[FIC] Whispered Reign (pt. 3)
Posted: Tue Jul 13, 2004 3:21 pm
Whispered Reign: Part 3
Same Time
Caribbean Sea
Off the coast of the smaller U.S. Virgin Islands
A U.S. cargo ship was sailing towards a U.S. naval base after receiving the all clear from the operator. The ship navigates closer to dock at the port and unload its cargo as scheduled. It was routine; the ship docks at the base, which doubles as an AS production facility, every week to deliver AS parts. The proud United States of America had recently begun to purchase mass-produced M9s and developing their own versions. After all, they were the police of the world. And they needed to flex their military muscle to compensate for the humiliation from Mithril’s TDD-1.
The ship docked and the cranes unloaded the cargo. Not a hair was out of place. Three M6A3 ‘Bushnell’s were guarding the cargo shipment as they were being unloaded.
“Alpha 3 to Alpha 5. Do you copy? Over.”
“Alpha 5 here. What is it? Over”
“Hey, Ted. I’m planning on transferring over to Guantanamo Bay. At least they might get some action from the troubles Cuban drug lords cause. What do you think? Over.”
“What!? You wanna transfer out of a top secret base. Now that’s a first. Over.”
“Yeah, man. All we do here is baby-sitting. There’s no action at all.”
“We get paid for doing nothing at all. What’s wrong with that? At least I’ll get to retire in one piece.”
“Let me ask you- What did you join the force for? Cause we get to shoot some terrorists. We get to serve the country. Tell me, how am I serving the country like this?”
The conversation between the two AS pilots was interrupted by a rough dry voice:
“By shutting up and staying in line. Alpha 1 to squad. No unnecessary conversation. Stick to radio silence. Over.”
The cargo ship had nearly finished unloading, a triangular head surfaced on the east side of the dock. Then, the rest of the body emerged from the water and climbed onto the dock. And another climbed onto the dock.
They were obviously ASes, but a type the U.S. forces have seen only once. The ASes had triangular heads and a horn on the forehead. The body was shaped like an over-turned pyramid. They were the new Russian-made models, Shadow.
The ASes began their siege and concentrated on destroying the U.S. ASes first before moving on to other targets. The alarms went off as loud explosions filled the base. All troops got into their positions, their commanders shouting orders for them to counter-attack.
“Bravo 1 to all available units. We are under attack from hostile forces on the east side of the dock. Requesting AS support. Over.” Gunfire and explosions could be heard over the radio.
“Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. What is your SITREP? Over.”
“This is Bravo 1. Multiple ASes armed with 37 mm rifles. Two Abrams have been destroyed. Charlie platoon is…” There was a quick ‘shizz’ sound, some screaming and then static.
“Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. Please respond. Over.” There was no answer and he repeated his message. “Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. Please respond, god damn it.”
“Shit. Alpha 1 to squad. Regroup on my position then we’ll move out to east side of dock. GO GO GO!”
“Alpha 5 to Alpha 3. Look. You got your battle. You happy? Over.”
“Bring it on… Yeah.”
Three more M6A3 joined the ASes guarding the shipment and started to converge on the enemy’s position. There was only two enemy ASes. With Delta team which consists of three M9s already closing in on the enemy, Alpha team would most probably just see wreckages of the enemy when they get there. But they were curious, however. How did the enemy manage to approach the base without being detected by the radar?
When they had their backs facing the cargo containers, a door was blown off. A flash, sound of a cannon fire and the sound of armor piercing round ripping through reinforced titanium; one AS keeled over and crashed to the concrete. A hole was strategically placed through the cockpit.
The remaining ASes turned around to face the direction of the attack. They could make out a humanoid shape within the container. Another door blew off. And another. And another. Four more doors were blown open in quick succession and almost immediately, 37 mm rounds showered Alpha team.
Only one AS was still standing after that vicious attack. It was Alpha leader, Alpha 1. The M6A3 rotated its head left and right to see its fallen comrades ripped apart by bullet holes or in pieces. The pilot could not believe what he was seeing. His men whom he has served with for so long, an elite group of soldiers, were now as lifeless as the AS they pilot.
His rage spurring him on, he lifted his rifle and did the battle cry. He aimed at the container in the middle. The only AS with one red eye. And he pulled the trigger.
He emptied his magazine into the container. Funny, the other ASes; why did they not shoot him and get it over with? He had already destroyed one of their AS. Why are they not reacting? He dropped his gun and waited for fate to return him to his Creator. At least he had managed to do away with one of the ASes.
