8
8-Ball
Guest
Okay, it's lost its Heinlein touch. But the touch will be back! Really, it will! Just wait for installment 6 if you want your touch. It's coming installment 6.
Well, without further ado:
REQUIEM: CHAPTER FOUR
The Battle of the Pacific
As the Seaboard came into view and the vast city stretching across what were, quite some time ago, the “Thirteen Colonies,” so came the flak.
Shots pounded the fleet of vertibirds as bombers began dropping their warheads at positions of government and military control. The pilot of my bomber gave out a sounding “JUMP!” As our squad engaged our parachutes and jumped out the side into the cityscape below us.
Halfway down, looking up, I saw our bomber ignite as a volley of flak blasted its side, sending the thing smashing into a large building. Landing at the ground, we chased away the civilians in the area with fire targeted for the air.
I gestured to the rest of the squad to follow me in as we jumped into the nearest subway duct. Rico and Wolenczak took up the front, weapons at the ready. As the rest of us followed behind, we saw a group of soldiers waiting for a subway to take them to a turret, I’d suppose.
Wolenczak leveled his weapon. “Hands up!”
The cadré of soldiers threw their hands up in the air as Valdez and Claire tied them up and threw the three into the mens’ restroom. Bozar and Seraphim got ready to fire at the driver’s seat of the subway train while Cale and I loaded our weapons in preparation of jumping inside with Bozar and Seraphim and shooting the soldiers within.
Wolenczak and Rico guarded the entrance into the subway with their weapons as Claire and Valdez joined us.
The train came blasting through the subway and to an abrupt stop as Bozar let his gun rip open the glass at the driver’s seat and kill whoever was in it. Wolenczak and Rico gave up their positions and jumped into the train with the rest of the squad as we systematically searched it for soldiers and threw whoever was in it out the door.
After sounding the all-clear from the back of the train, I waited for Cale in the front of it to start the thing up.
The train started herself up as Cale engaged the controls to send her straight to the nearest entrance to the bunkers under Capitol Hill which controlled the Enclave’s nuclear armament.
It would be about three hours before we got there, so the squad had time to socialize. It was at this time that I actually found myself attracted to Claire. I didn’t really want to be—it just happened. Before I knew it I was stammering and stumbling on words and having trouble talking clearly to her.
I think she realized. I really did. I wanted to tell her, but something came over me whenever I actually got within three feet of Claire. Like my stomach was contracting and expanding and doing the macarena and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
I was sitting in what had been the dining car before the war when she approached me. “Hey, uh, thanks for all you did back there.”
It was only now that I actually got to see what she looked like outside of a gorilla face headpiece. I had been too busy concentrating on the mission to even notice her, and now I got to see the endless beauty of her body in its entirety—well, her face anyway.
“Uh, I—yeah, no problem—I have to go to the bathroom. Bye.” I stepped out of the dining car and into the mens’ room, berating my own stupidity. You fucking idiot! What the fuck’s wrong with you? Fucking idiot! Idiot! Idiot!
I thought I heard her mutter, “But I thought you could piss in your suit…” as she stepped by the mens’ room and into the next car along.
Stepping out, I slipped past her and then acted as if I had forgotten something, turned around, and “accidentally” bumped into her again. Yes, I did it on purpose. No, I still don’t know why.
“Hey—did you forget to wash your hands in the bathroom? Heh.” My face was probably contorted with a milieu of expressions, but neither her nor I could see them through my facemask.
Well, say something! I thought to myself. “Hah. Good one. Uh, yeah—that Colonel guy was a sick bastard and—“
IDIOT! LET ME SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU! I-D-I-O-T!
The train came to an abrupt stop. We had reached our destination. Stepping outside, the squad readied their weapons and ran up the stairs to the ground as we saw before us a sky of Eurasian, Southasian, and American fighters having a battle royale.
Nodding amongst ourselves, the squaddies ran forward and began scaling Capitol Hill. We reached the top to encounter a group of heavily-armed guards. Opening fire, their powered armors were ripped to shreds, but not without the loss of two of our own.
A spray of bullets was headed straight for Valdez. Rico, somehow intoxicated by adrenalin, dived in front of her and soaked up the entire spray as his lifeless carcass smacked into the ground, dead.
“Oh my God—oh my God—he’s dead! Oh my God…” Valdez crouched down by Rico and tore of her headpiece and his, looking down into his lifeless face, and then up into a bullet.
I heard a defiant “NO!!!!!” and looked away from the scene, stepping forward into the largest building with the rest of my squad. Seeing before us another four troopers, we all took up hiding places behind assorted cover.
Cale turned to me. “I’ve got a girl back home, see, and I promised her I’d make it back, see, but I won’t, see—I won’t! And…. and….”
“She probably died in the blanket,” I sorrowfully informed him.
“Not everyone died. She was one of the few to take a vertibird cruise that day, straight to the Chinese border and back. Lots of people were. I told her I’d come back and live there with her. We’d go live in the place between Eurasia and China.” He replied.
The guy was only so young, and he almost reminded me of Winston. I felt it was my duty not to fail where I had in protecting Tim. Cale would make it. He had to. “You’ll make it. That’s a promise, Cale.”
“Thanks, boss.” He told me.
“READY!” Bozar shouted at the top of his lungs. “WEAPONS ARMED! Jump in three, two, one, FOR EURASIA!”
The remaining six of us jumped out from behind our cover and let loose an overwhelming spray of bullets at our enemies. It seemed that they were hit before they got a single shot off, but I was sorrowfully mistaken.
Looking down at Cale’s dead body, I saw where they’d hit him. A shot right in the eye. His eyepiece was cracked and blood seeping out of it. I’d broken my promise.
In a distorted rage, I ran forward with the rest of the squad right into the center of the Hall of Congress. Ripping open the gorrila faces of the two guards, I kicked down a large door to step into a meeting of a bunch of U.S. Politicians.
“This is for Cale!” I shouted as my gun opened up a cross of fire and sent the politicians flying into walls and their table stained with blood.
