by Byrd, Daniel
“Sir, we just received word from the rehab facility.”
“And?”
“You were correct.” The Russian chose his next words carefully. “They reported an American male and Russian female inquiring as to your whereabouts.”
“Any word on Vlad?” The man remained quiet, and Lewis didn’t take too kindly to that. “Vlad! Orlok! Ruthven! Whatever the hell name he goes by! Answer me!”
“His last report was twenty minutes ago…”
Lewis didn’t like being in the dark. “Tell me, soldier.”
“There was an incident in Berlin.”
Lewis swore and placed his hand over his eyes. “Germans, or Americans?”
“That’s just it, sir,” the Russian continued, “the report from there is that there were only four enemies. Two were indeed in American Military fatigues, but the other two were unknown.”
“Where are they?!” Lewis shouted. His subordinate visibly quivered. Makoto couldn’t blame him. Jackson Lewis was a terrifying presence.
“They were last seen fleeing north from the memorial site.”
Lewis grunted. “You’re sure of that?”
“Yes, sir,” The Russian said, every attempt to satisfy his leader like a dog, “from Berlin. Sir, they killed a few of our men. They’re armed, and they must know what’s going on…”
Lewis ignored the last bit. “Straight there…” He turned, lifted his boot, and kicked Makoto square in the mouth. A sickening crunch carried throughout the chamber, and blood poured onto the ground beneath Makoto’s face. Lewis lifted him up by the straps of his armor. “Who are you working with!”
Makoto could feel blood flowing from his busted lips. “No one else.”
“Honesty might be one of your fucking codes, but I don't buy that shit!” Lewis raised a fist and struck him in the jaw, knocking a tooth out. “Answer me!”
Makoto’s face hit the ground, blood pooling beneath his lips. A trail of red saliva followed him up as Lewis lifted him by the neck back to face him. Another slug forced him to close his left eye from the sheer pain. Then the kicks followed. Even with his armor still on, Makoto could feel the power of each foot driven into his chest, over and over again. His ribs were cracking, and a bit of blood came up with each bit of air Lewis knocked out of him. After the seventh blow, Lewis knelt down next to Makoto.
“Lydia and Aaron are on my property, and now a few assailants are heading north of Berlin after killing some of my men!”
“I do not know of the others,” Makoto wheezed. He judged by how hard Lewis brought his fist down on his head that he wasn’t buying it.
“Bullshit! I know you’re all up to something! None of you are dumb! We all took down Tiamat Unbound, so I know what you’re all capable of! Don’t fuck with me!”
Makoto’s thoughts weren’t too clear. “I don’t know who the people in Berlin are…”
“Fine! If you’re going to be like that, maybe I can jog your memory a bit!” Lewis stood up and marched over to his subordinate. “Give me your radio.”
“Sir?”
“Did I stutter? Give me your damn radio!” Reluctantly, he handed it over to Lewis, who fiddled around with the signal a bit before keying the microphone. “This is Abzu. Can you hear me?”
Makoto was clinging to consciousness, but he could hear the voice on the other end reply. Whoever it was sounded American as well. “Yes, Abzu. What is it?”
“Are you aware of the incident in Berlin?”
“Quite aware, actually. Ruthven has already contacted me. He’s successfully acquired the package.”
Makoto couldn’t place a face to the voice. Whoever it was probably wasn’t a fellow former member of the PMC. He noticed that Lewis was calmer as he spoke.
“I just got word that what I predicted came true. Craven and Dedov are in Oranienburg.”
The other voice sounded disappointed. “That’s unfortunate. It seems as though your loose ends are a problem after all…”
“They don’t have to be. You’re aware that the group responsible for the mishap in Berlin is headed north as well?”
“Yes, actually. One of the decoy helicopters had a bead on them traveling up A10. They’re headed straight for Oranienburg themselves.”