Wait. The red light was as bright as ever. The AS walked slowly out of the container, undamaged. Not even scratched. It stood in the light, allowing the doomed pilot to digest the last image he would ever see. Red in color, its head was shaped like a diamond with big shoulder guard; there was no mistake in assuming that this was a Venom. But it had four lenses surrounding the single red eye. Perhaps it was a newer model.
In any case, the squad leader could not care anymore. The Venom had raised its hand and positioned it over the cockpit. A bright silent flash had frozen the Bushnell for a couple of seconds before it exploded into a glorious ball of gold flames.
The Shadows followed silently behind the Venom as it strolled right into the heart of the base. There was an air of arrogance about the way the Venom walked. Giving out hand signals, the two ASes tailing him went to help their comrades battling at the east of the dock.
Two armored vehicles rolled out of the last container packed full of insurgents dressed in tactical gear. As soon as the vehicles stopped, a small battalion began to storm the buildings, clearing them out one by one. Flashes of light could be seen from the windows accompanied by machine-gun fire.
“Courage 4 to Courage 1. We’ve taken care of the M9s. But erm… Rayhan’s AS’s right leg is no more…”
“No names over the radio!!” a voice hissed back at him.
“Sorry. Err… Courage 5 lost a right leg. Please advice. Over.”
The reporting pilot could hear the voice on the other side sigh.
“Set him in the middle of the base. Lean him on that building over there.”
The pilot replied an affirmative and relayed the message to the ASes around his own. They proceeded to lift the damaged Shadow and relocated him to the given destination.
The Venom walked up towards the damaged AS and crouched to inspect the damage. The pilot deduced that the AS will not be able to sustain movement much longer.
“Courage 5. Are you alright?”
“Yes. No broken bones.”
Another transmission came in from the ground squad. “We’ve secured the targets. Over.”
“Good. Now, I’ll need to talk to Echelon 1,” the pilot of the Venom answered smugly. He then flipped a switch on his panel to speak to his superior, his brother. Omar. “Courage 1 to Echelon 1. We have secured the targets. Over.”
“Daemite is coming over with the last target. She should be arriving in a couple of hours.” Omar answered from his positions in Malta. “So, my Whispered brother, how is your first try at AS piloting?”
“Pretty good, actually.”
“Then I can leave it to you to destroy the Arbalest?”
“Affirmative.”
“Just try to leave the boy alive. He doesn’t deserve a quick death.”
“As you say.”
************
************
A few hours earlier.
Miami, Florida, U.S.A.
Mrs. Robert was sitting on a bench in a field watching the children playing under the hot sun. It was a Little League baseball game that afternoon and parents were around to cheer for their children. Her own child was there playing with the other kids. She could hear the coach commending his team for good teamwork.
Crack! That was the sound of the baseball meeting the bat at high velocity.
The ball flew well out of the field bouncing on the grass. The batter had hit a home run.
After the game was over, the batter that scored the winning point ran towards his mother, Mrs. Robert, waving his arms in joy. The single parent picked up her son and gave him endless words of praises.
Clad in a black leather jacket along with a young face, she didn’t look at all like a single parent, much less a person of power. But there were always a few men following her around.
Her cell phone rang and she set her kid down to answer the call.
“Daemite. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry to bother you. I understand that your son is having a baseball game? How did it go?”
“No problem, Omar. He scored the winning point. Isn’t that great?” One could practically hear the pride in her voice.
“Absolutely. Well, you’d better take care of that Whispered son of yours. He is the future of humanity.”
“Sure.”
She turned to the men following her and gave a few short instructions before turning to her son.
“Honey, mommy has to go work. Be good, okay?”
Putting on his saddest face, Johnny whined “Now? But we haven’t celebrated the victory yet.”
“I know, honey. I promise we will as soon as I get back, okay? You just follow Nathaniel here. He’ll take you home.”
“Alright…”
Nathaniel, a man who looked like he could kill someone with his thumb, smiled at Johnny and said “Don’t worry, Johnny. We can skip your homework and go play while your mommy’s not here.”
Mrs. Robert or Daemite scowled at Nathaniel and he stopped laughing immediately. He was well aware that she could break his neck just as easily.
She hopped onto her super bike and sped off but not before waving goodbye to her little boy. Two black vans parked nearby trailed her trying to keep up with her speed.
