Invasion Wars 1: Crimes of War (7 page)

He was near a cargo bay, an abandoned forklift covered with bullets and rendered useless. It was too quiet for comfort, especially with the smell of cooked meat and gunpowder being strong in the air. Charred skeletons lay on the floor in numerous areas, the guns that weren’t melted by intense flames still intact on the floor near them. Emich bent down and reached for a still functioning FN4X assault rifle. Feeling that he was able to protect himself better, that feeling was crushed when a hand took him by the shirt and smashed him into a stack of large crates.

A fist hit him in the face hard enough for him to feel sleepy, the back of his head slamming into the metal behind him from the blow. Through the blur in his eyes, he could recognize a familiar overgrown beard and mullet. The trash man gave him another punch to the ribs, Emich feeling something break inside of him. Pulling the inmate off of the crates to rev up and slam him back into the metal, the FN4X was knocked out of his hands, clattering to the floor and out of reach. Emich took out the baton and jabbed it into the man’s chest, aiming for the heart.

He seemed to have missed, the blade plunging into his flesh and having him grunt in pain, but still stay standing. Holding him by the neck, the huge man hurled Emich across the cargo bay. His body collided with the forklift, hitting hard enough to topple it on its side and nearly have it roll over on top of him. Everything hurt inside his body and out, parts of his skin torn open and exposing the bone underneath. He saw that his hand was already healed over, his knuckles back to normal.

Making him feel a little better, he struggled to get up, his body fighting him for it. Grabbing the baton, the giant pulled it out and tossed it to the side, blood dripping down his dirty undershirt. He was a result of genetic engineering that was for sure. Replacing the parts of his brain that controlled speech and learning to make room for survival and endurance. Emich has dealt with them before during attacks on NDA camps, but this one was a more advanced and “updated” version.

Unlike the others, this one was able to keep himself from eating his fingers and walking into walls.

His boots pounded heavily on the floor, closing in on his dazed victim. The skin on the side of Emich’s head healed over as he flopped forward and rolled off of the ruined forklift, trying his best to stay on his feet. Fist up and ready for a fight, Emich waited for the giant to get close enough to throw the first punch. Taking one step, the genetically enhanced freak stopped in place. A laser sight danced along his chest, filling it with bullet holes wherever the dot touched.

Making their way up to his head, the last shot at the middle of his forehead was the one to drop him; the ash in the air blowing aside as he fell back onto the floor like a tree. Emich had no idea where the shots came from, and he didn’t want to know. Looking around and seeing nobody else in the room with them, he scurried over to the assault rifle and continued his escape, heading towards the double doors to the next area. Behind him, the laser sight fixed onto the middle of his back, its owner ready to pull the trigger. Stopping at the corner of the door to hug against it and press the button to open it, Emich glanced around, scanning the room for the previous shooter.

He couldn’t see her, but she could see him and now… she could see his face.

“Emich?”

Their voice couldn’t escape beyond the gas mask, no matter how loud they spoke. Once the doors whooshed open for him, Emich ran out of the cargo bay, the doors closing soon right after. The body of the giant gradually combusted, the flames growing and having plenty of fuel to burn through. Taking off her mask, Ashely still couldn’t believe her eyes. She felt as if she should run after him, but her comm unit had other plans.

“Ashley, come in.”

She stood there, speechless.

“Come in, Ashley Webber!”

Snapping back to reality, she turned around and put a hand to her ear piece. “Copy that, Ashley here.”

There was stray gunfire, with an ERA soldier pleading for his life before a close by gunshot stopped it.

“East wing has been cleared. Let us know if you make contact with any of our Saviors.”

Ashley closed her piercing blue eyes; a scar over the bridge of her nose. “Will do, my Seithr. Ashley out.”

Looking back at the door Emich had retreated from, she stood there for a second. Shaking her head, she put the gas mask back on and resumed her mission. Taking the other door to go towards the holding rooms for the experiments, she could already hear the screaming coming from the other side of the door. Reloading, she got her Z-140 filled and ready to resume the cleansing. Once the doors opened, she held down the trigger, keeping close to the wall and storming into the hall.