The rest of the squad walked in, somewhat amazed. But it wasn’t over. Eight Troopers ran in, MP31-L’s armed and at the ready. The entire squad’s guns opened fire as bullets dented armor and sent troopers flying into walls. At the same time, Wolenczak got hit in the chest with a spray of bullets, finishing him off and kicking him into the wall.
Four of the Troopers were left as Claire got hit by at least thirty bullets and fell straight down into the ground. Gripping even harded than I was previously, I blew the head straight off of the fucker who’d sent her packing and made another one suck on a bullet while Bozar and Seraphim blew away the last two.
Rushing over to Claire’s tattered body, I ripped off my headpiece. She forced a smile. “Well, I won’t get to… enter the access codes for the computer, I’m downloading them into your suit… but it’ll take too long. Grab my computer chip.”
I complied and ripped it out of her suit’s headpiece, shoving it into my own.
“Claire,” I began, “I—“
She coughed up some blood onto my face, her eyes becoming blank with nothingness.
Maybe she’d known. I only hope that it’s the truth.
Closing her eyes with my hand, I slowly put on my headpiece and stood up.
Seraphim tried to comfort me and get me on my feet at the same time. “We’ve all lost good friends in this stupid war. Now do you want to sit around and whine or get up and end it right here?”
“End it right here.” I responded.
“Well, we don’t exactly have eternity.” Bozar informed us.
I chuckled. “What is this, the 100th time we’ve been the last survivors of a squadron?”
I could hear a faint chuckle over the comms as Seraphim helped pull me up. The three of us stepped up to the next door and opened it to reveal an elevator door. I slammed my fist down on the button and opened the thing.
We stepped inside and started the thing down into the Enclave Bunkers. Down into the pits of hell to end a stupid war.
I blocked out the Star Spangled Banner over the muzak radio port. “Satan’s Anthem” it was called by Eurasian soldiers.
Bozar was in the middle of cutting off the song from his comms as well when he told us to turn on muzak port.
“Come on now, troopers… I know you want to come down here and blow up the Enclave, but I know a certain one of you, a renegade, wouldn’t be happy losing his parents?” It quacked.
I was startled. “P-parents? I don’t have any—I—“
The radio cut me off. “How did we get the blood sample popping out of the concessions box on the side of your elevator, and how did we get it to match yours perfectly? As I recall, the Coalition hacked in to our databases as it does for all traitors and prevented your DNA from registering as that of a traitor on our scanners by deleting records of it. We can’t reproduce it, but the chromosomes on the left and those on the right will certainly measure up to your own. Run program 332 and see for yourself.”
Examining the sample, I realized that the bastard was correct. “Surrender, traitor.”
“Son, please. The U.S. only wants what’s best for you. Really. Surrender and no one’s going to get hurt.” Came an old female voice from the speaker.
“You bastard! Killing innocent people like this…” I could feel a tear coming to my eye. I didn’t want them to kill my parents.
The soldier came back on the radio. “Gestapo tactics are a great way of getting rid of dissent.”
“Fuck you.” I told him.
* * * * * * *
The elevator came to a stop as I kicked open the door to reveal a trio of Enclave Troopers in decorated powered armor at the other sdie of a lighted steel hallway. The three of us jumped to the side into cover as I readied a grenade and tossed it down into the hallway.
Jumping out into the smoke, we emptied our machine-guns’ clips into the troopers at the other side and sent them flying back into the wall. I reloaded my gun with Bozar and Seraphim as we ran across the hallway to the other side of the hallway.
Bozar and Seraphim simultaneously popped out on right and left sides of the hallway’s end, which sported a wall right ahead and passages to the right and left; checking for enemies while I ran out into the middle, back against wall.
No one.
It would appear that the passages to the right and left circled around some square in front of us and met up. I went around the right side with Bozar and Seraphim on the left. Sure enough, there was an alcove housing a door at the end.
Standing to the sides, we got ready as I slammed my fist down on the opening controls. I ran in with Bozar and Seraphim to see a room filled with a computers and devoid of life except for… an old lady with a bayonet through her chest lying on the ground and an old man with blood leaking out of his stomach beside her.
Dad.
I knelt beside him, ripping off my headpiece as Bozar and Seraphim examined the computers. He was rather old with white hair, a small beard, and deep blue eyes which seemed to gaze into your soul.
“Son…” he began. “Why did you do all this?”
“Dad, they aren’t good! Why would they kill mom and try to kill you, too? They’re evil! They’ve killed everyone I ever loved or knew except for you and my two squadmates and pretty soon they’ll be the only one’s left!” I broke into tears right there.
“It’s okay, son… I figured that the moment my own son’s gut instincts apparently told him that they weren’t the good guys. You’ve made me proud. Before I go, let me give you one piece of advice…..” He violently rasped as all life left his body.
“Dad….” I stood up, wiping the tears from my face and putting my headpiece back on.
They’ll pay, I thought. The fuckers will pay as dearly as they can.
Bozar tried to comfort me but I pushed his hand aside. Noticing a door at the end of the room, I shot open the lock and kicked it down.
The war room.
A trooper stood in front of me, gun drawn. I shot it out of his hand and sent him flying back off the railing and down into the pit of computers, lights, politicians, and poker that was the Enclave war room.
Stepping forward, I saw that I was on an open elevator within a huge nest of catwalks and computerized light. Slamming the button to go down, we loaded our weapons one last time and got ready to fight the good fight.
* * * * * *
The elevator came to a stop as we jumped out and began firing our weapons at the lightly-armored guards at the large ground floor. Stepping up into the small, opened rooms around it, we sent senators flying across the room and into walls.
It was at this point that Seraphim lost his life.
A bullet hit his arm and knocked off the plating. I took up his position as Bozar picked him up, inadvertently using him as a shield for bulletfire and immediately dropping his corpse to the ground.
I tore the armor on the guard to shreds and opened Seraphim’s headpiece.
Staring up at both of us, he started talking. “I did something good. My ancestors would be proud. Now, I can join them. Goodbye, my friends. You have been invaluable companions.”
