Desert Eagle pistol and fired a shot into the air. His new militia cheered and raised their fists into the air. "Be prepared!" He shouted out one last time.

Chapter 8: Long live the King

Simba didn't sleep that night. He could not draw his thoughts away from the previous day, and it would stay fresh in his mind until the next morning. He walked downstairs slowly and in silence. He ate his breakfast in the same silent state before his mother interrupted him. "Your Uncle Scar called, he said he wanted to talk to you." Sarabi told him "Okay." Simba continued eating. Sarabi sat down next to him. "Hey, it's okay. Look we all make mistakes once in a while, yesterday was a good example." Sarabi nuzzled her son. "And why do we fall?" She asked. "So we can get back up." Simba answered. "That's right. Now call your uncle back, he sounded like he really wants to talk to you." Sarabi said. Simba sighed and picked up the home phone, he dialed in Scar's phone number. Scar picked up immediately. "Hello, Scar speaking." "Hey Uncle Scar it's me. You called me earlier?" Simba said. "Oh, yes. I have surprise for you. I hope it might cheer you up from yesterday." Simba gasped at the response. "You know about that?" he asked embarrassed. "Yes, it was all over the news and tabloids." Simba put his head in his hands. Now everyone knew. "Well anyway, meet me at the train station in an hour, I'll be waiting for you there." Simba thought for a moment then agreed. "Good lad, see you in an hour." Scar hung up. Simba exhaled and put his shoes on.

Meanwhile, 20 feet underground at the Prideland City Center's Maintenance Level.

"He took the bait, now is everything ready?" Scar asked Banzai as he worked. "Uh, yep. 10 kilograms of C4 ready to blow." Banzai reported as he strapped the last explosive to the City Center's gas pipes. Scar pulled Banzai close. "Don't fuck up this time. Our whole plan depends on you getting this right, and don't blow it until you get my signal. Are we clear?" Scar sneered. "Clear." Shenzi, Banzai and Ed all replied together, even though Scar was only talking to Banzai because he was in charge of the bomb. "Good, now I've got business to take care of." Scar picked up his keys and left the building.

At the train station on the freeway, 40 minutes later.

"Behave yourself for your uncle." Sarabi said to Simba through the window of her car. "I will Mom," Simba said before kissing her on the cheek. Simba then walked towards the train station. It was deserted like the freeway, mainly due it being a public holiday. The public transport was shut down and the freeway was closed; unless there was an emergency. Simba sat on a bench and waited for a few minutes before Scar's distinctive red and black muscle car pulled into the parking lot. Scar jogged up to Simba enthusiastically. "Hey, glad you could make it. Now like I said on the phone I have a marvelous surprise for you. Come with me." Scar lead him downstairs and onto the freeway. "Are you sure it's safe here?" Simba asked as he walked across the road. "Yes I'm sure, it's closed today remember?" Scar responded. Simba nodded. Scar pointed to a pillar; "Sit here. Now I'm going to go get your father." Scar turned towards the stairs. "Wait Dad's coming too?" Scar nodded with a smile. "And that reminds me..." Scar reached into his jacket and produced a 9mm pistol. "Take this." Simba shook his head. "No, if my Dad sees me with that, he'll kill me. Especially after last night." Scar raised an eyebrow. "Well you'll need it for the surprise." Scar leant close to him. "You might just be learning how to shoot." Simba's eyes opened wide. "And you're going to have to work on your little skills after last night." Scar smiled and turned towards the stairs again. "Stay here, I'm going to go get your Dad." Scar said. Simba sat down and leant against the pillar holding up the bridge that crossed the freeway.

"Hey Uncle Scar, will I like the surprise?" Scar didn't turn around this time but he stopped walking. "Simba it's to die for." he said then continued walking, he went up the stairs and out of Simba's sight. He pulled out his iPhone and opened a new message; its recipient Shenzi. Now. He typed in and sent the message.

A few blocks down from the Prideland City Center, On the sidewalk

Shenzi felt her mobile phone buzz in her pocket. She reached in and pulled out the primitive looking Nokia. She read the message and looked up at Banzai who was looking at her. She gave him a thumbs up. Banzai nodded and reached into his pocket to reveal the detonator. He squeezed the red button on the side.

Within seconds the entire city center exploded into a ball of fire, followed by the chain reaction of explosions that was caused by flames reaching the other gas pipes. Debris and flames were thrown everywhere, and the road next to the center started to collapse in on itself. Chaos soon followed. People who had survived the blast ran away from the scene screaming, getting into their cars and getting the hell out of the city. Ambulances and police cars arrived, rounding up the wounded and sealing off the dangerous area. A policeman with a megaphone yelled out to bystanders who were too scared to move or just ridiculously brave. "EVERYONE PLEASE EVACUATE THE CITY, THE FREEWAY HAS NOW BEEN OPENED. PLEASE EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY, GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" People complied and jumped into their vehicles, and sped off to the freeway in an unorganized fashion. Cars horns honked and tooted and there was the occasional impact with other vehicles. The majority of the cars had the same destination: the freeway.

Back at the train station on the freeway

Simba paced back and forth on the freeway, waiting for his uncle to return. He looked at the weapon Scar had trusted him with. Poor shooting skills huh? Simba flicked the safety switch off and pointed at a tree next to the road. He lined up the sights and fired. BANG! The shot sailed wide of its target and Simba frowned. He aimed again and prepared for the shot. BANG! The sound echoed around the freeway, the shot had just skimmed the tree. Not good enough. Simba thought and aimed a third time. BANG! This time the shot hit the tree square in the trunk. Bark and wood flew everywhere. Simba smiled as the sound continued to echo. Then suddenly the ground started to tremble. Simba looked down and saw the pebbles on the road start to shake. He turned around to see hundreds of cars start to appear over the rise in the road. Simba gasped.

He tried to move but couldn't. The cars raced closer and closer to him. I've got to move now or I'm finished. Simba thought and his energy started returning to him, it was almost too late. The mass of cars were only one hundred yards away now, and closing fast. He turned and started to run towards the pillar, he leapt on to it and climbed just as cars started speeding past. He felt the cars whizz past behind him. He edged higher. Scar watched from above as Simba grasped onto the pillar for his life. He picked up his iPhone and dialed Mufasa's number. While he waited for the king to answer he breathed in and out several times so he would sound desperate when he spoke. "Hello?" Mufasa seemed to be casually enjoying the holiday. "Mufasa, it's Scar. There was bomb in the city and it caused a traffic rush, Simba's down there!" Mufasa had heard enough. He hung up and reached into his office drawer, he pulled out the keys to his faster car: an Aston Martin DBS. He figured he'd need the extra speed. He raced downstairs and gunned the car towards the freeway train station.

As soon as the car came to a stop Mufasa was out the door and sprinting towards the station. Scar rushed out towards him. "Where is he?' Mufasa asked. "Down there!" Scar yelled out above the noise of the cars as he pointed at the pillar Simba was pinned against. Simba could feel himself slipping, and once he fell onto the road; it was game over. Mufasa leapt down onto the road, dodging and weaving through cars. He stopped in between gaps and cut through traffic skillfully. His razor sharp reflexes allowed him to time his moves perfectly; one wrong move and he would be hit by a speeding car. "Dad over here!" Simba called over the roaring of the cars. His hands were sliding down the pillar now, and he was going to fall. His hands finally slipped off and he fell down towards the road. So this is how I die. Simba thought as he prepared himself to be hit by a car, but instead of feeling the cold metal smash into him he felt his fathers warm arms catch him.

Mufasa waited for the slightest gap in the traffic before rushing through. He charged through the opening but was collected by the wing mirror of a 4WD driving past and the impact sent him spinning. He dropped Simba on the road. He saw a semi-trailer truck headed straight for them; he jumped on top of Simba forcing him flat to the ground. The truck drove over them leaving the two unscathed. He then pulled Simba to his feet and they continued running towards the stairs. Mufasa reached the stairs, picked up Simba and threw him over the railing. He went to climb over also but was lightly hit again by another car, Simba looked over the edge, eyes darting from side to side trying find where his father was in the chaos, he had disappeared from the earth. Mufasa suddenly jumped out of the traffic rush and started to climb an emergency ladder, Simba noticed a great bloody patch on his shirt. Simba rushed up the stairs so he could reach his father and help him. Mufasa steadily climbed the weak ladder, edging closer and closer to safety, he was almost at the edge when an out of control Volvo struck the ladder, causing it to be ripped from the pillar it was riveted to. Mufasa could feel the ladder falling from underneath him so he quickly let go of it and grabbed onto the edge of the bridge. He dangled there helpless.

Scar appeared above him, standing on the edge of the bridge, looking down at his brother. "Scar, brother...HELP ME!" Mufasa cried as held on for his life. Simba's view was blocked by pillar, all he could see was his father dangling there, and he couldn't see who was on the bridge. Scar knelt down close to Mufasa and grabbed his wrist with one hand, the other hand slipped inside his jacket to pull out his Desert Eagle pistol. He then pulled Mufasa close. "Long live the king..." He whispered. Mufasa's eyes opened wide with terror when Scar pointed the weapon at him.

Cla-Chik...BANG!

Simba saw his father plummet to his death, "NOOOOOO!" he screamed out.

Chapter 9: To Be Dead

The traffic rush raged on for a few more minutes until the final few cars started to leave. Simba raced down the stairs and onto the road, "Dad?" he called out to no response. He eventually came across his father who lying on the floor with the broken ladder next to him. His eyes were closed and face and shirt were covered with blood. "Dad?" he said again, to no avail. Simba began to fear the worst, "C'mon Dad it's time to go home." Maybe he's just unconscious, he has to be. Simba thought, he knelt down and shook him. "Come on you have to get up," Simba said as he checked his neck for a pulse; of which there was none. Simba felt tears starting to burn his eyes. "HELP!" he yelled out, the cry just echoed. "Somebody! Anybody...help..." Simba felt the tears stream down his face, he collapsed next to his dead father and cried. He then lay down next to him put Mufasa's arm around him, like he would have done when he was young and sad. He cuddled up to his dead father and sobbed for several minutes. His father had given his life to save him.

He lay there crying until a hand touched his shoulder: that hand belonged to Scar. "Simba, what have you done?" he asked solemnly. "What...nothing...he tried to save me...it was an accident." Simba said through sobs. "If it weren't for you he would still be alive." Simba shook his head in disbelief. "No, I didn't mean to...I couldn't have." Scar hugged Simba and let him cry on his shoulder. "Of course you didn't, no one ever means for these things to happen, but the king is dead." Scar reassured him. Simba looked up at him with wide-open, watery eyes. "What would your mother think? Not to mention the rest of the country." Simba backed away from him. "Run Simba, run away and never come back." Simba didn't need to be told twice. He turned his back on Scar and ran away from the road. Once he was up the stairs and away from Scar, Shenzi, Banzai and Ed appeared from behind Scar and walked up on either side of him. "Kill him." Scar ordered.

Simba ran through the train station parking lot, crying as he ran, he never turned to look back, until he started to hear footsteps behind him. He turned around to see the three mobsters closing in on him, knives bared. Oh no, not them again. Simba thought as his jog turned into a sprint. He ran across the road, and his three attackers tried to follow but were stopped by cars, that gave Simba a small advantage. He needed to find a place where they couldn't follow him, it started to rain heavily and that factor wasn't helping Simba in the least. He brushed his wet hair out of his face and continued to run down the street, the hissing of water rushing down the roadside lead him to a drain, which all the water was pouring into. That's it; they can't follow me down there. Simba used all his strength to lift the grate off of the drain; he jumped down into the dirty sewer and tried to pull the grate over the hole but was stopped by Banzai. "Yeah don't think about hiding down there." he sneered as he lifted the grate off and prepared to jump down himself. As it turned out Simba was wrong about presuming that they couldn't fit down there and Banzai was about to join him down there and kill him. Then Simba remembered. Uncle Scar gave me that gun. He reached into his back pocket and drew it. Please work this time, Dad can't save me now. Simba aimed and fired. The bullet hit the metal outlining of the drain and ricocheted away with a loud TWANG! "Holy shit he has a gun!" Banzai cried. He tried to lift himself out of the drain but it was too late, Simba aimed at his chest and fired again. The recoil lifted the shot up and the bullet hit him in the arm. Banzai flew back onto the road, his right arm severely wounded. "AW CHRIST!" Banzai screamed in agony. Shenzi picked up the grate and put it back on top of the drain. "What're you doing?" Banzai asked through clenched teeth. "Well there ain't no way any of us are going down there, so we'll drown him. Once that drain fills up, he's as good as dead." Shenzi said before picking up two stones and placing them on either side of the Grate to weigh it down so there would be no chance Simba could get out. Shenzi gestured for them to leave. "And if he comes back to the palace, we'll kill him." Shenzi said as she started to walk away. "Yeah, if you ever come back, we'll kill ya!" Banzai shouted down the drain.

Simba stood there in the confined area for a few minutes until he was certain the thugs had left. He tried to push the grate off but it wouldn't budge. The water was already up to his waist, and he needed to find a way out if he was to live. He tried again and again but to no avail and the water level rose higher and higher. The water was up to his neck when he decided the only thing he could do was call out for help. "HELP!" he yelled out several times before the water level rose above his mouth. Simba took a huge gulp of air as the water level started to rise above his head, he pounded on the grate with his fist hoping someone would hear. He held his breath and pounded on the grate, he could start to feel life slipping away from him, he felt light headed and his knocks on the grate became weaker and weaker. Can't give up! He gave the grate one final hit before everything went black, he could start to feel himself floating away, as if his soul were floating all the way to heaven.

At Nala's house. 3 hours later.

Sarafina turned the television on, she had heard about the bomb in the city from her friends at work, and wanted to see the news report. "Two massive Headlines tonight, firstly the Prideland City Center was subject to a suspected terrorist attack today, with over 30 dead and almost twice as many wounded, this is rumored to be the worst attack on the country in it's history. Our second headline tonight, one that's rocking the internet world; our beloved King Mufasa and his son Prince Simba have been confirmed dead today by authorities..." Nala rushed into the room. "Mom turn that up! they said something about Simba." She sat down on the couch next to her mother. Scar appeared on television, speaking at a press conference. "The loss of my brother the king was a terrible tragedy, but to lose Simba, who had hardly become to live..." Nala's jaw dropped. "There you have it Ladies and Gentlemen, Our king and prince are confirmed dead." The reporter finished. "No it can't be..." Nala said stunned. She sniffled and started to cry, her mother hugged her and whispered: "He was a good kid, I'll miss him too, everything's going to be okay," She cradled her sad daughter on her lap. "It'll be all right," she whispered to her over and over.

At the Palace. 6 hours after Mufasa's Assassination

Scar lead his new army of thugs up the palace stairs, two security guards then halted him. "Sir we need ID." Scar showed him his Royal ID card then gestured for two of his men to go 'sort out' the security guards. They grabbed the guards' weapons and lined them up against a wall, the two soldiers looked back at Scar, waiting for his approval; Scar nodded. They shot the guards against the wall. Scar continued to march up into the Palace. Eventually he reached the famed 38th floor, he walked over to the balcony and pulled down the current blue, green and white National Flag. He replaced it with his new flag: A red communist star on a black background. A new era, he thought.

In the coming weeks, Scar abolished the House of Representatives and the Senate; he also had a large amount of its members killed on his orders. He spent a massive amount of his budget on making a more modern and advanced military. He had successfully set up a Totalitarian government, like he had always planned.