Lewis laughed. “It’s not a coincidence. They have to be some extra help. This would be the best time if any for my contingency plan. Don’t you agree?” There was silence. Makoto raised his head slightly from the ground. Something bad was going on, and all that he knew was that Aaron and Lydia were a part of it.
“If they’re going fast enough, they’ll reach Oranienburg in the next few minutes. Are you proposing what I suspect?”
Lewis had to hold back a cackle. “I’m not proposing a math problem, that’s for damn sure.”
“It’s your call. If you feel you’ve been compromised, then it’s an option. It will definitely divert attention. In fact, it’ll allow our troops in Berlin to escape. I don’t see many downsides.”
“And if I’m lucky, I’ll kill more than two birds with one stone.” He looked back to Makoto with a wicked grin.
“Do what you must. Also, I’m interested in that new one you’ve brought in. If he survived against the beast in the basement then he’s prime material. Bring him to the lab when you can.”
“After I deal with the first problem.” Lewis replied. The man on the other side sounded too eager with his response.
“Of course. I’ve got plenty of time, and what I want is already on its way. Give me a chance to get the news sites up on my monitors first. I want to see how this develops.”
“Sure thing.” Lewis said, and tossed the radio back to the Russian. Makoto dreaded what he was about to do next as the large man walked towards him once more. Another blunt strike to the head was going to put him out cold. Instead, Lewis stood over him, glaring down with malice. “Once again you're going to be responsible for a death. Sorry, many deaths.”
“What…what are you talking about,” Makoto groaned at his feet.
“You have blood on your hands already, and I'm not speaking about the many you killed under Tiamat Unbound.” He turned his back and began to leave the room once again. “You killed your own brother for what you believe in. We both know that. He stood in your way, and you cut him down like anyone else.”
In Makoto’s daze he thought back to that fateful day on the mountaintop in the Caucasus region. His vision shifted to white, and the cavernous room was replaced with the whiteout of a raging snowstorm. A gray silhouette was before him, and the snowfall began to lighten to reveal the body of his brother, Toya Nagase. Makoto squinted, unsure if what was before him was real or not. Toya’s figure was motionless in the snow, with red slowly seeping into the slush around it. The gash in his leg was barely visible, but there. It was the fatal wound that finally ended the onslaught between the brothers. Of course, it would have been had Toya not taken his own life with his replica Muramasa. The legends spoke of the curse of the blade, and Makoto understood it all too well after that day. He couldn't stand the thought of wielding it himself, so he passed it on to his student, who now stood before him a traitor to his lessons. Makoto closed his eyes as the pain of the sight overtook him, and when he opened them again he was staring at the dimly-lit back of Lewis.
“More will die today for your actions. Back then he died because you forsook your mission. While that turned out well for you in the end, I can't say the same for the thousands that will soon perish.”
“L-Lewis…”
“It's too late for regrets.” Lewis continued to walk towards the exit, where his subordinate awaited his orders. A heavy sigh came from him as he looked back to the samurai. “Now, you will rest here for a while in the safety of your prison. Your comrades, however…” He left the room and closed the door with a heavy iron slam. Once it was secure, he turned the light off and looked through the barred window of the door. “Let’s just say they'll be failing their little mission. Rest, and I'll come back for you late
r.”
With that, Lewis and the other mercenary walked away, leaving Makoto alone in his cell. Light from the hallway shone through the bars, giving the dark, hard room a chilling glimpse into the outside where a random patrol strolled by. The footsteps faded with time, and Makoto began to close his eyes.
“You're barmy to have crossed him.”
His eyes peeled open, blood still trying to clot one closed. Who was that?
“Did you one good, he did. Bloody can't believe you're alive.”
Makoto struggled to raise his head to respond. “Who are you?”
From the darkness the voice replied, “Hard to understand you. Must've lost some teeth in that scuffle. That or your accent is off. You're not from around here. Me? I'm just another bloke stuck here like you. Fortunately I've never drawn his ire. Seems like suicide.” There was a sound of shuffling in dirt. “Then again, I don't even want to live anymore.”
“Where are you?”