Looking up at Bozar, I nodded.
We jumped to our feet and reloaded our weapons as another open elevator landed in the middle of the war room’s bottom floor.
Atop it was a man in a huge set of powered armor, emblazened all over with the emblems of the Marine Corps and United States, as well as “BETTER DEAD THAN RED” painted on his stomach-plate. The monstrosity stood about 13” and carried what looked like a quad-barreled bozar in each hand.
“Hello, muties. The name’s Horrigan. Jonathon Horrigan. Pleased to meet you.” His voice was cold and shallow coming through his facemask.
“Fuck.” I said over the comms.
“Same here,” Bozar began, “But at least we die with honor.”
“I’m not after your commie friend. It’s your traitorous ass I want, 8-Ball.” He yelled at me.
Raising one of the quad-barelled guns, he literally tore every plate of armor off of Bozar’s body and left nothing but a pile of gore where the great warrior had once stood.
“Any last words?” Horrigan asked.
“Everyone I ever loved, held dear… knew…. All gone, because of you! You and your United Fucking States can kiss my ass!”
“Very well. Let’s get it on.”
“So be it.”
“So be it.”
He threw down one of his quad-barrels and used both hands to target me with the other one. I jumped to the side and avoided a blast of his shots which blew a computer to shreds. Aiming at his body, I emptied my MP31-L’s machinegun clip and fired three grenades. The walking horror seemed unhurt.
Aiming at the elevator control, I fired a shot and sent the thing flying up. After it was 50 meters in the air, I targeted the two lefthand cords and made the thing tip over, sending Jonnie smashing into the ground.
Taking advantage of the situation, I ran over and picked up the quad-barrel he’d tossed down, then shoved it in Jonnie’s face.
“Semper Fi!” He yelled out as the four barrels fired simultaneously and ripped his facemask to shreds.
I ran over to the console nearest me and engaged the nuclear warheads with the disk Claire had given me for a trajectory of going straight up, arming themselves, and going right back down.
I had ten minutes to get out. Running to Jonnie’s elevator, I jetted up to the wherever it would go, and that happened to be an enclosed vertibird hangar with a camoflauged door resting on the hillside. The hangar was a large area with at least ten vertibirds in it.
Jumping in the nearest vertibird, I engaged the comms to attempt to find the commander of the EC fighter wing, but he’d apparently been shot down. I jacked in with the second in command and warned him.
“GET OUT OF THERE! SHE’S GOING TO BLOW IN SEVEN!” I yelled.
The guy’s face seemed glad. “Finally, we get our asses out. Men, RETREAT!”
A couple of troopers barged into the hangar as my vertibird machineguns ripped apart their armors. I hacked into the hangar bay controls and opened the door, flying out and back towards Eurasia, or more specifically, what was left of England where the remnants of the Eurasian armies were ordered to return to.
Unfortunately, they wanted to tag along.
Identifying myself to the Eurasian\Southasian planes as friendly, I joined up with their wings and got ready for a fight.
Magnetizing my boots and stepping out on top of my ‘bird, I called for another one to join up with mine. As it came into view, I reached my hand into the the stolen vertibird, loaded the missiles, and cut the throttle. Jumping onto the adjacent ‘bird, I rolled towards the hatch and jumped inside, taking up a gunner position at a turret.
I heard a crash as the stolen ‘bird probably exploded in the midst of the Enclave fleet, wreaking havoc.
The gunners at my vertibird were interrupted by a priority-one transmission from the Admiral of the Eurasian Navy. “Prepare to engage Enclave fleet in naval\aerial battle.”
Our vertibirds swung around and began firing machine guns and missiles. I could see, in the distance ahead of our own, the U.S. Navy closing in on our position, its guns at the ready. The vast fleet consisted of too many ships to count, and I only hoped that Eurasia’s was as big, not being able to get a good look from my position.
I had to live. Had to get Timothy his requiem, Cale’s news of demise to his girlfriend, and Eurasia its birthright—to win over the Enclave.
The vertibird shook as an Enclave fighter spiraled into the sea, leaving a trail of flame behind it. I targeted the turret at nearby Enclave bomber, probably heading for the Eurasian fleet, and tore one of its gunner pods to shreds. My target shook and I proceded to shoot its hydraulics section and cockpit before turning to send an Enclave fighter smashing into it with a shot to its engines.
I looked around my own vertibird for a moment before we entered Enclave airspace. I was in a bomber with three pilots and six gunners. Before I knew it, I got knocked back into paying attention by some flak which got a little bit too close for comfort.
I fastened the green aiming reticule on another passing Enclave fighter, painted with “BETTER RED THAN DEAD” across its side. I fired a shot straight into the cockpit, igniting the eject module and sending the thing spinning, shooting its own cockpit down into the water at an enormous speed.
Hearing a loud explosion within the vertibird, I looked down at the unpadded floor to see a huge hole where the bubble turret used to be. The door to the cockpit automatically shut as all of us magnetized our boots.
Glancing yet again through the reticule, I caught a glimpse of a swarm of EC PT Boats swarming a small destroyer and ripping its hull to shreds with machinegun fire. The destroyer’s turrets frantically zoomed from PT Boat to PT Boat, occasionally firing off shots but always missing the darting PT’s.
As the destroyer ripped in half, I saw two completely un-armored crewmen get up on top and take out sniper rifles, obviously making some last-ditch attempt at sinking a PT Boat. Firing my turret, I sent off a volley of 20 tracer bullets. One of the crewmen was knocked overboard, but not hit. The other looked around in panic before being ripped to shreds by a PT machinegun.
I must admit, I felt sorry for them.
Somewhere else, I could see an EC cruiser with its rear up in the sky, slowly sinking into the water, powerless to even launch a lifeboat without having to drop it 70 feet into the water. A war was raging beneath my feet and I was powerless to stop it. All I could do was tap on the wall that was the Enclave Air Force. Even with the thousands of bombers all simultaneously tapping, we’d only ever barely scratch it.
At sea, the Eurasian Coalition was a tsunami rivaling the power of the Enclave.. At air, it was a paper airplane rivaling the power of a piece of crap.
