A November Halo Story: Thieving from the Desert Part 1

Somewhere in Iran

 

There was great truth about the desert at night; the stars were unbelievable, even on a fast-moving electromagnetic train powered by a Tesla core, causing the military cars to have a bright humming blue to them. The train was small, only four cars long, with no one but military on it from Chamrosh’s Talons, some of the best warriors in the desert, ready to kill any foe standing in front of them if they landed on the train. There were fifty-four men on the train, and only one of them was not holding a weapon, ready to die for the great country of Iran.

                The train never slowed down, snaking through the desert, trying to find the northern board where the man who was not of Chamrosh was going to be handed off to the Germans. Doctor Aston Hatt had been kidnapped years ago by the Japanese Empire to build them a new tank for the upcoming wars they had planned. He had no choice but to build the tanks, which many failed, but the blueprints he carried now with him would change all of warfare.

                It was why the Germans sent one of their spies to get Doctor Hatt. The spies have died, but they got the good Doctor to Iran and on the train. Germany had paid a lot to Iran to get doctors to them, not merely for goods but for the future wars they were planning as well.

                Dr. Hatt glanced out the bulletproof window at the stars of the desert. He hadn’t seen the stars in a long time, gasping at the sight of them. He had been fed well, got new clothes, and, the greatest thing of all, got to have a hot bath.

                He didn’t like the Japanese. They were cruel to him, which was the reason he was missing a few fingers, teeth, and toes, but he was no longer under their rage. He was heading to a new place, which he hoped was better as long as he built the tanks for the Germans.

                He would build them for the Germans, except if they did one thing for him; use the tanks to kill all the Japs.

                “Doctor,” one of the officers said, pulling him from the windows before him. Dr. Hatt glanced up at the giant man, noting all of them were wearing gauntlets, pistols, a short sword on their back, and the gold of Chamrosh.

                “Sir?” Dr. Hatt asked.

                “Are you still comfortable?” He asked, grinning. “Would you like more goat?”

                “Oh, no, thank you,” Dr. Hatt said, padding his belly, “I’m full.”

                “Good,” the officer said, with both of them hearing a gunshot from the back of the car. They turned to look at the door, with the officer narrowing his eyes. More gunshots, and he started to move for the door, unsure what was going on when Dr. Hatt jumped up, pushing the man out of the way seconds before a green and silver blade stabbed him in the back.

                The officer spun on his heels as he fell against the wall and saw a ninja kicking Dr. Hatt back against the chair. The ninja spun the sword in the air, dashing for the officer, but he caught the sword with the gauntlets, heating the blade in a flash, breaking and sticking the claws of the gauntlets into the assassin’s face.

                “Stay down,” the officer was about to say, but a sword flashed, causing the man’s head to roll off his shoulder. His head went crashing to the floor while the blood poured out, and a ninja kicked his body over.

                Dr. Hatt gasped, grabbing the briefcase under his feet. He held it against his chest like a shield as the ninjas came strolling up to him, the sword still dripping with blood, while the ninjas took over the train.

                “Shouldn’t have left us, Doct - “The gunshot filled the train car with the bullet, kicking the ninja right in the chest and pushing a hole through him as if he were paper. Blood flew across the windows, and the ninja dropped to his knee dead.

                Dr. Hatt held the smoking gun, looked around to see no one else entering the train, and dashed for the front of the car. He knew there had to be a way off the train outside of jumping, which she would do if it came down.

                He got to the door opening when a blade waved at him, coming out of his chest. He tried to breathe, but the steel wouldn’t allow him to gasp for air. He looked back to see the ninja he killed holding the sword. There was a green fire in her dead eyes with the green wrapping around his black veins.

                “We are already dead, doctor,” he whispered. “Death means nothing to us.”

                Dr. Hatt fell forward, dropping the briefcase before the ninja picked it up. They left the train, leaving two assassins in each car, sitting bombs off, turning the cars into rolling fire. They fled back to the cars, waiting somewhere in the hidden sands. The ninjas handed over the briefcase to their master, a tall man with half his face hidden behind a skull mask. The Necromancer, keeping his dead assassins moving, cried out in pain as the Dead Magic bit back, fading from him. He grabbed his chest, crashing over on the ground while all the assassins crumbled in front of their master.

                “Damn,” he hissed, “back in the day, this would not have happened.” He looked at a young Japanese woman in a black and red devil costume. “We could keep the undead fighting for us for weeks.” He looked back at the dying man, whose heart was giving out from the magic, and there was no way of saving him.

                “But magic is dying,” he said, shaking his head, “taking so many with it.”

                “Damn shame isn’ it?” a thick Texan accent said from behind them. They both spun around to see the woman holding two pistols at them with her face covered with a red bandana and a cowboy hat. “But it makes robbin’ you folks a bit easier.”

Author's Note

Just messin' around