by M C Drake
The Soldier approached Glen and grabbed his wrist, a needle pierced Glen's skin. The needle was attached to a small metal device that had a screen that after several seconds showed various readouts. The message flashed red.
The soldier smiled, he turned and nodded to his colleagues behind him, who dragged Glen away from his family and forced him into the back of an armored transport, they sedated him and the threw him into the back.
Glen's wife Helen tried hard to hold her tears back and she subconsciously stood in front of her daughter. The soldier approached and pushed Helen out of the way.
“No!” She screamed as she took a step towards the soldier but his colleagues struck her from behind and then restrained her, but they made sure she could see what was happening.
“What are you going to do to my daughter.” She shouted.
The soldier ignored her and gripped the frightened child. He used the same device, the needle punctured the skin and the child began to cry. The readout took several seconds and again flashed red.
The soldier pulled his pistol from his belt and placed it to the child's head.
“No! get away from her.” Helen screamed but she was again struck in the head and her vision blurred.
The child went deadly still and a second later a gunshot rang out, the bullet flew forwards and struck the Aryan in his helmet but it bounced clean off. The soldier let the child go who started to run, another shot rang out and bounced off the soldier's chest armor.
Curtis rattled off another six rounds until his pistol was empty, the turret of the tank in the street swung round and Curtis charged towards the soldiers who were restraining Helen. He took three steps when the tank fired, a superheated ball of light rushed forwards and detonated on the curb next to Curtis, he disappeared in the amazing ball of light.
The Aryan turned to see the child running back towards the house, he took aim and squeezed off one round, it flew true and stuck the child in the back, she fell and never got up again.
Helen was dazed from the last blow but she felt a terrible pain run through her soul, she knew something awful had happened to her little girl; she felt nauseous and threw up on the sidewalk.
The soldier hauled Helen to her feet, he looked into her deep blue eyes. The device pierced her skin and a few seconds later the screen flashed green, it read 94% Nordic DNA.
The Aryan shook his head, "Shame you sullied your heritage and desecrated your body with this sacrilege." He pushed his gun into her face and pulled the trigger. They threw Helen's lifeless body to the floor and moved on.
The whole of Dayton was painstakingly processed in this manner. The elderly, young and sick were all disposed of on the spot. The people who were physically fit but were off non-Nordic heritage were sedated and thrown into the back of huge armored vehicles, they were often thrown on top of each other in terribly cramped conditions. A few choked on their own vomit while under sedation.
The residents who were off Nordic descent were treated a little better but were still forced into transports and taken back to Wright Patterson Air Force base where they were to be housed. None of them knew their fate but after witnessing their friends and neighbors being slaughtered, they were not confident of surviving; they prayed to God that their countrymen would be able to liberate them from this unknown evil.
Processing
Pamela lay under the bodies of her friends for a long time, she did not know how long it actually was but it felt an eternity. She felt the warmth leave them and in a couple of extreme cases, rigor mortis had begun to set in. She had never experienced it first hand before but the dead were seldom silent, with all manner of gases escaping their system.
Finally, she plucked up the courage to move, she pushed the bodies off of her and looked around in a daze, the sun was high in the sky now but was being obscured by a thick fog; smoke billowed from Dayton.
Pam checked herself over, she wiped at a splattering of dried blood on her arm but it was stuck firm, apart from a few small gashes on her face and arms from falling she was ok. She knew she had to worry about shock and needed to keep warm.
Pamela had gone into survival mode, she did not think of the rights or wrongs of what she was doing, she just did it. The young lady stumbled around and started to collect clothes off of the dead, she took socks and a coat that had only a small bloodstain; she salvaged what she could.
Steven was still cowering under a pile of bodies, he had his eyes shut and was quietly mumbling to himself. He was covered in muck and blood, he tried hard to imagine he was somewhere else. Pamela tried unsuccessfully to drag him out but he stubbornly stayed where he was, his body was a dead weight.
Pamela tried desperately to reason with her causal lover but he would not listen, he just stayed under cover and wept quietly. He was in no state to move.
"I have a horrible feeling Steve that they might search this area for survivors, I am going to go and raise the alarm. I can't stay here with you...Steve can you hear me? I am going now. Stay safe." She kissed his dirt-caked hand and then began to walk away from the carnage. She was gripped by a steely determination that those bastards were going to pay for their crimes.
Steven had drifted into an uneasy sleep that was plagued by nightmarish images of all of his friends being killed. He could hear their voices, but they were muffled like he was inside a casket.
Steven woke with a jump as the voices and footsteps in his head grew louder, he lay there, still covered by the corpses of his two friends and started to weep again.
The voices grew louder, the bodies to his left were kicked and moved slightly, the footsteps were all around him, he was not dreaming. The armor-clad soldiers were checking every single body to make sure they were actually dead; they kicked, punched and even shot at some of the bodies. The only noise was the groaning of escaping gas.
