Division 6

Introduces some of the chief characters of this novel. There are several key characters, one chief protagonist, and there...seemingly is one antagonist with the intent to dethrone America.

Chapter Two A Dangerous Man

The golden hall was filled with great applause. No president had ever made the strides he made, truly in the American eye, President Sam Nells was admired for being the best President the United States had ever seen. He was good at it, and he had a record of serving a few terms, longer than any other president, and surely being re-elected is not out of his reach. Now, he is just over fifty, formerly worked underneath the Central Intelligence Agency.

He stood behind the podium, encased in bulletproof glass, his family was there, right next to him, Samantha was his wife, she stood to his right, and held a file a bouquet of flowers, and behind her, a line of various others flowers, which she would distribute later during the final words of the ceremony. To his left, are his two children, the youngest who is sixteen, his daughter Jessica, whom he adored. She had long auburn hair, had make up for the occassion, hopefully someone would sweep her off her feet at this grand ceremony.

His oldest, his son, his least favorite of the two was in his dress whites, and though he was not in the special forces, he would stay with his father, as this is part of the world in which Sam made, and he would with all his heart stand by his father, even if the love was not reciprocated. That was his duty, he didn’t question it. He didn’t question anything.

This golden hall was lit by several golden chandeliers, candles on the table, and lights from the back hall. The tables were draped in white cloth, with several glasses filled generously to the rim of champagne, ready for everyone to drink. If there were any children there, they were allowed half that glass. The more conservative attendees would make sure to keep their children at home, while others, would monitor how much their child drank, and then finished their glass at the end. Such are the times, and this behavior is seen as normal, whether they be right or not is not the question.

Denise was one of the more conservative attendees at this ceremony, and yet next to her sat a man, a young man, aged at his early twenties. He sat up straight, straighter than any marine she had ever seen. His eyes were warm, yet cold when he looked at certain people. His suit was clean, and though didn’t quite fit him perfectly, he held a very professional demeanor. His hair was black, and cut like a business man. She found the curiosity to speak to him, as he seemed alone here, just as she was.

“What brings a young one here at a time like this?” Denise asked him. “What is your name?”

“My name…” he stammered over that one question, and he thought about it. “Paul. I have come here to observe the ceremony. There are very few here that I know, very few who have finally gotten into the Special forces as they call it. Do you know anyone here?”

“My daughter. Sarah Adams was accepted. She worked hard on it.” she answered. Special forces as they call it? Does he find them underneath him? Why?

“All work hard on getting into the service. All work hard in order to survive. All work hard on joining the elites, but it is never enough.” Paul replied. “I will watch things things set forth in motion, and predict the future.”

“How can you predict the future? Foresight does not exist outside of a world of prophets. This is not a world of Prophets.”

“Ah, but you see, I do not need foresight to see into the future.” he replied. “I see in you the same faith in me, and in a bold claim against a world that would gladly cut off your tongue and post it on a leaderboard for saying what you just spoke. However, all I need is direct interaction of people, for one who truly understands people, can determine what they will do, and the people I am most interested in understanding, is the president, and some other minor subordinates, and I will gleam a fountain just from this ceremony alone.”

“You are well studied then?”

“No. For me, this is all common sense.” Paul looked up, and he smiled. “It looks like it is about to begin.” His smile was not warm, it was cold. It was cruel as a man with a thousand ways to torture someone, and trying to decide which way to cause pain.

The chatter died down as Sam Nells raised his right hand. “Ladies and Gentlemen, and transgendered persons among us today, I welcome you gladly to the commencement ceremony of the first women who have joined our nation’s Elite warriors today. Behold, in my few terms in office, I have done more good than any other president in our nation’s history. Behold as I smash all walls of judgment, of contradictions, and beyond all walls of hate. Today we celebrate America, a nation no longer bound by any chains! A nation no longer under Christian rule. The bigots of that group of people will die out, and their number is limited. Americans, never fear, for you have been freed from all religion, and from Archaic morality, and into our own morality.” He paused for slight delay in applause. Denise did not clap her hands, nor did Paul. He actually chuckled. He chuckled! “Now I understand that there are those Christians among us today, who may take a slight offense to what I said, but do not fear, do not cast judgment, and we will all get along fine. Christians founded this nation, and turned it into Chaos, and now I am freeing it from that Chaos. I have freed it, and now before I get out of hand, I will now tell you, no, show you one further step from our oppression, let the first women be accepted into our great nation’s special forces.”