Everything looked bad until we got the relieving message over the comms systems.
“East Asian Alliance forces are joining in! We have what’s left of China, Japan, Eastern Russia, Korea, every militant force in the area!” Came the joyful shout.
I heard the captain muttering that those were the nations that dropped the bombs on the U.S., but it was Eurasian assumption that the U.S. dropped the bombs first and the communist powers second.
Turning my turret, I saw in front of our vertibird a swarm of planes, most unpainted from their pre-war state and covered in red flags. The occasional one had markings on it, but for the most part nobody really cared. They were going to help us out, and we needed help.
As the arm of the Enclave made a right hook and turned around to combat the Eastasian forces, the crew of the vertibird got to shut the gaping hole at its underbelly. Grabbing magnetizing plates, we sealed the hole and demagnetized our boots.
Looking at the ground, I noticed that a piece of paper had apparently become stuck to my boot. Picking it up, I examined it and realized that it must have come from the large city at the thirteen colonies. The paper was a beautiful color, looking as if ripped from a journal of some sort. Finally, I actually got around to reading the damn thing.
theyll shoot me i dont care down with uncle sam theyll shoot me in the back of the neck always in the back of the neck they always shoot you in the back of the neck i dont care down with uncle sam
I never really found out what the hell it meant.
I dropped the note as the bomber jerked and began a descent towards the Enclave naval fleet. Re-manning my post, I began firing at PT Boats in the area, only ever managing to scrape their metal hulls.
Eventually, the bomber I was in began its run on a nearby attack cruiser. We started dropping 100kg bombs on the ship’s bulky exterior and set the command center aflame.
“Just how close are we to the Eastern Seaboard?” I asked the captain out of curiosity as we got in range to turn for our next run.
“About 200 miles.” He responded glumly.
“Pretty close.” I murmured under my breath.
“Like my wife.” The captain told me.
“Sorry to hear that…” I tried to comfort him amidst my own discomfort.
“Yeah, well it’s you bastards that annoy me. You think you have all the motivation and haven’t lost ANYBODY. You hear that? Huh?” The captain was losing it.
I wasn’t very happy with this. “Hey, look. We’ve all lost loved ones, and I’m no exception, okay? So don’t you be telling me about motivation.”
“And who do you think you are?” He asked in an angry tone.
Pissed, I gave him the full story. “The guy who jumped onto the vertibird. The guy who blew up the Eastern Seaboard. The guy who’d be as decorated as the legendary pre-war goddess Ma’arta S’tort’s house if there was a ceremonial chamber left in Eurasia.”
The captain laughed. “No, seriously, I believe you… but.. Ma’arta S’tort! BWAHAHAHAHA! It’s Hullory Kalyntin! Where did you learn a name like Ma’arta S’tort?” The comms clicked off.
Shaking my head, smiling at the whole pre-war polytheism routine, I was utterly taken by surprise when a flak blast tore everything behind me to shreds, leaving only the front half of the vertibird intact and its rear a big window with a nice view.
The vertibird spiraled out of control for about three miles until smashing into the water and inflating its floats. I could tell that it would only remain afloat for an hour, so I had to work quickly.
The cockpit of the ‘bird had crashed first and the water around it was turning red. No need to check. The gunners around me were all dead, and I had one last hope—to hijack a PT Boat.
Setting up my Enclave comms signals, I engaged my suit’s distress beacon and heard a triumphant “I’m on it” over all the radio chatter.
Sitting down and taking aim with my MP31-L, I got ready for the arrival of the ‘boat. As it changed from a dot in the horizon to an approaching object the size of a roach, I readied my weapon.
Firing a spray at the pilot’s seat, I sent him flying off the back of the white boat along with the co-driver. As it zoomed past, I jumped on the Boat and hacked into the controls.
I couldn’t have gone back to the battle. Getting through the Enclave defensive barrier would have been suicide. I had to head inland—again.
* * * * * *
As my PT Boat landed on the shore of the ruined cities, I took a look around me.
Rubble and corpses liberally strewn about. A stretching, bombed-out metropolis of the skeletons of buildings and people.
I was, and still am, very ashamed of what I had done to the eastern seaboard. But it was something that had to be done. Better than letting the Enclave rule the world.
And then the thought came to me. The thought that would ultimately ruin my morals.
If the Enclave can’t rule the world, who can? Why did we launch this last-ditch effort? To remove humanity from the face of the earth? To kill it off? At least with the Enclave, the race would survive and it wouldn’t have to pour money into military. People would live happily in a world without war.
And what we were doing would change that all.
I noticed through the back of my mind a sound. “Mr. Handy! He does EVERYTHING! New Enclave model available!”
Looking around me, I noticed a small, portable television.
I picked it up and took a look at the screen. “In news today: The United States of America survives the nuclear attack. The metropolis of the thirteen colonies has been wiped out, but Washington, D.C. and Uncle Sam are unharmed due to our highly-powered SDI defense network!”
The droning continued. “The president will now adress the nation.” An old man (whether he was old or not was debatable, but his hair was very white) covered in presidential regalia appeared on the screen and started talking. “The Eurasian swine have tried, yet again, to destroy America. This time around, they have joined forces with the pigs of Eastasia and have made an entirely futile attempt at hurting us. Do not be alarmed. With our capture of Oceania, we have placed special ICBM bases in Australia which will destroy the African military and kill what is left of the crippled Eurasia and Eastasia. The time for rejoicing is now!”
Dropping the television set to the ground, I looked around me for some sort of a car. My only hope was to take this car to Washington, D.C. and get rid of the small cabinet remaining there. After that, Oceania would probably rise to power and begin killing off the remnants of other nations.
The only hope was this previously-unknown “Africa.” There, the free world could cobble together its militant forces and cripple the military of Oceania.
But right now, none of that mattered. I didn’t care about the good of the human race. I wanted revenge.
I was going to kick the United States down to its knees and execute it with a shot to the back of the neck.