Chapter 10: No Worries

Simba woke in a fright. What a horrible dream. He thought and he tried to force his eyes open. Instead of feeling the warmth and softness of his bed he felt cold and uncomfortable, he was in lying across the back seat of a car; completely wet. All he could hear was the hum of the engine and the car's radio. "Another update on the death of King Mufasa and Prince Simba; New leader and brother of the King, 'Scar' has rejected the proposal to build a monument to the king and his son. This had caused a civil outcry that was quickly silenced by Scar's new private army. The new 'dictator' has become unpopular with many across the country, some claim that his new government party was partially responsible for the City bombing and possibly the death of the king. He swiftly denied these claims and said to a press conference that there was no relation between the two events. One thing is clear, the country is having it's most eventful week in history, with a major terrorist attack, death of two members of the Royal family, and a socialist revolution." The radio announcer reported.

Simba felt his eyes start to burn with tears again. So it wasn't a dream. He groaned and tried to sit up. He was alive but under the circumstances he'd rather be dead, like everyone thought. If I'm alive, then where the hell am I? How'd I get out of the drain? His brain started overloading with questions, and he sat up straight in the car, still drenched. "Hey, sleeping beauty's awake!" a man in the front seat said. "You nearly died!" another added. "I saved you." The first man said. The man in the passenger seat growled at him. "Well Pumbaa helped... a little." The first man confessed as he came to a red light. They both turned around to look at him, the man driving was skinny, and had short brown hair. The second was a little overweight, and had longer black hair and a mustache. "I'm Timon, this is my buddy Pumbaa, we heard you in the drain and saved you. We're taking you to a hospital now." The driver said. No, they'll know who I am, then they'll ask me what happened! Simba thought frantically. "Thanks for your help guys, but don't take me to the hospital, I'm fine." Simba said, but then he started to choke, within seconds he vomited a mixture of rainwater and breakfast all over the car's floor. Timon flinched; he had just cleaned the inside of the car only a day earlier. "Listen kid we're taking you there for your own good, a few hours ago we thought you died." Timon said as the light turned green. "No! Please don't. Just take me where you're going." Simba pleaded.

"We're going home, and that's out of this country." Timon said firmly. "Well take me with you! I promise I won't be a pain, and I'll leave you alone when we get there." Simba begged. Pumbaa nudged Timon. "Fine, so anyway where are you from?" Timon did a U-turn as he spoke. "Who cares, I can't go back." Simba said miserably. "Oh you're an outcast, that's great so are we!" Timon said enthusiastically. "Nah, I'm kiddin' ya, we were just here to visit family." Timon said with a grin. Pumbaa frowned at him and shook his head, he knew the mood Simba was in. "What'd you do kid?" Pumbaa asked curious. "Something terrible, but I don't wanna talk about it." Simba mumbled. "Good we don't want to hear about it." Timon remarked, this comment was met with a solid elbow in the arm from Pumbaa. He tried to reassure him. "It's in times like these Timon says, you have to put your behind in your past...oh wait that's not it...oh dear." Timon looked at him awkwardly. "No, no, no. It's you gotta put your past behind ya." Timon corrected him. "Bad things happen, and there's nothing you can do about it right?" Timon started. "Right." Simba said. "Wrong!" Timon raised his voice as he began to speak. "When the world turns its back on you, you turn your back on the world." Timon told him as he drove. "Well that's not what I was taught." Simba informed him. "Well then maybe you need a new lesson, repeat after me: Hakuna Matata." "Huh?" Simba raised an eyebrow. "Hakuna Matata, it's an old African way of life. It's Swahili for 'no worries.'" Pumbaa said.

"Oh, listen to this song, it is a great of example of Hakuna Matata." Timon put a CD into the car and Three Little Birds by Bob Marley started playing, Timon and Pumbaa sang along as they drove. "Don't worry...about a thing...cause every little thing is gonna be alright." Simba started to cheer up and tapped his foot in time with the beat. "C'mon kid sing along, it's a long drive to our place." Timon said over the blaring music, Simba smiled and joined in. "Don't worry...about a thing...'cause every little thing, is gonna be alright." Timon cheered and said: "Yeah, SING IT KID!" The three sang away as they drove towards the border.

When they reached the border checkpoint, Timon and Pumbaa went about it normally, they reached for their passports and wallets, Simba however jumped down and hid under the seat. "What're you doing kid? C'mon be serious." Timon gestured for him to get up but Simba shook his head. Timon slid a finger across his neck, indicating how much trouble they would be in if they tried to smuggle him across the border, especially with the new socialist law in place. Simba sat up straight and turned his head away from the security camera, so they wouldn't see his face. The border cop looked over Timon and Pumbaa's passports and gave them the tick of approval; He then turned towards Simba and asked for his. "Sorry I don't have mine with me." Simba said sheepishly. The officer thought long and hard. He's just a kid, I'll give him a break. "Okay, just let me get your name." The officer said. Yes! Simba thought, he was going to make it through. "Gareth Wallcroft." he lied. The officer scribbled it down on a piece of paper before letting them through.

"So your name's Gareth huh, I think I'll call you Gaz." Timon said. "My name's actually Simba, but you can call me that if you like, it sounds like a cool name." Simba said to Timon. "Simba... like that royal kid who died earlier...poor kid, only twelve years old, heard about him on the radio." Timon shook his head sadly. Simba bit his lip and said no more for the next few minutes. They drove for hours, and into the night. Simba eventually fell asleep on the long drive.

He slept without dreams, much to his delight; he couldn't stand another nightmare about his father or someone finding out the truth. He was shaken awake by Timon, he then forced his eyes open and jumped out of Timon's SUV. "We're here kid, rise and shine." Timon said. It was morning now, and the sun illuminated the huge mansion near a cliff. Simba felt his jaw drop. Wow, that is absolutely beautiful. Simba thought to himself.

Chapter 11: Living Cool

Simba could not believe his eyes, Timon and Pumbaa's house was a huge three level mansion overlooking a beautiful valley, there was waterfalls, mountains and dense jungle in the valley; the view was even better than the one from the roof of the palace. "You live here?" Simba asked stunned. "Yeah, I inherited the place from my Uncle Max, who made quite a bit of money through mining." Timon said. "It's beautiful." Simba said awestruck. "Well I guess I'll be going then." Simba said sadly and turned away from the house. "Where are you going to go?" Timon asked concerned. Simba kept walking towards their front gate. " I dunno, I'll try and find a job at the local Deli or something." Simba said. "So you don't have a home?" Timon stopped him. Simba shook his head sadly. "Aw gee kid, why don't you live with us?" Pumbaa offered. "I don't want to be trouble to you guys, are you sure." Simba's face lit up as he spoke. "No of course you won't, adding another member to the family ain't gonna hurt anyone." Timon smiled at him. Simba couldn't believe his luck, he liked these guys and now he was going to live with them. "Really?" he said. "Yeah sure, now come inside, I'm starving." Timon lead them inside.

"What sort of cereals do you guys have, I can't wait for breakfast." Simba said rubbing his stomach. "Cereals? Pah! Simba, I come from an Italian background and over there, it's a sin to eat cereals." Timon told him before shouting out: "MARIA GET SOME PASTA COOKING!" An Italian woman in a white apron appeared from around the corner. "Of course Mr. Timon." she said in heavily accented English, before scurrying into the kitchen. "That's Maria our chef, she makes the best Italian food this side of the border." Timon told him.

About an hour later, breakfast was served. Maria entered the dining room carrying three bowls of steaming hot spaghetti and meatballs. Simba looked at the bowl in front of him, it looked good all right, but he hadn't eaten pasta in years. He twisted some spaghetti around his fork and took a bite. "Ti Piace?" (Do you like it?) Maria asked in Italian. Simba looked at her with a smile. "Delizioso!" he said back; that was one of the few Italian words he knew. "That's the spirit kid." Timon encouraged him before chowing down the rest of his meal.

Simba lived with Timon and Pumbaa for the next nine years, he loved the cooking of Maria and the 'no worries' lifestyle. Timon and Pumbaa home schooled him and made sure he exercised, but they made it all fun for him, occasionally singing classic rock songs to help with his 'education'." Simba now felt better as a person too, he enjoyed life and eventually got over the loss of his father. Everyday he would go for a jog to keep fit, and sometimes visit the gym; he would never do so without some music, he would sing along to his music playing on his iPod as he bench pressed or ran on the treadmill. People around him admired him for his positive attitude and strived to be like him, little did they know about his shocking past. He also liked to go for drives in Timon's other car, a 1966 Mustang convertible. They would drive around town with the top down and music on full blast. They loved to sing Rock classics such as Smoke on the Water, Shoot to Thrill, Sunshine of your Love, Black or White and Fortunate Son. They lived uninterrupted in their rich and carefree lifestyle for years. Simba grew into a young man that much resembled his father: Tall, slightly long reddish-brown hair and quite muscular.

9 Years later, in Timon's backyard.

Timon, Pumbaa and Simba sat around a small table under the moonlight. BUUURRPP! Simba belched out loud. "Nice one buddy." Timon congratulated him. "Thanks." Simba said, smiling like an idiot. Maria suddenly appeared, carrying a large birthday cake with 21 candles poked in. "Tanti Auguri a te!" (Happy birthday to you!) Maria said. "Aw guys, you didn't have to." Simba said overwhelmed. "Of course we did, our best buddy has turned twenty-one! What did you expect us to do?" Timon said. Simba hugged Timon and Pumbaa and kissed Maria on both cheeks. "And I got a present for you." Timon said as he reached inside his pockets to produce some car keys, he handed them to Simba. "Thanks, what are they for?" Simba asked. "Come with me." Timon lead him into his underground garage, he then pointed to a car Simba hadn't seen before that had a cover on it. Pumbaa walked over and pulled the cover off to reveal a blue 1968 Shelby Mustang GT500. Simba stood there awestruck. That can't be for me. Simba thought. "Happy 21st kid." Timon said smiling. Simba embraced him again. "Thanks Timon, It's gorgeous." "And fast, tomorrow we're going to take her for a spin." Timon said enthusiastically. They made their way back upstairs and got changed into their board shorts before going back into the back yard.

The three of them jumped into Timon's outdoor hot tub and began to relax for the evening. They looked up at the stars. "Ever wonder how many stars there are up there?" Pumbaa asked solemnly. "Google it Pumbaa." Timon said sarcastically. Simba looked long and hard at the stars. "Well I always thought that scientists were never quite sure." Pumbaa said. "Whatever you say Pumbaa." Timon said, uninterested. Simba was reminded of his father and the night he told him about the great leaders in the stars. "Someone once told me, that the great kings of the Pridelands look down on us from those stars." Simba said quietly. "So a bunch of royal dead guys are watching us?" Timon and Pumbaa burst into laughter. "Pridelands? That place is communist bro, what kind of idiot told you that, huh?" Timon said through laughs. Simba felt slightly insulted, but tried his best not to show it. "Yeah, pretty dumb huh..." Simba stuttered. He looked up at the stars again, and wondered if his father was up there. He needed to be alone now, and try and recover from that awful memory of his father's death, and how he was responsible for it. He jumped out of the hot tub and wrapped a towel around him before walking inside. "Was it something I said?" Timon said, concerned. He turned to Pumbaa. "Whatever it was, we'll have a barbecue tomorrow to make up for it."

Simba walked upstairs and into his room. He sat on his bed and placed his head in his hands. His new car keys then slipped out of his hands and ended up under his bed. Simba bent down looking for them, he eventually came across them lying next to dusty looking box. He took the keys and the box so he could see what was in it.

He pulled off the lid and gasped. His things were in there; from nine years ago. A 9mm pistol lay in the box, loaded and ready for use. He also found his old mobile phone in there. He picked it up and tried to switch it on. Dead. He thought and tried to plug it into his computer, and remarkably the charger cable fit and worked. After a minute or so, the phone buzzed to life. Simba turned it on and began flicking through his pictures, shots of him and his father standing next to his Aston Martin. Simba fought tears as he looked. He eventually came across the picture of him and Nala posed in front of Banzai's liquor shop. I took that the day before the accident. He thought. He then opened up the Facebook application. He scrolled through his wall, not updated since nine years ago. Time to update that. Simba thought. He changed his profile picture to an image of him with Timon and Pumbaa and posted a status: 21 today, if only you could see me now dad.

Same time, PRF (Prideland Resistance Force) HQ.

Sergeant Matthew Weaver sat behind his computer, keeping track of any movements by Scar's forces. Nothing. Coast clear as usual, Scar's army knew better than to wander about the streets at night; if they did, snipers would pick them off for sure. Weaver was ashamed of what his country had turned into; a once bright and prosperous country had been turned into a war-torn wreck. He sat behind his computer bored, and decided to check his Facebook. That was as usual too, all depressing posts about the war and Scar's regime. Weaver noticed something unusual, there was a post from his old school friend Simba. 21 today, if only you could see me now father. The profile picture had changed as well, and it did look like an adult version of the kid he used to know. Something's not right. He thought. He clicked on the profile picture. He can't be alive. He immediately got on the phone. "Miller, I need an ID check on a suspected V.I.P, Call-sign: 'Kingfish', I'm sending you the pictures now." He copied the picture and copied another from when Simba was a child, he then emailed them across to Miller, an ex detective now working for the Resistance. "Okay, I should have a result for you in 24 hours. Miller out."

24 hours later

Weaver's phone rang, he knew who the call was from and scooped it up anxiously. "Hey Matthew, I got something. That ID check came out positive, the two guys match. What's this about anyway?" Weaver sat there stunned. "I'll tell you this, our cause might have just gotten a whole lot easier...Scar will have no response to this." Weaver muttered. He's alive, how's that possible? He thought, shocked. He hung up the phone and charged down the corridor and into the command room. He spoke into the PA: "Nala to the command room ASAP" He ordered.

Chapter 12: Madness of Scar

Scar sat back in his chair, enjoying a glass of scotch. He was trying to forget about all the stresses he had encountered lately but Zazu was also in the room, singing terribly. "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, nobody knows my sorrow." Zazu whined. "Lighten up Zazu, perhaps you could sing something with a little...bounce in it." Scar said partially drunk. Zazu thought for moment, then he remembered that Justin Bieber song his daughters used to listen to. "Baby...baby...baby...oohhh." He began. "NO!" Scar snapped, "Anything but that." He growled. Zazu then started singing Michael Jackson's Billie Jean. "Billie jean is not my lover, she's just a girl who says that I am the one." Zazu sang, and Scar started to join in. Zazu stopped singing and muttered: "I'd would never had to do this for Mufasa..." Scar stopped singing and glared at him. "WHAT DID YOU SAY? You know me, never mention that name in my presence, I am your leader and you will do as I tell you unless you fancy a day with the firing squad." He thundered at Zazu. "Of course sir, just calm down...you don't want to get another one of your splitting headaches again do you? You have been drinking a lot." Zazu said calmly. "How much I drink and my law are two very different things." He snarled at Zazu. The door to Scar's room suddenly swung open.

Nala appeared, escorted by two of Scar's guards. Scar calmed himself down and swung his chair around to face her. "Ah, Nala...glad you could join me." He said. "You summoned me?" She raised an eyebrow. "Yes I did, now please take a seat." he gestured towards his bed, and then turned towards the guards and Zazu. "Leave us." He said aggressively, they all complied and left the room. "I said take a seat." He said to Nala again. "No thank you, I'd prefer to stand." She said firmly. "Sit, that's an order." He commanded. Nala rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed next to him. Scar cleared his throat and spoke. "Nala you know how much I like you." He started as he picked up her hand. "Yeah, I do. Now what's this about?" She asked worried that he'd found her out. Nala was a double agent, she worked for Scar as a maid, and sometimes a bartender at Banzai's reopened bar and liquor store, however she also worked as a spy for the Resistance, all the drunken soldiers mouthing off at the bar gave her some valuable Intel which she would pass on to the Resistance command. Scar may not have known it until then, but she was responsible for the ambushing and deaths of hundreds of his soldiers. She hated Scar's selfish and cruel regime, and was determined to put and end to it.