“What’s so special about them?” Paul muttered under his breath. Denise looked closely at him, he rested his face on his hands and observed the members of the forces accept their badges of honor for their deed. One by one, she noticed he closely observed them, looking for the smallest thing, a thing so small that no one would ever think to take that knowledge in. Whatever that small thing is, it is hidden. “I found it.”

“Found what?” Denise replied.

“I have predicted the future.” he replied. “In a moment, the celebration of the ceremony will begin, and then you won’t be able to see me. After this, I doubt you will see me again, but not that you care. In the matter that you see me, or forget me, I will not be in this suit.”

Denise shook her hands, her fingers trembling as she took sips from her champagne, the glass quivering in her grasp. He still maintained a warm presence, but the words he spoke to her, instilled a fear in her heart, that she needed to drink to dull the effects of fear. She was afraid of him, but why? There is no real rational thought about how one might be afraid of someone who one had but a very brief encounter, and encounter so brief so few words were spoken.

The military band began to play. The men and women who were being celebrated walked down one by one, and hurried to their prospective families. Just as he told her, Paul left to walk around, and Denise couldn’t see him anymore.

“Congratulations dear.” Denise said, hugging sarah closely. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom! It was so hard.” She said, embracing her mother a final time. Tears caressed her cheeks.

“And it will be harder still my dear. Stand fast, never give in to what others tell you.”

“I won’t Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Her first word stammered, and Sarah caught on to it.

“Mom, is something wrong?” Sarah looked her mother in the eye with concern.

“I just...I just met a man, right before your ceremony.” She replied. “He sent shivers up my spine.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be down your spine?” Sarah jokingly replied.

“Yes. It is. But that was not the case with this man. He said he could predict the future.” she answered. “Anywho, do not let my worries spoil your night. Go have fun dancing. I still need to calm my nerves dearest. Besides, maybe you’ll find a nice man to dance with you.”

“Mom.” she said. “I’m not a little girl anymore. This isn’t Cinderella.”

“Oh yes it is.” was her whimsy and sarcastic reply.

“Fine mom.” she said, turning towards the other room, which would lead to the dancefloor. She turned her head as she stopped. “I will see you at home won’t I?”

“Hunny, you’ll see me at the car. You didn’t forget I drove you here did you?”

Another couple laughed at the two, really appreciating the sense of humor this woman had with her soldier daughter. “I think in all the excitement, I did forget.”

“Now hurry up and go! This is your night sweetheart. Enjoy it, this may be the last time you get to do something like this.”

“Yes Momma.” she replied, turning in the other direction, and heading into the other room.

Denise watched her daughter walk in with the crowd of people. They filtered in, one by one, single file like a single mind. She couldn’t help but notice how much her daughter had really grown up. And though there is to be much more growing, she couldn’t help but wonder, if there are powers in this world...no. She mustn’t bother with them. It will be too much to handle as if a former belief would slowly become unraveled.

Then, she saw him. The man who identified himself as Paul. He was wrong, then maybe after all he can’t predict the future, or perhaps he was counting on her to draw herself in from the rest of the crowd, or perhaps in someway he knew she would be shaken, and need another drink, and stay awhile. Perhaps he really knew all of this, and perhaps he planned for the possibility of her seeing him one last time. Perhaps it was all intentional, just like when Adam took the forbidden fruit of the knowledge of good and evil, God gave him one final chance to fess up. And this was her chance maybe, but what was she to do when there is nothing for her to do, but observe this strange man as he disappeared into the crowd.

Sarah looked into the crowd of people. It was truly overwhelming to see so many people at once. She saw Tesla Smith, and went over to him. He had a beer in his hand, “Adams! How the hell does it feel?”

“It feels...I’m not sure yet.”

“Well certainly let me know when the first bullets hit you will you?” Tesla replied. “Just be careful. That is what Brian would say.”

“Anderson?”

“Yes, that guy. He’s rather depressed right now, so he wouldn’t come out of his house, besides for the little remnant of rainshine he could get.”

“Well, he certainly isn’t the only one from Division Six who couldn’t make it. Cross, that bigot decided he would go home and sleep instead.” Coppley chimed in, walking with two beers in his hand, handing the other one to Sarah.

