The Fallen Chapter 1

       

          “Mr. Andrews you look rather frail I must say”, the anonymous voice began into the intercom awaking Christopher cuffed behind the feeble wooden chair with two guards aiming M-16’s unswervingly towards his head.                                   

Black-and-blue and tainted desiccated blood covered his face, forcing his head up to the recording camera hooked above the front wall.                       

“You believe these interrogations will give you answers”.

“Not quite entirely, but I do want to know you better”. The deeply calm speaker continued his questioning.

“What is your story Mr. Andrews?”

“I’m an ex-marine assigned to one and only mission. Protect. The rest is not applicable for you to know”.

“That is all. Pity I was hoping to be educated from your background”.

“Well I guess if your hoping for more then sign me up for my next appointment doc”, Christopher sarcastically replied.

“Ha-ha, I admire your pride, but it takes more arrogance to salvage the lives of your people”.

“And what’s your say in this, genocide over innocence, war over peace. That’s not an option in my book”.

“No, but to prove that mankind grows weak and gives in to the man with authority, just pointless beings starving for mercy. It’s a test of the mind, similar to a virus”.

“You’re insane”.

“Crazy carries a broad definition, but the word mastermind perfectly matches a man who defied all barriers”.  Christopher skewed his head in despair, while the sweat of his brows poured upon his orange convict jumpsuit.

“Tell me this Mr. Andrews, if you had the chance to avenge hope would you take the offer”.

“Hope isn’t given. It takes the will of man to step up to the plate and make a stand”.

“Solid words there, but you see, you’re a fallen soul with no purpose and a soul with no purpose can’t make a stand”.

“They all slip, you’ll see for all that falls shall rise again”.

“You dare mock me, hmph. As I recalled you failed the honor of your country”, the man chuckled dryly stimulating Christopher’s slip nearly four months ago.

“You’ll die like the rest of those hopeless fools Mr. Andrews”.

“Why not now, oh yeah you’re afraid for who I am and what I’m capable of doing. Isn’t that why you have your armed men keeping eye as you observe myself beyond that bulletproof glass”.

Christopher with a bold gaze, eyed within the dim reversed mirror that veiled the ruthless, but strange man who affirmed himself the superior hierarchical over the United States, therefore dog chaining the government in their leashes. Dr. Dwyer Ramsey.

“I consider that we’re finished for today, Mr. Andrews”, Dr. Ramsey responded in a dark manner, removing his crooked finger off the crimson knob, progressively strolling with light stomps to the back door with hands unified behind him, signifying his thoughts in perspective.

The guard left of Christopher roughly grabbed his upper limb and vigorously pulled him out of the weak chair that fell to the stained polished floor.

Christopher trembled to the cold ground hard while his two hands were still shackled behind his back in agony wondering how his failure led his country to slowly fall to ashes, regretful of his promised words to serve and protect.

One of the guards handled him around his left arm, while the other prepared his rifle for any sudden action. They gone through the rusted white dual doors where they passed through the ever so countless tedious thugs spurting out foul language and other crucial insults that Christopher ignored utterly. “Your mine now b*****d”, “Can’t hide to your mommy now”, “Baron, why the long face”.

When reaching the main doors of the correctional facility, Christopher couldn’t had imagine such a horrifying sight of murky golden smoke clouds over the smoldering city of New York.

Across the ash, barely exposing pavements of the courtyard, additional men with black hefty jackets, nearly tight similar colored pants, and onyx helmets that covered their full head with chrome touching, like the two guards aside him, lined stiff monitoring each corner.

Quite a few stared to the skies where the beaming spotlights raced all over the foggy atmosphere, watching out for any bizarre sightings.

“Andrews! Line up to aisle B of the main gate!” the guard holding Christopher hollered, shoving him into the barbwire aisle that divided each of the four in sections.

The steel entry from the rear fastened with a bash alarming Christopher as he patiently waited to discover him in a train wreck.

Ambitious thugs waited for his entrance and began to roar as a tease for him. Christopher never for once budged terror to conquer his might.

Then the locks of the iron gate popped open, gradually being pulled back automatically.

Nearly one-hundred men crowded like a rambunctious mob; some with stranded pipes, some with wooden polished baseball bats.

“Well, look what we have here boys, pretty boy”, the thug in the middle said patting his pipe to his hand, anxious. The others cried in laughter, noticing Christopher limping to their presences.

“Get this punk to the ground!”

Several of the thugs ran headed for Christopher, who still was chained. One to the upper left swung his bat, but Christopher twisted around revealing his back grabbing it with both his hands, then snapping it apart. He abruptly executed a jump spin kick knocking the thug out cold. His handcuffs from the pressure of his wrist snapped freely.

