- Wolverfrog
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- Fabled Legendary Member
Chapter One - Premeditation
<13 hours earlier>
"You know what you've got to do tomorrow morning, Edwards?" the woman in the front passenger seat asked him as I climbed into the sedan. Her face was nearly impossible to make out in the darkness of the early morning, and her accent was rather vanilla. As I adjusted myself in the seat, preparing my answer, I noticed how clean and pristine the car was. Definitely hired. Plastic sheets covered the seats, in order to prevent fingerprint identification. Covering the two seats next to me lay a huddled green blanket. I knew that underneath them there were enough illegal arms to get all of us life sentences.
"I've done this before," I replied coolly, strapping my seatbelt in. The woman up front chuckled, and poked her head around the seat to face me, allowing me to get a closer look at her. She seemed to be in her early fifties, although in this day and age it was possible she was closer to eighty. Tinted sunglasses masked her eyes, even though it was pitch black outside. She wore a tight fitting black garment and was staring at me with a look so intense that it could probably burn a hole straight through the hull of a UNSC frigate.
"I heard about that," was all she said to me, in a fairly pretentious tone. I frowned. "This is on a much larger scale though, Mr. Edwards. People will die."
"All of them UNSC supporting oppressive bastards," I spat out venomously, hands clenching unconsciously. The woman up front nodded.
"That's right. We need to show them that they can't control us like this and expect to get away with it. This will be a strong message," she pounded her fist as she spoke, I noticed. I grinned, betraying me eager youthfulness. But I could be serious when I needed to be. Like I would need to be when dawn rose.
"When do we leave to scope the place out?" I asked, voice dead-tone again. I was both dreading and anticipating what would come tomorrow morning, and just wanted to get it over with. Anxiously I unzipped the backpack wedged between my knees. Inside was enough high-level explosives to level a building. All of it my own design, I noted with some pride.
"As soon as our other man arrives," the woman answered coolly. I still didn't know her name. It was safer that way, I'd been assured. It therefore troubled me a little that she knew mine. Hearing her words, I frowned.
"Other man?" I'd been under the impression that this was to be a one-man operation. The woman up front laughed hollowly, silver hair cutting through the dark as it shifted.
"You didn't think we'd be sending you in alone, did you dear? Our operative will make sure you carry out your task completely."
"I--"
"Don't argue, dear. I'm sure you're a very trustworthy person, but with these sort of things it's always best to be sure, you understand? Our operative will keep you safe as well, in the event that someone interrupts you."
"I can handle a weapon," I protested vehemently, still frowning. The woman up front hummed, as if doubtful of the fact.
"Perhaps, but there will be soldiers in that building, Mr. Edwards. The UNSC may be dictating, but they train their troops well. This is the safest option, I assure you." Again with the assurance, as if she still thought that I wasn't committed to the cause.
My whole family was dead because of the UNSC. Of course I was committed. But I knew that she wouldn't be swayed, so I dropped the subject, choosing to sit in silence and think.
I'd bombed places before in the name of freedom and democracy, but they'd always been low-value targets with no deaths and few injuries. This was on a completely different scale. Hundreds would die. Maybe more.
But it would bring us one step closer to liberating billions from the oppression of the pseudo-militaristic 'government' of the UNSC. I dreamed of a day where a Unified Earth Government would return, and people on the outer colonies could vote and elect officials.
"Is this car on the grid?" I asked, suddenly paranoid. The surveillance grid was an almost Orwellian network of cameras, sensors and microphones. All in the name of public safety, of course. They weren't everywhere, but in high security areas you couldn't move without being photographed, cross-referenced and evaluated from every possible angle.
"If it was we'd have a problem, Mr. Edwards," the woman intoned. "Our... benefactors went to a lot of trouble to get this car removed from the surveillance grid. We're safe from prying UNSC eyes."
"And just who are our benefactors, if they have the power to do that?" I demanded.
"People dedicated to humanity, Mr. Edwards. That's all you need to know."
I was about to convey my dissatisfaction with the answer when suddenly the door to the left of me opened. I nearly jumped out of my skin as my pulse rate climbed and heart began to pump erratically.