"Well, there have been rumors floating around that you have been helping the PRF." Scar said straight up. Shit, I'm finished. Nala thought, frightened. "That's ridiculous, you know how loyal I am to you sir." Nala protested. Scar tightened his grip on her hand. "You know I don't like it when people lie to me. I knew how close you were to the Prince before the revolution." He snarled. Nala trembled with fear and tried to look away from him. "Normally the punishment for a crime of that magnitude would be the firing squad, but I like you a little too much for that. I'm willing to let you make it up to me." Nala turned to look him in the eyes. "What do you mean?" she muttered. A grin swept across Scar's face. "Well every great leader needs a successor you know." Scar started. I doubt anyone would classify you as a great leader. Nala thought. "And I was hoping that successor would be of my own blood." Scar smiled at her seductively and placed his hand gently on her leg. Nala finally understood what he meant. "You're an attractive woman my sweet Nala, I know that and so do you, which is why I have chosen you." Scar said quietly. He slowly began to slide his hand up her skirt. "Stop it." Nala said firmly. "Now, now Nala, you know you like it." Scar whispered. "No I certainly don't. Get away from me." She forced his hand away from her. "Don't touch me ever again." She growled at him. Scar started trembling with rage. "Listen to me you filthy..." He said as he placed a hand over her mouth and tried to force her flat onto his bed. Nala was too strong and skilled for his feeble attack. She yanked his hand off her mouth and within seconds she had him in an arm lock, wincing in pain. She looked into his scarred left eye, glaring at her. She couldn't stand him anymore; she released him and punched him several times as hard as she could. Scar tried to fight back, but was no match for Nala, who to his surprise was a trained soldier. Eventually Scar collapsed onto the floor, unconscious. His nose and lip were bleeding, and a bruise started to develop on his jaw. "SERVES YOU RIGHT YOU DRUNKEN MONSTER!" She shrieked at him.

Nala realized what she had just done and ran out of the room, tears burning her eyes. After that night Scar would place her on the wanted fugitives list and demand her dead body. She ran towards the elevator, tears streaming down her cheeks. Two of Scar's guards stood on each side of the elevator door. "Hey where do you think you're going?" One of the guards said, and he proceeded to point his rifle at her. Before the guards even realized their mistake, they were on the ground dead. Nala blew the smoke off her silenced pistol and stepped into the elevator.

Her mobile phone started ringing in her pocket, she picked it up and accepted the call. "Hey Nala, this is Weaver. Why aren't you at camp? We've all been looking for you." Matthew said. "Yeah I'm sorry, Scar summoned me." She said still sniffling. "Okay, well anyway I got an assignment for you. I need you to track down someone for me, call sign 'Kingfish'. This will be a dangerous one." Matthew spoke carefully, in case it wasn't a safe line. "Okay well we can talk about it when I get back, I'm still trying to survive the last assignment you gave me." She said angrily. "Okay then, Weaver out." Nala pocketed the phone and started to wonder how exactly she planned to escape from this mess she had just gotten herself into. I would have been better off if I just played along with Scar's little game. Nala shook off that thought. Scar would probably have had her shot anyway even if she did sleep with him.

Chapter 13: Reunion

Next day: 1700 hours

Simba lazed behind the television all day, watching the news and other programs. One of the major headlines in the news was that the American government denied the Prideland Resistance any support, fearing they may be getting themselves into another Vietnam-like situation. Simba sat back and sighed, according to the TV his previous homeland had been torn by war and it's economy was down; meaning the country was in it's worst state in history. Simba tried not to think about it, he had lived too long in happiness to concern himself with it now. Simba turned the TV off and walked outside to where Timon and Pumbaa were preparing the barbecue Timon had promised.

"How's it going guys?" He asked enthusiastically. "Good, the salad's ready, and the steaks should be ready in a few minutes." Pumbaa answered. Simba looked over the cooking, it all looked pretty tasty as usual, but he noticed the salad was missing it's usual cucumber. "Hey Timon, I think you forgot the cucumber!" Simba said. "Oh shit, would you mind going inside and cutting some up for me?" Timon asked. "Yeah sure." Simba picked up Pumbaa's huge kitchen knife and walked back inside, Timon followed him in. "I just need to get the table cloths from the closet." Timon said to Simba as he walked towards the corridor near the front door. Simba turned away from him and made his way to the kitchen to cut the cucumber.

Outside, Pumbaa cooked the steaks by himself, whistling The Lion Sleeps Tonight. He flipped the meat normally but then something caught his eye; there was some movement coming from the jungle opposite the mansion. I swear I saw that bush move. He thought, a little frightened. Just your imagination Pumbaa. He thought again and got back to work.

Meanwhile in the jungle opposite the mansion, the sniper exhaled in relief. She had just narrowly avoided being spotted. Thank god for this ghillie suit. She thought. The sniper checked her surroundings; there was no one outside except for her and the fat man cooking about fifty yards away from her. Might as well take the kill. She thought and drew her rifle. She looked through the scope and zoomed in on the lone man behind the barbecue, she lined up the crosshairs carefully and steadied.

Pumbaa had finished flipping the steaks and was about to start seasoning them but something bright shined in his eye. He shielded his eyes from the sudden light and looked up to see what the source was. His gaze was brought back onto the same bush he had seen move a few moments ago, except this time the bush was different. It was in the shape of a man crouching and the source of the light was coming from the sun reflecting off...The scope of a rifle pointed straight at him! "JESUS!" Pumbaa screamed and dropped to floor. BANG! The bullet knocked his chef's hat clean off his head, had he not dropped to the ground he would have been dead for sure. Shit! There goes my cover. Might as well go loud now. She jumped out of her hiding spot and aimed again, but again missed due to Pumbaa running around crazily. Stay still God dammit. She thought and fired again and again, missing each time. Pumbaa ran frantically for the house in a zigzag style, putting off his attacker's aim. Almost at the house! Pumbaa thought as he ran but then something caught his foot, sending him sprawling. It was a tree root he had forgotten to cut, and now his foot was caught in it. Pumbaa desperately tired to yank it free, but it was no use. The sniper caught up with him and pointed the rifle at him from point blank range. Pumbaa flinched and waited for the dooming sound of the gunshot. The sniper squeezed the trigger but nothing happened. Shit, I'm out. I would have been better off if I just let him go and went for the objective. She thought and drew her machete to finish him. She raised the giant blade and prepared to bring it down on his neck, but out of nowhere a large muscular man with a kitchen knife appeared, he leapt over Pumbaa and knocked the machete out of her hand all in one motion.

Simba glared at the camouflaged warrior and started slashing at her with the knife, the sniper was to quick for him though, and she dodged his attacks skillfully. She then grabbed his arm and judo-flipped him over her shoulder and onto the ground. Simba was quick to recover though and was immediately back on his feet, ready to fight. The sniper swung a punch at him, which he ducked skillfully. He used her missed punch against her and before she knew it, Simba's fist slammed into her mouth, sending her tumbling backwards. The force of the blow also knocked the hood of the ghillie suit off her head, revealing that his attacker was actually a woman. Simba paused a little, unsure of whether to keep fighting or give in. The sniper used this split-second advantage and before Simba realized his mistake, he was on the floor at the mercy of the sniper.

The sniper held her blade at his neck, and then hesitated. Oh my god, that's Kingfish, crap, he'll never want to come back with me now. She thought and looked into his eyes, he seemed awfully familiar. Simba stared back into her bright blue eyes. I only knew one person with eyes like that: Nala. The more Simba looked at the woman the more he saw through her camouflage face paint and began to realize who his attacker was. "Nala is that you?" He asked confused. She immediately leapt off him and backed off a little. "Name and rank." She said firmly, still thinking that he was still some sort of P.O.W (Prisoner of War). "What? It's me Simba." He said calmly. Simba, that can't be right, he's dead. She thought initially, but the more she looked at him, she slowly began to see that he wasn't lying; he looked exactly like an adult version of the boy she used to know. It all makes sense now, that was why Weaver wanted him so badly. He's going to replace Scar as rightful leader and he will have no argument. The people will kick him off. She thought. Her shock suddenly turned into joy for her long lost friend, she ran up to Simba and wrapped her arms around him. Simba struggled against her at first, still wary but eventually gave in and hugged back. "I'm still here." Pumbaa said, still on the floor. "Okay what's going on here, what was the screaming about, why aren't you fighting anymore?" Timon suddenly appeared, holding his vintage hunting rifle, Nala pointed her weapon at him but Simba put his hand up. "It's okay he's with me." Simba said quickly. "Timon this is Nala, my old best friend!" Simba exclaimed happily. "Friend? Hold on, I heard Pumbaa screaming and some gunshots, and when I look out the window, you two are going at it with knives." He pointed at Simba and Nala. "Yeah, what was with the attempt on my life?" Pumbaa asked angry. "Well I was sent here to rescue Simba." Nala explained. "Rescue him from what? We're not terrorists, we've been the guys looking after him for the last nine years." Timon said insulted. "Well I'm sorry, our intel was off." Nala apologized. "Intel? What's your job? MI6 or something?" Simba joked. "Actually I work for the PRF, as a spy and soldier. So close enough." Nala informed them. Simba's jaw dropped. So that's why she could fight so damn good.

Timon marched over to her. "Well we don't want any part in your blasted war, and I don't know about the Pridelands, but in our country it's considered very impolite to try and kill people for the sake of it." Timon snarled at her. Nala gestured towards the machete on her belt and Timon stepped back and shut up, she then turned her attention towards Simba again. "Wait till everyone finds out you've been here all this time, and your mother, what would she think?" Nala shook her head as he spoke. "Hold on, so why does everyone back at your old place think you're dead?" Timon asked Simba, he was about to answer but Nala spoke first. "Well nine years ago, he was the son of the King, but then something happened on the freeway and both of them were supposedly dead. That's when his uncle took over and established a socialist government." Nala said solemnly. Timon took a moment to take that all in. That guy on the radio never died, we've been living with a lying Prince all these years! Timon thought, shocked. "So you were a prince? And you never told us?" Timon asked. "Hey I'm still the same guy." Simba said desperately. "But with power now that you're dad's gone. Hell, you're a king now!" Timon exclaimed. "I'm not the king, I was gonna be at one stage, but that was a long time ago. "Simba.." Nala started, disappointed, but Simba cut her off. "No, I'm not in a position of power. Scar's your leader so deal with it." Simba said and started to walk away. "Simba, we need to talk." She said to him quietly. Timon walked up to him to but Nala ushered him away. "Could you excuse us for a few minutes?" She politely asked. "Hey whatever she has to say, she can say it in front of us, right Simba?" Timon turned to him, hoping he would agree.

Simba thought for a minute before deciding that was not a good idea, he hadn't seen Nala in years and could use a little time with her, alone. "Maybe you better leave." Simba said to Timon. Timon looked at him shocked and walked away from him sadly. "You think you know a guy..." He said to himself before joining Pumbaa inside. He took one last look at the sun starting to set, then walked inside. The steaks are going to get cold, what a waste. Timon thought about the barbecue they were meant to have.

Chapter 14: The Love Tonight

Next day: 1700 hours

Simba lazed behind the television all day, watching the news and other programs. One of the major headlines in the news was that the American government denied the Prideland Resistance any support, fearing they may be getting themselves into another Vietnam-like situation. Simba sat back and sighed, according to the TV his previous homeland had been torn by war and it's economy was down; meaning the country was in it's worst state in history. Simba tried not to think about it, he had lived too long in happiness to concern himself with it now. Simba turned the TV off and walked outside to where Timon and Pumbaa were preparing the barbecue Timon had promised.

"How's it going guys?" He asked enthusiastically. "Good, the salad's ready, and the steaks should be ready in a few minutes." Pumbaa answered. Simba looked over the cooking, it all looked pretty tasty as usual, but he noticed the salad was missing it's usual cucumber. "Hey Timon, I think you forgot the cucumber!" Simba said. "Oh shit, would you mind going inside and cutting some up for me?" Timon asked. "Yeah sure." Simba picked up Pumbaa's huge kitchen knife and walked back inside, Timon followed him in. "I just need to get the table cloths from the closet." Timon said to Simba as he walked towards the corridor near the front door. Simba turned away from him and made his way to the kitchen to cut the cucumber.

Outside, Pumbaa cooked the steaks by himself, whistling The Lion Sleeps Tonight. He flipped the meat normally but then something caught his eye; there was some movement coming from the jungle opposite the mansion. I swear I saw that bush move. He thought, a little frightened. Just your imagination Pumbaa. He thought again and got back to work.

Meanwhile in the jungle opposite the mansion, the sniper exhaled in relief. She had just narrowly avoided being spotted. Thank god for this ghillie suit. She thought. The sniper checked her surroundings; there was no one outside except for her and the fat man cooking about fifty yards away from her. Might as well take the kill. She thought and drew her rifle. She looked through the scope and zoomed in on the lone man behind the barbecue, she lined up the crosshairs carefully and steadied.

Pumbaa had finished flipping the steaks and was about to start seasoning them but something bright shined in his eye. He shielded his eyes from the sudden light and looked up to see what the source was. His gaze was brought back onto the same bush he had seen move a few moments ago, except this time the bush was different. It was in the shape of a man crouching and the source of the light was coming from the sun reflecting off...The scope of a rifle pointed straight at him! "JESUS!" Pumbaa screamed and dropped to floor. BANG! The bullet knocked his chef's hat clean off his head, had he not dropped to the ground he would have been dead for sure. Shit! There goes my cover. Might as well go loud now. She jumped out of her hiding spot and aimed again, but again missed due to Pumbaa running around crazily. Stay still God dammit. She thought and fired again and again, missing each time. Pumbaa ran frantically for the house in a zigzag style, putting off his attacker's aim. Almost at the house! Pumbaa thought as he ran but then something caught his foot, sending him sprawling. It was a tree root he had forgotten to cut, and now his foot was caught in it. Pumbaa desperately tired to yank it free, but it was no use. The sniper caught up with him and pointed the rifle at him from point blank range. Pumbaa flinched and waited for the dooming sound of the gunshot. The sniper squeezed the trigger but nothing happened. Shit, I'm out. I would have been better off if I just let him go and went for the objective. She thought and drew her machete to finish him. She raised the giant blade and prepared to bring it down on his neck, but out of nowhere a large muscular man with a kitchen knife appeared, he leapt over Pumbaa and knocked the machete out of her hand all in one motion.

Simba glared at the camouflaged warrior and started slashing at her with the knife, the sniper was to quick for him though, and she dodged his attacks skillfully. She then grabbed his arm and judo-flipped him over her shoulder and onto the ground. Simba was quick to recover though and was immediately back on his feet, ready to fight. The sniper swung a punch at him, which he ducked skillfully. He used her missed punch against her and before she knew it, Simba's fist slammed into her mouth, sending her tumbling backwards. The force of the blow also knocked the hood of the ghillie suit off her head, revealing that his attacker was actually a woman. Simba paused a little, unsure of whether to keep fighting or give in. The sniper used this split-second advantage and before Simba realized his mistake, he was on the floor at the mercy of the sniper.