Steven started to panic, he had nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. He just had to stay still and pray that he was not discovered. The body of a middle-aged woman that lay directly on top of him was unceremoniously removed, it was kicked once and then chucked on a pile of other bodies.
The soldiers were stacking the corpses, ready to be moved.
'What the hell do they want with the dead?' Steven thought. 'Will this nightmare never end!' He tried hard not to scream in terror.
Another body was removed and the brighter light hit Steven's face, it burnt his eyes through his closed eyelids, tears trickled down his face. Suddenly he felt a terrible pain in the back of his thigh. He tried desperately to hold it all together but as the soldier twisted the blade in his leg, his body trembled and he let out a scream in pure agony.
The soldiers pulled him to his feet, one hit him so forcefully in the stomach that knocked it the wind out of him.
The soldiers held him up while the device was put over his wrist, the needle pierced his skin and he dimly felt the pain. Steven had never felt this much pain before and he actually longed for it to end.
The read-out flashed a dull yellow, 52% Nordic DNA. The soldier laughed and then signaled to a colleague carrying a small metallic case, he opened the case and then they pierced Steven through the neck. He was quickly sedated and thrown onto a flatbed truck; he was led on top of the dead bodies that were to be transported back to Wright Patterson.
Captives
Wright Patterson was a hive of activity, in just thirty hours the base had been reinforced and multiple buildings had sprouted up. The soldiers had been busy; they were resourceful and had taken the materials from the buildings in Dayton. They took concrete, steel girders and any other usable materials.
A lot of the hangers had been converted into holding cells for the growing number of captives. They were separated into Nordic heritage, others and then finally a couple of hangers were being pumped full of freezing air to keep the dead from smelling.
Steven was sat near the front of one of the overcrowded hangers; the man next to him had died a couple of hours earlier after an allergic reaction to the sedativ
e, his expressionless face lay motionless in a pile of sick. The smell had made quite a few of the other captives throw up.
The acorn device was at the center of the base and troops, machines and materials periodically poured out of it, illuminated in a brilliant indigo glow. Tanks of all different sizes gathered near the exit of the base, a large group of troop carriers lined up behind them and the troops moved into them with purpose.
“They are gathering for another offensive.” A young man said.
“What do they want with us?” A voice came from the back.
“Maybe they just want us in here to keep us from causing trouble and they will let us go when they have got what they want.”
A man laughed from near the back of the hanger, “Naïve little girl.” He said.
“Leave her alone, at least she has hope.”
The man shook his head, “Take a look around the base, they have set up a bridgehead, they have set up a strong defense and they have the advantage in technology…” He paused, “We are the slave labor, nothing more. They will work us to death or kill us after, if we manage to survive.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Yeah how the hell do you know?”
The man lowered his head, “My dad was in a German concentration camp during the Second World War, he used to describe the horrors he saw there in great detail. He said many of his friends were worked to death, hardly fed and kept in conditions just like this.”
The hanger went silent.
“I’m sorry.” The man said solemnly.
Steven was in a world of his own; his brain had nearly shut down and he was rocking slightly back and forth. He had not even noticed that a fresh batch of prisoners was being led through the compound.
General Sporrenberg stood just inside the entrance of the freshly built compound; he was generally pleased with the way things were going; although he did have a few concerns as he cast his beady eagle eye over the new captives.
“Advisor A come here!” He ordered.
The tall man with slick blonde hair and a thick blonde mustache slowly marched over to General Sporrenberg. He was wearing the black body armor that the rest of the troops wore but he did not wear a helmet.
“What is it General?” He spoke in a deep, booming voice.
“I have some concerns about the treatment of the Aryan prisoners; they seem to be being treated the same as the scum?”
“With all due respect Sporrenberg until we have the facilities to separate them completely we need to use them as a resource to get the building work completed. We are at a delicate stage of the operation. The population is extremely hostile towards us and it would be wise not to treat them differently until we are in a stronger position.”
Sporrenberg’s features darkened briefly but he nodded. “Yes you are right.”
The general’s features lightened as he spotted something that peaked his interest.
“Stop right there!” He ordered and he marched forwards towards one of the prisoners.
The column halted. Sporrenberg had his hawk-like eyes set on his prey; he walked around the young women in front of him. He placed his gloved hand on her chin and lifted her head; he stared straight into her dark eyes and noticed a fire still burning within them.
Sporrenberg smiled, “Have this one brought to my quarters, have her cleaned before had.”
The two soldiers hesitated, “Sir she is only two percent Nordic.”
Sporrenberg licked his lips, “Just do it!”
The soldiers dragged the women from the line but she dug her heels in and tried to struggle.
“No, get the hell off of me, I won’t do it, I’d rather die!” She shouted.
Steven snapped out of his trance, he would recognize that voice anywhere. He wearily got to his feet and looked out through the bars. To his horror he saw Pamela being led away from the line of prisoners.
