by L. M. Vila
“No, what I did to that traitor General is insane. The fact that I can walk again after one of your cowardly military drones bombed my unit and destroyed my legs is insane.”
He leaned in close and the warmth of his breath caressed the increasingly nervous President's face.
“The very idea that I broke through your security, cut you off form every viable means of escape, and now hold you, the most powerful man in the world hostage is insane.”
The soldier pulled back and folded his arms across his chest.
“Given everything you've seen and experienced with your own eyes, asking you to surrender is the most reasonable thing that's happened to you in the last fifteen minutes.”
He watched the President sulk back into that hideously depressing shell of his. There was no denying the situation he laid in. Bahn completely outclassed any army at their disposal. The only remedy they may have is to nuke the city as they have been so fond of doing in times of war. However, that's where North Korea had the upper hand. There is no way they were going to sacrifice the President and every major leader in the country by dropping a nuclear weapon. That is what made this operation all the more important. Even cockroaches eventually die when their heads are cut off.
The clock kept ticking but Bahn did not want to show his impatience. According to his calculations, sirens should be blaring and chaos raining from the skies. The fact that it was quiet was a bit unnerving but no matter. Even without their army of enhanced soldiers, Bahn still held the ultimate prize within his grasp.
“All finished sir!” One reported back.
Bahn took a glance at their work. They had piled up most of the office furniture in the north wall completely blocking access to the mansion. These men may have looked professional enough on the outside but they were still soldiers through and through. One small dosage is all it took to turn them into indestructible killing machines.
“Good,” he nodded. “Have your men posted along the hallway. Kill anything that breaks through. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir!” They all said with a resounding grunt.
As long as no one could get in, they had all the time they needed. Even if they were ousted, America wouldn't risk any operation to retake their leader back if it could cost him his life. And it would indeed. Bahn couldn't wait until all eyes were on him and when this broken visage of a man fell to his knees and surrendered this land to him, he would take his head clean off for all the world to see.
America will die and from the ashes of its charred remains will rise the glorious nation of New Korea. Nothing could top that. History was being written as they stood and the whole world would bear witness to it.
Meryl inched herself closer to the weapon. She timed her movements perfectly. Any and all distractions were in her favor and she exploited every one she got.
After hearing that maniac's plan for this country there was no way Meryl was going to lay down and let it happen. Even if they took her life right here and now it would be worth it just to deny them that pleasure. Meryl had no plans on dying but she wasn't going to go down without a fight either.
The man turned away. Meryl took another inch towards her gun. It was almost within her reach. She paced her breaths and silenced the pain with the rush of adrenaline flowing through her nerves. The short fibers of the carpet scorched against her skin as she gently approached the goal. Her fingers began to tremble as her arm extended out. Slowly her hand slithered on the ground gaining inch after inch. The revolver was a right at the tip of her fingers.
“SAY IT!” The Korean yelled followed by a mammoth crash.
Wood chips and splinters began to rain down all over the vicinity and a few chunks of debris fell on top of the fallen FBI agent. Meryl pulled her arm back quickly and tucked it back underneath her chest. She peaked one eye out to survey the damage.
The President had been forcibly shoved into his desk. It was nearly split in two. George looked much better than his furniture did at the moment but the velocity he had been traveling at must have rattled a few internal organs for he remained silent save for a few coughs and winces.
“You will surrender old man,” cursed Bahn as he approached his victim.
He slammed his hands on the chair’s armrests and pressed his forehead against the President’s.
“Say it!” He spat.
Tiny drops of saliva fell from his maw and he grew increasingly frustrated with his victim’s resistance.
“I’ll never surrender,” the President wheezed.
His lungs must have taken a beating with that last hit because he didn’t sound like a man he once was just a few short minutes ago.
“You think this country will give in because of the words that come out of my mouth?”
The President shook his head.
“They’re stronger than that,” he looked up at Bahn, “And stronger than you.”
A fist smashed into President Marshall’s abdomen. The walls of the office shook with the force of the blow. Even the ground felt like it had quaked under Meryl’s body. The President appeared to be choking on his own spit as he let out horrifyingly sharp coughs. Bahn then picked up the chair that his victim sat in and hurled it across the room. The fine piece of furniture than President Marshal treasured shattered across the ground sending giant chunks of its former self spewing all over his office.
“No one is stronger than me!” Countered Bahn.
His growing rage did not bode well for the sanity of the remaining living members of this meeting.
With his back turned, Meryl poised to strike. She reached over and snatched the revolver in one swift move and clasped the weapon straight to her chest hidden from all view. Bahn continued frustration proved to be the perfect distraction. The FBI agent slowly rolled over and slid her knees forward underneath her body. She would only have one shot at making this work.
“Stand up!” Ordered the soldier as kicked his victim square in the back.
The request would be proven even more difficult given that the President’s hands were tied behind his back. “When I’m done with you, you’ll beg me to surrender.”
