by Jim Roberts
A bleached skull with two hideous pits for eyes.
And as Brick watched, fascinated and horrified by the figure before him, the eyes glowed bright red.
"Prometheus unit, return to base...error. Return to base...error." A disembodied voice came from the man's form, as if it were some kind of echo. Brick aimed his FAL towards the...thing and prepared to fire.
"What in the name of hell is that?" Brick shouted.
"Oh my God." Sarah said, her voice suddenly weak as she gazed upon the massive soldier. "It's all true. Everything..."
"What do we do, Sergeant?" Krieger asked, leveling his M60E3 at the monster before him. Bowser growled at the creature, but stayed back behind his new master.
"He ain't no friend of mine! Shoot it!"
"No!" Sarah screamed.
Too late, Brick and Krieger opened fire. Round after round struck the sleek body of the tall man.
"Code integration...error. Hostile attack recognized." The tall man moved towards the party, oblivious to the bullets zinging off his armor harmlessly.
Brick and Krieger began moving backwards, firing as they went.
"He is kind of bulletproof, my friend!" Krieger shouted above the din of gunfire.
As they fired, Brick became aware of Sarah, standing between himself and the Russian. She seemed as if in a trance, walking towards the giant armored man. Brick ceased fire.
"Sarah what the hell are you doing?" Brick shouted.
The reporter didn't answer. She continued walking towards the nightmarish figure.
"David...it's you isn't it." Her voice sounded far away. Brick rushed forwards and grabbed her arm, pulling her away.
"This thing...he's your contact?"
"No...not anymore. He is Olympus's secret. He's the reason I needed to see the Colonel!" Sarah face was sallow, her eyes bleary.
"Mission Parameter 2635−destroy enemies of Olympus." The armored trooper lurched towards them, raising the massive blade.
Brick pulled Sarah backwards, causing her to fall into the dirt. He reversed his grip on the FAL, swinging it like a bat against the man's head. The weapon dashed itself into pieces as if it had struck an iron pole.
The giant Olympus soldier hauled his left arm back and backhanded the SAS soldier. Brick flew through the air to land against the parked technical. The Brit crumpled to the ground, barely conscious.
"Godammn eblan!" Krieger hollered as he rushed the walking monolith, dropping his M60 onto the ground. The man reached forward with blinding speed and grabbed the beefy Russian by the throat as if it was nothing, lifting Krieger off his feet. Coming to the aid of his new master, Bowser charged forward, growling fiercely. The dog tried to bite the hardened body armor of the man's leg, but was rewarded with a hard kick that sent the hound whimpering into the dust.
"No!" Sarah screamed, trying to get the armored man's attention. He held Krieger aloft, as the Russian tried to kick against the torso of the impossibly powerful man.
"Identify individual...Sarah Anders." The armored soldier tossed Krieger aside like a helpless kitten. The Russian landed hard against a tin-roof hut, collapsing the feeble structure on top of him.
Sarah faced the man, her eyes pleading. "It is you, David, don't you remember?"
"Sarah. Reporter." The man stood still, staring at the small woman slowly approaching him, arms outstretched.
"Sarah...what are you doing?" Brick shouted, his body wracked in pain.
"Sarah. Reporter. You are to accompany me to the HQ immediately."
The monolithic soldier reached forward and grasped Sarah harshly by the torso, hefting her over his shoulder.
"No!" Brick shouted. He pulled his 9mm Berretta from its holster, but was halted by a flash of pain arcing through his back.
"Brick!" Sarah screamed as the armored soldier crouched low. The obsidian suit glowed brighter as it seemed to charge up energy. With the force of a cannonball, the man leapt into the air, where he sailed weightlessly towards the north, landing every so often to regain his momentum.
Brick shook his head, trying to adjust to what he'd witnessed. He stood up shakily, his head swimming from dizziness. He ambled his way over to the destroyed hut where Bowser was whimpering.
"Krieger, you manky bastard! Get up if you're alive!"
A gloved fist punched up through the ruins of the hut. Brick tossed off several planks of wood to reveal the Russian, swearing up a storm.
"Goddamn! What was that?"