“So much is going on right now, in our nation and the world, I can hardly fathom how someone could sleep peacefully tonight.” Sarah said.

“A man will sleep peacefully if a man is with another who means more than the whole world to him.” A man said. He walked in on the conversation. “The name’s Paul. You are?”

“Jack Coppley.” Jack seemed somewhat reserved about the man. His presence didn’t suit his stomach as it tossed and turned, and with the beer, both those things didn’t help him.

“Tesla Smith.”

“Adams. Sarah Adams.” she reached out her hand, and Paul took it to his lips and kissed it.

“How James Bond of you, Second Lieutenant.” Coppley said.

“Leave her be Cap, let her be. It’s her day after all.” Tesla said.

“That is what they say.” Adams replied.

“And what do you say?” Paul replied.

“What is your name? She replied.

“Paul. Didn’t you hear me? So this is the next generation of United States Special Forces eh?” he replied.

“Now now, she just got in. She hasn’t got our sharp eye yet.” Tesla said in her defense.

“Now tell me, Tesla is it? How does one expect to get out of a hole in the dark, surrounded by reinforced steel, no windows, no tools but a single fingernail.” he replied.

“You die.”

“Or use your fingernail to undo the rivets, and take out the door.”

“How do you find the rivets?” Tesla asked, and rubbed his chin as he thought about the question more deeply. “How do you undo rivets with nothing but a fingernail? I’m pretty sure a rivet is harder than a fingernail.”

“Very carefully. Just like everything else. And yet, if you can’t find a way, such as crafting a bomb maybe with whatever you had, you might have more of a chance to live through Hell like I have.”

“Well, way to make a very good day dismal.” Tesla said.

“Yeah guy, great job.” Coppley said. “Who the f**k are you with?”

“That information goes well beyond your pay grade.” Paul replied.

“Well, who would have ever thought that a man so young would be working undercover with CIA. You fool.”

“Well, for most of us, and certainly those in my position...we never had a choice.” Paul walked away, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Such a strange person.” Coppley replied. “Sounds like a sociopath.”

“Perhaps. One should never take someone from the CIA lightly though. It could be fatal, but we all fight under one mind, underneath one flag.” Tesla said. “Those brutes tend to be sociopaths anyway.”

“Yes, but doesn’t something seem so familiar about him?” Adams replied, she turned her head over to the crowd where he disappeared into, wondering what kind of mischief he could get himself into, or bring about in other people.

“Never mind. Go out and dance, find someone!” Coppley said. “You’ve earned it bud. Go enjoy yourself, Tesla and I will just talk about old times. Isn’t that right Tesla!” He said it as matter of fact as he wrapped one arm around his friend, almost spilling his comrade’s beer.

Sarah nodded to them, and went through the dance floor, with all of the other celebrants. She saw much laughter, between men and women, probably spouses of those accepted into the elite ranks. Many friends and companions, relatives also were likely here, looking for a reason to celebrate. Perhaps not all of them knew someone here; just looking for a reason to party, since many others so freely carried glasses of wine in their hands as they swayed their bodies back and forth.

She noticed, that at the far end of the golden lit room, there was a table full of light snacks, some cheese cubes, sugar cubes, celery, broccoli, and little pieces of shrimp. Well it would seem Nells is going out of his way today. Not that that should be surprising. She hurried over, starving from earlier, and it seemed like the cheese was the best option. She hurried over, grabbed a block of cheese and took one large bite from it.

“I thought I smelled a cheesy situation.” a voice came from behind. It was Paul.

Sarah coughed, almost spitting the cheese back into his face. “Now now, don’t die.” he replied. “It would be a shame, to join the elite, and only to be taken down by mere cheese. That would be an embarrassing tale.”

“You scared the s**t out of me.” Sarah barked. A few bystanders stood by to give them space.

“Well that mouth certainly isn’t lady like.” he replied softly.

“Well excuse me for living in the present you 1920’s Nazi!” she said.

“Please, Naziism didn’t start until ‘33. If you are going to call me a nazi, at least know something about it before you insult me.” Paul scoffed. “Besides, at least try to outwit me.”

“What do you want?” She asked rather defensively, grabbing another cheese cube.

“Does one need an ulterior motive to engage in conversation with someone he, she and or it notices?”

There was a pause. “N...no. I suppose not.”