Hopefully, the Battle of the Pacific, which was raging at that very moment, would take care of the knee-kicking part for me.
Hopefully.
Well, without further ado:
REQUIEM: CHAPTER FOUR
The Battle of the Pacific
As the Seaboard came into view and the vast city stretching across what were, quite some time ago, the “Thirteen Colonies,” so came the flak.
Shots pounded the fleet of vertibirds as bombers began dropping their warheads at positions of government and military control. The pilot of my bomber gave out a sounding “JUMP!” As our squad engaged our parachutes and jumped out the side into the cityscape below us.
Halfway down, looking up, I saw our bomber ignite as a volley of flak blasted its side, sending the thing smashing into a large building. Landing at the ground, we chased away the civilians in the area with fire targeted for the air.
I gestured to the rest of the squad to follow me in as we jumped into the nearest subway duct. Rico and Wolenczak took up the front, weapons at the ready. As the rest of us followed behind, we saw a group of soldiers waiting for a subway to take them to a turret, I’d suppose.
Wolenczak leveled his weapon. “Hands up!”
The cadré of soldiers threw their hands up in the air as Valdez and Claire tied them up and threw the three into the mens’ restroom. Bozar and Seraphim got ready to fire at the driver’s seat of the subway train while Cale and I loaded our weapons in preparation of jumping inside with Bozar and Seraphim and shooting the soldiers within.
Wolenczak and Rico guarded the entrance into the subway with their weapons as Claire and Valdez joined us.
The train came blasting through the subway and to an abrupt stop as Bozar let his gun rip open the glass at the driver’s seat and kill whoever was in it. Wolenczak and Rico gave up their positions and jumped into the train with the rest of the squad as we systematically searched it for soldiers and threw whoever was in it out the door.
After sounding the all-clear from the back of the train, I waited for Cale in the front of it to start the thing up.
The train started herself up as Cale engaged the controls to send her straight to the nearest entrance to the bunkers under Capitol Hill which controlled the Enclave’s nuclear armament.
It would be about three hours before we got there, so the squad had time to socialize. It was at this time that I actually found myself attracted to Claire. I didn’t really want to be—it just happened. Before I knew it I was stammering and stumbling on words and having trouble talking clearly to her.
I think she realized. I really did. I wanted to tell her, but something came over me whenever I actually got within three feet of Claire. Like my stomach was contracting and expanding and doing the macarena and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.
I was sitting in what had been the dining car before the war when she approached me. “Hey, uh, thanks for all you did back there.”
It was only now that I actually got to see what she looked like outside of a gorilla face headpiece. I had been too busy concentrating on the mission to even notice her, and now I got to see the endless beauty of her body in its entirety—well, her face anyway.
“Uh, I—yeah, no problem—I have to go to the bathroom. Bye.” I stepped out of the dining car and into the mens’ room, berating my own stupidity. You fucking idiot! What the fuck’s wrong with you? Fucking idiot! Idiot! Idiot!
I thought I heard her mutter, “But I thought you could piss in your suit…” as she stepped by the mens’ room and into the next car along.
Stepping out, I slipped past her and then acted as if I had forgotten something, turned around, and “accidentally” bumped into her again. Yes, I did it on purpose. No, I still don’t know why.
“Hey—did you forget to wash your hands in the bathroom? Heh.” My face was probably contorted with a milieu of expressions, but neither her nor I could see them through my facemask.
Well, say something! I thought to myself. “Hah. Good one. Uh, yeah—that Colonel guy was a sick bastard and—“
IDIOT! LET ME SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU! I-D-I-O-T!
The train came to an abrupt stop. We had reached our destination. Stepping outside, the squad readied their weapons and ran up the stairs to the ground as we saw before us a sky of Eurasian, Southasian, and American fighters having a battle royale.
Nodding amongst ourselves, the squaddies ran forward and began scaling Capitol Hill. We reached the top to encounter a group of heavily-armed guards. Opening fire, their powered armors were ripped to shreds, but not without the loss of two of our own.
A spray of bullets was headed straight for Valdez. Rico, somehow intoxicated by adrenalin, dived in front of her and soaked up the entire spray as his lifeless carcass smacked into the ground, dead.
“Oh my God—oh my God—he’s dead! Oh my God…” Valdez crouched down by Rico and tore of her headpiece and his, looking down into his lifeless face, and then up into a bullet.
I heard a defiant “NO!!!!!” and looked away from the scene, stepping forward into the largest building with the rest of my squad. Seeing before us another four troopers, we all took up hiding places behind assorted cover.
Cale turned to me. “I’ve got a girl back home, see, and I promised her I’d make it back, see, but I won’t, see—I won’t! And…. and….”
“She probably died in the blanket,” I sorrowfully informed him.
“Not everyone died. She was one of the few to take a vertibird cruise that day, straight to the Chinese border and back. Lots of people were. I told her I’d come back and live there with her. We’d go live in the place between Eurasia and China.” He replied.
The guy was only so young, and he almost reminded me of Winston. I felt it was my duty not to fail where I had in protecting Tim. Cale would make it. He had to. “You’ll make it. That’s a promise, Cale.”
“Thanks, boss.” He told me.
“READY!” Bozar shouted at the top of his lungs. “WEAPONS ARMED! Jump in three, two, one, FOR EURASIA!”
The remaining six of us jumped out from behind our cover and let loose an overwhelming spray of bullets at our enemies. It seemed that they were hit before they got a single shot off, but I was sorrowfully mistaken.
Looking down at Cale’s dead body, I saw where they’d hit him. A shot right in the eye. His eyepiece was cracked and blood seeping out of it. I’d broken my promise.
In a distorted rage, I ran forward with the rest of the squad right into the center of the Hall of Congress. Ripping open the gorrila faces of the two guards, I kicked down a large door to step into a meeting of a bunch of U.S. Politicians.
“This is for Cale!” I shouted as my gun opened up a cross of fire and sent the politicians flying into walls and their table stained with blood.