“No leave her alone you fuck heads!” He shouted as he started to shake the bars.
“Steve, Steve help me.” She shouted.
Sporrenberg flew off of the handle, “Get that subhuman out of his cell and bring him to me now!” He screamed, his face was scarlet red.
“Get away from the bars.” A man said to Steve but he did not listen.
Two black-clad soldiers pushed their weapons through the bars and ordered all the other captives to stay where they were. Another soldier opened the door and punched Steven in the ribs; he released his grip on the bars.
“Leave him alone!” One of the prisoners shouted.
“Yeah assholes get away from him!”
A group rushed the soldier but they only got a few steps before the other two soldiers opened fire, the rounds flew forwards and struck the onrushing prisoners. The smell of burning flesh spread in the hanger. The men and women who were struck fell to the floor and died almost instantly, the soldiers kept firing and hit a few prisoners that were innocent bystanders.
Steven was dragged out in front of Sporrenberg.
“Turn that woman around.” He ordered, “Make her watch.” He smiled.
Pamela was turned around then restrained; one of the soldiers gripped her head and forced her to look in Sporrenberg’s direction.
The ex-SS General struck Steven in the stomach with a forceful blow, Steven doubled over in pain; the wind was knocked out of him. The soldiers hoisted him to his feet and Sporrenberg struck him again in the same spot, Steven crumpled and tears streamed down his cheeks, he gasped for air as he was hauled to his feet.
“Enough, he’s had enough.” Pamela said sternly.
Sporrenberg smiled, “Had enough has he? Ok I’ll let him be… my pet.”
Steven drew in deep breaths, he weakly looked up just in time to see Sporrenberg pull out his pistol from his hip, place it on his forehead and pull the trigger. The purple round flew through the man’s skull, the exit wound cauterized around the edges, while blood spattered the tarmac.
Pamela dropped her head and clamped her eyes closed tightly; she tried to hold back the tears but failed. Sporrenberg walked up to her and slapped her hard around the face.
“I want her ready in my room in twenty minutes.” He ordered.
"Sporrenberg, aren't you forgetting something?" His Advisor asked him. "You need to be ready for your performance… You can play with your toy afterward." The disgust in his voice was hard to ignore.
Anger once again flashed across the General’s face for the briefest of moments.
“Yes you’re right my aid, work before pleasure.” He smiled and he strode off towards his quarters.
“Aid, get my clean uniform ready for me.”
“Yes General.” Advisor A said and then shook his head.
Blackbird
An air force technician waited in a sparse meeting room for his superior officer. The room was a small rectangular box with two wooden chairs and a small wooden coffee stained table, a single small glass of water was placed in front of the technician.
Finally, a man in a pristine uniform strode in and placed a large cardboard folder on the table. The man, who had thinning grey hair flicked open the folder and had a quick skim read through the last three pages.
He sighed, "Ok Airman you requested this meeting, please enlighten me to the reason why my trainees were transferred to Wright Patterson in the first place?"
The technician picked up the glass of water and took a nervous swing, his hands were shaking.
“Sir, a request for the trainees to be transferred to Wright Patterson was approved two months ago to work on a black ops project…”
“What project?” The older man snapped.
“With all due respect Sir, I am unable to release the details to you.”
The older man snarled, “Listen here you piece of shit, my trainees should be working with NASA for the next moon landing missions, nothing is more important than that.” The man leaned over and poked the technician firmly in the chest, “So you will tell me everything, unless you want to spend the rest
of your life cleaning toilets!”
The technician shrugged, “Sir I called you’re here because we have lost contact with the base, the trainees’ handler should have filed his report four hours ago. We tried to contact him and then when we received no answer we tried to contact the base but we can’t raise anybody.”
The senior officer sat back in his chair, “Nobody in the whole of Wright Patterson is answering?”
The technician shook his head.
“What was going on there that has made you so adamant that you refuse to answer my questions?”
The technician let a nervous smile slip, “I’m not worried about telling you sir, I’m worried about those guys stood at the door.” He nodded to the cloudy glass door behind him.
The officer looked behind him, stood behind the door were two blurry figures in dark clothing. The two figures opened the door and stood in the doorway.
The officer reacted angrily; he rose and strode toward the two men.
"I don't know who you are or how you got here but I am getting security to lock you up, this is a serious security breach."
The two men smiled in unison and then spoke, “Lieutenant colonel Crichton please calm down, the security teams are well aware of our presence, now please take a seat. This is a matter of great importance and we share your concern about your trainees.” The two men gestured for him to take a seat.
The Lieutenant colonel suddenly felt his desire to argue flow away, he felt dazed, like he was in a kind of strange dream. He mumbled something as he sat down and stared at the table.
“Thank you for understanding Crichton.” The two men locked their eyes onto the technician, even though they were wearing sunglasses, the technician could still feel their burning eyes.
“Technician Black, thank you for your help, you are dismissed.”