Swooping in and out of traffic, she was riding her bike like a fugitive running from the cops. The two black vans behind her did not attempt to match her break neck speed. Instead, they drove at an acceptable velocity.
She stopped at a boat yard and got off her bike. Pushing her helmet visor up, she put a binoculars to her eyes to look at a yacht. The words painted on the side of the yacht said ‘Charlotte’. There was a middle-aged Latino man and a very attractive young woman on board that ship, drinking wine and having a nice time. He was rubbing her exposed lap and she let him; both pretended that the bodyguards weren’t there.
The vans finally arrived and the occupants got out of the vehicle and jogged towards Daemite. Armed with MP-5s with suppressors, ski masks covering their faces, sporting Kevlar, an amateur might just mistake them for the SWAT team. They stopped behind Daemite, waiting for their orders.
“Wait for the first gunshot before coming in. Do not move before then,” she spoke sternly and got onto her bike again, pulling down the visor.
Revving up the engine, she accelerated her bike towards a ramp. Not even slowing down, she hit the ramp and her bike went into a summersault in midair. On the second spin, she got off her bike letting it fall into the port side of the yacht. Like in a Matrix movie, she pulled out two pistols and began shooting before she even touched the floor of the yacht.
The masked men began to pour onto the yacht, disarming the bodyguards and killing those who would not surrender their weapon. The man was shouting and the woman was screaming like in a horror flick. It was over in thirty seconds. The couple was threatened at gunpoint to be silent and the bodyguards were herded into the cabin.
“Vice Admiral Rajendran of the Mithril’s Operations Department, would you please come with me?” a muffled voice of Daemite spoke.
“I’m not him. Y… You have the wrong person. What is Mithril? I… I’ve never heard of it,” the man stuttered.
“I don’t have time to play games. If you’re not him, then I’ll have no use of you.”
“Wait! H… how… how did you know my identity?”
“Then you admit that you are the Vice Admiral? Take him away, boys.”
One soldier clubbed the back of the Vice Admiral’s head and dragged him out of the boat, Daemite walking in front to show him the way to their escape car.
“What about the mistress and the rest of the bodyguards?” another soldier questioned.
“….. Kill them all.”
************
************
2012 Hours (New York Standard Time)
U.S. base on the smaller Virgin Islands
The Venom and the Shadows were on guard watching the horizons all set to attack when Mithril ASes get here. High ranking officers were assembled in a hall in the command building.
The Venom would be enough to prompt Mithril to assault them but Mithril would allow U.S. to initiate the first attack. After all, they are holding U.S. officers hostage, not Mithril’s officers. Which is exactly why they needed to kidnap Vice Admiral Rajendran. Mithril must be made desperate enough to begin the first assault. They had a surprise ready for Mithril.
The low hum of a motorboat could be heard and some soldiers directed the spotlights towards the direction. There was a woman on board, a tied and gagged man, and a soldier navigating the boat. A superior recognized the pretty face on the woman and told his men to stand down. They got onto the dock and headed for the command building.
“Daemite. I was wondering when you’d get here,” the Venom pilot said after hopping out of his AS.
“Shut up, Jaafar. You have no idea how bad it is to change transportation so many times.”
“Ooo… Feisty. Look, lighten up. We have the Mithril officer. That’s good news.”
“I got pulled from my son’s baseball team victory celebration. What is so important about him anyway?”
“Hold on. Hey, you. Get him in with the rest and then set the C4.” He pointed at the command building. “We want Mithril to attack first. Then, we’ll ambush the Arbalest and destroy it, removing our most significant threat.”
“That still doesn’t explain why we need Mithril to attack first.”
“Because… we will only destroy the Arbalest leaving the rest. Then, we’ll pull out and detonate the C4. Mithril will be blamed for the death of half a dozen high-ranking U.S. officers.”
“There’s flaw in your plan. Mithril tries to help and fails. Why should the U.S. blame them?”
“Why should Mithril interfere in a U.S. affair? The U.S. should be given a chance to rescue their officers first. We intend to put a wedge between these two forces. I’m only telling you this because you have a destined leader in your care.”
“I see… I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“It’s alright. You’re tired. I’ll arrange for a private jet to be ready by morning. You don’t have to stay here like my brother said. Go get a hotel or something. The company is paying.”
“Thanks. And I really appreciate what you are doing for my son,” Daemite expressed her gratitude before leaving.
“Now, we wait for Mithril…” Jaafar spoke under his breath.
Got out of hand. The bad guy part was supposed to be short... Dunno what went wrong. Probably being the bad guy is nicer.