The rest of the squad walked in, somewhat amazed. But it wasn’t over. Eight Troopers ran in, MP31-L’s armed and at the ready. The entire squad’s guns opened fire as bullets dented armor and sent troopers flying into walls. At the same time, Wolenczak got hit in the chest with a spray of bullets, finishing him off and kicking him into the wall.
Four of the Troopers were left as Claire got hit by at least thirty bullets and fell straight down into the ground. Gripping even harded than I was previously, I blew the head straight off of the fucker who’d sent her packing and made another one suck on a bullet while Bozar and Seraphim blew away the last two.
Rushing over to Claire’s tattered body, I ripped off my headpiece. She forced a smile. “Well, I won’t get to… enter the access codes for the computer, I’m downloading them into your suit… but it’ll take too long. Grab my computer chip.”
I complied and ripped it out of her suit’s headpiece, shoving it into my own.
“Claire,” I began, “I—“
She coughed up some blood onto my face, her eyes becoming blank with nothingness.
Maybe she’d known. I only hope that it’s the truth.
Closing her eyes with my hand, I slowly put on my headpiece and stood up.
Seraphim tried to comfort me and get me on my feet at the same time. “We’ve all lost good friends in this stupid war. Now do you want to sit around and whine or get up and end it right here?”
“End it right here.” I responded.
“Well, we don’t exactly have eternity.” Bozar informed us.
I chuckled. “What is this, the 100th time we’ve been the last survivors of a squadron?”
I could hear a faint chuckle over the comms as Seraphim helped pull me up. The three of us stepped up to the next door and opened it to reveal an elevator door. I slammed my fist down on the button and opened the thing.
We stepped inside and started the thing down into the Enclave Bunkers. Down into the pits of hell to end a stupid war.
I blocked out the Star Spangled Banner over the muzak radio port. “Satan’s Anthem” it was called by Eurasian soldiers.
Bozar was in the middle of cutting off the song from his comms as well when he told us to turn on muzak port.
“Come on now, troopers… I know you want to come down here and blow up the Enclave, but I know a certain one of you, a renegade, wouldn’t be happy losing his parents?” It quacked.
I was startled. “P-parents? I don’t have any—I—“
The radio cut me off. “How did we get the blood sample popping out of the concessions box on the side of your elevator, and how did we get it to match yours perfectly? As I recall, the Coalition hacked in to our databases as it does for all traitors and prevented your DNA from registering as that of a traitor on our scanners by deleting records of it. We can’t reproduce it, but the chromosomes on the left and those on the right will certainly measure up to your own. Run program 332 and see for yourself.”
Examining the sample, I realized that the bastard was correct. “Surrender, traitor.”
“Son, please. The U.S. only wants what’s best for you. Really. Surrender and no one’s going to get hurt.” Came an old female voice from the speaker.
“You bastard! Killing innocent people like this…” I could feel a tear coming to my eye. I didn’t want them to kill my parents.
The soldier came back on the radio. “Gestapo tactics are a great way of getting rid of dissent.”
“Fuck you.” I told him.
* * * * * * *
The elevator came to a stop as I kicked open the door to reveal a trio of Enclave Troopers in decorated powered armor at the other sdie of a lighted steel hallway. The three of us jumped to the side into cover as I readied a grenade and tossed it down into the hallway.
Jumping out into the smoke, we emptied our machine-guns’ clips into the troopers at the other side and sent them flying back into the wall. I reloaded my gun with Bozar and Seraphim as we ran across the hallway to the other side of the hallway.
Bozar and Seraphim simultaneously popped out on right and left sides of the hallway’s end, which sported a wall right ahead and passages to the right and left; checking for enemies while I ran out into the middle, back against wall.
No one.
It would appear that the passages to the right and left circled around some square in front of us and met up. I went around the right side with Bozar and Seraphim on the left. Sure enough, there was an alcove housing a door at the end.
Standing to the sides, we got ready as I slammed my fist down on the opening controls. I ran in with Bozar and Seraphim to see a room filled with a computers and devoid of life except for… an old lady with a bayonet through her chest lying on the ground and an old man with blood leaking out of his stomach beside her.
Dad.
I knelt beside him, ripping off my headpiece as Bozar and Seraphim examined the computers. He was rather old with white hair, a small beard, and deep blue eyes which seemed to gaze into your soul.
“Son…” he began. “Why did you do all this?”
“Dad, they aren’t good! Why would they kill mom and try to kill you, too? They’re evil! They’ve killed everyone I ever loved or knew except for you and my two squadmates and pretty soon they’ll be the only one’s left!” I broke into tears right there.
“It’s okay, son… I figured that the moment my own son’s gut instincts apparently told him that they weren’t the good guys. You’ve made me proud. Before I go, let me give you one piece of advice…..” He violently rasped as all life left his body.
“Dad….” I stood up, wiping the tears from my face and putting my headpiece back on.
They’ll pay, I thought. The fuckers will pay as dearly as they can.
Bozar tried to comfort me but I pushed his hand aside. Noticing a door at the end of the room, I shot open the lock and kicked it down.
The war room.
A trooper stood in front of me, gun drawn. I shot it out of his hand and sent him flying back off the railing and down into the pit of computers, lights, politicians, and poker that was the Enclave war room.
Stepping forward, I saw that I was on an open elevator within a huge nest of catwalks and computerized light. Slamming the button to go down, we loaded our weapons one last time and got ready to fight the good fight.
* * * * * *
The elevator came to a stop as we jumped out and began firing our weapons at the lightly-armored guards at the large ground floor. Stepping up into the small, opened rooms around it, we sent senators flying across the room and into walls.
It was at this point that Seraphim lost his life.
A bullet hit his arm and knocked off the plating. I took up his position as Bozar picked him up, inadvertently using him as a shield for bulletfire and immediately dropping his corpse to the ground.
I tore the armor on the guard to shreds and opened Seraphim’s headpiece.
Staring up at both of us, he started talking. “I did something good. My ancestors would be proud. Now, I can join them. Goodbye, my friends. You have been invaluable companions.”
Looking up at Bozar, I nodded.
We jumped to our feet and reloaded our weapons as another open elevator landed in the middle of the war room’s bottom floor.