Two of the others were slammed by the broken portions of the bat thrown by Christopher.

Shortly numbers multiplied around him as he was attempting all his combated moves, jabbing, uppercuts, and head butting one after the other, but more seemed to get in his path.

At last he was beaten down with a pipe that whack upon his backbone. He clenched, holding his breath with pain. Inmates from angle to angle kicked and thrashed their objects all over Christopher’s body, then guards seized then away, but Christopher’s eyes fainted, and pitch black flashed out of sight.

 

Siberia, Russia

Vice president, currently president, Walker shriveled from the chilly conditions of Siberia. Through his own pupils was his vaporous breath puffing between his dehydrated cracked lips. He and his bodyguards briskly walked across the countless blankets of snow heading inside the temperate, but newest luxurious fine diner.

His trip to Russia was to come with a negotiation concerning missile defenses along with Russia. A new chemical component was discovered by the United States labeled Kromatium, an azure energy gemstone that flares constantly is said to be the dominant of most nucleonic bombs, but secret Russian officials are planning to obtain the dangerously active chemical to create a mass weapon that would annihilate a great span of the U.S.

The space was quite astonishing from the indoors with chandeliers dangling above the stunning painted ceiling with angels hidden in the white clouds, and elegant glass tables with cherry wood seating.

Although there wasn’t much business, it was a perfect hour to compromise this situation privately.

“Mr. President, sir, it’s a pleasure in having you for our guess today. Your meeting is behind those doors in the back, if I may assist you”, said the fellow waiter who kindly led the president to the private room to dine.

His two bodyguards followed, but on his arrival and the waiter opening the French doors, he told them to protect the doors from the exterior while he settled his arrangements.

President Walker stepped within soothing his fingers through his brown strains of thin hair.

There standing was the president of Russia’s defenses Vuletta Trivosky, with her pallid fur coat and silk gloves, but nothing was more ravishing than the shine of her reddish crimped hair, welcoming the president.

“I’m delighted to finally meet you President Walker, come let’s get situated then”.

They mutually sat at the same time. The only thing that was on the table was a tea pot and small cups for each of tea. Soon Vuletta began.

“I’ve heard that your country has discovered a new a new compound called Kromatium; it seems remarkable”.

“Indeed it is, though officials are commencing to breach our systems to take the Kromatium away for mass weaponry fro apart of Russia”.

“What a transgression, but I’ve haven’t even heard of such a thing, not even Russia’s president has overcome such an elite as you recalled”.

“Their leader is Dr. Dwyer Ramsey; he put New York under lockdown, causing our stocking levels to decline, also pushing back the U.S.’s exporting systems. He’s threatened the Pentagon and the White House if any authorized men endeavor a move, he’ll detonate the city and there is proof of these bombs planted everywhere. We can’t even defuse them from our facility without him knowing”. President Walker took photos from his overcoat, presenting the identity of Dr. Ramsey to Vuletta.

“Ah, I know that man. Such a trader he is to our people. I’m shocked for the fact that he achieved such a thing”.

“Is their anything you can do though to keep him and his men from deciphering the pass codes that secures the Kromatium?”

“I’ll see what our defenses could do to acquire the safety of your country”.

Vuletta expressions were set-aside as she held the tea pot serving herself and President Walker.

“Tea?”

“Sure thing”.

Vuletta without precaution pour the hot tea into his cup.

“I think I’m going to wait until me tea is cool”, she replied with a smile.

“Really, I like mine toasty”. They both chuckled, while the president took his first sip.

In a matter of three seconds he began gagging and encountered short breaths. He dropped his cup that crashed into pieces on the marble floor.

“What the hell is in this tea!” he bawled.

“Oh, just the toxins of a poisonous dart frog”, Vuletta spoke sincerely.

“I believe you have a range of three to five minutes to live, so lets make this quick; where’s the Kromatium and what are the numbers to the pass codes”.

“I’m not sayin’ a damn thing. HELP!”

“Hmph, screaming isn’t going to do you justice within these sound proof walls”. Vuletta smirked, delicately spilling her tea to the ground.

“I already told you; I’m not telling you”. President Walker felt numbness of his muscles and his vision became almost blind.

“That’s a shame. I guess you won’t be invited for the surprise”, she laughed and took a small vile of antidote from the pocket of her coat.

“I’ll tell you everything if you giv-e me that cu-re”, the president surrendered, hesitant across his words.

“Well, al-right”, Vuletta immaturely responded.

She reached to his hand and at random, tossed the antidote to the wall.