“There, one step closer to a civilized friendship, or enemyship. That choice altogether is entirely up to you.” Paul replied. “Would you care to have a dance? I can sense the right music is about to play.”

“You mean_”

“Or as you would have said it, the DJ is going to pick the correct song required for dancing.”

“Yes_”

“Then it is decided then.” Paul pulled her directly on the floor, with other would be couples, to which a slow song was played, military styled of course.

Sarah looked at him with great caution, her pulse speeding up like a machine gun, firing so fast with no breaks, she was wondering when her heart would break down. Who is this man? CIA this I know, but he doesn’t seem like a typical agent. What division is he from. He must be here for something? Defector?!

“What do you hope to gain from this dance, Paul?” She asked as they slowly held each other and danced, following the crowd, and getting lost to the mesmerizing rhythm. The world seemed to get lost, as the only thing she could see clearly, was Paul, everything else faded into a blur. She could see golden specks of light emitting from the air.

“Well, one might say just for mere conversation. A sociologist might say that I am looking to fill a void in my life which can only be another living person. To that person I might say couldn’t be farther from the truth.” Paul rambled on.

“Damn it Paul! I said what do you want?”

“I could say the world, but in reality talking to you could never give it to me.” he replied. “Don’t think of this as me being after something. At least nothing directly concerning you.”

“So you admit you are after something!” she pointed out.

“Perhaps, and what I am after probably doesn’t concern you. Perhaps me being sociable, in this setting is but a mere tool to complete my mission which may or may not be above your paygrade. Perhaps I’m looking for someone or something. You can never know.” he answered as he twirled her.

“It’s all these stupid metaphors with you. Can’t you give a straight answer?”

“I only give straight answers to those I know I can trust.” he said frankly.

She stopped and quivered. She stared into his eye, and she could see nothing clear, as tears flooded her eyes. She remembered those words before, if only briefly.

It was the summer of 2014, She looked from afar, at the members of Task Force 7, there were the twelve of them, sipping from various sodas, while others cooked burgers, and others marshmallows over an oven fire. They were cheerful, one even brought his guitar, and some of them sang, while others listened.

She noticed other soldiers gathering around to watch the elite soldiers, admiring how happy they were. It was after all, their first real day off in months. They were worked hard, harder than any of them ever had been. They were very embracing of each other, and she remembered Anderson, he got really friendly with the one they called Wraith. She couldn’t recall what his face looked like. She thinks that was the only time she saw his face, and she can’t remember what he looked like, and never will she, since they burned his corpse after he was found guilty of treason.

He looked up to Anderson, and for Anderson, this was one of the very rare times she saw him smile. He was happy to be apart of the training of these young soldiers. She remembered the times he was speechless, since only words that came from Wraith’s lips were of love, and wisdom.

“You’re my best friend.” Wraith said to him.

Anderson couldn’t speak.

Later that evening, the skies darkened, and the fire roared, crackling as new wood was cast into it. They started telling ghost stories. It was odd, for them even. This reminded her of how little children are.

She remembered the execution, and how the nightmare didn’t end like it was supposed to. She was actually surprised, one never would have guessed that these twelve planned treason, yet the blueprint was on their computers.

She looked on the monitors, fires consumed most of them, and there were so few left on the perimeter, and there she saw another one of them. She went by the name of Slithers, for she had the ability, or so it seemed to avoid danger, though this didn’t seem to be the case. She was a good friend of Wraith, probably the best of the twelve, she was among the first to be in the special forces, though this was much less known. In fact, it is unwritten that she was in the special forces.

Soldiers rushed in, tried to tackle her, but through her training, one by one she killed. A blow to the neck, a knife in the face, broken necks, and broken backs. None were spared. Looking closely at the monitor, she noted that none of them actually hit her. Her training in hand to hand combat was second to none, at least none that could be compared with by anyone there. Perhaps only someone from Task Force 7 could beat her.

“Lead her here.” Nells replied. He turned his head towards another division of soldiers, armed with machine guns, and others heavily armored. Ballistic vests would not do here, they double plated everything. “Get ready. When she opens those doors, I don’t care what you see, hit her with everything we have! She must die before she gets there. It is for America, the treasonous b******s!”

“Y...yes Sir.” she answered. “Slithers?”

Slithers looked up at the camera, and she shot it. The feed went out.