The sniper held her blade at his neck, and then hesitated. Oh my god, that's Kingfish, crap, he'll never want to come back with me now. She thought and looked into his eyes, he seemed awfully familiar. Simba stared back into her bright blue eyes. I only knew one person with eyes like that: Nala. The more Simba looked at the woman the more he saw through her camouflage face paint and began to realize who his attacker was. "Nala is that you?" He asked confused. She immediately leapt off him and backed off a little. "Name and rank." She said firmly, still thinking that he was still some sort of P.O.W (Prisoner of War). "What? It's me Simba." He said calmly. Simba, that can't be right, he's dead. She thought initially, but the more she looked at him, she slowly began to see that he wasn't lying; he looked exactly like an adult version of the boy she used to know. It all makes sense now, that was why Weaver wanted him so badly. He's going to replace Scar as rightful leader and he will have no argument. The people will kick him off. She thought. Her shock suddenly turned into joy for her long lost friend, she ran up to Simba and wrapped her arms around him. Simba struggled against her at first, still wary but eventually gave in and hugged back. "I'm still here." Pumbaa said, still on the floor. "Okay what's going on here, what was the screaming about, why aren't you fighting anymore?" Timon suddenly appeared, holding his vintage hunting rifle, Nala pointed her weapon at him but Simba put his hand up. "It's okay he's with me." Simba said quickly. "Timon this is Nala, my old best friend!" Simba exclaimed happily. "Friend? Hold on, I heard Pumbaa screaming and some gunshots, and when I look out the window, you two are going at it with knives." He pointed at Simba and Nala. "Yeah, what was with the attempt on my life?" Pumbaa asked angry. "Well I was sent here to rescue Simba." Nala explained. "Rescue him from what? We're not terrorists, we've been the guys looking after him for the last nine years." Timon said insulted. "Well I'm sorry, our intel was off." Nala apologized. "Intel? What's your job? MI6 or something?" Simba joked. "Actually I work for the PRF, as a spy and soldier. So close enough." Nala informed them. Simba's jaw dropped. So that's why she could fight so damn good.

Timon marched over to her. "Well we don't want any part in your blasted war, and I don't know about the Pridelands, but in our country it's considered very impolite to try and kill people for the sake of it." Timon snarled at her. Nala gestured towards the machete on her belt and Timon stepped back and shut up, she then turned her attention towards Simba again. "Wait till everyone finds out you've been here all this time, and your mother, what would she think?" Nala shook her head as he spoke. "Hold on, so why does everyone back at your old place think you're dead?" Timon asked Simba, he was about to answer but Nala spoke first. "Well nine years ago, he was the son of the King, but then something happened on the freeway and both of them were supposedly dead. That's when his uncle took over and established a socialist government." Nala said solemnly. Timon took a moment to take that all in. That guy on the radio never died, we've been living with a lying Prince all these years! Timon thought, shocked. "So you were a prince? And you never told us?" Timon asked. "Hey I'm still the same guy." Simba said desperately. "But with power now that you're dad's gone. Hell, you're a king now!" Timon exclaimed. "I'm not the king, I was gonna be at one stage, but that was a long time ago. "Simba.." Nala started, disappointed, but Simba cut her off. "No, I'm not in a position of power. Scar's your leader so deal with it." Simba said and started to walk away. "Simba, we need to talk." She said to him quietly. Timon walked up to him to but Nala ushered him away. "Could you excuse us for a few minutes?" She politely asked. "Hey whatever she has to say, she can say it in front of us, right Simba?" Timon turned to him, hoping he would agree.

Simba thought for a minute before deciding that was not a good idea, he hadn't seen Nala in years and could use a little time with her, alone. "Maybe you better leave." Simba said to Timon. Timon looked at him shocked and walked away from him sadly. "You think you know a guy..." He said to himself before joining Pumbaa inside. He took one last look at the sun starting to set, then walked inside. The steaks are going to get cold, what a waste. Timon thought about the barbecue they were meant to have.

Chapter 15: He lives in you

Simba suddenly came to his senses. He opened his eyes and sat up in his bed, his room was pitch black and silent. He clapped his hands and the lights came on. Nala groaned next to him. He turned to face her; she forced one eye open and looked at him. "What time is it?" She asked. Simba picked up his mobile phone and checked; "Still only quarter to ten." He said a little surprised. He scrolled through his messages on his phone and found a new one from Timon, sent only half an hour ago. It read: U DONE YET BRO? I think u might have forgotten about our BBQ, whatever happened to bros b4 hoes? Simba sighed as he read it; he had only just realized how much he had hurt Timon and Pumbaa by getting carried away with Nala. He could hear the television downstairs; indicating that they were still awake.

"Hey, I just need to talk to Timon downstairs, I'll be right back." He said and threw his legs over the side of the bed, but Nala gently grabbed his hand. "Stay here with me..." Nala whispered seductively. "No, there's something important I need to talk to him about." Simba argued and put his shorts back on. "Talk to me." Nala insisted. Simba gave in and sat down next to her. "Okay, five minutes. What's bugging you?" Simba said irritated. "Well nothing's bugging me...it's just that I don't understand something. If you've been alive all this time, why didn't you come back home?" She asked. "Well, after my dad died, I just needed to get away and live my own life, I did and it's great. You can't say it's not nice here." Simba said. "Well it is beautiful...but we've really needed you at home." Nala sat up next to him as she spoke, pulling the blanket up with her to cover her up. "No one needs me." Simba sighed. "Yes we do! You're the king!" Nala exclaimed. "No Nala we've been through this, I'm not the king. Pridelands are socialist now and Scar's your leader." Simba said irritated. Nala sighed and put her head in her hands. "Simba, he's killed all the senators. He rules with oppression and greed and that started a civil war. Half the population's disappeared and the whole country looks like what East Side used to. If you don't some back everyone will die!" Nala said desperately. "Listen I'm not going back. You wouldn't understand." Simba stood up and put his shirt on as he argued.

"What wouldn't I understand?" Nala cried out. Simba shook his head and faced her. "Hakuna Matata." He said. "Huh?" Nala looked at him confused. "It's something I've learned out here, sometimes bad things happen, and there's nothing you can do about it. So why worry?" Simba explained. "Because it's your responsibility!" Nala shouted at him now. "Well what about you? You left didn't you?" he said to her angrily. "I was sent to find something that might bring an end to the war, and I found you. Don't you understand? You're our only hope." Nala argued. "Well I'm sorry." Simba said and put on a singlet. Nala then got out of bed and put her top back on. "What's happened to you? You're not the Simba I remember." She said shocked. Simba glared at her. "You're right. I'm not, are you happy now?" Simba snarled. Nala glared back at him and folded her arms. "No, just disappointed." She muttered. Simba started to walk towards his bedroom door. "You know you're starting to sound like my father." He said under his breath. Simba gripped the doorknob and was about to exit the room. "Good. At least one of us does..." Nala said after him. Simba gripped the doorknob with all his strength and the knob almost compacted. That one hurt. He thought and turned around to face her angrily. "LISTEN, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST SHOW UP HERE AND TELL ME HOW TO LIVE MY LIFE! CHRIST, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH!" Simba yelled at her. "I would if you just told me." Nala pleaded with him. Simba turned back towards the door and opened it. "FUCK THAT!" He yelled as he walked. "FINE!" She shouted after him.

Simba stormed downstairs angrily and was noticed by Timon. "So you came to your senses?" Timon said provocatively, referring to the argument he had heard. Simba ignored him and walked outside. He paced outside under the moonlight, gathering his composure. She's wrong. I can't go back, the hell would it prove anyway? He thought and looked at the stars, where his father should be. Simba felt angry at everyone, he felt angry with Nala for pushing him like that, he felt angry at Timon for not understanding his situation and angry at himself. If he hadn't let his father die all those years back then he wouldn't be here, there would be no war and everyone would be happy. The stars again reminded him about the night his father told him he would always be there to guide him. "YOU SAID YOU'D ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ME!" He thundered at the sky. "But you're not, and it's because of me...it's my fault." Simba said to himself and tears started to appear in the corners of his eyes. He sat down on the lawn and let it out. He had bottled up those tears for far too long and was finally letting them out.

Simba stopped when he saw a pair of headlights appear on the driveway. Simba shielded his eyes from the sudden light and stood up to face the strange car. The car pulled up next to him and the driver rolled his window down. The driver was an old African priest who seemed awfully familiar. "You know talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity." He told him cheerfully. "Okay thank you for the tip, I don't know who you are or why you're on our property, but just leave...in case you haven't noticed I'm not in the best of moods right now." Simba told him and started towards the house. "I don't think you know who you are." The priest told him and got out of the vehicle. "Okay then what's my name then genius." Simba said to him sarcastically. The priest caught up with him and pulled him close. "You're a priest...and I'm not." The man chuckled. Simba rolled his eyes and made his way to the underground garage and the man followed him. "I think you're a little confused, now anyway leave me alone." Simba said and opened the door to his GT500. He got in and started the engine, which drowned out the noise of the man's voice. Simba opened the garage door with his remote and sped out, leaving two tire marks behind him. Simba was on his way to the local bar, he didn't usually drink off his problems, but he really felt he could do with shot or two now. Rafiki watched him go and got into his own car, following close behind.

At Gibson's Tavern, ten minutes later.

Rafiki entered the tavern, which was mostly deserted at that time of the night, except for one man sitting behind the bar, hunched over three empty shot glasses; that man was of course, Simba. Rafiki took a seat next to him and gestured to the empty glasses. "So you like to drink off the past do you?" He said. Simba just looked at him with bloodshot eyes and said nothing. "You didn't let me finish before, you don't know who you are do you?" Rafiki said, more serious this time. "And I suppose you know?" Simba spoke for the first time since he ordered the drinks. "Sure do, you're Mufasa's boy!" Rafiki exclaimed. Simba turned around in surprise. "You knew my father?" Simba asked, shocked. "No, I know your father. He is not dead, and I show him to you. Come follow old Rafiki, he knows the way." Rafiki said enthusiastically and tipped his head in the direction of the exit. Simba looked at the drinks he had to pay for but Rafiki said: "I'll pay for them." and slammed a fifty dollar note on the counter. He led Simba outside and through the jungle behind the restaurant. Simba, as athletic as he was, struggled to keep up with the old man. He followed Rafiki through the foliage until he was stopped at a small pond. The water in it was crystal clear, and the moon reflected off it, sending a wavy pattern of light across Simba's face. Rafiki placed a finger over his mouth and signaled for him to be quiet. "Look down there." Rafiki whispered. Simba peered into the water and the only man down there was his reflection. "That's not my father, it's just my reflection." Simba sighed, disappointed. "No, look harder." Rafiki whispered. A gentle breeze suddenly broke out, causing the water too ripple. The wind then died down and Simba looked again, harder this time.

Instead of seeing his reflection he saw his father's face, glaring back at him. Simba stood back shocked. "You see? He lives in you." Rafiki told him. When Simba turned around to look at Rafiki he was gone. "Simba..." A deep voice said. Simba stepped out into a clearing to hear where the voice was coming from. Thick clouds started to appear above him, lightning flashing from inside them but making no noise. "Simba...Look at me." The voice said again.

Chapter 16: Facing the Past

Simba looked around frightened, he eventually looked up towards the sky, where it looked like a storm was brewing. Simba looked long and hard at the clouds swirling in an unnatural fashion. They eventually formed a face, then a neck, then a pair of shoulders. The clouds took the form of his father, looking down on him, with a disappointed face.

"Simba...You have forgotten me." The ghostly image of his father said. Simba's hair was blown around violently as he spoke. "No, How could I?" Simba yelled back up. "You have forgotten who you are, and in doing so you've forgotten me. Look inside yourself Simba, you are more than what you have become, and you must take your place as leader." The voiced boomed from above and Simba started feeling the tears come back. "How can I go back? I'm not who I used to be." Simba whined. "Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true leader." He the voice of his father said, and started to fade away. "Remember..." He repeated again and again as the image started to fade away as well. "Wait! Dad...don't leave me again..." Simba cried out, but the storm started to dissipate and his father faded away. He fought back the tears and pulled himself together. Rafiki then appeared next to him.

"What was that!" Rafiki chuckled. "The weather...very peculiar." Simba nodded. He knew what he had to do now, and that wasn't going to be easy for him. "It seems like things are changing, I know what I need to do...but that means I have to face my past." Simba said. Rafiki then swung his cane at him and hit him in the back of his head. "OW! Shit, what was that for?" Simba yelled, putting a hand on his head to check for blood. "It doesn't matter, It's in the past!" Rafiki laughed. "Yeah but it still hurts." Simba said. "The past can hurt, but the way I see it, you can either run from it...or learn from it." Rafiki said as he swung at Simba again, but Simba had anticipated the blow and blocked it with his arm. "HA! You see? So what are you going to do?" Rafiki asked. "Well first...I'm gonna lose your stick." Simba said and snatched the cane from him, and threw it in the opposite direction to which he faced. When Rafiki retrieved the cane, Simba was running back towards the tavern parking lot. "Hey! Where are you going?" Rafiki cried after him. "Where do you think?" Simba shouted back. "Good! Go on, get out of here!" Rafiki shouted after him. Simba got into his car and gunned it back to Timon's mansion.

At Timon's house, in the lounge room.

Timon and Pumbaa slept peacefully on the sofa, behind the TV, which was still running. Nala entered the room and tapped Timon on the shoulder. "Hey, wake up!" She whispered to him. Timon yawned and opened his eyes to see the woman who had come so close to killing them all not too long ago, staring straight at him from no more than a foot away. Timon screamed and woke Pumbaa who awoke and started screaming as well. Nala rushed to calm them down; "Hold on it's okay, it's just me...CALM DOWN!" She shouted at them. Timon composed himself and pointed a finger at her; "Don't ever do that again." He panted. Nala shook her head. "Anyway, where's Simba?" She asked. "I don't know, I thought he was with you...you know...having a grand old time." Timon folded his arms as he spoke and raised an eyebrow at her. Nala rolled her eyes in disgust. "He was, now I can't find him." She said as the front door swung open. Simba charged inside the house and went upstairs. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Timon yelled after him. "I'm going home!" Simba yelled back. A smile appeared on Nala's face, and Timon looked at her in disgust. "Thank you bitch, our buddy's going to ditch us and die in a pointless war because of you." He snarled at her.

Simba came back down the stairs, wearing a polo neck jacket and holding a 9mm pistol in his hand that Timon hadn't seen before. "I'm not ditching anyone, you're coming with me. Trust me on this, it will be better for all of us in the long run, and by doing this you are saving thousands of innocent lives, and no one's going to die. What do you say pal? Hakuna Matata?" Simba held out a hand towards Timon. Timon thought for a minute before finally agreeing, he shook Simba's hand reluctantly. "Fine, Hakuna Matata." He said. Timon still wasn't sure about it. How could he expect to overthrow Scar's government single handedly? Simba had promised him that there would be no problems doing it, but he didn't know what to believe from that guy anymore. Apparently he was relying on support from the Americans and the people of the Pridelands. Once it was acknowledged that the king's son lived, Scar's communists would be recognized as the bad guys by the world, and the PRF command would be the rightful government, being the monarchists.

"Get changed, we're leaving tonight." Simba said to Timon. "Wait hold on a second, we're going now?" Timon said surprised. "Yes, if we leave tonight we will be at the PRF camp sometime next morning. Now go get dressed in dark colors or camo, oh and take our rifle." Simba said. Timon complied and rushed upstairs. "The rifle won't be necessary." Nala said to Simba and he raised an eyebrow. "Come with me." She said and led him outside, and into the jungle where her camouflage painted Jeep Wrangler was hidden. She opened the trunk to reveal an entire arsenal of weapons. There were sub-machine guns, assault rifles; plenty of ammunition and various weapon accessories there. "You're going to need a bit more than a hunting rifle to take on Scar's boys." She told him. Simba smiled and said: "Okay then, I'll take it." Nala looked at him. "Which ones?" Nala asked him. "All of them." Simba said with a grin and turned away. Okay, so I'll carry it all, that's quite gentlemanly. Nala thought and started to pick up the guns and ammo. "Now come with me, it's my turn to impress you." Simba said and lead her down to the underground garage.