Atop it was a man in a huge set of powered armor, emblazened all over with the emblems of the Marine Corps and United States, as well as “BETTER DEAD THAN RED” painted on his stomach-plate. The monstrosity stood about 13” and carried what looked like a quad-barreled bozar in each hand.
“Hello, muties. The name’s Horrigan. Jonathon Horrigan. Pleased to meet you.” His voice was cold and shallow coming through his facemask.
“Fuck.” I said over the comms.
“Same here,” Bozar began, “But at least we die with honor.”
“I’m not after your commie friend. It’s your traitorous ass I want, 8-Ball.” He yelled at me.
Raising one of the quad-barelled guns, he literally tore every plate of armor off of Bozar’s body and left nothing but a pile of gore where the great warrior had once stood.
“Any last words?” Horrigan asked.
“Everyone I ever loved, held dear… knew…. All gone, because of you! You and your United Fucking States can kiss my ass!”
“Very well. Let’s get it on.”
“So be it.”
“So be it.”
He threw down one of his quad-barrels and used both hands to target me with the other one. I jumped to the side and avoided a blast of his shots which blew a computer to shreds. Aiming at his body, I emptied my MP31-L’s machinegun clip and fired three grenades. The walking horror seemed unhurt.
Aiming at the elevator control, I fired a shot and sent the thing flying up. After it was 50 meters in the air, I targeted the two lefthand cords and made the thing tip over, sending Jonnie smashing into the ground.
Taking advantage of the situation, I ran over and picked up the quad-barrel he’d tossed down, then shoved it in Jonnie’s face.
“Semper Fi!” He yelled out as the four barrels fired simultaneously and ripped his facemask to shreds.
I ran over to the console nearest me and engaged the nuclear warheads with the disk Claire had given me for a trajectory of going straight up, arming themselves, and going right back down.
I had ten minutes to get out. Running to Jonnie’s elevator, I jetted up to the wherever it would go, and that happened to be an enclosed vertibird hangar with a camoflauged door resting on the hillside. The hangar was a large area with at least ten vertibirds in it.
Jumping in the nearest vertibird, I engaged the comms to attempt to find the commander of the EC fighter wing, but he’d apparently been shot down. I jacked in with the second in command and warned him.
“GET OUT OF THERE! SHE’S GOING TO BLOW IN SEVEN!” I yelled.
The guy’s face seemed glad. “Finally, we get our asses out. Men, RETREAT!”
A couple of troopers barged into the hangar as my vertibird machineguns ripped apart their armors. I hacked into the hangar bay controls and opened the door, flying out and back towards Eurasia, or more specifically, what was left of England where the remnants of the Eurasian armies were ordered to return to.
Unfortunately, they wanted to tag along.
Identifying myself to the Eurasian\Southasian planes as friendly, I joined up with their wings and got ready for a fight.
Magnetizing my boots and stepping out on top of my ‘bird, I called for another one to join up with mine. As it came into view, I reached my hand into the the stolen vertibird, loaded the missiles, and cut the throttle. Jumping onto the adjacent ‘bird, I rolled towards the hatch and jumped inside, taking up a gunner position at a turret.
I heard a crash as the stolen ‘bird probably exploded in the midst of the Enclave fleet, wreaking havoc.
The gunners at my vertibird were interrupted by a priority-one transmission from the Admiral of the Eurasian Navy. “Prepare to engage Enclave fleet in naval\aerial battle.”
Our vertibirds swung around and began firing machine guns and missiles. I could see, in the distance ahead of our own, the U.S. Navy closing in on our position, its guns at the ready. The vast fleet consisted of too many ships to count, and I only hoped that Eurasia’s was as big, not being able to get a good look from my position.
I had to live. Had to get Timothy his requiem, Cale’s news of demise to his girlfriend, and Eurasia its birthright—to win over the Enclave.
The vertibird shook as an Enclave fighter spiraled into the sea, leaving a trail of flame behind it. I targeted the turret at nearby Enclave bomber, probably heading for the Eurasian fleet, and tore one of its gunner pods to shreds. My target shook and I proceded to shoot its hydraulics section and cockpit before turning to send an Enclave fighter smashing into it with a shot to its engines.
I looked around my own vertibird for a moment before we entered Enclave airspace. I was in a bomber with three pilots and six gunners. Before I knew it, I got knocked back into paying attention by some flak which got a little bit too close for comfort.
I fastened the green aiming reticule on another passing Enclave fighter, painted with “BETTER RED THAN DEAD” across its side. I fired a shot straight into the cockpit, igniting the eject module and sending the thing spinning, shooting its own cockpit down into the water at an enormous speed.
Hearing a loud explosion within the vertibird, I looked down at the unpadded floor to see a huge hole where the bubble turret used to be. The door to the cockpit automatically shut as all of us magnetized our boots.
Glancing yet again through the reticule, I caught a glimpse of a swarm of EC PT Boats swarming a small destroyer and ripping its hull to shreds with machinegun fire. The destroyer’s turrets frantically zoomed from PT Boat to PT Boat, occasionally firing off shots but always missing the darting PT’s.
As the destroyer ripped in half, I saw two completely un-armored crewmen get up on top and take out sniper rifles, obviously making some last-ditch attempt at sinking a PT Boat. Firing my turret, I sent off a volley of 20 tracer bullets. One of the crewmen was knocked overboard, but not hit. The other looked around in panic before being ripped to shreds by a PT machinegun.
I must admit, I felt sorry for them.
Somewhere else, I could see an EC cruiser with its rear up in the sky, slowly sinking into the water, powerless to even launch a lifeboat without having to drop it 70 feet into the water. A war was raging beneath my feet and I was powerless to stop it. All I could do was tap on the wall that was the Enclave Air Force. Even with the thousands of bombers all simultaneously tapping, we’d only ever barely scratch it.
At sea, the Eurasian Coalition was a tsunami rivaling the power of the Enclave.. At air, it was a paper airplane rivaling the power of a piece of crap.