“Go to hell,” the President scoffed.
He was sounding more authoritative by the second. Even with his life in danger, he did not bend, break or falter.
“Even if your crazy scheme did succeed, we’re all dead anyways. But if my defiance here and now will cause you continued pain for the rest of your miserable life then my death will be worth it.”
“You won’t have to wait too long for –”
Three shots rang out in quick succession. Bahn’s words were silenced as he began to slowly stumble and turn around to find the source of his excruciating pain.
Meryl had pumped everything she had into them and hit her target right where she wanted. She couldn’t have asked for a better grouping. Smoke still waved off the tip of her barrel. The target was still locked on her sights. She waited for him to face him to get the one shot she needed to end this.
“How could you –”
Another bullet rocketed from her chamber piercing Bahn’s throat. He collapsed to the ground in a heap as blood began to pool and mix with the other deceased Korean’s laying only a few short inches away.
Meryl’s hand’s continued to shake as she surveyed the scene. One had gone down but there were still five left all drugged out on that drug that Bahn had originally ingested. There weren’t enough bullets for the rest of them unless the FBI agent was going to form a quick suicide pack with the President of the United States. It would sure beat out any deaths these guys would offer. However, they did not move or approach which send a chill running up Meryl’s spine. Either they were waiting for orders or something else was about to show up that superseded their authority. Something much worse.
Laughing leisurely filled the room. Quiet at first but soon grew to be loud and boisterous. Meryl had taken her eyes off the prize for one second while keeping tabs on the other five soldiers. Bahn stood to his feet
and began shaking off the excess debris. His white shirt was soaked in blood which the ripped off in the blink of an eye. The most horrifying feature was the chunk of his neck that had once been missing was slowly starting to bind the fragmented fibers together and completely repair itself.
“Is that all you’ve got?” The soldier jeered.
In his hands he carried one of the crutches he previously required to walk around with. He twisted the metal tubing towards the center and the pipe dropped revealing a long and razor sharp blade. Bahn affixed the weapon to his forearm locking it securely in place and began dragging the blade across the carpet. The menace was thick in the air as he stalked his prey with slow methodical steps.
“As you can see,” Bahn snickered, “surrendering is the only option you have left.”
Meryl lifted the gun once more and placed the sights right between the bastard’s eyes. She wasn’t going to miss the crucial shot this time.
Before she could blink, Bahn seemingly teleported and grabbed her by the throat. His fingers drilled into the delicate tissues of her neck and started to draw blood. She winced and yelped pleading for release or even just an end to the pain but found neither. Bahn lifted her off the ground and held her there. He didn’t want this defiant woman to pass out like the other. He wanted her to suffer as long as possible for this insolence. Perhaps it would take one more death to convince the President that his choices were few and far between.
Meryl was out of options. As the air stopped flowing into her lungs, her mind had to work quickly to formulate the best possible ending to this scenario. There was only one thing left she could do. It would be her ultimate sacrifice. Her leg shot up and slammed the bastard square in his crotch. He must still have sensitive spots because he dropped the FBI agent immediately. Meryl landed and fell to her knees. With her gun still firmly in her grasp, she spun it back and released the final two rounds praying they hit their intended target.
March 27th, 2013 1:19PM
FBI Local Field Office
Las Vegas, NV
Adrian paced around the walls of the conference room with a phone glued to his cheek. He had been trying to get through to anybody that would listen and warn them of the potential threat approaching. It was like he was being personally ignored. Either they were too busy to deal with his call or the Secret Service just didn’t care.
Fists slammed against the table. Every second was precious and he couldn’t waste any of them on hold. Lives were at stake, maybe the most important one in this country and here he stood waiting for the privilege to speak with someone.
The phone grew silent and suddenly there was a click.
“Go for Agent Rand.”
“Agent Rand?!” Adrian stated almost as if he were familiar with the name and man who held it. “Listen to me very carefully. I am Special Agent in Charge Adrian Fischer with the FBI. This is a code Omega, priority Alpha 671-T alert. King Salmon has been compromised. Repeat, Salmon has been compromised. Abort the mission!”
“Repeat,” the voice cracked.
Static could be heard throughout the other end of the earpiece which only added to the S.A.C.’s frustrations.
“Damn it!” Cursed Adrian. “Do you hear me?! The President has been –”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Shouted the other end of the line.
He could hear a mass of cluttering going on and suddenly frantic voices began to shout off instructions. None of them sounded pleasant. Adrian knew he was already too late.
March 27th, 2013 4:19PM
20th St NW
Washington, D.C.
“What’s going on? What’s the status?” The Director shouted.
“We’ve got confirmation of activity in the Oval Office sir,” Agent Yuan replied. “Local P.D.’s are reporting seeing two gun shots exit the south window.”
The information slammed into Director Miller’s face like a freight train and nearly knocked him off his feet. In his many years sitting in the Director’s chair, he’s had to prepare for hundreds upon hundreds of different scenarios for each and every operation. Not one of which ever covered something like that.