"I don't know, but it took Sarah!" Brick pressed his comlink.
Silence.
He saw the small communication unit on his vest was sparking. Damaged.
"Fucking hell!" Brick looked at Krieger.
The Russian shook his head. "Mine was damaged back during fight with drones."
"Sod a dog." Brick was furious at his own incompetence. The streets around them had almost emptied completely of people, the Zimbalan rebels having either been killed or fled to the adjacent districts or left the city completely. Krieger got to his feet, petting Bowser as the dog joyfully yelped at his master's recovery.
"What do we do, my friend?" Krieger asked, walking over to retrieve his M60E3.
"We find Joe, what the hell else can we do?" Weaponless, Brick picked up a dropped AK-74 from a scorched rebel. The entire street was covered with dead bodies of URAF rebels and civilians, slaughtered by the Hyperion weapons.
Brick checked the breech of the gun, making sure it was still fireable.
Krieger hoisted the M60E3 and jogged over to the technical. The old Ford pickup was battered, but looked functional. The Russian smashed the window and unlocked it.
"I'll drive." Brick said.
"All yours my friend."
Bowser jumped into the front seat between the two Peacemakers. Brick checked the cab for keys. He found them under the sun visor. It took several tries, but the engine eventually turned over. Maneuvering the vehicle into the streets of the blazing district, Brick powered forward towards the downtown.
Unhooking the damaged communicator from his vest, he tossed it to Krieger. "You know this kinda stuff, right? Can you fix it?"
Krieger eyed the piece of tech, his expression noncommittal. "Very iffy my friend."
Bowser gave the Russian a hopeful look.
Krieger smiled. "No problem. Give me your knife. You drive, I fix."
Brick tossed the Russian his combat knife. Krieger snapped open the plastic casing and got to work fixing the comm unit.
As they drove through the devastated streets of Hatfield, all around them lay the carnage inflicted by Olympus. Bodies upon bodies, scorched beyond recognition lay everywhere. Brick's eyes narrowed as he jerked the steering wheel to avoid the corpses.
This war had just turned ugly. The ex-SAS soldier, veteran of more bloody conflicts than he cared to remember, swore to himself that if he did anything in his time in this horrific country, he would find Sarah Anders and return her to tell the truth, even if it cost him his life.
Chapter 22
Jade
Downtown District, Sadoma, Zimbala, November 25th
"Ow! Dammit!" Joe swore as a bullet clanked into the fuselage of the helicopter, a fraction of an inch from his eye. He had to squint as the setting sun cast rich streaks of orange light across the boulevard, making it difficult to see their attackers.
The Centurions had moved with perfect unison into a semi-circle firing position on the downed Black Hawk. In the past few minutes, Joe had only managed to tag one of the crimson armor-wearing troopers. His hunch had been right−the Centurions were getting better. Rather than using their typical attrition tactics which usually resulted in mass casualties, they had boxed Joe and his SEAL teammate in perfectly. Eventually Joe or Rourke would be tagged by a round and it would be lights out.
The SEAL was having far better luck than his army comrade. Rourke aimed the XM25, using the laser rangefinder to calculate the distance between himself and the surrounding Centurions. When the weapon fired, the grenade
s were transmitted the calculated distance by the internal computer of the gun. Once the grenade reached the calculated distance, it would detonate. The weapon was very effective, having chewed up three hapless Centurions so far. Only problem was, Rourke only had three reloads of four rounds apiece.
"What do you figure?" Rourke shouted to Joe above the din of gunfire.
"About what?" Joe answered, shifting his M4 sideways to perform a tactical reload. It was painfully awkward with his broken fingers, but somehow he managed it.
"We can't stay here!"
"I'm not leaving her!" Joe nodded towards Isabella's prone form lying inside the helicopter passenger area.
"I ain't saying we should. But−" Rourke paused to fire a 20mm explosive round at a Centurion who was cocky enough to lift his head from his hiding area. Joe watched as the round combusted right behind the trooper, tearing the man to shreds. Rourke moved back behind the cover of the Black Hawk fuselage to reload a fresh clip into the grenade launcher. "−if we stay here, we all die!"