Same Time
Caribbean Sea
Off the coast of the smaller U.S. Virgin Islands
A U.S. cargo ship was sailing towards a U.S. naval base after receiving the all clear from the operator. The ship navigates closer to dock at the port and unload its cargo as scheduled. It was routine; the ship docks at the base, which doubles as an AS production facility, every week to deliver AS parts. The proud United States of America had recently begun to purchase mass-produced M9s and developing their own versions. After all, they were the police of the world. And they needed to flex their military muscle to compensate for the humiliation from Mithril’s TDD-1.
The ship docked and the cranes unloaded the cargo. Not a hair was out of place. Three M6A3 ‘Bushnell’s were guarding the cargo shipment as they were being unloaded.
“Alpha 3 to Alpha 5. Do you copy? Over.”
“Alpha 5 here. What is it? Over”
“Hey, Ted. I’m planning on transferring over to Guantanamo Bay. At least they might get some action from the troubles Cuban drug lords cause. What do you think? Over.”
“What!? You wanna transfer out of a top secret base. Now that’s a first. Over.”
“Yeah, man. All we do here is baby-sitting. There’s no action at all.”
“We get paid for doing nothing at all. What’s wrong with that? At least I’ll get to retire in one piece.”
“Let me ask you- What did you join the force for? Cause we get to shoot some terrorists. We get to serve the country. Tell me, how am I serving the country like this?”
The conversation between the two AS pilots was interrupted by a rough dry voice:
“By shutting up and staying in line. Alpha 1 to squad. No unnecessary conversation. Stick to radio silence. Over.”
The cargo ship had nearly finished unloading, a triangular head surfaced on the east side of the dock. Then, the rest of the body emerged from the water and climbed onto the dock. And another climbed onto the dock.
They were obviously ASes, but a type the U.S. forces have seen only once. The ASes had triangular heads and a horn on the forehead. The body was shaped like an over-turned pyramid. They were the new Russian-made models, Shadow.
The ASes began their siege and concentrated on destroying the U.S. ASes first before moving on to other targets. The alarms went off as loud explosions filled the base. All troops got into their positions, their commanders shouting orders for them to counter-attack.
“Bravo 1 to all available units. We are under attack from hostile forces on the east side of the dock. Requesting AS support. Over.” Gunfire and explosions could be heard over the radio.
“Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. What is your SITREP? Over.”
“This is Bravo 1. Multiple ASes armed with 37 mm rifles. Two Abrams have been destroyed. Charlie platoon is…” There was a quick ‘shizz’ sound, some screaming and then static.
“Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. Please respond. Over.” There was no answer and he repeated his message. “Alpha 1 to Bravo 1. Please respond, god damn it.”
“Shit. Alpha 1 to squad. Regroup on my position then we’ll move out to east side of dock. GO GO GO!”
“Alpha 5 to Alpha 3. Look. You got your battle. You happy? Over.”
“Bring it on… Yeah.”
Three more M6A3 joined the ASes guarding the shipment and started to converge on the enemy’s position. There was only two enemy ASes. With Delta team which consists of three M9s already closing in on the enemy, Alpha team would most probably just see wreckages of the enemy when they get there. But they were curious, however. How did the enemy manage to approach the base without being detected by the radar?
When they had their backs facing the cargo containers, a door was blown off. A flash, sound of a cannon fire and the sound of armor piercing round ripping through reinforced titanium; one AS keeled over and crashed to the concrete. A hole was strategically placed through the cockpit.
The remaining ASes turned around to face the direction of the attack. They could make out a humanoid shape within the container. Another door blew off. And another. And another. Four more doors were blown open in quick succession and almost immediately, 37 mm rounds showered Alpha team.
Only one AS was still standing after that vicious attack. It was Alpha leader, Alpha 1. The M6A3 rotated its head left and right to see its fallen comrades ripped apart by bullet holes or in pieces. The pilot could not believe what he was seeing. His men whom he has served with for so long, an elite group of soldiers, were now as lifeless as the AS they pilot.
His rage spurring him on, he lifted his rifle and did the battle cry. He aimed at the container in the middle. The only AS with one red eye. And he pulled the trigger.
He emptied his magazine into the container. Funny, the other ASes; why did they not shoot him and get it over with? He had already destroyed one of their AS. Why are they not reacting? He dropped his gun and waited for fate to return him to his Creator. At least he had managed to do away with one of the ASes.