“It's dark in here. I'm in the back corner. My hands and legs are tied up. Apparently they don't trust me to not fight back.” There was a laugh. “Or not to harm myself either. Welcome to Hell, chap.”
Makoto’s head flopped back to the ground. The blood loss was finally getting to him, but he didn't want rest. He just wanted to help Craven and Dedov.
The man in the darkness huffed another laugh. “I wonder just how many more they'll kill today.”
***
“Where are we even going?!”
Mikhail thought about that himself before answering Jackson. “Well I suppose the farther away from there, the better?!”
“Yet the farther from our answers!” Roman protested as he inspected his leg wound. The first-aid box under the seat had the basic necessities for fighting off an infection, but nothing for the pain. “What is ahead of us?!”
“I believe Oranienburg,” Mikhail answered, “but we will not be there long! I know a place not far beyond that we can stop and rest safely!”
“Will there be anything equivalent to oxycodone?! Preferably something strong?!” Roman asked.
“In due time, Roman!” Mikhail replied, his eyes scanning the road around them. “Think of something else! Something happy?!”
Roman glared at the back of Jackson’s seat. Max didn't want to know what he was thinking, but whatever it was must've taken his mind off of the pain. Mikhail tapped Jackson on the shoulder, then pointed to the glovebox.
“Reach into there and hand me the radio out of it!”
Jackson did as he was asked, unsure of how the old man was going to use that with all of the wind. They really needed another car. Mikhail turned the top dial and then began speaking into it. Jackson didn't understand a damn bit of Russian, but Mikhail sounded a bit frantic. Mikhail waited a few moments before sputtering a few more words to himself as he tossed the radio to Jackson’s feet.
“What is wrong, Mikhail?!” Roman asked him. Mikhail sighed heavily. He proceeded to answer Roman in their native tongue, much to Jackson’s annoyance.
“My informant is not replying! Normally I receive an answer within half a minute. This is not good!”
“Which is this?! You have many, so I have a hard time believing I should be worried!”
“This one is currently one of the more vital ones! He is the one who made me privy to the exchange in Berlin!”
Roman swore. This was not their day. Jackson’s irritation was getting the better of him.
“Something we should know about, gentlemen?! It's rude to speak in another language in front of guests!”
“Nothing that concerns you!” Roman shot back.
“Is this the place?!” Max asked as a city came into view. Mikhail nodded.
“Welcome to the city the Americans hated the most during World War II!”
Max didn't understand. “Why’s that?!”
“I know of this place!” Jackson stated, brain turning gears. “This place was home to a German base during that time! The Allied Forces bombed the living hell out of it!”
“Mostly Americans, but correct!” Roman responded with obvious malice. Max didn't think he'd ever be easy next to him.
“Our next stop is past here!” Mikhail stated aloud. “Just keep your eyes peeled for anything abnormal. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to ensure that my friend is coming.”
“Friend?!” Jackson and Roman both repeated. Mikhail revealed another radio from beneath his coat. It was the one he had been using to keep up with Roman. After a quick tune, he began speaking in Russian to someone who replied on the other side. Whoever it was had a hard time hearing or something, because Jackson thought he was speaking way too loud. Then again, they were in a similar situation.
“Mikhail, you and your damn friends!” Roman complained as he worked on his leg some more.
***
Lewis walked with purpose down the tunnel, the Russian subordinate in tow. This decision would mean the loss of many more lives, and the destruction of his own front. Still, he couldn't afford loose ends now. Not while the world was still scouring for answers, and certainly not while he was still on many most wanted lists.
“Sir, what exactly does this entail?”
Lewis stopped walking, his mind racing. Was this the right decision?
“What will happen to the innocents?”
There wasn't any time to consider other options. It was as he said; this was the right moment to go through with the plan if any. There would certainly be a lot of attention drawn to that area, which would only benefit the goal.
The Russian mercenary was becoming more anxious. “Sir?”
“Unaccounted unexploded ordinance.”
