Ok, So this is the Trust Chronicles world. For those of you who don't know what the story is about, it's about a man named John Rivers who used to work for the CIA, but now works for a socialist organization the EAS. Read the story to find out more.
Thanks, if you read, please comment. Not that I really expect anyone to, I'm just doing this for kicks. Chow.
- Created By penguin the spork
Finally, Part Three: Berlin; Chapter 6: The Berlin Identity
Chapter 6: The Berlin Identity
The flight to Berlin was uneventful. As Bobo and John’s identities were plastered all over Interpol agencies everywhere, they were undercover. They passed through security in Paris as Ron Smoke and Bob Mirrors. They traveled separately of course; they were even on different planes. The rendezvous point was the Das Fuenkin hotel in downtown Berlin. They checked in separately. John came first, asking for room 203. Then Bobo sauntered up and requested 202. Nobody except the two of them noticed that these were adjoining rooms. Then, at exactly 2:02, they both unlocked their doors. John entered Bobo’s room. “Well, it’s time to get started, friend. Where?”
Bobo responded in whispered tones that mirrored John’s own. “A contact told me about a series of break-ins to government facilities, mainly factories, on Berlin’s west side. I say we stake out one and see what we can find out.”
“That sounds like a plan. Here, I checked these out from the gadget library. These invisible earpieces will work nicely. You can approach from one side and I’ll approach from the other. If we see something, we can communicate via these. So, where we going?”
Bobo pulled a map out of his bag. “There’s a warehouse, here. That’s where. Also, there’s a gun dealer, Old Larry, en route to the warehouse. Stop by and pick out a handy piece, something better than that sham of a handgun the CIA issued you. Just tell him the Dark Knight sent you. He’ll understand. We leave at 0600 hours tomorrow. You should leave earlier, so you aren’t late.”
“Dark night, eh?” John remarked with a chuckle.
Bobo interrupted his moment, “Make contact only when necessary, you never know who could be watching. Now let’s get some sleep.” John crept out of the room without another word.
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John rose at 0500. He donned a black leather overcoat, and made his way to an abandoned alleyway about a half-mile away from the warehouse. Well, almost abandoned. There was only one living creature in the alleyway besides John. This man had a flowing brown shawl on, that looked quite lumpy.
“Whatcha be wantin’?” His English was perfect, but his German accent was thick.
“Are you Old Larry?” John asked.
The man jumped down from his roost on a dumpster and strode up to John, and pulled up to his full height, which was about 6’5”. “Who wants to know?” He countered, venom clear in his voice.
“Smoke, Ron Smoke. The Dark Knight sent me.”
“The Dark Knight, hmm? Very well, come in.” He gestured to the dumpster behind him. As they entered, he threw back his hood. John could see his shaven bald head that starkly contrasted his long brown locks. The inside of the dumpster was empty of garbage. All manner of guns arrayed the walls. There were the shiny M-16s, which consequently looked very similar to Bobo’s. John mentally reprimanded himself. Of course they look like Bobo’s, he probably bought his from Larry. John threw his “sham of a handgun” on the table.
“I’m looking for a replacement for this.” he sneered the word this with contempt. “Probably with a little more fire power.”
“Ah yes, CIA issue, six shot magazine if I’m not mistaken. Are you sure the Dark Knight sent you?”
“My allegiances have changed recently. I now work for the EAS.”
“That’s fine, young man, just fine. Now I would recommend the Z-1 German-made auto-handgun. A slightly longer muzzle provides more accuracy, while the 20 shots per trigger pull have deadly force in any battle, especially a large scale one.” He picked it up of its holster on the wall. “Now I suppose you’ll be travelling the world, correct?” John nodded. “Since you won’t be able to purchase ammunition, you will need a large supply.” He pulled a pouch from a drawer under the table. “This contains 1,500 trigger pulls worth of ammo in it. Since the bullets are small this is possible. I customized this one especially for spies on assignment.” He threw open a small compartment on the Z-1 and poured the contents of the pouch into it. He then proceeded to close it again. When these bullets run out, push the button inside that compartment. The small bullet muzzle will kick out, leaving the back able to shoot regular bullets.”
“Wow. That’s a nice gun. How much?”
“For you, nothing. I owe the Dark Knight. Just tell him we’re even, got it?”
“Right.” John grabbed his gun, weighing it in his hand. Yes, this would do nicely. With a quick word of thanks to Larry, he left to begin the stakeout.