Wait. The red light was as bright as ever. The AS walked slowly out of the container, undamaged. Not even scratched. It stood in the light, allowing the doomed pilot to digest the last image he would ever see. Red in color, its head was shaped like a diamond with big shoulder guard; there was no mistake in assuming that this was a Venom. But it had four lenses surrounding the single red eye. Perhaps it was a newer model.
In any case, the squad leader could not care anymore. The Venom had raised its hand and positioned it over the cockpit. A bright silent flash had frozen the Bushnell for a couple of seconds before it exploded into a glorious ball of gold flames.
The Shadows followed silently behind the Venom as it strolled right into the heart of the base. There was an air of arrogance about the way the Venom walked. Giving out hand signals, the two ASes tailing him went to help their comrades battling at the east of the dock.
Two armored vehicles rolled out of the last container packed full of insurgents dressed in tactical gear. As soon as the vehicles stopped, a small battalion began to storm the buildings, clearing them out one by one. Flashes of light could be seen from the windows accompanied by machine-gun fire.
“Courage 4 to Courage 1. We’ve taken care of the M9s. But erm… Rayhan’s AS’s right leg is no more…”
“No names over the radio!!” a voice hissed back at him.
“Sorry. Err… Courage 5 lost a right leg. Please advice. Over.”
The reporting pilot could hear the voice on the other side sigh.
“Set him in the middle of the base. Lean him on that building over there.”
The pilot replied an affirmative and relayed the message to the ASes around his own. They proceeded to lift the damaged Shadow and relocated him to the given destination.
The Venom walked up towards the damaged AS and crouched to inspect the damage. The pilot deduced that the AS will not be able to sustain movement much longer.
“Courage 5. Are you alright?”
“Yes. No broken bones.”
Another transmission came in from the ground squad. “We’ve secured the targets. Over.”
“Good. Now, I’ll need to talk to Echelon 1,” the pilot of the Venom answered smugly. He then flipped a switch on his panel to speak to his superior, his brother. Omar. “Courage 1 to Echelon 1. We have secured the targets. Over.”
“Daemite is coming over with the last target. She should be arriving in a couple of hours.” Omar answered from his positions in Malta. “So, my Whispered brother, how is your first try at AS piloting?”
“Pretty good, actually.”
“Then I can leave it to you to destroy the Arbalest?”
“Affirmative.”
“Just try to leave the boy alive. He doesn’t deserve a quick death.”
“As you say.”
************
************
A few hours earlier.
Miami, Florida, U.S.A.
Mrs. Robert was sitting on a bench in a field watching the children playing under the hot sun. It was a Little League baseball game that afternoon and parents were around to cheer for their children. Her own child was there playing with the other kids. She could hear the coach commending his team for good teamwork.
Crack! That was the sound of the baseball meeting the bat at high velocity.
The ball flew well out of the field bouncing on the grass. The batter had hit a home run.
After the game was over, the batter that scored the winning point ran towards his mother, Mrs. Robert, waving his arms in joy. The single parent picked up her son and gave him endless words of praises.
Clad in a black leather jacket along with a young face, she didn’t look at all like a single parent, much less a person of power. But there were always a few men following her around.
Her cell phone rang and she set her kid down to answer the call.
“Daemite. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Sorry to bother you. I understand that your son is having a baseball game? How did it go?”
“No problem, Omar. He scored the winning point. Isn’t that great?” One could practically hear the pride in her voice.
“Absolutely. Well, you’d better take care of that Whispered son of yours. He is the future of humanity.”
“Sure.”
She turned to the men following her and gave a few short instructions before turning to her son.
“Honey, mommy has to go work. Be good, okay?”
Putting on his saddest face, Johnny whined “Now? But we haven’t celebrated the victory yet.”
“I know, honey. I promise we will as soon as I get back, okay? You just follow Nathaniel here. He’ll take you home.”
“Alright…”
Nathaniel, a man who looked like he could kill someone with his thumb, smiled at Johnny and said “Don’t worry, Johnny. We can skip your homework and go play while your mommy’s not here.”
Mrs. Robert or Daemite scowled at Nathaniel and he stopped laughing immediately. He was well aware that she could break his neck just as easily.
She hopped onto her super bike and sped off but not before waving goodbye to her little boy. Two black vans parked nearby trailed her trying to keep up with her speed.
Swooping in and out of traffic, she was riding her bike like a fugitive running from the cops. The two black vans behind her did not attempt to match her break neck speed. Instead, they drove at an acceptable velocity.