“Can we get in communication with the Secret Service and figure out what the fuck is going on?!”
“Negative,” Shelly replied. “It appears they are scrambling themselves and aren’t accepting any form of outside communication.”
This was just perfect. The only thing that could have made this better was a satellite falling from orbit taking down their communications permanently.
“Are you still in contact? Can you make out anything you hear?” The Director asked trying his hardest not to sound like he was pleading for answers.
“I’m getting a lot of friction but word from our eyes outside is that the Secret Service appear to be mobilizing towards the back door.”
“Mobilizing?” The Director pondered.
Standard operating procedure told him that if all of their available agents were scrambling towards an area it’s because something unpleasant was approaching.
“Yes sir,” Agent Yuan replied. “It appears local P.D.s on site are also responding and reporting in strange activity from outside the perimeter.”
This was starting to sound like a bad dream. Whatever was going on out there, they clearly had the upper hand because no one under the Director’s employee or radius of communication could tell him anything that was happening. It was then that something struck the Director that may be the saving grace in all of this. The idea hit him like a bolt of lightning. He turned to Agent Yuan with grave look on his face and asked the one question he hoped someone had the answer to.
“Where is Michael Madison?”
March 27th, 2013 4:20PM
The White House
Washington, D.C.
The iron gates of the White House were in his sights. Michael punched the gas swerving into opposing traffic and made a straight shot for them. All of the entrances were barricaded by local law enforcement. He didn’t have time to explain who he was or what situation was brewing inside the President’s home.
Officers began shouting commands as they drew their weapons. The former FBI agent wasn’t about to be deterred by a little gunfire. He continued to push the vehicle hitting the vehicle’s govern as much as possible and blitzed down Constitutional Avenue. Pedestrians and other tourist swarmed the area. It would be difficult to cross over without risking injury but it was a risk worth taking. Michael processed the calculation of movement speed versus pathway available and found an opening just ahead that will minimal potential damage and risk. Thankfully, people started running the moment the police drew their arms and shouted commands.
Michael slammed the car to the right and tore down the black iron barricade. The Mercedes jolted a bit and rattled as it drove over the fallen fence then proceeded to speed down the South Lawn with relative ease. All eyes were on him. Michael could feel every single second of his chase being documented and recorded. If he’s wrong, this might very well be the thing that does him in for good. But if he’s right then it would be all worth it. Thinking about it now makes Michael hope he really wasn’t right.
Out of the corner of his eyes, the former FBI agent could see the surrounding law enforcement officers fiddling with the gate entrances. They had made security so tight that not even they themselves could break through those gates. It provided Michael the precious seconds he needed to get in the back door and end this madness, hopefully before it even began. Only one thing was on his mind after his call with Adrian ended and it sure as hell wasn’t about saving the President’s life.
The Mercedes skidded to a screeching halt. Michael kicked open the door and raced towards the door with the RPG-7 in hand. He slung the launcher over his head and shoulder. Hundreds of them were talking about him from both the outside and in. Protocol had to be waned. He could deal with the consequences later.
Michael smashed the back door destroying it brutally off the hinges. Ten Secret Service agents stood within and ha
d their guns drawn all pointed at the former FBI agent. They had learned of his approach and were more than welcoming and ready for his arrival.
“Stand down!” The lead agent ordered. He began whispering into his wrist mic “Target has arrived. Clear to engage?”
The entire room was frozen. Michael didn’t want to move and draw any unnecessary gunfire, especially in the White House. His reputation already had enough memorable footnotes. This was something no government employee wanted on their resume. And unlike his normal victims, all of these men are colleagues. There had to be another way.
“I’m Michael Madison.”
That name appeared to rattle them to their very cores. The S.A.C. was right. They were more than prepared for his arrival as they kept their guns locked and sights aimed right at the former FBI agent’s chest. His attire told them a convincing story. Michael would be very weary too if someone broke into the most sacred building on earth, kicked the door down, and came in looking like he’d just been through hell and back with a rocket launcher strapped across his back. He was actually surprised they didn’t shoot him on the spot. Nevertheless, he had a job to do and he wasn’t about to let a dozen of the most prized guards in the country dissuade him now.
“And you’re standing in my way.”
“It’s him!” The lead agent barked. “Stand down,” he ordered while turning to a fellow agent behind him. “Call in the locals. Tell them we have Madison in custody.”
The agents looked serious on top of nervous. They had all been trained for situations just like these. Unfortunately, the real thing pales in comparison. Michael could hear the clattering of their guns in their hands and sweat beginning to bead of their scalp. Even if push came to shove, intimidation wouldn’t save this former FBI agent now even if it was on his side.
With time being a fleeting presence, there was none left to waste. Only one option was available now. Michael took a deep breath and prepared himself for something he was sure they would regret.
March 27th, 2013 4:22PM