Joe spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. His broken tooth was hurting something awful. "Alright, here's what we−"
The words died in his throat as Joe saw, with a sinking heart, two Cerberus drones lumbering down the avenue behind the entrenched Centurions. The eight foot tall, obsidian black machines of war had all the necessary firepower to reduce them, and the cover of the Black Hawk, to mincemeat.
Rourke shook his head as he too saw the hulking drones. "If you've got any bright ideas, Braddock, I'd like to hear them."
Joe shot an irritated look at the SEAL. He yanked the action back on his rifle. "I don't know about you, but I'm taking as many of those bastards with me as I can."
Rourke shook his head, "I chose a bad time to join you lot, didn't I?"
Both men prepared to fire their last volley when all hell broke out in the avenue. A multitude of gunfire sprayed from the building's adjacent to the fallen helo. Rocket-propelled grenades buffeted the drones, knocking the walking machines off their feet. The Centurions made a valiant attempt to stand against the assault, but it was all for nought. In a little under a minute, the squad of Olympus troopers was decimated; their pet drones reduced to smouldering rubble.
"Whoa." Joe was gobsmacked at the display of firepower.
A voice called out from the twenty story high-rise adjacent to the Black Hawk.
"Friendly?"
Joe looked at his teammate.
The voice was female.
Rourke shrugged.
"Ho!" Joe shouted back.
Keeping under cover, Joe peered out from the downed bird and saw at least two dozen dark-skinned Zimbalan rebels step from the safety of the burned-out buildings. They began checking the bodies of the Centurions. One rebel leaned down, about to pick up a Centurion's FN F5000 bullpup Carbine.
"Wait!" Joe called from his hiding place. "Don't touch their guns!"
The rebel stopped, just in time−his hand a fraction of an inch from the carbine's grip.
"They're booby-trapped." Joe said, stepping out from the helicopter door. It had been one of the first things Colonel Walsh had told them about the new FN F5000 rifles. One touch of the grip from someone not cleared by the weapon's internal DNA sequencing CPU, and the rifle would explode.
Behind Joe, Rourke moved back into the bird to check on Isabella. "Who are you people?"
One of the rebels, Joe guessed was the leader, stepped forward. Swathed in a beige cloak over a tan ammo vest, the rebel clutched a smoking AK-74 assault rifle. Strapped to her back was an RPG-7, ready to fire.
"Friends." The rebel said, pulling the cowl away.
It was a woman. Taller than many of the Zimbalan men surrounding her, but with lighter brown skin. She carried herself differently than her rebel companions, with a gait and strength of character that spoke to Joe of a strong military background. Her eyes were a rich hazel-green; large and soulful.
Joe's heart almost skipped a beat. She was beautiful.
"Sergeant Braddock, I presume?" The woman spoke in perfect English.
Joe nodded, keeping his weapon at the ready. "That's right ma'am."
"You can call me Jade, Sergeant. Jacob Muzenda sent me to rescue you."
Joe raised an eyebrow at the statement.
"Is there a problem Mister Braddock?"
"No ma'am, just...not used to being rescued, is all. We have a wounded soldier in the helo. We need a stretcher to move her."
Jade motioned to two of her men. The rebels moved forward towards the downed aircraft. From the back of one of the soldiers, the rebels produced a collapsing stretcher. Two Zimbalans unfolded the instrument. Rourke, hand on his sidearm, led the two into the bird to collect Isabella.
"We need to get off the street." Jade said, propping her AK on her hip. "Olympus and the ANDU have pushed up patrols in the downtown. This was only a small scout unit." She nodded to the remains of the Centurions.
The comm squawked. "Give me a second, miss," He activated the communicator, "This is Joe, go ahead, over."
"It's Walsh, how are you guys doing, Joe?"
"We've made contact with the URAF, Colonel. Cordova is badly injured," Joe looked at his own broken fingers, sticking out like afterthoughts, "I'm fine, Rourke is fine, just some cuts and bruises. We'll spike the Black Hawk. There...isn't much left of Angry Boy, Colonel, over."
