“You see we are winning the war with the South so easily, with their American friends not in the way. By this time tomorrow we will be one nation again.”
Hayato replies, beaming, “These are good days indeed.”
His Korean is rough, but the guards do not seem to care, most that come over can’t speak the language properly. While the inspection continues, Hayato takes out a cigarette packet and shakes one out for himself and his passenger. A guard approaches, and after noticing the cheap Chinese brand, he motions for one as well. The pack has a few left, Hayato lets the guards have them all, a little reluctantly of course, but these are good days.
Fifteen minutes later the team finds themselves waved through, and are on the road again. Having filled the fuel tanks in China, they will have plenty of diesel for the round trip. With their target having many possible locations, Hayato's team takes an educated guess and heads to the mountains north of Pyongyang first.
Hayato's men are in high spirits having crossed the border uneventfully, that is, until they spot a road block ahead. Having been spotted themselves, turning around would only alert the guards. With a nod to Daitaro, and the press of a button under the van's dashboard, he signals his intentions to the team. Six North Korean guards lazily wave the vans to a stop. Pulling up side by side, the four men lean out and open fire with fully automatic suppressed machineguns. With a quiet pop, pop, pop, the guards do not even get to fire a shot back. Hayato's men load the bodies into their own vehicles, remove the road block, and continue on.
The mission continues uneventfully for many miles until finally, they turn onto a hillside road. This road winds up and down, then up again, as it snakes its way around the side of a small mountain. Being cut into the hill side, this road has a steep drop off on one side and a steep crumbling hill on the other. With only a few miles to go and nearing the top, the team finds a secluded side road, which they take. This dirt road is a brief respite to the hillside road, as it follows an old dried creek bed. About a half mile down the road, the team turns into the woods. Settling deep into the forest, the team sets up a base of operations with perimeter scanners. They take shifts sleeping as they wait for evening to fall.
Hayato, Daitaro, and Chokichi don full combat gear and head to the mountain top house, while Akira stays behind. Four hours later finds the three man team closer to the residence. They seem to have struck pay dirt. Fireworks light the sky as the house appears to have a party going full swing. Through powerful binoculars, the three men can discern where the many guards are. The guards seem quite relaxed considering there is a war going on. Having had no news this last day Hayato wonders if perhaps the South has surrendered already. Regardless, thinks Hayato, the orders stand, and they will be carried out.
With hand gestures alone, the three men communicate a plan then slowly make their way to the home to the North Korean leader. The house is a fortified palace, but it would seem that a lot of complacency exists this far from danger. A guard dies silently, unable to scream with his throat being cut from ear to ear by Daitaro's knife. Another feels as though he has been punched in the back. He looks down to see a massive knife point protruding from his stomach. It twists and turns then travels slowly upward. His cries for help stifled by Hayato's gloved hand as his life seeps away. More and more perimeter guards disappear silently into the night, and to their grisly graves.
The silent attacks end with a powerful explosion that rocks the night sky, sending showers of sparks into the air as the home’s power is taken out. Daitaro, having fulfilled his task, slinks away. Alarms sound as backup generators kick in re-establishing power, for a short time anyway. The personal guardsmen surround their leader as they retreat to secure part of this massive house. These guards die one by one from Chokichi's unseen sniper fire. The three guards left manage to protect their charge and make it inside. One dies from a single gunshot to the head, another falls to the ground clutching a thick knife that is buried to the hilt in his chest. The third, and last guard manages to get his weapon up, just in time to do the dance macabre. He is riddled with bullets from Hayato's sub machinegun, and only falls when Hayato ceases the relentless burst. With the silencer removed, the noise is deafening in the confines of the small room. Standing alone now, the small meek leader who so willingly orders executions, torture, and worse, looks back and forth with frantic eyes. Without a word, Hayato runs him through with a long slender blade. With a quick sideways slash, Hayato disembowels the man who, after watching his entrails snake out onto the floor, falls face first to the ground. In his dying moments, this once powerful leader futilely tries to hold his ruined body together.
Hayato looks about the room, takes some pictures with a small camera, then withdraws a blood sample from the gutted body of the North Korean Leader. To his surprise he succeeds in making a wireless connection to the internet, where he starts a live video feed. Placing a different camera down so the world can see the results of this night, he leaves as silently as he came. Hayato wonders why the Gamin have let this war happen. He is also very surprised at being able to get a live video feed online. There can be no mistaking who this corpse belongs to.
With only a hand full of non combatants left alive, the team rounds them up, telling them they won't be harmed. One young boy, no more than fourteen, still carries a silver serving platter, complete with drinks. With a crash, he throws it to the ground revealing a small hand gun. Bang, Bang, Bang, the boy fires at Hayato hitting him squarely in the chest knocking him back, and off his feet before the boy is shot dead. Hayato’s ribs feel bruised beneath his body armor, he rubs his chest hoping that none of his ribs are actually cracked. He did not expect such a young boy to attack, and feels very lucky to have survived the lesson. He nods an appreciative thanks to Chokichi and continues on. These people have been brainwashed from birth, thus, his team makes no more mistakes. Securing the survivors in a room as best they can they make preparations to depart.