The mercenary cocked his head to the side. “What?”
“Thousands still exist beneath German soil.” Lewis turned around. “Did you know that anywhere between ten and fifteen are found each day?”
“I…I cannot say that I do.”
Lewis nodded. “It usually only makes local news. It's not a problem back home in the States for most people. Most don't know the fear of living on potential time bombs. Years of corrosion tend to make things a bit more tense, and with every one found, the sense of danger is only heightened. All of that explosive potential underneath populated areas could interrupt daily lives at any moment. Doesn't that just sound terrifying?”
The mercenary didn't respond. He'd seen terrifying things before in his life. He'd lived during the end of the Cold War and saw what humanity was capable of. Being former KGB, he knew many things that would haunt him in his dreams every night. Lewis continued his lecture.
“Oranienburg, Germany. The location of my rehabilitation facility, and the home of thousands. Underneath the very surface of the city is some three hundred or more shells, bombs, and whatever else left over from the war. I've used a part of my fortune from Tiamat Unbound to seek out as many as I could, as the government does not fund the removal of many of the explosives.”
“That is kind of you,” the Russian responded. Lewis chuckled.
“Not entirely. See, I simply found them. The next part was…well that was much more difficult.”
“Having people remove them? I do not doubt the difficulty of such a task.” Lewis’ head began to lower, his eyes to the floor at the mercenary’s feet. “Sir?”
“I have to eliminate any and all threats to the plan. Sometimes, that takes drastic measures. Sometimes, that takes little effort.”
The mercenary shifted nervously in place. “Sir, what-”
Before he could even react, Lewis had drawn a blade. Hardly a second passed, and the Russian dropped to his knees at Lewis’ feet.
“A…Abzu…” the Russian fell forward and began to bleed out.
Lewis swung his replica Muramasa to dispose of the blood before sheathing the sword. He was a careful man, and it took a lot to maintain his secrecy. Noticing the unknown frequency that was set when he'd borrowed the Russian’s radio was all he needed to speculate with his level of paranoia. More people began to wal
k by, shock taking them all as they gazed upon the body. Lewis ordered the closest one forward.
“He's still alive. Take him to the lab. Inform the doctor that I need to speak with him and find out who he's been talking to. After that he's free to do whatever he wants with the bastard.”
Lewis stood where he was as the injured man was dragged away. It took another minute of careful consideration, but he was determined to follow through with the contingency. It was meant for the purpose of throwing off the UN if they ever caught wind of who he was and tracked him to his facility. To think it was now for just two people. Disgusted with the thought, he borrowed another radio from a nearby mercenary.
“You'd better hope I don't find an unknown frequency on this,” he warned as he adjusted it and prepared to call in the order.
***
“We’re going where?!” Lydia shouted.
“Italy,” Aaron responded calmly, checking his mirrors. “Look, I know it's far, but I don't trust this. Lewis wasn't there, and those two still haven't answered us. We have no other leads, so we may as well rendezvous with them. Something is wrong.”
Lydia didn't want to admit that she'd come to the same conclusion, but Aaron was pretty determined about this. She was supposed to be a team player anyway. She picked the radio up and keyed it.
“I'll try them one more-”
The city around them exploded.
Chapter Eighteen - Utter Chaos
Hamilton wasn't enjoying his trip. The train ride out of Berlin wasn't too bad, but it definitely wasn't expected. It stopped in Leipzig just an hour later before Ruthven had him escorted to an awaiting car. That trip didn't take too long either before he was transferred to a helicopter, which he now sat in the cabin of, bored. The worst part was the fact that his new employers felt it necessary to put a sack over his head for the remainder of the journey. He didn't even know if Ruthven was onboard with him at the moment. All he knew was that the interior of the chopper smelled like cologne, and a lot of it.
“Who smells?” Hamilton asked aloud. No one answered. “Can we play ‘I Spy’ or something?” The muffled sounds of the rotors was the only sound he heard. “I'm bored.”