Emich found small dock with a few guards being completely oblivious to the chaos that was going on inside. One of them fell into the water, his blood clouding under him in the underground river. The other one sliding down the wall of a small checkpoint hut, leaving a trail of blood smeared against the concrete. Seeing that there was a small AVC for personal travel at the end of the dock, Emich pressed the button on it to lift the anchor, having it rock from the slight current of the water. Turning on the hovercraft and firing up its boosters, the boat lifted out of the water.

He left the facility for good… but what happened to him there would never leave his mind.

Chapter 5

“Valerie, connect me with the UAC.”

“Of course, sir.”

Sitting down in his antique leather throne in a hurry, Demeitri Kuznetsov put a hand over his lips. His personal assistant tapped away on her wrist screen, typing at a speed Demeitri couldn’t even bother to achieve. She could connect him to the UAC and get through all of its security measures in her sleep, having done it so many times ever since she started working there. She was always told to have been a model instead, having the figure and the looks to be featured on the latest advertisements, due to her strict diet and her face never being under a knife. The beauty mark on the left side of her lower lip–and her naturally red hair that was always braided on both sides–made her even more desired to be up on the billboards.

Demeitri used to live that life, being the same way — as if he was sculpted for display in an art gallery. It wasn’t too long ago; him being the owner of Sindri Corporation for five years now and barely hitting thirty the previous month. The other members of the United American Congress never tell him about their meetings. If it wasn’t for the informate organization he hired, that has a network of spies within everyone else's mainframes, he would never be able to get there in time and put in his vote. It didn’t mean much to them, but it meant the world to Demeitri.

Ever since the attack on Mars, having a part in deciding today meant more than anything.

“Lit Electronics seems to be in the middle of a speech, sir,” Valerie said in her soft voice. Adjusting her digi-glasses nervously, she always worried about Demeitri scolding her for asking first. Thankfully, her well chiseled face was able to stay stone stiff after him showing his temper plenty of times prior.

Demeitri sat back in his throne, looking off to the side at one of his prized stuffed grizzly bears — a long lost treasure that was worth more money than he could bother hearing the price of. Switching his crossed legs, he nodded and swished a hand towards the holosphere in the center of his office. “Go right ahead, my dear. It’s probably something useless like power shortages or whatever hoo-haa he likes to go on about theses days.”

“Of course. Patching you in now.” Pressing the last button and closing her wrist screen with the ball of a fist, a strange grin escaped her plump lips. “I’ll be here, awaiting orders.”

Demeitri shifted his head to the side as the screen flickered to life, the digital cubes arranging themselves to create a line up of emblems — one for each corporation attending the special meeting. His silk suit was not needed–since he wouldn’t be shown–but he wouldn’t be caught dead without his typical appearance. Being the sole owner of one of the most essential businesses in the entire world meant he had to be respected, both how he portrayed his company and more importantly: how he portrayed himself. The emblem for Lit Electronics was at the center, enlarged and blinking to show that it was them on the “stage”. The aged female voice spoke slowly and with all of the time in the world. It took her a while before she noticed the new emblem appearing on her side.

“... We are in the middle of developing shields capable of deflecting human weapons, but we don’t have the capabilities of producing any that can protect entire cities, nor ones that can withstand Niflheim engineered weaponry for that matter. Converting our resources to focus on such achievements is not only undesirable but also unavailing. And furthermore — oh, Sindri… how unexpected for you to appear at this meeting.”

“I’m just here to enjoy the chatter,” Demeitri said with an eyebrow raised. “Don’t mind me. Continue on about all the things you can never do and making excuses for each and every one of them.”

“Such comments are not appreciated, Sindri,” the spokesperson for Lit Electronics scolded.

“Someone get this joker out of here,” the speaker for Nybling Bank interrupted. His voice fast and booming out in a loud growl. It was all during a quick exhale, making it known that whoever was talking was a smoker.