“What the hell do you want Adams’? Huh? Tell me! What the hell do you want?!” Slithers screamed into the intercom.

“I can get you out of this. Just come to the main room, level six, room seven.” she said. “I swear I can get you out of this.”

“And how do you think you can manage that? Huh! You psychotic witch!” Slithers replied, her hair red, stained with the blood of her enemies.

“I...I have a chopper waiting outside.” she said calmly.

“I’m not leaving without what’s left of my comrades.”

“She bought it.” Nells said. “Tell her they have all been confirmed dead.”

“Their all confirmed dead. Slithers, you are all that is left of an elite team.”

“That is one, which confirms the first lie, making it two. There is no way all my comrades are dead.” she argued.

“Give it to me. I know what will get her here.” Nells said. Sarah watched as he took the comm from her. He had a serious look on his face, not with despair, but as if he already knew what would result from it. “Slithers. It’s Agent Nells. You remember me.”

Her voice chimed in immediately. “I’m gonna kill you you b*****d of a w***e. I will cut out your innards and stuff them down your throat, cut you up in a million pieces and send them to your family!”

“Then stop threatening and do it! You know where to find me.” Nells said, and the comms went silent.

Adams sat back in her chair, looking at the door, which was reinforced. Nells stood at the center of it, and riot shields were set up, and men aimed heavy machine guns towards the door. “This is it. This is it for Task Force 7. The plan for assassinating the president is a failure. Thank goodness, the end of their plots are near. It is time.”

“So this is it then?” Adams replied. She looked into the monitors, she stared into them, as if looking for something, that was how intense her eyes were. “This is the end of their glory.”

“They will go down,” Nells replied, they could hear screams from the other side of the door. No doubt, Slithers was killing every soldier between her and that door. “Yes, they will no longer be known as those who saved us, but those who plotted against our country. It was a horrible offense, and they thought we wouldn’t catch them before it was too late. This is the only way we can actually execute them. All other scenarios don’t end well for anyone.”

“NELLS! OPEN UP THE DAMN DOOR!” Slithers screamed. A sword pierced the crack of the door.

Nells went over to the dashboard of one of the systems, pressing a green button. The door opened, and a screaming Slithers came in, sword and hand, she swung, cracking the glass from the shields. The room lit up with gun fire, the shots ringing in her ears, she covered them.

She noticed the stiff red hair of Slithers as she came in hacking riot shields, and ripping through the plates that the soldiers wore. Many men fell, limbs were chopped off followed by no small amount of screaming. She noticed in the side of her eye, that Nells escaped into another side chamber(it lead outside), and more soldiers came in, shooting. Again, it repeated the same pattern of death, limbs, fingers cut off, though one man was able to get a shot off. She couldn’t remember his name, though he was the only one that shot her in a fatal area.

The pistol went off. The light flashed, and Slithers turned her eye, screaming like a banshee. Her wails reached the halls as she ran out the door, “I’m gonna kill you!” she whimpered. The man who shot her, the only successful one to leave a mark on her. A blood trail followed in flashing red lights. “Never again, will I give a straight response to someone I cannot trust!” She cried.

Sarah came too, slow dancing with Paul. She looked into his eye, and a tear fell from her face, and dripped onto her attire. “How did...how did you know?” She asked after a period of silence, a silence which voided out every other sound. No sound pierced her ears but her own, no laughter, to romantic kisses or addresses, even the music was voided. The only sound she would hear, was that of her own voice, and the response of Paul.

“Your comrades have suggested that I am CIA. If that was true, then I am required to know everything.” he replied.

“How could you possibly know that? Only three people could have remembered that! Everyone else was killed. Even she, she is dead. Good riddance. The traitorous soldier, the butcher some called her.” she said, defending her conscious. “I don’t even think that made the official report.”

“It didn’t. I checked.” he replied.

“How the_”

“Classified.”

“Who are you_”

“Classified.” he replied coldly.

“You...are one scary individual.”

Paul laughed. “I get that alot. Some very powerful people are afraid of me, and rightly so.” he replied.

“What goes on pretty birds?” A woman came up to them, beer in hand, It was Jennifer Bulsta. Sarah grimaced as she approached, and almost preferred the man, mysterious and seemingly dangerous, at least that is what he wants her to think, that much is abundantly clear. The rather forthcoming woman made her way, and hugged Sarah. Paul seemed rather unnerved by it.