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John saw Bobo lying flat on the other side of the warehouse. He broke the radio silence. “Nice guy, that Larry, eccentric at times, but ok. He says to tell the Dark Knight that you and he are even.”
Bobo chuckled. “Yeah, he’s a nice guy, but he really can’t expect hooking you up with a gun for free would make us even. I’ve got to remember to go back there sometime.”
“Why not after this?” John inquired curiously.
“I don’t think there will be an after this,” he replied forebodingly. “Don’t forget what happened in Paris.”
Just then John caught sight of movement at the entrance to the warehouse. “Bogie at south entrance!” he announced, warningly.
“I see him.”
“Confront?”
“No, I’ll handle this.”
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Bobo had a thing for entrances. Usually they were made from heights, though sometimes they could involve blowing stuff up or knocking down walls. It was all part of his mind game. The more an opponent was intimidated by the suddenness or size of an entry, the more likely they were to make mistakes and to generally fear him. Bobo used this factor now to full advantage as he jumped from the building from which he was watching to the open window of the building he was watching. Jumping down to the floor of the building, he startled the person he was stalking. The person whirled round to face his attacker, but Bobo was ready, his M-1 at the ready. The person immediately threw his hands in the air.
“Who are you and who are you with?” he growled.
The person’s mock helplessness faded a little too early. Bobo saw him start to drop his hands and made to slide kick him to the ground. The man however was ready and jumped the move, grabbing Bobo in a headlock as he landed. Bobo continued to struggle and cavort until the attacker pulled a knife as they faced away from John. The attacker spoke softly. “I’m with the Krada Va.”
If he hadn’t had a knife to his throat, Bobo would have started. Instead, his eyes bulged, making him look like some sort of bug. He managed to choke out, “Who?”
“Some know us as the hand of Marshall. We are his mob. We do his work to better the world. I’m here to pick up supplies for the riot. In Berlin. Tomorrow. Too bad you won’t live to see i-“
“John, now.”
John shot a round of 20 small bullets into him. Bobo leapt free.
Yeah, the action scene is a little rough. Gonna start now on Chapter 7. Chow.
This is the first three chapters.
Prologue
It was dark. All was still. I was waiting silently for them. It was then that the ninjas attacked. I fought them off best I could but it was for naught. I was captured, helpless. I was putty in their hands. “Prepare to die,” one said. It was over. All those people I failed. All those innocent lives lost in this one murder. All was los-
“Stop.”
I couldn’t believe my luck. For an instant I was free.
“I want him alive.”
A cold dread washed over me. So this was Marshall; the tormentor of despots, the killer of killers. Why would he be working with the ninjas? It didn’t matter; they would get the information or kill me eventually. Both options would mean doom for the world. The EAS had lost.
Part 1: Antarctica
Chapter 1: Socialism
The Eastern Alliance Socialists were not a large or well known group. They were not elite, nor were they novices. They were just a group help keep the minds of the American people open. Or at least that’s what they told every one. They were actually an underground subversion group. They were there to make America fall. They were the end. They were the problem with the American Democracy. Or at least that’s what the President and Congress maintained. And they were probably right. But thanks to carefully placed propaganda, people thought otherwise. In reality the group was neither of these things. They were the protectors of the world. They held secrets that no one knew. They had done things considered reprehensible in almost every country on earth. But that didn’t matter in Antarctica. This was where they were based, where nobody cared.
Deep within the land mass lay a twisting labyrinth of tunnels. These tunnels were made of carbon steel coated on the outside with Boron. If anybody decided to just detonate a nuclear weapon on Antarctica and be rid of them forever, they were sadly mistaken. This fortress was impenetrable to every force known to man. Except for one: subterfuge. And thus, ever since the beginning the New United Nations has been trying to infiltrate the EAS. And now we must turn our attentions to one of those attempts in progress.
“There has got to be a better way to do this,” said the worthless pawn, whose name happened to be John Rivers. But no one cared about that. His was only the latest in a series of unsuccessful attempts to figure out what was going on. The EAS hadn’t been active during the last few months, and the NUN figure that they were planning something big. They were right. So as he hurried down the hall, he tried to figure out how he was going to get out of this situation. His instincts told him the EAS were on to him; hence why he was called down to Briefing Room # 12 late that afternoon. He arrived at his destination and cautiously opened the door after a soft knock. He had expected a squadron of Imperial Raiders, what he found was quite different. Mr. Burns, his associate Mr. Lincoln, and one guard were waiting for him in the room. Burns was a tan, burly man, who looked slightly Italian. If there was an accent in his voice, it was not recognizable. “Please sit down Mr. Rivers,” he said rather pleasantly. Too pleasantly for John. He immediately tensed. Was this some kind of trap? If so, he had walked straight into it. These guys were good, no doubt about it.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Burns?”