She stopped at a boat yard and got off her bike. Pushing her helmet visor up, she put a binoculars to her eyes to look at a yacht. The words painted on the side of the yacht said ‘Charlotte’. There was a middle-aged Latino man and a very attractive young woman on board that ship, drinking wine and having a nice time. He was rubbing her exposed lap and she let him; both pretended that the bodyguards weren’t there.
The vans finally arrived and the occupants got out of the vehicle and jogged towards Daemite. Armed with MP-5s with suppressors, ski masks covering their faces, sporting Kevlar, an amateur might just mistake them for the SWAT team. They stopped behind Daemite, waiting for their orders.
“Wait for the first gunshot before coming in. Do not move before then,” she spoke sternly and got onto her bike again, pulling down the visor.
Revving up the engine, she accelerated her bike towards a ramp. Not even slowing down, she hit the ramp and her bike went into a summersault in midair. On the second spin, she got off her bike letting it fall into the port side of the yacht. Like in a Matrix movie, she pulled out two pistols and began shooting before she even touched the floor of the yacht.
The masked men began to pour onto the yacht, disarming the bodyguards and killing those who would not surrender their weapon. The man was shouting and the woman was screaming like in a horror flick. It was over in thirty seconds. The couple was threatened at gunpoint to be silent and the bodyguards were herded into the cabin.
“Vice Admiral Rajendran of the Mithril’s Operations Department, would you please come with me?” a muffled voice of Daemite spoke.
“I’m not him. Y… You have the wrong person. What is Mithril? I… I’ve never heard of it,” the man stuttered.
“I don’t have time to play games. If you’re not him, then I’ll have no use of you.”
“Wait! H… how… how did you know my identity?”
“Then you admit that you are the Vice Admiral? Take him away, boys.”
One soldier clubbed the back of the Vice Admiral’s head and dragged him out of the boat, Daemite walking in front to show him the way to their escape car.
“What about the mistress and the rest of the bodyguards?” another soldier questioned.
“….. Kill them all.”
************
************
2012 Hours (New York Standard Time)
U.S. base on the smaller Virgin Islands
The Venom and the Shadows were on guard watching the horizons all set to attack when Mithril ASes get here. High ranking officers were assembled in a hall in the command building.
The Venom would be enough to prompt Mithril to assault them but Mithril would allow U.S. to initiate the first attack. After all, they are holding U.S. officers hostage, not Mithril’s officers. Which is exactly why they needed to kidnap Vice Admiral Rajendran. Mithril must be made desperate enough to begin the first assault. They had a surprise ready for Mithril.
The low hum of a motorboat could be heard and some soldiers directed the spotlights towards the direction. There was a woman on board, a tied and gagged man, and a soldier navigating the boat. A superior recognized the pretty face on the woman and told his men to stand down. They got onto the dock and headed for the command building.
“Daemite. I was wondering when you’d get here,” the Venom pilot said after hopping out of his AS.
“Shut up, Jaafar. You have no idea how bad it is to change transportation so many times.”
“Ooo… Feisty. Look, lighten up. We have the Mithril officer. That’s good news.”
“I got pulled from my son’s baseball team victory celebration. What is so important about him anyway?”
“Hold on. Hey, you. Get him in with the rest and then set the C4.” He pointed at the command building. “We want Mithril to attack first. Then, we’ll ambush the Arbalest and destroy it, removing our most significant threat.”
“That still doesn’t explain why we need Mithril to attack first.”
“Because… we will only destroy the Arbalest leaving the rest. Then, we’ll pull out and detonate the C4. Mithril will be blamed for the death of half a dozen high-ranking U.S. officers.”
“There’s flaw in your plan. Mithril tries to help and fails. Why should the U.S. blame them?”
“Why should Mithril interfere in a U.S. affair? The U.S. should be given a chance to rescue their officers first. We intend to put a wedge between these two forces. I’m only telling you this because you have a destined leader in your care.”
“I see… I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
“It’s alright. You’re tired. I’ll arrange for a private jet to be ready by morning. You don’t have to stay here like my brother said. Go get a hotel or something. The company is paying.”
“Thanks. And I really appreciate what you are doing for my son,” Daemite expressed her gratitude before leaving.
“Now, we wait for Mithril…” Jaafar spoke under his breath.
Got out of hand. The bad guy part was supposed to be short... Dunno what went wrong. Probably being the bad guy is nicer.