“What’s wrong?” Jennifer mocked him. She licked the neck of Sarah who shivered. “Never seen two women love each other? You prick!”

Paul’s head turned and studied the two. “Well, it seems to me,” Sarah bit Jennifer’s ear. Jennifer yelped and released her grip lightly, but still not enough to allow Sarah to leave her. “That if two lesbian lovers as a portrait you are portraying, I see one woman antagonizing two people, a man and a woman, the woman who seems like she doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“That’s nonsense!” Sarah replied, kissing her cheek.

“Get your f*****g hands off me you creepy w***e!” Sarah cried.

“That’s enough.” Paul separated the two.

“Oh my god, you are so freaking creepy. You are more creepier than the bartender last night.” Sarah cried out.

“No, you would understand if you had been touched by a woman. A man can never understand, and obviously this young man has no experience.” the lesbian replied.

“Well excuse me while I don’t go around trying to screw everything with a pulse.” He looked at Sarah as he took to her side. “You are right, she is creepy.” he turned to Jennifer. “So, you might want to get checked out.”

“I don’t have AIDS.” She said defensively.

“And the Jews said everything was going to be alright. Look at how that turned out. Not very good did it?” there was a moment of silence. “Good day to you sir.”

“I am not a sir.” Jennifer said, taken aback by the what appeared to be a compliment.

“No, you are right. You’re too stupid.”

“And who the f**k are you to say such things?” Jennifer said. “You’re such an idiot!”

“He’s stupid because he’s right? Sure that makes sense.” Sarah replied.

Jennifer grimaced, teeth clenched as the two walked away. “Oh and by the way,” Paul turned his head as they were heading outside, by a large glass door. “I wouldn’t drink the wine, if I were you.”

“And why is that! Huh? Come out and say it!” Jennifer’s voice trailed off as loud chatter filled the room.

“Are you stunned by that man also?” a hand touched her shoulder. It was Copply.

“He’s utterly offensive.” she replied.

“Seems rather old fashion.” Tesla replied. “It would seem it would irritate him. He seems dangerous anyway.”

“Not more dangerous than you.” Bulsta said.

“Indeed, very few are more dangerous than me. Certainly none now that live.” Copply said pridefully.

“Yes, but in the half hour he has been here, it seems that he’s already managed to upset several people. Apparently we aren’t the only ones.” Tesla noted, laying his hand as if on a shelf in the air, palm up.

“Huh?” Copply looked surprised. “What the hell do you mean?”

“Oh, the uh, the Secretary of Defense’s wife is in the bathroom weeping because of him.” he replied. As last I heard, the President Nells is trying to make her calm while the secretary is trying to sort out his emotions.”

Glass broke, and shimmer across the floor. Sarah had just come from outside crying. “Don’t drink the wine!” She cried. Of course it had already been too late. Those with glasses of wine in their hand had already consumed the barrel that had just come out. More glasses broke as the wine splatter across the floor.

“It’s been poisoned! Don’t drink it.”

The Secret Service agents went in, pushing people towards the perimeters of the room. Nells was among them, and Sparky, the head was never far from him. Nells was right next to the Delta Force soldiers next. “Who was that? Adams, I saw him with you. Who is he?”

“I...I don’t know sir.” she replied. “He said his name is Paul. He said he was in CIA.” she answered. “I don’t know who he is. Did he poison the wine?”

People around the room gagged, and started vomiting violently. The vomit covered the wine of the floor. The vomiting was so violent, blood came out of the mouths of them, and those who were fortunate enough to not have drank from the wine cried in terror.

“We sent out a team to apprehend him. He won’t get far.” Nells replied.

“Who did you send?” Copply asked, observing the amount of seriousness written on his face. He turned to the mess on the floor.

“Agent Cerius and Nexus. They are with a small attachment of special forces. They’ll get him in no time.” Nells replied. “One way or another, whoever he is, is going to pay for upsetting a glorious occasion.”

Nells left, Sparky stayed behind, looking one way or another. He directed agents to do pat downs on people, some were too scared to do anything. Of course, how could a civie understand such security. Sparky put his hand to his comms as if to listen to something, something only he could hear.

“Sparky?”

“What is it Cerius?” he replied.

“We’re gonna need back up.” the reply came, this one, trembling.