Everything looked bad until we got the relieving message over the comms systems.
“East Asian Alliance forces are joining in! We have what’s left of China, Japan, Eastern Russia, Korea, every militant force in the area!” Came the joyful shout.
I heard the captain muttering that those were the nations that dropped the bombs on the U.S., but it was Eurasian assumption that the U.S. dropped the bombs first and the communist powers second.
Turning my turret, I saw in front of our vertibird a swarm of planes, most unpainted from their pre-war state and covered in red flags. The occasional one had markings on it, but for the most part nobody really cared. They were going to help us out, and we needed help.
As the arm of the Enclave made a right hook and turned around to combat the Eastasian forces, the crew of the vertibird got to shut the gaping hole at its underbelly. Grabbing magnetizing plates, we sealed the hole and demagnetized our boots.
Looking at the ground, I noticed that a piece of paper had apparently become stuck to my boot. Picking it up, I examined it and realized that it must have come from the large city at the thirteen colonies. The paper was a beautiful color, looking as if ripped from a journal of some sort. Finally, I actually got around to reading the damn thing.
theyll shoot me i dont care down with uncle sam theyll shoot me in the back of the neck always in the back of the neck they always shoot you in the back of the neck i dont care down with uncle sam
I never really found out what the hell it meant.
I dropped the note as the bomber jerked and began a descent towards the Enclave naval fleet. Re-manning my post, I began firing at PT Boats in the area, only ever managing to scrape their metal hulls.
Eventually, the bomber I was in began its run on a nearby attack cruiser. We started dropping 100kg bombs on the ship’s bulky exterior and set the command center aflame.
“Just how close are we to the Eastern Seaboard?” I asked the captain out of curiosity as we got in range to turn for our next run.
“About 200 miles.” He responded glumly.
“Pretty close.” I murmured under my breath.
“Like my wife.” The captain told me.
“Sorry to hear that…” I tried to comfort him amidst my own discomfort.
“Yeah, well it’s you bastards that annoy me. You think you have all the motivation and haven’t lost ANYBODY. You hear that? Huh?” The captain was losing it.
I wasn’t very happy with this. “Hey, look. We’ve all lost loved ones, and I’m no exception, okay? So don’t you be telling me about motivation.”
“And who do you think you are?” He asked in an angry tone.
Pissed, I gave him the full story. “The guy who jumped onto the vertibird. The guy who blew up the Eastern Seaboard. The guy who’d be as decorated as the legendary pre-war goddess Ma’arta S’tort’s house if there was a ceremonial chamber left in Eurasia.”
The captain laughed. “No, seriously, I believe you… but.. Ma’arta S’tort! BWAHAHAHAHA! It’s Hullory Kalyntin! Where did you learn a name like Ma’arta S’tort?” The comms clicked off.
Shaking my head, smiling at the whole pre-war polytheism routine, I was utterly taken by surprise when a flak blast tore everything behind me to shreds, leaving only the front half of the vertibird intact and its rear a big window with a nice view.
The vertibird spiraled out of control for about three miles until smashing into the water and inflating its floats. I could tell that it would only remain afloat for an hour, so I had to work quickly.
The cockpit of the ‘bird had crashed first and the water around it was turning red. No need to check. The gunners around me were all dead, and I had one last hope—to hijack a PT Boat.
Setting up my Enclave comms signals, I engaged my suit’s distress beacon and heard a triumphant “I’m on it” over all the radio chatter.
Sitting down and taking aim with my MP31-L, I got ready for the arrival of the ‘boat. As it changed from a dot in the horizon to an approaching object the size of a roach, I readied my weapon.
Firing a spray at the pilot’s seat, I sent him flying off the back of the white boat along with the co-driver. As it zoomed past, I jumped on the Boat and hacked into the controls.
I couldn’t have gone back to the battle. Getting through the Enclave defensive barrier would have been suicide. I had to head inland—again.
* * * * * *
As my PT Boat landed on the shore of the ruined cities, I took a look around me.
Rubble and corpses liberally strewn about. A stretching, bombed-out metropolis of the skeletons of buildings and people.
I was, and still am, very ashamed of what I had done to the eastern seaboard. But it was something that had to be done. Better than letting the Enclave rule the world.
And then the thought came to me. The thought that would ultimately ruin my morals.
If the Enclave can’t rule the world, who can? Why did we launch this last-ditch effort? To remove humanity from the face of the earth? To kill it off? At least with the Enclave, the race would survive and it wouldn’t have to pour money into military. People would live happily in a world without war.
And what we were doing would change that all.
I noticed through the back of my mind a sound. “Mr. Handy! He does EVERYTHING! New Enclave model available!”
Looking around me, I noticed a small, portable television.
I picked it up and took a look at the screen. “In news today: The United States of America survives the nuclear attack. The metropolis of the thirteen colonies has been wiped out, but Washington, D.C. and Uncle Sam are unharmed due to our highly-powered SDI defense network!”
The droning continued. “The president will now adress the nation.” An old man (whether he was old or not was debatable, but his hair was very white) covered in presidential regalia appeared on the screen and started talking. “The Eurasian swine have tried, yet again, to destroy America. This time around, they have joined forces with the pigs of Eastasia and have made an entirely futile attempt at hurting us. Do not be alarmed. With our capture of Oceania, we have placed special ICBM bases in Australia which will destroy the African military and kill what is left of the crippled Eurasia and Eastasia. The time for rejoicing is now!”
Dropping the television set to the ground, I looked around me for some sort of a car. My only hope was to take this car to Washington, D.C. and get rid of the small cabinet remaining there. After that, Oceania would probably rise to power and begin killing off the remnants of other nations.
The only hope was this previously-unknown “Africa.” There, the free world could cobble together its militant forces and cripple the military of Oceania.
But right now, none of that mattered. I didn’t care about the good of the human race. I wanted revenge.
I was going to kick the United States down to its knees and execute it with a shot to the back of the neck.
Hopefully, the Battle of the Pacific, which was raging at that very moment, would take care of the knee-kicking part for me.
Hopefully.