When Nala saw the GT500, her heart almost stopped. Her father had always dreamed of owning that car, and he taught Nala all about it. "Wow...It's pretty." She stuttered. "Yeah, we're going to need something a bit faster than a Jeep to take on Scar." He said and opened the trunk. "Put all weapons in here, if Timon sees them he'll freak out." Simba said and Nala started placing them neatly into the car, she finished just as Timon and Pumbaa entered the garage. "Alright fellas, let's roll!" Timon said enthusiastically as he put on his sunglasses, even though it was night. Simba started the car and revved the engine.

Chapter 17: Chase through Prideland City

Simba, Nala, Timon and Pumbaa drove long into the night, everyone slept except Timon and Simba; who was driving. "Hey Timon, I never got to say sorry about before. I didn't mean to miss your barbecue; I just wanted to spend a little time with Nala. You understand right?" Simba said. "Yeah, I understand. It just hurt me because that barbecue was for you, and you chose some chick who you apparently know from a while ago who tried to kill you instead of us." Timon said, tired. "And I also don't like how you are making us go into some life threatening situation because of her." Timon continued. "It wasn't her that made me go back, it was my father." Simba corrected him. "Oh, so you're going to wage war on your homeland because some voice in you head told you to do it?" Timon said concerned. "It wasn't some voice in my head, just trust me on this." Simba requested. "Whatever you say pal, now I'm going to call it a day." Timon said and leant back on the back seat, before closing his eyes.

Next Day

Simba drove tirelessly until he reached the border, this time it was much more heavily guarded, and had a red and black communist flag flying. Make or break time. Simba thought and woke everyone up. He stopped the elegant car at the booth and rolled his window down. A soldier appeared and walked up to their car, he was very short and carried an AKM assault rifle. As he walked up to the car window he ran his finger along the paint of the Mustang, making a screeching sound that made Timon flinch; he detailed the car for Simba's birthday only days ago. "Jesus, I just had that detailed, tell him he's tall and maybe he'll pass us." Timon suggested to Simba. "Passports please." The man said aggressively. Simba smiled at him. "How ya doing buddy? We're from New York, in America. I'm sorry we don't have our passports with us, my wife forgot them at the hotel." Simba said in his best American accent, gesturing to Nala who shrugged, pretending to play his little game. The soldier smiled and said: "You're American? Of course you may come through, enjoy your time here!" The soldier said and gestured for the guards in the booth to raise the gate. How the hell did that work? Simba thought.

Nala looked around and saw a security camera pointed straight at her, she gasped and looked the other way. Shit, they've seen me. She thought.

Simba drove through and into the city; it was exactly how Nala had described. The whole place was run down, and looked exactly like how East Side used to. They passed several closed down shops, probably all closed due to Scar's shocking economy. Nala felt a sudden nauseous feeling sweep over her. "Hey Simba could you stop at the next convenience store? I feel a bit sick." She said. Simba eventually found a 7/11 that wasn't closed down or smashed into. He parked the car and everyone walked inside.

Back at Scar's Palace.

Scar sat back on his office chair, lazing about as usual, while Banzai sat next to him. The phone suddenly rang and Banzai picked it up. "Hallo...yeah it's Banzai speaking...wait you found who?...Okay what's her location?...alright I'm on it now." Banzai hung up the phone and looked at Scar. "She's back, and with three other schmucks. What do you want me to do?" Banzai asked. "Kill them, all of them. And see to it yourself." Scar commanded him. "Yeah, but I need a car." Banzai asked. Scar thought for a minute before pulling out the keys to his beloved Dodge Challenger. He pulled Banzai close and whispered to him: "Not a scratch you hear me? Not a scratch." He told him and Banzai left the room to get Ed to accompany him.

Back at the Convenience Store.

Simba, Timon and Pumbaa rushed into the store and began picking out small snacks for the rest of their trip, Nala snuck off to the toilets out the back. She lifted the seat and vomited. What is wrong with me? Oh no... I can't be...Last night...oh shit. She thought as she panted. She pulled herself together and joined the others in the store. She approached Timon who was looking for a suitable bag of Doritos. "Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot. We okay now?" She asked him. Timon raised an eyebrow and said: "Yeah we're cool." Nala exhaled in relief and got his attention again. "Well there's something I need to tell you, can you keep a secret?" She asked. Timon turned away from the shelf and looked at her seriously. "Well that depends on what the secret is." He said. Nala rolled her eyes and continued. "Well anyway, about last night with Simba...well there's kind of a chance that I may be..." She started but Timon cut her off. "Pregnant?" He interrupted. Nala nodded sadly. "Well that's just great, so that's why you felt sick earlier." Timon sighed and brought his bags of Doritos to the counter where Simba was standing. He placed them down on the counter and pointed a finger at Simba. "Later on, you and I are going to have a discussion you won't enjoy." He told him sharply and exited the store, as he walked he turned around to glare at Nala; whose face had turned bright red.

Simba paid for the snacks and returned to the car. He got in and started the engine. Nala looked through the window of the car and saw a red and black Dodge Challenger parked up on the sidewalk that wasn't there before. Weird She thought as they pulled out of the parking lot and started down the main road. None of them noticed the Challenger start its motor and begin to follow them.

Simba drove down the main road casually, unaware of the two hit men behind him in the Challenger. He drove down several roads and they followed, Nala eventually noticed them. "Simba, we're being followed by that red Challenger, don't look at them." She said quietly. Simba looked in his rear view mirror and saw them. Banzai and Ed sat nervously in the car, they knew exactly how dangerous Nala was, and needed to wait until they drove down a deserted street or alley before they shot. Banzai looked at his targets, Nala sat in the passenger seat, with some big guy driving and two punks in the back seat. Nice car though. Banzai thought and admired the GT500. He watched the car turn down a tight street. "Okay Ed, here's our chance, load up the shotty." Ed complied and put the shells into the shotgun. Banzai steered the car down the same street, but the Mustang was nowhere to be seen. Strange. He went down the tight street and it lead him to the main road, Banzai looked left and right, but there was still no Shelby Mustang in his sight. Shit we've lost them. He thought and started down the main road. He sighed as he drove. Scar's not going to be happy. Ed suddenly pointed at their rear view mirror, alarmed. Banzai shot a glance at the mirror and to his horror he saw the distinctive blue Shelby Mustang appear over the rise in the road, starting to follow them. He picked up his radio and tried to contact some back up, but the radio was being jammed. Great, now they're on our ass. Well done Nala you clever girl. He noticed some traffic lights ahead of them and slowed to a stop, next to a few other cars.

Simba pulled up behind Banzai and Ed and buckled in his seatbelt. "What are you doing?" Timon asked, worried. "We got to stop them before they get back to their camp and raise the alarm. Nala?" He said and Nala nodded. She drew her pistol and removed the silencer. In front of them Banzai revved the engine of the Challenger, and Simba revved the Mustang's in response. "Everyone strap in, shit's about to get real." Simba announced. Everyone fastened their seat belts and got ready for the chase.

The light suddenly turned green, and with a screech of tires Banzai gunned the car away. Simba slammed his foot down on the accelerator and followed, he frantically changed gears as he chased the Challenger. Timon and Pumbaa screamed like little girls in the back seat, but the roar of the car's engine drowned their voices out. Simba gripped the steering wheel as he threw the car into a corner, just skimming the concrete barrier that separated the road from a cliff. Simba handled the high-speed chase skillfully, unlike Banzai and Ed who were constantly hitting things; eventually they came to a series of hills and slopes, much resembling the streets of San Francisco. The Challenger flew over the hill and crashed down on the next slope. "EVERYBODY HOLD ON!" Simba yelled over the roar of the car's massive engine. He gunned the car up the first hill and went airborne as the Mustang went over it. The G force of the incredible speed kept his back flat against the seat, and the impact of when the car crashed back down to the ground after each jump sent shockwaves up his spine. Eventually the painful series of jumps and hills finished and they turned onto a flat road once again. Simba struggled to keep up with the Challenger, it was a far newer and faster car than his, but he drove his vehicle with much more skill.

Simba used the empty, straight road to his advantage and pulled up alongside his attackers. "Nala now!" He yelled out and Nala rolled down her window and aimed the gun. She struggled to aim at the high speed, but she still managed to line up the shot and fire. The bullet struck the glass, but only scratched it. "IT'S BULLET PROOF GLASS I CAN'T KILL 'EM" She yelled over the engine and Timon's screaming. "SHOOT THE TIRES!" Simba shouted back. The Mustang's speedometer now read 118 miles per hour, and the corner in front of them loomed. Nala aimed and fired, the Challenger's back tire exploded and the wheel scraped up against the road, sending sparks everywhere. Now! Simba thought and rammed into the side of the out of control car, forcing it into a violent roll on the side of the road. Simba slowed the car and inspected the damage, the Challenger was completely wrecked, and it started to catch fire. No way they survived that. He thought. Timon and Pumbaa's screaming started to cease. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Nice driving 007." Nala complimented him. "When we get to this camp of yours I'm going to kill you." Timon panted. Simba chuckled and continued towards his original destination: The PRF camp.

As Simba drove away, a wounded Banzai and Ed slinked out of their wrecked car. Banzai picked up his walkie talkie (which was no longer being jammed) and said: "Mission failed...pursued by a '68 Shelby Mustang, blue. License plates: H-O-R-S-P-O-W-E-R" Banzai panted into the radio before collapsing on the dirt.

Chapter 18: Rebel Base

The four drove on until they finally reached an old warehouse, guarded by two men with assault rifles. "We're here." Nala said and they drove up to the guards. The guards opened the door and yanked Simba, Timon and Pumbaa out and forced them onto the ground, placing them in arm locks. "NO! It's okay...they're with me...that's Kingfish!" Nala told them and they released the three. "Yeah damn right." Timon snarled as he got to his feet. One of the guard's jaws dropped when he saw Simba. "Kingfish..." He muttered. Simba recognized the code name and said: "Yeah that's right...enjoy your next job at McDonalds dickhead." Simba turned to Nala. "So where do we park?" He asked. Nala just took the keys from him and tossed them to one of the guards. The guard nodded and drove the car inside the warehouse, where several other combat vehicles were parked. As the guard drove, Timon got a glimpse of all the damage done to the car during the chase with Banzai and Ed, there were scratches, dents, and dirt everywhere. "Oh my..." Timon didn't even finish the sentence and placed a hand over his mouth in disgust. A guard then opened the trunk and started unloading the weapons and ammo. "Were we just driving around like that with bullets and bombs in the back there?"

Simba nodded with a serious expression. "Jesus Christ..." Timon muttered and fainted into Pumbaa's arms. Nala couldn't help but laugh this time. The two guards led them to a closet that turned out to be an elevator, they pressed a button and it took them down at least a hundred feet. As soon as the doors opened, they all stepped out and Simba could not believe his eyes.

On the outside it looked like an abandoned warehouse, but underground it was a huge buzzing military base. Soldiers patrolled the corridors and there were several other soldiers; men and women alike enjoying that morning's breakfast, which was not much. As they were led down a corridor, Simba looked in several room's windows, there were armories, command rooms, troops' quarters, computer labs and each room had one thing in common: they all had the original Prideland National Flag mounted on the wall. Simba noticed a portrait on the wall of him and his father together, it read: MUFASA: BELOVED KING AND LEADER 1965-2006, SIMBA: BELOVED PRINCE AND CHILD 1994-2006. Simba sighed as he looked at it. "In here, General Woods wants a word with you." One of the soldiers said, pointing at a door that read: COMMAND ROOM. Simba opened the door and entered, followed by Timon and Pumbaa. "And where are you going?" Simba asked Nala before closing the door. "Uh, I need to report to the armory." She lied. Once they had closed the door Nala rushed down to the medical center, with only one thing on her mind.

She shoved the door open and walked quickly down the casualty ward, the horrors of war were unfolding in front of her, there were soldiers on beds with wounds that ranged from mild flesh wounds to limbs that had been torn off by grenades or other explosives. She tried to breathe through her mouth as the smell of flesh and blood filled her nostrils, but none of the horrific things she saw around her mattered to her now, she needed to find the truth. She opened the door to the medical storeroom and rummaged through all the equipment. Eventually she came across a pregnancy test. She then rushed to the bathroom.

The test turned out positive and Nala gasped. That can't be...I'm only 21...I'm not ready yet. She thought and tried to refrain from crying; in the ranks crying was considered weakness unless you were a new recruit. As much as she didn't like the news, there was no denying it. Sergeant Nala Kelly was going to be a mother. I can't tell Simba... well at least not yet. She thought and left the bathroom. If everything went right, there was a chance the child would be a prince or princess. Nala pulled herself together and made her way to the barracks.

Meanwhile at the command room, Simba looked around, a bit intimidated by the professionals in the room. There were some men on the phone frantically shouting orders and others quietly behind computers, and others studying tactical maps and marking locations. Two men then burst into the room, one an older gentleman in his 60s with WOODS stitched onto his shirt and the other was a much younger man with a short black haircut and had WEAVER stitched onto his uniform. Both of them had the old Prideland flag patch on their shoulder. The older man smiled when he saw him and said: "Welcome back, your majesty." He bowed at Simba. Simba just went about it casually like he was in no position of power. "Hey, how ya doing? Name's Simba." He said and offered a hand to him. The man shook his hand, surprised at his casual tone. "Anyway, everyone is extremely glad you're back, including the UN and NATO, they're glad the good guys still exist somewhere. You can tell me about how you survived the '06 bombing at dinner tonight, but now we have something far more important to do." He led him to another room, General Woods gestured for Simba to be quiet. A uniformed man stood behind a TV camera speaking.

"...So we are not just any renegades. We don't believe in genocide, greed and poverty like our government does, we are for peace, prosperity and democracy. As you may be aware, the son of our ex-king Mufasa was found alive a few days ago after years of being believed dead, he is the rightful leader of this nation so our cause is just. We believe he may be able to restore our original constitutional monarchy with your support. We would now like you to see and hear from him."

Simba looked to a TV screen and found that it was being broadcasted live to the United Nations council in New York. The man that was talking gestured for him to come over. "Shit, what do I say?" Simba whispered frantically to Woods. "Just think of something meaningful." Woods said back. Simba joined the man in front of the TV camera and stood there. He could hear all the members of the UN whispering amongst themselves on the screen. The man next to him nudged him, trying to get him to say something. "Hello everyone, you all know why I'm here. I've been in hiding ever since my father died back in '06 and now I realize why that was the wrong thing to do. My uncle has set up a terrible regime in my absence that was set up on the fact there was no one left to rule, which we now know is wrong. I've come back to save thousands of innocent lives from my uncle's greed and cruelty, and I cannot do that without support. We are the rightful government of this country and deserve to have our place back, not just for our good but for the good of the country and it's people. Did the world stand by when Vietnam turned communist? No, but people were too damn selfish to think of the people that lived there and the war was lost. We are not only a stronger force, but we are going to win because we doing it for good. So this is why we need and ask for your support...Thank you." Simba finished. The people on the TV exchanged glances and then started clapping. A man then stood up from his seat on TV and spoke. "Thank you very much your majesty and General Woods, the United Nations will put a lot of consideration into your request." He said before the TV went black. Simba blushed a little at being called 'your majesty' but realized it was something he was going to have to get used to if everything went right.