Prior to leaving, Daitaro sets up explosive traps inside a few rooms and lays mines in the entrance way. Having acquired a small truck carrying a fifty caliber machinegun, they depart. With only a few miles to travel, Hayato hopes to make it to their temporary base before reinforcements can arrive. Using only his night vision goggles, Hayato drives the small truck downhill at a break neck speed. They make good time and just manage to turn onto the dirt road as headlights shine up. With the stolen truck now travelling down the dirt road, a column of trucks and jeeps traveling at high speed zoom up the hill on the main thoroughfare. They all pass the dirt path, some twelve vehicles in all. None notice the retreating truck with its fifty caliber gun armed by Chokichi pointed back at them.
The men make contact with Akira, and in short order pack and secure the small base they set up.
It is not long before the night sky is lit up and a distant boom can be heard. Time to leave. With the stolen truck in front and both vans behind, the team heads out. Hayato himself, mans the fifty caliber gun leaving the other three to drive. They all wear night vision goggles and run with their lights turned off. Traveling downhill the team comes to a stop on a bend at a narrow section of roadway. After a few minutes, they head back down again, there is no going back now, making this the most dangerous time for them all. Within minutes, a deafening roar can heard from behind, the pursuers have discovered Daitaro's roadside present. They have no way of knowing how well the trap worked, but they are pretty sure that at least one vehicle would have been blown up completely. The explosion itself, strong enough to cause a landslide that should block the road.
As the team nears the base of the hill, they have a choice of roadways, they can see lights ahead. Another force is coming their way, at least four vehicles. The terrain here consists of many small hills. The road also has a subdued slope off to one side. Hayato's men have only minutes to act, and do so. The lights of the first vehicle shine brightly as it crests a small hill. Just as the beams of light swing downward to catch sight of the truck with its fifty caliber mach
inegun, a massive explosion rips out from under the jeep. It is lifted into the air and lands on its side, ablaze. Its occupants killed instantly. The troop transport truck that was following stops right at the crest of the hill. The mounted gun roars, the windscreen shatters inward, two men in the cab are torn to shreds, bullets travel right through into the rear cargo area. Men scream as they are shot through, others jump out the back to drop down below the ridge line. At the urgings of their captain, these soldiers creep forward. The situation looks to be turning to their favor. From a small rise to the side, the three men of Hayato's team unleash a volley of sniper fire from suppressed weapons. With most of his mean dead, the captain holds his hands up in surrender.
Ten minutes later Hayato's team is on the road again. Having refueled, and taking as many provisions as possible from the bullet riddled truck. The soldiers will later have trouble answering any details about their assailants, as none of attackers spoke and wore camouflaged combat gear. With some fifteen men tied up, and twenty dead, the reports that there were only four attackers do not go over well. Fortunately for these survivors, a turn of events will see them safe.
During this time in another part of North Korea, events are fast unfolding. At first, horrified at seeing his younger brother dead, he quickly realizes this presents him with a unique opportunity. He could become the supreme ruler of what will soon be a larger North Korea. He orders his helicopter repainted white with a giant red cross on its side. As no civilian aircraft have been harmed, he is feeling confident, and within thirty minutes boards the helicopter heading for the capital. The elder brother wants to solidify his right to control the country quickly, lest others step in. Most presidential aircraft are armed with defensive capabilities only, most. As the ground falls away and they are unscathed, the pilot starts to breathe a little easier.
Hayato's team does not head for the border, they head north instead, to hole up and await further instructions.
Location:
Manhattan Island
New York
As news of the war in Korea makes its way around the world, people express their concerns to politicians, media, and to each other. With the North Korean leader dead, the forces of the North stop their advance to await instructions from his successor. Leaders of the world send messages to the Gamin in hopes of mediating a peace.
Regent Voknor, having studied many of the different cultures below, ponders how to use this conflict. He almost relishes the complexities involved as he decides on a course of action.
It seems that it's only when many of the workers helping the Gamin stop showing up, that the aliens react. George is the only one to show this morning, he gets into a body suit and awaits instructions. When none are forthcoming, he heads to the practice area and starts to absorb and create rocks and other small objects, while monitoring the numerous symbols and numbers that scroll down his screen.
After a while, a single Gamin wonders by, he motions for George to come over.
“Human, what is your title?” The alien points at him with one of those powerful looking clawed hands.
“Uh, I am George, George Stanton.” He replies with a small gulp, not sure of what is going on. He is quite perplexed at this Gamin talking with him. The Gamin has the same features he has come to expect, motley green skin, bone spikes on his forearms and near his knees. It’s the snout full of teeth and the off yellow eyes that really send a shiver down George’s spine.
“George, my title is Sharz, make a chair for me.” The vertical iris within those yellowy eyes stares at George, the expression unreadable.
George makes a chair, it's metallic and hard. If George did not know any better it would seem this Sharz is rather unimpressed.
“George, make a soft area to sit on.” The creature motions with his three clawed hand.