"It's me," a low, gravelly voice stated, climbing into the car seat next to me. The woman up front didn't even turn around.
"You're late."
"The clock doesn't start until I arrive," the newcomer replied in a hostile tone, closing the door behind him. I noted the pretentious tone he talked to the woman at front with. She either didn't care or didn't have the means to stop him doing so.
"Very well," she answered, "this is your partner," indicating me in the back. I shifted uneasily as the large stranger turned his gaze on me. Blazing, large eyes cut through the darkness as the rest of his face was shrouded in shadow. It was hard to tell in the black but he looked to be at least a foot taller and much heavier than me.
"He doesn't look like much," my partner noted, grasping my arm in a vice-like grip and snorting with dissatisfaction before releasing it. I snatched my arm away, edging to the right a little bit to distance myself from this brute.
"He may not be a soldier like you, but he can work explosives and he's pledged to the cause. Just do what you're paid to do."
My opinion of the man next to me lowered considerably at those words. Paid to do. He was just a common mercenary. Not a volunteer with admirable motives like myself.
"I always deliver," the mercenary answered. The woman up front seemed satisfied with the answer, and turned to the driver; a faceless husk of a man who remained stoic and speechless as he sat in the dim shadows.
"Let's go."
* * * * * * * * * *
"This is it?" the nameless mercenary asked as we pulled up a few hundreds yards away from the target building in a dark alley.
"Yes, this is our target," the woman up front said, smashing a bony fist into a small palm for emphasis. "The headquarters of the military government in this sector of the planet."
"That's the reason we're bombing it?" I asked, still not entirely sure as to the purpose of this operation. I trusted in my superiors to know what was best for the people, but still I would have liked to know exactly what my explosives would achieve.
"You'll see everything as it is tomorrow, dear," was the only reply I received, and one I wasn't very content with. But it would have to do.
"I assume you've found us a way in," the mercenary intercut, not even hesitating for a moment when he heard the name of the building we were bombing, and seemingly knowing or just not caring about what exactly we were doing this for. My own heart nearly went into cardiac arrest; there would be dozens of UNSC soldiers patrolling the perimeter.
"Our benefactors have managed to get you employed within the building. Congratulations on your janitorial jobs, boys," the woman who was the conductor of the grim song being played by our destructive orchestra informed us, before handing us each a dark duffel back. I unzipped mine and saw the faint gleam of an ID badge lying on top of a navy blue janitor's outfit. The letters 'SC' could be seen, embroidered in silver lettering. It was a safe bet to assume that the full word read 'UNSC.'
"How do you know this will work?" I asked, my voice rising an octave or two as my heart continued to pound.
"Because we already have an operative inside working as a secretary, with the UNSC none the wiser. He'll meet you at the front entrance, and give you an introductory tour of the building, to keep everything seemingly genuine. When he says the words 'I'll let you get to work, now," that's the signal for you to head down to the basement and arm the explosives."
This was beginning to sound like an obscure spy novel that you could download off the web. Except in those novels, people like us were always the bad guys. Sweat seeped down my forehead, breathing was constricted, heart racing. I was panicking.
"Don't worry, you let me do the talking. You just focus on setting up the explosives," my 'partner' reassured me, and I nodded curtly. The woman looked at us, assessing, before nodding.
"We're going to drop you off at a small flat we've rented in your fake names, and you'll drive here in a car tomorrow morning. If anyone digs around, all they'll find is two friends sharing a flat who have managed to secure a job together. After we leave you won't hear from me again until after the deed is done."
How could anyone seriously believe that I could ever be friends with this guy? Sure, he was only a few years older than myself, but he looked like the sort of person who, if I met in a dark street, would prompt me to turn around a briskly walk the other way.
"Leave the explosives in the car. We'll have them smuggled in and waiting for you in the basement tomorrow morning, Mr. Edwards," the woman told me. Why was my name the only one being bandied about? I chose not to voice my objection though, mostly out of fear.
But I wouldn't let terror consume me. I had an important job to do. A duty to humanity. If my act tomorrow morning could in some way help topple the UNSC, then I would kill any amount of people.
Or at least, that's what I liked to believe.
[Edited on 11.19.2010 3:05 PM PST]