Chapter 19: The Art of War

That night Simba was given his PRF uniform. It was like the others except his had a golden trimming to it, indicating his high rank. He was to wear it to dinner at the mess, where Woods was throwing a party to celebrate his return. When he entered the room, several people cheered and whistled, welcoming him. He just nodded at the people swarming around him and shoved them aside. He took his seat next to General Woods. "Quite an enthusiastic group you have here." Simba said to him. Woods nodded and replied: "Yes, a few days ago there was no belief here, no morale. You changed all that, now there is not a single soul in this building that does not think we're going to win this war." Woods told him. Simba looked around; at every single table men were smiling and talking amongst themselves. The whole area had a new, positive feeling to it. The doors to the mess suddenly swung open and Nala appeared, wearing a bright red dress and high heels. No one had ever seen her that way before and all the men whistled their approval and jeered playfully, Nala gave all the loud ones a sarcastic punch on the arm.

All eyes were now on her, and she realized that. She took her place next to Simba at the table. "Sergeant Nala, if I'm not mistaken the dress standard for this event was uniform." Woods said. "My bad." She said and sat down. Woods rolled his eyes, she was one of his best soldiers and he thought he'd give her a break, but he still didn't want her to be eye candy for the rest of troops. Simba sat there stunned. "So anyway, you said you were going to tell us your story tonight." The man called Weaver said. "Yeah, so this is what happened..." Simba started and told him the long story, he told him about the traffic rush and his father's death (But was very careful to avoid saying he was responsible for it), how he was trapped in the drain, how he was saved by Timon and Pumbaa, all the good times he had growing up and how Nala found him. Woods and Weaver were amazed at all the things the guy had been through. Woods reached under the table and produced a bottle of champagne. He poured everyone a glass, and eventually reached to fill Nala's.

"None for me thanks." She said firmly. Woods raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" Simba asked, suspicious. "Not in the mood for it, I'll just stick with water." She said and filled her glass with water. Can't let him find out the truth. She thought. "Can I get everyone's attention please?" Woods suddenly shouted out loud and everyone went silent and looked towards him standing.

"Thank you, now that I have your attention, I would just like to thank each and every one of you for making this possible, throughout the years your courageous service has made me proud to know you, and it has finally paid off...I have an announcement to make...NATO has just agreed to send us support as of Wednesday!"

Everyone suddenly leapt to their feet and cheered, they also exchanged high-fives and hugs. Woods raised a hand and again everyone silenced. "I would also like to thank the man that has made all this possible for us...your king, Simba." Woods said and again everyone clapped. "I would like to propose a toast..." Woods started and lifted his glass. "To Simba...and to Victory."

"To Simba and to Victory." Everyone said and took a sip.

Later on that evening

Simba sat in the command room, anxiously waiting for General Woods. He finally entered and sat down in front of a map. "I'm going to get straight to the point, we're going to attack Scar on Wednesday, it's risky but we're going to have to rely on NATO getting to the party in time." Woods said. Simba nodded. "So how's it going to happen?" Simba asked. "Well, what are your orders?" Woods asked back. Simba realized that he technically out ranked Woods, but there was no way he could win without his experience. "Well, I'm going to leave the assault plan up to you...but I need one thing to happen. I want a small team composed of your best men and myself to go after Scar while you guys and NATO go at it with Scar's army. Don't ask why, it's just personal." Simba said. Nala had told him about how Scar had tried to rape her, and now he was going to pay for that, not to mention the thousands of innocent people he'd killed and how he had wrecked the country. "I trust you on this, from what I hear, you seem to be quite good at this...art of war if that's what you want to call it." Simba told him. "Thank you sir, we'll start arming up in the morning." Woods said and saluted him. Simba returned the gesture and left. Woods was glad Simba had decided to leave the tactics to him, leaving them to some 21 year old punk with no army experience could prove costly.

At Nala's quarters.

Nala got changed into her nightgown and got ready for bed; it was going to be a big day for everyone tomorrow. She heard a knock come from her door, she opened the door and Weaver stood there. "Oh hey Matt, what are you still doing up?" She asked surprised. "I was just cleaning out my weapon but I got bored, so I thought I'd come talk to you." He said. "Sure, come on in." Nala opened the door fully and gestured for him to come inside. "Quite a move, dressing like that for dinner." He said and sat down on her stool. "Yeah I know." She said, annoyed. "So anyway you ready for the assault? I heard that once NATO gets here on Wednesday, we're going to do the final push." Weaver told her and yawned. "Actually, I thought I'd sit this one out." Nala said, taking a pin out of her hair.

"You're pregnant aren't you?" Weaver said. Nala turned around in surprise to face him. He was no longer sitting on the stool casually, but standing up with a stern look on his face. "No I'm not." Nala lied and pulled her socks off, pretending there was no significance to the accusation. "I'm not stupid Nala, I know how close you were to Simba back at school, and I was wondering why you wouldn't have any alcohol at dinner tonight, or why you came out of the toilet block crying. It all adds up." Weaver said. Nala looked at him shocked. "Just don't tell Simba about it okay? He's the father." Nala admitted and tried to stop herself from crying. "Fine, but that's the last time I send you on a rescue mission, if that's what you do on them. No wonder why you were so late." He said and headed for the door. Nala couldn't think of anything to say.

Before leaving, Weaver reached into his pocket and pulled out a rifle silencer, he tossed it to Nala. "We need you on Wednesday, that silencer has been modified to fit your rifle. We wouldn't want junior to be exposed to the sound of gunshots at such a young age eh?" He said. "For the last time, I'm not going in with you guys, it's too dangerous for the baby." Nala argued. "You are, you've been assigned to overwatch on Simba's private squad. That should be a pretty safe and quiet job in comparison to everyone else, you know I had to pull a few strings to get that job for you, otherwise it would have been the infantry." She exhaled held the door open. "Well thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." Nala said and began to close the door behind him. "Good night." Weaver said and left. Overwatch, better than front lines. Nala thought. She still didn't like the idea of going into combat pregnant, but that was something she was going to have to deal with. She rubbed her belly and slipped into bed.

Chapter 20: Operation Knife Edge

Wednesday, 1600 hours

The day had come, and the entire base was dead silent. NATO support had not arrived yet, but was still expected to during the day. Everyone was wearing his or her combat gear, waiting in the warehouse for the order to roll out. Simba entered the command room and approached Woods. "NATO here yet?" He asked. "Negative, we're going to have to go in without them." Woods said. "You think we can handle it alone? We'll be outnumbered like ten to one, not to mention that Scar's got a bit more firepower" Simba asked, worried. "I have known these guys for a long time, there is no way a shortage of numbers or a lack of firepower will let us down, we are stronger, wiser, braver and tougher...and we have the will to win." Woods said, confident. Simba nodded and turned to the PA microphone.

"Operation Knife Edge is a go, all units launch, good luck." He said and several floors up, the order rang out on the speakers. Soldiers sprung out of whatever positions they were in and scrambled into their vehicles. The sound of engines starting and weapons being loaded filled the air. The doors to the warehouse opened and the vehicles started rolling out. There were Humvees, trucks with huge .50 caliber machine guns mounted, BTRs and other troop carrying cars all heading for the same place: the palace. They were to engage the Scar's forces and slowly crush them, while Scar's attention was directed at the battlefield, Simba and a team of commandoes were going to infiltrate the palace quietly and capture Scar. They were also bringing a video camera with them so that they could film their success.

Simba entered the room where his team was; the commandoes stood in a line and waited for him to talk. There were nine members in total, Timon and Pumbaa were among them, an ex Prideland marine called 'Jackson', a tactical sniper called 'Frost', an equipment specialist called 'Rex', a weapons and ammo expert named 'Westbrook', a light machine gunner called 'Swifty', and a PRF captain named 'EJ' (he was the one who was in charge of the camera) and of course, their sniper and overwatch: Nala. They all had camouflage painted faces and were all ready to fight. Simba looked over them and spoke.

"This is your last chance to turn back, take a look at the person next to you. There is a good chance that by the end of today, you...or they...will be dead." Simba started.

Timon shivered a little at that thought, he wasn't ready to die yet, even if it was for a good cause. "Those that are willing to make that sacrifice...step forward please." Everyone took one step forward, including Timon and Pumbaa. Simba nodded his approval. "Well then let's get this show on the road." He said. The team responded with the famous U-RAH! and readied their weapons. Simba led them upstairs and into the helicopter waiting for them on the roof of the warehouse. As soon as the last person was on board, the chopper ascended and started to make it's way to their marked drop zone.

On board the UH-1 helicopter designation: 4400X

Weaver sat on the edge of the helicopter and held his M16 rifle nervously. This was it. He looked up and saw the several other PRF choppers flying next to him, and they started to slow down. "Approaching DZ now, lock and load." He heard the pilot say over the radio. Weaver made the sign of the cross and said a quick prayer before they started to descend. A bullet struck the side of the chopper with a sickening TWANG! And everyone jumped in surprise. "We're taking fire! Engage God damn it!" Someone on another chopper shouted into the radio. "Roger that Bravo-6, engaging now." Their pilot said and turned the helicopter to face the building that was infested with Scar's soldiers. Two missiles suddenly burst out of the helicopter's launcher and slammed into the building that seemed to be causing all the trouble.

The building exploded into a giant ball of fire and debris was thrown everywhere. "Nice shot Hunter 2-1" The other helicopter's pilot complimented them. The helicopter then slowly began to descend again. Everyone unbuckled their seat belts and pulled their goggles over their eyes. "PLAY THE MUSIC PRIVATE!" Weaver yelled, as they got ready to deploy. The soldier pressed play on a huge sound system in the back of the helicopter and ACDC's Shoot to Thrill started blasting away. Weaver grinned, as he got ready to enter the battle. "LET'S DO THIS!" He shouted one last time before jumping out of the helicopter. All the men in his platoon followed behind him, they ran fearlessly to cover as the enemy's machine guns blazed. The music from the helicopter was still playing loudly above them.

I'm gonna pull it, pull it

Pull the trigger

Shoot to thrill, play to kill

Too many women, too many pills

Shoot to thrill, play to kill

I got my gun at the ready, gonna fire at will

No lyrics could match their position better. Weaver raised his rifle and fired a burst at a Communist machine gun crew in the window of another building, but he shouldn't have bothered. A PRF AH-6 attack helicopter buzzed over and fired a deadly burst of gunfire into the window and took them out in less then a second. He gave the low flying pilot a quick salute and the pilot returned the gesture. Weaver's squad then burst out of their cover and advanced down the streets of Prideland City. There were the occasional bullets that flew their way, but they were panicked shots and rarely came close to hitting anyone. Scar's army fled the huge wave of PRF forces that blasted their way to the palace. ACDC continued to blare out loud above them from the choppers, and it struck fear into the hearts of Scar's communists, but inspired Simba's PRF.

Chapter 21: The Hunt for Scar

Simba and his team rose from the water slowly, their weapons were pointed in all directions. Being deployed into the river was a great idea; they would silently follow it until it ran next to the palace. They swam quietly until they came across the bridge that crossed the river and led to the palace, two of Scar's soldiers patrolled it, on full alert now that there was a war happening down town. "Get down!" Simba whispered frantically and everyone dived under the water before they were spotted. The soldier peered over the edge and saw nothing in the murky water, so he stood against the edge with his back turned, in case there were any more odd noises.

Simba slowly emerged from the river and spoke into his water-proof radio; "Nala, there's two hostiles on the bridge...take out their eyes." Simba ordered. Nala was trailing far behind, giving them sniper cover. Nala received the order and aimed her M21 sniper rifle. She zoomed in on her first target and held her breath. Good night to you commie. She thought and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the soldier between the eyes and fell over the edge of the bridge, dead. Simba reached up and caught him before he hit the water and made a loud splashing sound. "Tango down." Nala said into the radio. She then lined up the cross hairs over the head of the second man. Meanwhile the second man had noticed his partner had strangely disappeared and became alarmed. Nala fired again. POOF! The sound of the silenced rifle was quiet, yet deadly. The second man slumped dead onto the ground, with a bullet hole in his forehead.

"Okay, I got eyes on the bridge. The area is empty, you're clear to advance." Nala informed them. Simba and his squad made their way to the bank and started towards the palace on foot, and Nala followed close behind. They eventually came to the palace gates. A guard in the booth sat there, sleeping. "I got this one." EJ said and unsheathed his knife. He snuck up behind the sleeping guard and placed a hand over his mouth, so that no one could hear him scream. The guard woke and panicked for a second, but EJ's hand muffled out the noise, before the guard even knew what was happening he was on the floor with a slit neck, bleeding out. "Clear." EJ said and opened the gates. The nine of them carefully crept inside, but were forced to take cover when an armed truck approached. The truck drove straight past them and headed towards the front gate, the truck was then followed by around fifty infantrymen and two tanks. They were headed for the battle on the other side of town. Simba looked in the direction they had come from and saw that there were now only roughly fifteen soldiers guarding the palace entrance. He wanted to get them out of the way with the least amount of noise possible.

"So what's you're plan for getting past those guys?" Timon asked quietly. "Live bait." Simba answered, hinting at Timon's next job. "Good idea...hey!" Timon said angrily. "C'mon, I need you and Pumbaa to create a diversion so we can get in." Simba pleaded with him. Timon sighed and nodded in agreement. "Okay Pumbaa, time for some music." Timon said. He pulled out his iPod and played Buffalo Soldier by Bob Marley. He ran out into the open singing along.

Buffalo soldier, dreadlock rasta

There was a buffalo soldier in the heart of America

Stolen from Africa, brought to America

Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival.

Timon pretended to be drunk as he sung it, and the guards noticed him and shouted: "HEY YOU! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!" Timon didn't reply and kept singing. The soldiers then rushed up to him and forced him to the floor, then they confiscated his iPod and sidearm. There was now a clear path between Simba and the entrance, and he gave his squad the signal to move. "P-please don't kill me." Timon begged the guards. A voice suddenly rang out behind them. "Drop him!" Pumbaa demanded them. He stood there facing the fifteen soldiers with his M249 machine gun pointed at them. One of the soldiers giggled. "Who's the fat ass?" He chuckled. "You talkin' to me?" Pumbaa said in a voice that sounded a lot like Robert De Niro's.

"You shouldn't have said that." Timon murmured from the ground. "ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?...THAT'S MR. FAT-ASS TO YOU PUNK!" Pumbaa screamed and pulled the trigger of his machine gun. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG! He fired a long burst from the mighty weapon and turned his insolent opponents into a steaming pile of mangled flesh. Timon got to his feet and sniffed the air. "I love the smell of Pumbaa in the morning." Timon exclaimed and winked at his best friend. "C'mon let's go find the others... we got us a dictator to catch." Timon said and led him into the palace.

Meanwhile on the 38th floor.

Simba and his team stormed through the corridors, silently killing any guard or soldier that happened to show himself. They finally reached the famed lounge and Scar's office; the same room had the balcony that overlooked the monument park. Simba poked his head around the corner and saw his mother being escorted to the balcony. He looked at the balcony, and Scar stood there, watching the battle unfolding down town. Scar turned around to face Sarabi, with a stern expression on his face. "What's happened to our negotiations with the UN?" He asked angrily. "They're not going to help us, they know you are responsible for war crimes." She said, not frightened by his tone. "You're just not trying hard enough, look what's happening because of you!" Scar pointed at the battle in the distance. "As chief political officer, it's my responsibility to tell you it's over. There's no chance they are going to help us. We have only one choice...we must return to democracy." She said. Scar looked at her, outraged. "We're going to do no such thing." He said firmly. "Then you're just leading the country to destruction." She said, disgusted. "Well then so be it." Scar said. "You can't do that!" She argued. "I can do whatever I want." He sneered. Sarabi then lost her cool.