George again points at the chair and thinking foam, he succeeds in spraying foam all over the place, hearing a horrendous noise, and fearing the worse, he stops and looks at Sharz. His long snout is open revealing a lot more teeth, his ear flaps are bouncing up and down as he stands there shaking. Sharz has his eyes slits closed and is holding his arms strangely. With a start, George realizes that Sharz is laughing. With the tension suddenly gone he looks at the mess he has caused, and laughs as well.
Sharz chats with George for a long time about the Gamin coming, the war in Korea, repairs, and the resupply the Gamin are here for. George wants to so badly to ask about Manhattan, but does not get a chance to broach the strike. George does get to tell Sharz that the war in Korea needs to be stopped.
After a short pause, Sharz surprises George even more, as he starts to explain the body suit, totally ignoring the comment about Korea. By the end of the afternoon George is able to craft items as small as a pin or as large as himself, and even ends up being able to craft things with multiple textures at once. Sharz finally gets up off his now comfortable chair, then looking about, tells George to absorb everything. He then surprises George even further, by coming back to the war in Korea.
“George, we are a good race who only wish to survive, killing innocents is not something we do easily. Watching your people fight each, other has brought a mixture of fascination and sadness. We are quite familiar with war, and defending one’s right to exist.”
With that Sharz leaves, George does as requested and absorbs everything created. He then heads off to where he was working yesterday, and continues for a while. The rail line is taking shape, and will soon meet up with the New York Metro. Suddenly, a buzzer sounds in his helmet, his visor goes dark, the entire body suit suddenly feels very heavy and gets stuffy. A thud is felt through the helmet at almost the same instant. The screen now displays a lot of information, including a trajectory and identifies a possible source. George realizes with a start, that he has just been shot at. With all his effort he wills the body suit to move, then run, toward the safety of the spacecraft. Once inside, he gets out and inspects the suit. Sure enough there is a small dent in the helmet. Feeling very shaky George is unsure about heading home. He is the only one in the area, and again feels odd at the apparent trust these Gamin seem to be showing.
Just as he is walking down the ramp, an odd looking vehicle pulls up, emitting a low hum, it seems to float on a shimmering haze about knee-high off the ground. George does not ever recall seeing such a craft. A door sized panel slowly opens up in its side. At about sixty feet wide and over one hundred fifty long, the hovering craft has stubby wings and the narrow nose features he has come to expect from Gamin vehicles.
A metallic sounding voice comes from inside the vehicle, “Get in George.”
George steps inside, and finding a seat, he sees that he and one alien are the only occupants. The forward section has a number of controls, and a narrow looking view screen that hugs the hull around the two of them, allowing one hundred eighty degrees of visibility.
“Sharz, is that you?” Says a rather timid George, hoping he is not in some trouble, the few Gamin he has seen all look alike.
“It is. Time to show your people that some of us do care about the fate of your planet. Put this in your ear, then speak a few words.” A small object is handed to George, it's very light and looks fragile.
With that, the craft visibly lurches forward, but inside George does not feel any acceleration. Seeing movement without feeling it is quite disconcerting for a moment. The object in his hand is very small indeed, and has an odd shape, he finds it fits well enough in his ear. Thinking back, he does recall these craft now, they are the same as those suspended inside the space ship along its interior walls.
“What is this device, a communicator?” He is a little afraid of what is about to happen.
Sharz starts to make some unintelligible noises, and within a few moments, George is able to understand him, without the metallic sounds that he had gotten quite used to.
“Not all of us carry translators. That ear piece will do it for you. Make no mistake, you are about to have a very rare privilege that many
Gamin never get.” Sharz sounds even less frightening without that metallic sounding voice. George is not sure how they converse in English, but he hopes to find out.
With that, the craft angles upward, blue skies give way to a star filled view as it heads ever upward. Soon, a speck is visible ahead, the speck grows to show itself to be a massive spacecraft. At the press of some control, more of the front section opens up, allowing even greater visibility. Sharz performs a slow roll, the view is breathtaking. Earth is below with numerous ships visible, some laying satellites, others just hovering in orbit. Some are quite small, and seem to be travelling from one larger spacecraft to another or going to and from the planet, George can't really tell.
“Why me Sharz, and what am I supposed to do?” George is now quite curious, his fear diminishing.
“Even though your home was destroyed, and some people were killed, rather than do nothing and accept your fate, you are taking action. Thus, you are determining your own future. As for what to do, you will bow before our leader, Regent Voknor. You will stand when he orders, answer when he orders, and do not ask questions unless invited to. Your very life is at stake, should you offend him.”
The tiny craft travels along the underside of this huge spaceship, it being easily twice the size of the one in New York. George is very surprised to see that it too, shows dents and scorch marks along its flanks and underside. What is really going on here? he wonders.
“Were you folks in a space battle or something?” says George, out of curiosity more than anything else.
“Never speak of it. To do so is to ask for certain death. I have shared a little of our culture with you and am willing to share more, but not yet.” Sharz seems almost angry, so George does not ask any more questions. He merely looks up at the massive spacecraft that now dominates the view.
First Contact (Terran Chronicles) Page 14