“No-o!” he yelped falling to the ground, twitching. Vuletta stood from her seat and kicked her slightly to his front side as he grasped for air.

“Oops; sorry”, she apologized sarcastically.

“You crazy bi…”

The president couldn’t conclude his phrase for his soul vanished from his paled corpse.

“Well, it was nice having tea with ya”, Vuletta said, switching her Russian accent to English.

She searched into his left pocket taking his cell phone with her.

She then excused herself from the room saying her farewells to the guards.

She gently with style walked out of the restaurant eliminating her fur coat, departing with her snow camouflage jumpsuit. She also removed her false wig, revealing her straight black hair, and threw off her gloves onto the buried snow. All she kept was the president’s phone.

Scarlett Vail was her true name. She’s a secret and lethal agent working along with Dr. Ramsey to take the Kromatium from the United States.

The president’s personnel busted from the frontage doors trying to stop her, as they aimed their 9-mm pistols.

“Don’t move!” one of them ordered.

“Sorry, gotta catch a flight”.

Scarlet hastily hopped onto her snowmobile and raced onto the snowy hills.

One after the other shot their guns, but overlooked her by an inch. Jointly, they embarked their Jeep and tried approaching up to her.

Once they were at the rear of her one of the bodyguards began shooting from behind. Scarlett steered in a zigzag way to mislay the guard’s target.

“I thought you were qualified to shoot”.

“Yeah, but this women is loosing my sight”.

The guard who was driving was tired and anxious, so he clutched his firearm and shot Scarlett’s mobile.

It began to flume smoke, therefore making her bound off to the woods. The bodyguard pushed the brakes firmly when the snowmobile exploded into flames.

“Hurry; follow her!”

Soon the issue turned into a great chase.

They winds and snows lost the focus of the guards tracking her path. Not even her footprints where visible.

They found themselves lost in the woods.

Out of nowhere from the tree behind them, Scarlett leaped off knocking them down. They picked themselves of the ground and proceed in their combat position.

Scarlett smirked and brawled with them both swiftly with no errors.

She jabbed the guard in front of her, then elbowed the one from the back, writhing his arm. The other guard placed his palm on her should, but she hooked kicked him to a tree, while she performed a butterfly kick to the other.

Scarlett ran further down the woods, until she spotted the watch tower. She continued running up the stairs, after the bodyguards ascending after her.

Once she entered the peaking room of the tower, she flung two detonators upward from her tool belt and attached a gun disruptor patch onto the wall, pealing the tape from the back. Afterwards she activated the detonating device, placing her thumb on the button from her back.

The bodyguards made their way in pointing their guns towards her.

“Freeze and don’t do anything stupid!”

“Trust me honey, I’ve done plenty of stupid. Anyways I’ve said that I have a plane to catch”.

Scarlett took a single step onward and the men evenly progressed to fire her down, but unfortunately the disrupter disarmed their weapons.

“What the hell is wrong with these damn guns?” Both looked at each other and shrugged trying to fire again, but nothing happened.

Scarlett dramatically pouted.

“You would actually kill me?”

“Wrong idea gentlemen!” she growled pushing the button.

The roof above ruptured over them with shards of wood and sheets of frost. Scarlett carefully took cover from the impact.

She got right back up and sauntered up-close the dead men. She kissed them equally upon the lips and noticed that her flight came on schedule.

A rope ladder plunges down and she lightly gripped onto it as Dr. Ramsey’s henchmen brought her up.

“Hello boys, so what have I missed?”

Scarlett gave the men malevolence fleeting appearance, preparing to proceed to next installment of the mission.

 

United States, Missile Defense Agency

Agent Edgar Wright dashed through the hall with files in his right hand, ready to alert General Harper of his urgent news regarding the president.

“General, sir, the congress has announced that President Walker was murdered”.

“Murdered by whom?”

‘That’s the thing he was killed by poison. There were no signs of fingerprints; the only evidence that was obtained, were just women clothing, but that still doesn’t tell us who did it”.

“Son, we all know who did it. Dr. Ramsey specifically told us if we made a move that he would pertain to it”.

“He’s just a step further than we think”.

“What should we do?”

“The congress can’t just re-elect another president”.

The general considered of methods to come with a resolution that would mislead Dr. Ramsey and his men.

“The congress sent me to just fire New York down”.

“What the hell were they thinking? I realize they’re the head, but there are innocent lives in stake and we can’t afford our city to perish”

“What should I do then?”

“Tell them to disregard their request”. The general rubbed his trimmed beard, turning to Agent Wright.

“Son, I have a task for you to do, without the congress knowing. Assemble the guys together, for our trust lies in their hands”.