"If you were half the leader Mufasa was..." She started but Scar cut her off. "I'M TEN TIMES THE LEADER MUFASA WAS!" He shouted and struck her in the face. Sarabi collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

Simba had been watching the whole thing and was outraged by Scar's last action. He jumped out of his cover and fired a shot from his handgun into the air. His team was a little surprised by his reaction but followed him out. "EVERYONE DROP YOUR WEAPONS! GET DOWN WITH YOU HANDS UP NOW!" Private Jackson shouted, with his sub-machine gun pointed at enemy soldiers. They all complied and dropped to their knees with their hands behind their heads. Scar jumped back in fright, a very familiar man stormed towards him, with a very angry look on his face. "Mufasa...No you're dead." He said to himself, frightened out of his wits. Simba glared at the evil dictator and bent down to help his stunned mother, he placed a hand on her cheek and she opened her eyes. "Mufasa?" She whispered. Simba shook his head. "No, it's me...Simba." He said gently. "You're alive? How can that be?" She said, confused. Scar started to calm down, Simba was someone who he could deal with. "Simba, such a surprise to see you...alive." Scar said and glared at Shenzi, Banzai and Ed; who were among the soldiers held at gunpoint.

Simba cocked the M9 pistol and turned his attention back towards Scar. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brain out right now." He said threateningly. Scar felt the fear return to him as he advanced.

Chapter 22: Overrun

Scar was forced back against the wall, with Simba's handgun pressed up against his forehead. "Well you see, the pressures of leading a country..." Scar stuttered, but

Simba cut him off. "Are no longer yours. Step down or fight, your choice." Simba growled. "Must this all end in violence?" Scar said and reached into his pocket, there was a small transmitter he kept in there for an emergency, he would press a button and a support force would come to him. He pressed the button, and it signaled some of his soldiers downstairs who rushed up to his aid. Simba had no idea what he was doing but was starting to see that he was regaining his confidence. "I'd really hate to be responsible for the death of a family member...wouldn't you agree Simba?" Scar sneered, hinting at Simba's dark secret. "That's not going to work Scar, I've put that behind me." Simba said firmly. Scar turned his head towards Simba's team. "What about your comrades here, have they put it behind them? And you Nala...I wouldn't suppose he told you either." Scar said. "Simba, what the hell is he talking about?" Nala asked, suspicious.

"So you haven't told them your little secret...well now's your chance to tell them...to tell them who was responsible for Mufasa's death!" Scar said in a increasingly loud voice. Nala looked at Simba with wide open eyes. No...that can't be true! It's not like him. Nala tried to reassure herself. Simba looked at his squad who had all turned their attention to him, shocked by Scar's remarks. Simba realized EJ's camera was still on, recording the whole thing.

There was no point lying now. "I am." Simba sighed. He felt as though he'd just put a bullet through his own head and told his team to pack their things and go home, what he'd just told them was simply that they might as well live and suffer under Scar rather than fight for a murder that had been the real reason the country had been left to him in the first place. Sarabi got up off the ground and looked into her son's eyes. "It's not true...Tell me it's not true!" She said in disbelief. "It's true...I'm sorry." Simba confirmed. An evil smile swept across Scar's face. "You see? He admits it! Murderer..." Scar growled. "No it was an accident!" Simba said desperately. "If it weren't for you Mufasa would still be alive...Do you deny it?" Scar asked, already knowing the answer. "No but.." Simba felt fear growing inside of him. "Then you're guilty!" Scar cut him off. "No I'm not a murderer..." Simba started again but was cut off a group of Scar's soldiers bursting through the door to the foyer. They caught Simba's team by surprise and demanded that they drop their weapons and get on the floor. Simba's squad, including Nala, all followed the order and dropped to their knees with their hands up with no hesitation. They didn't try to fight, because that would achieve them nothing. Scar knocked Simba's gun out of his hands.

Simba was on his own now, and Scar knew it. Scar drew his Desert Eagle pistol and walked over to the squad. He yanked a radio out of EJ's pocket and switched it on. "Do you hear this?" Scar said wickedly.

"Overlord this is Bravo six, we are taking heavy fire and need evac NOW! Do you read me? We are being overrun and need...*BANG BANG BANG*...AAARRGGH!"

"That is the sound of your puny renegade army getting destroyed, did you really think you had a chance Simba?" Scar started, he had the gun pointed at Simba was slowly moving him towards the edge of the balcony. "You're in trouble again, and this time your old man's not here to save to save you...AND NOW EVERYONE KNOWS WHY!" Scar thundered and pushed him over the balcony's edge. Simba grabbed onto the railing before he plummeted to his death. Scar peered over the edge and saw him dangling there, helpless. Scar aimed his pistol and cocked it.

Cla-Chik...

Downtown Prideland City, Same time.

Weaver sat behind the burning truck, furiously reloading his rifle. From what he'd heard on the radio Squad Bravo Six had been completely wiped out, and most of the PRF was retreating from the military might of Scar. His platoon was pinned in the city square, taking a huge amount of enemy fire, he picked up the radio and shouted out above the noise of the battle. "Overlord this is Weaver, we are being overrun and need evac NOW!" He screamed. "We read you loud and clear, evac is five minutes out, Overlord out." The PRF command said on the radio. We'll be dead in five minutes. Weaver thought and picked up the radio again. "Five minutes ain't good enough, we have serious casualties and they need to be out of here RIGHT NOW!" He said again, but this time there was no response. Great, now we have to try and hold out here for five fucking minutes. Weaver knew that there was a very slim chance that his men could last that long, Scar's manpower was starting to show now, for every man Weaver shot, three more would take his place.

"They coming?" One of his soldiers asked anxiously. Weaver gestured for what was left of his platoon to come together. "Extraction ain't gonna be here for five minutes, so we need to hold out until then, I can't guarantee that everyone is going to live through this, so I'm going to say it now...It's been an honor fighting with you gentlemen. Now let's show these communist assholes what we're made of!" His men cheered and got ready for a serious firefight.

His machine gunner leapt out of his cover and fired a long burst at the incoming wave of Scar's forces. Weaver used the suppressing fire and sprung into the open, firing at anything that moved. He unpinned a grenade and lobbed it into the window of a building that was crawling with enemy soldiers. The window exploded and mixture of blood, debris, and brick was thrown in the area around it. He then reached for his M16 and fired several rounds at the shocked force. All of his bullets met their targets and the sudden aggressive move had surprised Scar's men; for the first time in an hour, they found themselves retreating. All of Weaver's men were in the middle of the open shooting their opponents as they ran.

Suddenly, a communist with a RPG (rocket propelled grenade) appeared from around the corner and pointed the shoulder-mounted weapon in their direction. "Oh shit...RPG EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

Everyone dived for cover but it was too late, the rocket flew towards them and exploded, sending everyone flying. When Weaver came to his senses he had realized he'd been dragged away from the open and to safety. He got up and looked around, in the middle of the road two of his men lay dead, and one was lying in a pool of blood, with his legs completely torn off by the blast. "H-help me!" The soldier pleaded, blood poured from his mouth as he spoke, but as soon as he was finished a bullet struck him in the neck and put him out of his misery.

Weaver looked down the road and saw Scar's army advancing yet again. His machine gunner was the only thing stopping them from swooping in and finishing them then and there. The man with the RPG raised his weapon again. This time Weaver shot him before he could deliver the deadly missile, and each time a man tried to get it, Weaver's bullets cut them down. He aimed for kills only, and not for suppression. He looked at his watch and saw the time; five minutes had passed. Come on and get here already. Weaver thought. Eventually he heard the relieving sound of rotors above him. Finally. He thought. But his relief was short lived, from around the corner one of Scar's tanks appeared and aimed it's main gun towards them. "MOVE NOW!" Weaver yelled and everyone scrambled away from their original hiding spot. The tank fired and the shell slammed into the wall, sending dirt and debris everywhere. The shockwave of the blast knocked Weaver off his feet and his ears rang inside his head.

The helicopter slowly started to descend in the middle of City Square, unaware of the tank not too far away. Weaver saw the tank aim its turret at the chopper, preparing to fire the deadly shot. Weaver frantically waved his arms at the chopper, trying to signal it away, but it was too late. The tank fired its giant cannon and the shell smashed into the chopper's side, sending it spinning into the ground.

There goes our Evac, Weaver thought and rushed over to the burning remains of the helicopter. He stepped into the wreckage and saw that the pilot and co pilot were dead, however there was a moaning coming from the other side of the wreck. Weaver clambered through the twisted metal and found a gravely injured side gunner lying on the ground. He feebly reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a blood stained envelope. "I-it's for my wife...give it to her and t-tell her that I..." The man stuttered. Weaver shoved the envelope back into his pocket and told him: "You're gonna give it to her yourself...C'mon soldier...we haven't lost yet." as he threw him over his shoulder. "AH! My back..." The man cried. "C'mon you gotta shake it off if you want get through this!" Weaver said through clenched teeth.

Weaver pulled out his M1911 sidearm and prepared for one final stand, he tossed his rifle to the wounded gunner. Scar's men swarmed in from all directions, and Weaver frantically shot at them, keeping them away. The two of them bravely held out against the massively superior communist army for several minutes, until they finally started to get overrun. "I'm out!" The gunner cried. Weaver reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his final rifle magazine. "Last mag... Make it count!" He shouted above the gunshots. The gunner nodded and continued firing at the horde of enemies closing in, he eventually fired the last of his thirty rounds and sighed. He then placed the rifle neatly on his lap, as if accepting defeat. Weaver continued shooting furiously at the enemy army closing in until a bullet struck him in the arm. "ARGH!" He cried out and collapsed down on the dirt. Can't give up...I'm still only 22; I'm too young to die. He sat up and fired several feeble shots at the tank rolling closer and closer to the remains of the helicopter. As he shot he wondered, if Simba had succeeded in getting Scar, if Nala's baby was okay, if he was going to die for a reason and most importantly, if he had been a good man. The world moved in slow motion for him, and due to the pain his reaction time became slower and slower. He failed to notice the infantryman with an AK-47 to his right, and the soldier fired a deadly burst at him.

Three bullets caught Weaver in the chest, and he slumped back down onto the ground, floating in and out of consciousness. He looked one last time at the tank rolling towards him and felt life starting to slip away. Weaver's final thought on earth before he died right there was: I was a good man, without a doubt. I'm dying a hero.

Chapter 23: Revelation

Simba dangled from the balcony, with Scar above him pointing the huge handgun in his direction. "Now this looks familiar...where have I seen this before? Oh yes now I remember...this is just the way your father looked before he died." Scar sneered and grabbed his wrist, so he could pull him closer. "Now here's my little secret..." Scar started and whispered in Simba's ear.

"I killed Mufasa!" Scar revealed to him.

Images of that terrible day in 2006 suddenly flashed back through Simba's mind. He remembered his father falling while he screamed; the pillar was obscuring something above him; or someone. He remembered crawling up next to his limp body, how his face was all bloody, particularly his forehead...A bullet wound. He remembered how Scar had left him on the freeway, and then strangely reappeared as soon as he found Mufasa dead. It all fit now, Scar was a lying, selfish murderer. Simba's rage suddenly took over him, a new strength took control and he launched himself back onto the balcony before Scar could even pull the trigger.

He knocked Scar over in the process and snatched his handgun out of his hands. Before Scar even knew what had happened he was on the floor, with a gun pressed up against his throat. "YOU FUCKIN' MURDERER! TELL THEM THE TRUTH!" Simba roared, pressing the weapon even harder against his neck. "Well, you see...the truth isn't exactly..." Scar started but Simba pushed the gun's barrel so hard against his neck that it blocked his windpipe. Scar started to choke before he finally gave in. "Alright...alright...I did it." Scar admitted. "So we can hear you!" Simba growled. "Fine...I KILLED MUFASA!"

Everyone in the room leapt back in surprise, including Scar's men. The squad's despair turned into anger, and a renewed will to fight. The door to the foyer suddenly swung open, and Timon and Pumbaa appeared. "Okay commies, get ready for an ass kickin'!" Pumbaa exclaimed and opened fire with his machine gun. He cut down a large portion of the soldiers in the room but a few managed to get to cover, including: Shenzi, Banzai and Ed. Simba's team used the distraction to gather their weapons and start shooting at their enemies. Simba's head was also turned, and that gave Scar the time to punch him in the jaw, while Simba was recovering from the blow Scar pushed his body off him and scrambled away.

Prideland City Square, Helicopter Crash Site, Same Time.

Corporal Joe Dyson sat behind some wreckage with a M16 folded on his lap. He was out of ammo and about to be killed, he could even hear the screams of Scar's army getting closer and closer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture of his wife and daughters. I'll miss you my girls...just remember that your daddy's a hero. He thought and tears started to appear in the corners of his eyes. He sighed and saw that Weaver, his rescuer, has just been killed. He peered over the top of the wreckage and saw a communist infantryman charging towards him, screaming. The solider swung his rifle at him and the stock smashed into his jaw, knocking him senseless. Dyson opened his eyes and saw the three of Scar's soldiers standing over him; he then looked over to his left and saw more of them executing the remnants of Weaver's platoon, one by one. One of the men standing over him produced a pistol and pointed it at his forehead. This is it...I love you Samantha...kids. He closed his eyes again and waited for the gunshot.

Suddenly a burst of gunfire came from nowhere and cut down the three standing over him. What? Dyson thought and sat up, he reached for his would-be executioner's handgun and prepared himself for the new threat. He looked over and saw Scar's tank explode into a ball of fire, he looked around for the cause of the blast. He heard the sound of jets above him, and he looked skyward and saw four German Eurofighter planes picking off Scar's forces from the sky. NATO, they're finally here. Dyson exhaled in relief and threw the pistol away from him. NATO ground forces then started pouring onto the scene, driving Scar's army back. An entire coalition force had arrived, American Black Hawk helicopters circled overhead and entire convoys of armed Humvees started charging down the streets, blasting their way through Scar's forces which were puny and primitive in comparison to theirs.

A NATO soldier hurried up to Dyson. "Hey guys! I found a survivor!" He shouted with a heavy German accent. "Get the medic...this one's hurt real bad." He added and began inspecting Dyson. "Are you okay?" The soldier asked. Dyson could only muster up the strength to nod. "Shit, what happened to you?" The medic said, this man was American. "Chopper...crash...overrun..." Were the only words Dyson could manage to say. The medic got to work on him and started to patch him up. Dyson looked around him, the NATO soldiers were rounding up the dead, and two of them were about to pick up Weaver's limp body. "NO!" Dyson grunted and crawled over to Weaver's body. "Uh, that's not a good idea...you have a serious back injury..." The medic said but Dyson ignored him. Dyson stopped in front of the dead body and looked it over...this was the man that had saved his life...thanks to him he could see his family again, and he had given his life. Dyson tore off his dog tags and read them. The man's name was Matthew Weaver, and he had died at twenty-two years of age, for him. "Thank you..." Dyson muttered to Weaver's body and put his head down on his bloody chest. It was then that Dyson did something very unusual for a man at thirty-six years of age, something that he had not done throughout the entire course of the war.

He began to cry...

Chapter 24: Get Scar/Hakuna Matata Motherfucker

The foyer to Scar's office had been turned into an indoor battlefield, Scar's guards and Simba's squad exchanged fire and hid behind anything they could, pot plants, desks, cabinets and other large solid objects. Simba crouched behind an overturned desk and readied the Desert Eagle pistol he had taken from Scar, he then leapt out of his cover and fired a solitary shot at a cabinet one of Scar's men was taking cover behind. The shot slammed into the cabinet, and to his surprise, went straight through and killed the man behind it. Simba looked at the pistol, impressed. Not bad, this thing is actually pretty powerful. He continued to fire furiously at his stunned opponents until his radio interrupted him. "Just a heads up, NATO has arrived, they are pushing towards the palace and are headed your way, Overlord out." The PRF command said on the radio. So that's why none of their reinforcements have come, well good luck trying to stop NATO. Simba thought happily, he could now guarantee that everyone (excluding himself) had a chance of making it out of this alive and victorious.