“Where?”

“Fourth at shirley.”

“Five mikes.” the reply came. Sparky quickly left the scene.

Just a few moments earlier, Cerius and Nexus were tracking Paul down. He was fast. In the dark alleyways, he navigated the cities very well. The ambience was so dark, that they needed to be careful. The shadows were few, and all light seemed to fade. There was even little moonlight to help them.

They found Paul, lurking in the shadows, jumping from ladders to ladders, and eventually he just stopped, in a corner, with nowhere to go. Paul looked at the agents who looked at him with seriousness, and anger. Fourteen other soldiers were also by his side, all pointing assault rifles towards him.

“You, come with us.” Cerius said. “You need to answer for your attempt to kill the president.”

“Oh I didn’t intend to kill the president. If I did, trust me, I would have done it. That certainly was not my intention.” Paul looked calm and smug. “So sixteen they send to try to capture me, such a small number. I think you may need some backup. Of course, you have no idea who I am, so you have absolutely no idea how dangerous I am. Also, I don’t know you. I don’t recognize your face, and that being said, it would be a shame for me to have to kill you.”

Cerius called in for backup. Nexus never looked away from Paul, who only smiled at what seemed to be a great disadvantage. The light from the moon revealed his face.

“I believe the standard for waiting for backup is still five minutes.” Paul said. “I count sixteen of you. That gives me precisely seventeen seconds each, with just enough time to spare. That’s more than enough time.”

Sparky lead a crew of another twelve men. He had a map in his hand since he didn’t know the area too well. He just traveled according to the president’s wishes. We only have five minutes. Oh God, what mess could sixteen people not handle. It is only one man. Mr. President, you will have to do without me until I get back. I can’t imagine it will be long. He thought to himself.

He and his team found it. The alley in which he suspected them to be, and to his dismay, he was correct. Sixteen bodies. Blood littered the floor. Sixteen bodies. Not one of them the actual target. Sixteen bodies. He covered his mouth, and looked for the two agents. Had it not been the suits he wouldn’t have recognized them, for their faces were peeled off into strips of flesh which lay by their heads. He looked up to the roofs, and noticed the soldier’s looking for the other soldier’s dog tags, only to come up empty handed.

“He took their dog tags? Really?” Said a soldier who kicked the dumpster. “Of all things, he took the only way to identify them! Why! Who does such a thing!”

“A man with no morals. A man without a conscience. A man bent on evil, and destroying everything he touches. That is who this man is.”

“No, just simply, an eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth.” Paul was hanging off an iron ladder, and guns were trained on him. “I am only doing to them, what they did to me. You’re worried about identity of all things, the identity of your comrades whom you claim to know so well, when you don’t even know who you are.”

“But why! Why the dog tags!” the soldier said.

“The answer is simple. So none will know what he did. Any medal of any honor will be forgotten in his name. Any deed good or ill will be forsaken in his name. In the end, it will be more a blessing than a curse, for I have in mind a curse, that will break down this nation. Sparky, I remember you, and you will be cursed to live the rest of your life in fear of me. I have killed sixteen people here, and not a scratch upon my flesh, nor my will, but an undying scar on your will.”

Sparky took a step forward, aiming his gun at him. “I will kill you! You hear me! I will kill you!”

“You are far enough. Before you threaten someone, better make sure you remain six steps ahead.”

“Huh?”

He noticed a flashing red light in front of the soldier’s feet. They walked into a trap, one where the hearts pounded against the chest. The guns trembled in their hands. “Watch your feet.”

One by one there was an explosion, each coupled by another, attached to the wall of the buildings, brick and dust and fire came at them like bullets, ripping apart their flesh, and piercing their bodies. One by one they fell, some of the best died here, not all, since apparently, Sparky was allowed to live. He was caught underneath a large amount of rubble. His breathing became raspy, and he looked to the men he lead here. They were all dead, limbs limp, limp over the rubble, or bent backwards because of the many bricks.

One man. That is all it took. One man. Treated it all like child’s play. One man. Killed 28 soldiers. Who was this man? Who was this man named Paul? Where did he come from? Even Sparky couldn’t tell.

“Give my regards to Nells will you? You will survive. Tell him, the games have finally begun.” Paul said before climbing up the ladder and heading out, disappearing, no one ever knowing.

It wasn’t long before Sparky lost consciousness.