"I'm sorry about your man, Joe. The situation's changed. Brick and Krieger are driving Miss Anders out through the South. I want your honest evaluation, Sergeant−can you continue with Phase Two of the mission, over?
Joe reasoned it out. He looked over to the helicopter door where the two rebels carried Isabella out on the folding stretcher, one of them holding an emergency IV bag attached to her hand.
We aren't beaten yet. We've been shot down; stranded. But we can still turn this around.
If they didn't stop Musabe now, it was doubtful they would ever get another chance. Olympus would ride through this country unchecked and Africa would become a PMC feeding frenzy.
"We'll give it our best, Colonel, over."
"That's not what I asked, Sergeant."
"You didn't send us in here to scratch our asses, sir."
"That's what I want to hear. The Barbarian will be in overwatch above the city in a few minutes. All CIA satellites are out of range of the country for the night. We'll provide surveillance as long as we can."
"Roger that Colonel. We're moving out, over."
"Good luck, Joe. Stay in touch. Walsh out."
So much for Plan A.
Joe moved back to the rebel lieutenant. Jade was busy ordering her crew back into the network of alleys the URAF used to avoid Olympus and ANDU patrols.
"Is there somewhere we can lie low for the time being?"
Jade nodded. "We have a safe zone three blocks from here. It'll be a hard walk with your wounded."
"We'll make do." Joe moved back to the Black Hawk to aid the Navy SEAL. Rourke was busy removing anything useful from the Black Hawk crash. As he left the wreckage to join Joe, the SEAL tossed a grenade inside.
"Via Con Dios, son." The SEAL spoke with sadness in his voice. He hadn't known Angry Bow any longer than Joe, but didn't make the pain of losing a comrade any easier. The incendiary exploded, destroying anything else useful inside the aircraft.
As they prepared to move out, Jade noticed Joe's hand. "We should fix that quick."
"It can keep." Joe replied.
"No it can't." The rebel lieutenant took Joe's hand in hers.
"Just be gentl−"
Snap.
With a hard tug, the lady set his pinky. Joe bit his lip. He thought he saw the woman smile out of the corner of his eye. With another sharp yank and a wince of pain, Jade had set both of his fingers. She produced a small piece of fabric from her pocket and quickly wrapped it tight around the wounded digits.
"There. Now you won't be completely useless if we come across a squad of Centurions."
Joe rolled his eyes. His
fingers throbbed something fierce.
"Let's go." Jade motioned for her soldiers to move out.
Rourke handed a rucksack of gear from the helo to Joe. Before joining the rebels, the SEAL held Joe back a moment, whispering, "You think we can trust our new friends?"
Joe checked the binding on his fingers. It was a good dressing. "Not sure yet."
"What if they turn us in to Olympus? CIA spies might make a tasty present for our friends in black armor." Rourke spoke even quieter this time.
"Just keep your eyes out. Leave the worrying to me."
With that, Joe hefted his M4A1 and followed after the young rebel lieutenant.
* * *
AS DARKNESS overcame the downtown district, Joe noticed a glowing light coming from the south. After a while it became larger, illuminating the night sky. Joe stopped, trying to figure out what it was.
"It's Hatfield." Jade said without being asked, "Olympus destroyed it."
"My god. How many−"
Jade swallowed, her large eyes swelling with pain. "It's gone, that's all I know."
The distant sound of echoing gunfire pulled Joe's attention away. Standing in the rubble of the ruined city, his own heart sank at the shear loss of life that had occurred. This was what he had joined the army to stop...to make a difference.
And now, another war had claimed countless lives.
Joe swore on every soul of those lost today...he would kill David Musabe. He would free this country from Olympus.
* * *
THE WAY to the safe zone was precarious, especially with the wounded Cordova slowing the advance. Debris littered the streets everywhere they walked. Joe used one of the large survival flashlights Rourke had salvaged from the helo to light his way. The rebels used snap glow sticks to illuminate their own paths. Joe stuck close to Isabella. The Marine corps pilot did not look good. The two rebels had stabilized her as best as they could, with Rourke's help, but it was almost certain she was bleeding internally.