Just as Simba was reloading his gun, Scar darted across in the middle of the open and safely made his way to the corridor. Oh no you don't, your not escaping me you sick bastard. Simba's relief from the radio call turned into rage and he prepared to follow Scar. He turned to Swifty, his machine gunner. "I NEED YOU TO GIVE ME SOME COVERING FIRE NOW!" He shouted above the noise of the firefight and jumped out into the open. Swifty jumped out too, and fired a long burst from his M60, keeping Scar's troops pinned behind their cover. Simba wasted no time and charged down the corridor after Scar. As soon as Simba was safe, Swifty stopped firing and unpinned a grenade. He lobbed it behind the guards and within seconds, the explosion killed the majority of them. The few survivors either raised their hands in defeat or retreated. "HA! The bastards are running, C'mon guys lets finish this." Nala remarked and started to round up the few prisoners.

Meanwhile, Simba charged down the corridor, in pursuit of his evil uncle. He eventually caught sight of Scar, about to climb up the hatch that led to the roof of the palace. Scar turned around just in time and gasped when he saw an infuriated Simba running down the hall after him. He slammed the door to hatch shut and locked it, so that Simba couldn't follow him up. It was no more than two seconds after he closed the door that he heard Simba's furious pounding on it, trying to bust it open. Scar didn't waste any time tormenting him and climbed up the ladder as quick as he could.

"AH!" Simba shouted in rage, and then he remembered: If Scar's Desert Eagle could shoot through a cabinet, it could easily shoot through a door lock. Simba lined up the gun and fired, and sure enough the shot smashed straight through the lock, sending the door swinging open. Simba climbed straight up the ladder and onto the roof.'

Scar's jog turned into a flat out sprint as he got onto the roof, his evacuation helicopter sat on it's pad only fifty meters away. The small helicopters rotors buzzed, ready to take off. The pilot stuck his arm out of the side and motioned for him to hurry up. Suddenly, Scar heard the hatch swing open behind him and sure enough, Simba emerged from it. Scar ran even faster and tried not to look back. Simba started after him, but it was no use trying to catch him, Scar had too much of a head start. Simba chased as the helicopter started to lift off, with Scar safely inside. Simba started to slow down; realising there was no point going after him. He could radio for NATO to send a fighter plane to shoot them down, but by the time they got there Scar would be long gone. Can't let him get away! Simba thought and pulled out a hand grenade. He unpinned it and charged towards the helicopter. Hopefully his idea would work, it was his only hope of getting Scar. I need to time this right...three...two...one...NOW!

Simba held the grenade in his hand for a moment before throwing it, the timing of the blast had to be perfect otherwise he would have failed. He pelted it at the tail rotor of the helicopter, praying it would blow at the right time. Come on...BLOW NOW...PLEASE! Simba thought. The deadly bomb floated in the air for a second before exploding right next to the tail rotor, sending the chopper spinning out of control. YES!

The helicopter's tail had been blown clean off, and now it plummeted towards the thick roof. It spun towards Simba but he ducked it just in time, the fuselage skimmed the top of his head as he dropped. The chopper whirled around before finally smashing into the roof. It did not explode but fuel started to leak out of the side, and started to catch fire. Simba got to his feet and rushed over to the wreckage. Simba trudged through the mess and heard a moaning coming from the other side of the wreck. The gravely injured pilot was trying to pull himself away from the mangled heap of metal but Simba stopped him. Simba looked into his eyes, and saw the same evil he saw in Scar, he raised his gun and shot him. Simba continued to scan the wreck looking for Scar, but he was nowhere to be seen.

He finally caught sight of some movement behind the smoke. Simba charged through the flames, he couldn't even feel the burning pain due to his anger powering him. Scar stood at the edge of the roof, trapped. Simba pulled back the hammer on the Desert Eagle and approached Scar. "Murderer..." He snarled. Scar became deliriously desperate and pleaded with him. "No Simba...I...am...family!" He cried and looked over the edge of roof, it was a 135-meter drop to the Memorial park below. "You don't deserve to live..." Simba said darkly. "You don't understand...Simba, it was the East Side citizens that are the real enemy...it was their idea and I was pressured into doing it!" Scar lied desperately; unaware that he had left his radio on, and downstairs Shenzi, Banzai and Ed had heard the whole thing.

Downstairs, Memorial Park.

Shenzi, Banzai and Ed had been furiously holding off NATO until they heard Scar and Simba's conversation several stories above. "Why that lying, no good..." Shenzi started, outraged. "Motherfucker." Ed finished her sentence, equally angry. The three felt betrayed and started to realise how Scar had used them the whole time.

Back upstairs on the roof.

"Why should I believe you? Everything you ever told me was a lie." Simba growled. Scar looked into his eyes, terrified. "What are you going to do? Surely you wouldn't kill your own uncle." Scar pleaded. "No Scar, I'm not like you." Simba said. Scar exhaled in relief and put a hand on his forehead. "Run...run away and never return." Simba said, repeating the same words Scar had said to him years ago. Scar started to slink away, defeated. "Yes...your MAJESTY!" Just as Scar said the word 'majesty' he picked up a handful of dirt and flung it into Simba's eyes. Simba winced in pain and dropped the gun. Scar then used Simba's blindness against him and attacked, he Simba by the throat and tried to force him off the edge of the roof, but Simba recovered and fought back. The original confrontation had turned into an aggressive fistfight.

Every punch and every block seemed to go in slow motion for Simba, he had turned into an experienced fighter. Simba finally gained the upper hand and caught Scar in the jaw with a right hook. Scar collapsed to the floor, faking injury. Simba looked over at him and Scar surprised him, he jumped off the floor and grabbed Simba by the neck again, trying to drag him towards the edge again, but Simba was stronger and stopped him right on the edge. He then turned himself around so that Scar was facing the edge, but because Scar had a hold of him, he couldn't force him over otherwise he'd fall too. "I knew you didn't have it in you Simba!" Scar taunted him.

Simba struggled against Scar and then he noticed it. The Desert Eagle handgun was still where he dropped it. Scar when will you ever learn that it's a bad idea to give me guns. He stretched a foot out and flicked up into his hands. He tried to get a shot at Scar, but the way he was holding him from behind made it impossible. An idea then popped into his head, but it wasn't going to be pretty for him. "Think I don't have it in me to kill you...think again. Hakuna...Matata...mother...fucker." Simba said through clenched teeth and pressed the gun against his own chest. Scar's eyes opened wide with terror, realizing what he was doing. Simba pulled the trigger, and the shot ripped through his body, and then into Scar's. The bullet knocked Scar off the edge of the building and he plummeted to a certain death.

Simba looked over the edge watched him scream as he fell. Simba sighed and collapsed onto the floor, panting. The adrenaline started to leave him and his wound started to hurt. It felt like someone had held a knife to his chest then driven it in with a sledgehammer. Simba panted for air and started to limp his way downstairs, the pain growing with each step he took. Blood poured down his shirt and he pressed a hand against the wound trying to stop the bleeding but it was no use.

He finally caught up with his squad on the lobby, fighting with the remnants of Scar's army. With each step he took, his vision blurred and he felt life grow fainter and fainter. Nala noticed him hobbling over and her jaw dropped. Simba took one last look at her and felt his legs give way beneath him. "GET A MEDIC OVER HERE NOW!" Nala screamed and hurried over to him. Please don't die, I love you. She thought. Simba started to feel life slip away from him as he bled out on the ground. The medic got to work on Simba but gave up and folded his bloody hands on his helmet. Nala looked at him in fear, the medic just looked at her sadly and shook his head sadly. "No...YOU HAVE TO SAVE HIM YOU HEAR ME!" She cried at the medic. "I don't think I can...I'm sorry." The medic said to her. Nala turned her attention to Simba and shook him. "You have to stay with me!" She cried. Simba managed a weak smile and put a hand on her cheek. "I-I'm sorry Nala...p-promise me you'll be a good queen, rule well baby I l-love you." Simba muttered. "No, you're gonna rule yourself! Simba listen to me...you're gonna be a daddy...you can't leave me!" Nala said and placed Simba's hand on her belly. Nala felt the tears sting her eyes when Simba's eyes closed. "NO!" She cried and tears poured down her face. His pulse had stopped.

Epilogue: Another Circle Complete

Simba forced his eyes open and looked at a sobbing Nala, who knelt next to him. He couldn't believe she was pregnant. "Really? t-that's wonderful..." Simba muttered as he started to die. His trembling hand fell off her belly and collapsed onto the floor, his head also slumped back, he no longer had the energy to tilt it forward. He blinked a few times, and thought: At least the Pridelands can live in freedom.

His eyes shut and his breathing stopped. "NO! You can't leave me...Please Simba!...I love you." Nala cried out and tears streamed down her cheeks. She dropped down and embraced his lifeless body, like she did at that night in Timon's garden. She hugged onto him and sobbed, until another medic put a hand on her shoulder. "You need to get off now." He said calmly and tried to pull her away. "NO!" Nala snapped and grabbed onto him again, but two NATO soldiers forced her off and restrained her. Nala screamed in anguish and hopelessly tried to return to Simba, but couldn't due to the two powerful French soldiers holding her back. Another medic approached Simba with a defibrillator and turned it on, hoping they could revive him. They pressed it up against his chest and the machine whined...then FWUMP!

Simba's body lurched upwards, but he was not affected. The medic team tried again and again before giving up. One picked up the radio and spoke. "Overlord...we have to report that Kingfish is...down." The radio operator paused for a second. "What's his status?" The PRF command asked. "K.I.A" (killed in action) The operator said solemnly. The response was met with gasps everywhere, from soldiers listening in on the radio elsewhere, Woods' command room and all those around the scene. Nala started to calm down and looked at Simba's limp body. Nala wondered what the hell she would say when her child asked about its father.

"Mom?"

"Yes Kiara?"

"What happened to daddy...where's my daddy?"

Nala pauses and starts to tear up.

"Sweetie...your father was a hero. He died so we could all live in peace."

Kiara starts to cry and Nala puts her on her lap.

"It'll be okay, he'll always be here for us...always."

Simba awoke in a fright, the pain had suddenly disappeared and he was now standing up in the middle of a strange environment. Clouds rolled next to him, and he heard the faint howling of wind, but felt none of it. He looked around, the area was dimly lit and he seemed to be walking on nothing. Where am I? Am I dead? He thought, the last thing he remembered was lying down next to Nala, he was bleeding out when suddenly everything went black, now he was here. "Son..." A familiar deep voice said.

"Dad?" Simba turned around and saw a shadow walking towards him through the clouds. The figure emerged from the clouds and Simba looked into the eyes of none other than the great King Mufasa. The two rushed towards each other and embraced for a moment before Mufasa pulled away. "What happened...did I die?" Simba asked. "Technically yes, however..." Mufasa started and Simba raised an eyebrow. "Your job on Earth is not complete. You are still needed as a leader, husband...and father." Mufasa said deeply. "You have fought courageously today, with virtues of a leader. The title of King is not taken; it is earned. I am very proud to call you my son." Mufasa said and kissed Simba on the forehead and his image started to fade away. "Remember..." Simba heard his father say before the clouds started to roll away. The whole setting started to fade and Simba awoke.

Simba woke on a hard cold surface with a blanket pulled over his face, and the burning pain from the bullet wound in his chest had gone. He yanked the blanket off his face and sat up straight. He looked around, his squad sat down around the room, with solemn expressions on their faces. He turned his head and saw NATO soldiers rounding up prisoners of the conflict and talking on the radio. Nala sat in the corner of the room, with tear marks on her face and bloodshot eyes. Simba stood up, walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder, soldiers gasped as he walked. She turned around and when her eyes met his, a joy swept over her that words could not describe. She didn't even manage to say the words: You're alive! Before she leapt to her feet and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him long and hard.

She pulled away and started to cry to tears of joy. "You're alive..." She finally said. "Yeah, I thought you of all people would know to never rule me out...a certain someone said I could stay a little longer." Simba replied. "And now that reminds me...now that you're pregnant..." Simba started as he dropped to one knee. "Nala you know I love you, and I know you love me too, so I'm going to do something I should have done before I got myself 'killed'." Simba said and pulled out the pin to the grenade that he had used to take down Scar's helicopter, he held it up like a ring. "Nala...will you marry me?" Simba proposed, he had just found his queen. Nala didn't hesitate and shoved her finger through the ring/grenade pin. "Yes...of course it's a yes!" She said and kissed him again. They didn't notice all of their soldiers watching them from behind.

They started cheering and whistling. "WAY TO GO SIMBA!" EJ yelled out, making everyone laugh. Simba and Nala blushed a little. Simba walked away from Nala and made his way to the elevator, he still had one more thing left to do. He reached the famed 38th floor and stepped out onto the balcony. He slashed the rope to the communist flag with his knife and it slid down. He then raised Scar's Desert Eagle pistol into the air and fired a solitary shot. A shot to symbolize the end of a terrible era, and the dawn of new bright one. A shot to symbolize victory, a mixture of NATO and PRF troops marched in the memorial park below and cheered when they saw him, firing bursts of gunfire in the air and yelling out in joy. Simba then left the balcony and went inside to celebrate with his squad. It was that day on the 11th of October 2015 that the Pridelands were liberated from the terror of Scar, and it would forever be celebrated throughout the country's history.

Simba's story was told on news headlines around the world, he became an inspiration for people all over the globe and became a hit in popular culture. He was named number six in New York Times' 100 most influential people of the decade. A famous English author also wrote a book about his experiences called: Simba: The King has returned. 2006-15. Steven Spielberg also made a hit war movie about his story called: To Retake a Nation. (Of which the main character was Sergeant Matthew Weaver, who was honored for his sacrifice in the film's credits.)

9 Months Later, 2016

Simba looked out from the balcony, hundreds of thousands of people stood in the memorial park, waving Prideland National flags and taking pictures. Nala stood next to him, waving at the crowd. The country was now prosperous again, and considered by many to be an economic superpower. He had managed to rebuild all that Scar and the war had destroyed, and even clean up East Side. He had done all of that in nine months, a feat his father would probably not have been able to achieve. Simba noticed that the TV cameras were all pointing at him and Nala, so he gave Nala a little kiss on the cheek, making the crowd go wild. That was the main difference between him and his father's style of rule. Simba was a much more casual, fun loving character, and it had a lot to do with the way Timon and Pumbaa raised him. Rafiki then appeared behind him, carrying his new baby girl. He had shown great responsibility in taking back the country and rebuilding it, but he now had an even greater responsibility: Fatherhood

Rafiki looked at Simba and he nodded. Rafiki thrust the baby high into the air, and the TV cameras focused in on her. The crowd then burst into cheers like it had done twenty-one years ago. Another circle of life was complete.

11th of October 2015, I am here to say that the Pridelands are free, no longer will its citizens live in fear, no longer will they be worked like slaves. They will live in freedom, now and for the rest of eternity. I am here to say to all those that have fled, you are now welcome home to a friendly country now. I am here to say that all the damage that has been done will be solved, sooner or later. I would like to honor all the brave men and women that gave their lives on this day, and that they rest in peace, for we will remember them. Unlike the country's previous leader, I am here to respect the balance of the country and acknowledge the great circle of life in which it exists, may the great leaders of the past look down on us, and guide us to a brighter future.

My name is King Simba, I am here, and I am waiting, waiting for you.

The End