Demeitri knew exactly who it was, looking to the side to hide his scoff. “I’m allowed to be here, Childebrand.” He got up, walking over to stand before his desk. “I’m guessing you forgot all about the fact that I am a part of this congress, not by accident of course. So… what did I miss?”

“How dare you use my personal name during a meeting. I’ll have your head for this!”

Demeitri leaned back on his fine wooden desk, amused that he was able to push Childebrand’s buttons so easily.

The commander and chief himself, Harold Marr, was attending the meeting. It’s usually only when something involves world changing decisions. Representing the UAM, his emblem took the front. “Instantly denied, Nybling Bank. Sindri, now that you are here, maybe we can direct our attention towards you… if we haven’t already.”

“But this doesn’t concern a weapon’s dealer,” the female representative of GALAR Entertainment protested. Her voice was that of a voice actress, able to change to each of the extremes, sounding more grouse than anyone Demeitri has met in real life. They change them so often, it’s a new girl or man every meeting.

“I have to disagree, GALAR,” Commander Marr said sternly. “Sindri has given the UAM it’s one and only means of fighting off the Niflheim so far. And even though Sindri gives it to everyone in the world, that doesn’t not mean it's a company we should exclude from our current meeting, which involves the Niflheim.”

Demeitri’s eyes light up, which was a rare occurrence. “The Niflheim, you say. Well, well, well. This explains everything now. I am not involved because I am the most involved, is that it?”

“Untrue, Sindri,” Lit said, before anyone else could. “That is simply untrue. You are not required to attend because there are no changes that you can supply to the war effort. You have no call in any plans, no way of effecting civil or militant decisions. There is no reason for you to attend other than being an observer.”

Crossing his arms, Demeitri looked up at the line of emblems with his head cocked to the side. “Usually… that is the case. But what if I told you that I have something in development that could change everything as you know it. Something that could make all of this negative hoo-haa more useless than it already is.”

“You have the floor, Sindri,” Commander Marr said welcomely. “Let’s hear it.”

Demeitri held up a hand, each one of his fingers with a special ring that he doesn’t let out of his sight. “Now, it’s not finished… but it will be once we reach a certain stage in development. I have a new suit in the making, one that will turn every battle with the Niflheim from defensive, to offensive.”

An obnoxious voice took the floor, coming from The Wesleydale Web. “Ha! This is no time for jokes, Sindri. The Trident War was two years ago and average repairs around the world are not even at 50% completion. Check out these numbers, smart guy. Economical loss of ERA: 37% of its treasury due to damages. Economical loss of NDA: 85% of its ‘known’ treasury due to damages. Economical loss of UA: 42.5% of its treasury due to damages, with only 13% growth back per year with a plus 3% increase. There is no way any of the world’s factions could ever have the funds for an offensive, especially one that is all the way to Mars!”

“That is because you don’t know about my new creation, Wesleydale. I am creating a new class of Exoframe, one that will surpass all other classes and make them obsolete. If it passes the testing phase, it will allow us to compete with the Niflheim and it will even be powerful enough to turn the tide of battle towards their direction and allow us to destroy their world for a change. This new invention is going to be our key to victory, as well as less numbers for Wesleydale to yammer on about.”

The representer for Leafburg Medical spoke before anyone else could, having been a listener the entire meeting before Demeitri’s arrival. He spoke with authority, like he lived his life as a police officer before becoming the speaker of the biggest medical and pharmaceutical business in the world. “It’s your call, Commander Marr. Sindri is under your department of influence. The rest of us have no say in it.”

“I still rule for a change in that,” Childebrand coughed out. “All in favor?”

The emblem of the UAM took the middle before anyone else could react. “Denied, Nybling. Sindri, if what you say is true, then you have my attention. All of these other preparations would be less stressful if you could, in fact, do what you are promising. Do you give your word that you will be able to achieve such an improbable task?”

Demeitri crossed his heart elegantly, as if they can see him. “I haven’t failed you before and I don’t plan on doing so now. I give you my word, commander, that if my invention passes the development phase, it will be able to do everything I said it will do.”