“Yes. Let’s get straight to the point. We know you are a spy.”
John felt the urge to rise, but Burns stopped him.
“Wait, hear me out. As you know, we have captured all your governments other worthless attempts at spying; what makes them think that you will be different?” he rose. “They didn’t think. They just want to keep us on our toes. This is a game of silence. They are waiting for us to do something. The truth is, we have been doing things, they just don’t know about it.”
“What kind of things?” John asked, skeptically.
“We have been trying to rid the world of the Inequtus.” John frowned. “By your expression I can tell you have never heard of them. They are undermining all the world’s governments. They have agents everywhere. The only place we are free of them is here. We have reason to believe your government is totally controlled by them. We have almost everything we need to rid the world of them. We only have one thing left to acquire.”
“And what would that be?” Asked John, with a note of sarcasm audible in his voice.
“You,” said Burns, simply.
Chapter 2: Subterfuge
“What?” exclaimed John, incredulously. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I were, Mr. Rivers, I wish I were.”
“Why do you need me?”
“Simple, no one suspects you. You are a novice. They would not expect you to do anything to hurt them. You are the perfect spy.”
“If I’m a novice then why trust me?”
“Because we see something in you, something different, a spark, if you will. You are different, destined to save the world perhaps.”
“How do I know this threat is real?”
“Wait a week. They are planning a coup then. A country will fall. There will be abrupt changes in policy. You will see. Come back next week with your decision. You may leave.”
John abruptly got up, gathered his things, and left the room. He returned to his room and stayed deep in thought for many hours. Then, the day came almost as quickly as he had left the Briefing Room. He turned on the television and there it was, plain as day on CNN: Russian Prime Minister Boris Checov resigns; handpicks replacement.
So it had happened. Checov would never resign, he was too power crazy. It was time. He strode down to Burns’ office.
“Ah! Rivers! I take it you heard the news?”
“Yes. I’ve decided to work for you. American Democracy cannot be jeopardized.”
“Very good, I have your assignment here.” He handed John some papers. “You will start on that first thing tomorrow. Good day.”
As John slowly retreated from the room, he wondered. Is this the right thing to do? Yes, it must be. America is the greatest country on earth. It is worth being considered a traitor to preserve that.
Part Two: Paris
I already had this written when I created this world so here goes. I usually will only post a chapter or two at a time though.
Part 2: Paris
Chapter 3: The Tarmac Encounter
John boarded the plane that waited on the underground tarmac the next morning. The plane started up and the tarmac was quickly raised. By the time it reached the surface the plane was already in the air. The plane was under the guise of a private airliner from America, bound for Paris. Why didn’t the CIA know about this? Had Marshall censored the information? John cleared his mind. He had to focus on the mission. His thoughts drifted towards that subject as the Eiffel Spire loomed over the horizon. Once the Eiffel Tower, the militarization of France had caused dictator Antonio DeChouvelin to order the tower be converted into a show of power. The newly renamed “Spire” was armed with anti-aircraft batteries, automated machine gun turrets, and specially trained snipers. Anything, man, tank , or aircraft within a one mile radius could be destroyed in about 5 seconds. As the tower grew bigger on the horizon, the pilot announced that they would be landing. John steeled himself for the task at hand.
As he stepped off the plane a man in a tight business suit strode out to meet him. ”Hello, Mr. Rivers, welcome to the country we call France. I’ve been sent out to welcome you to the country. As the American liaison to France, I’m sure I will be able to guide you through your stay here.”
Rivers nodded apologetically, “Thank you for your kind offer sir, but I am quite capable of guiding myself through the city.”
“But sir-” The liaison turned the color of a white sheet.
“It will be quite alright. I shall tke the blame from your superiors.” God- he was even starting to act like a conniving EAS agent now. He made a mental note to correct the personality flaw later.
“Very well, this way.” The man did not look particularly reassured, but moved toward the terminal none the less. As the great philosophers say; “Onward and upward.”
Chapter 4: The Spire Unleashed
It was around midnight. A dark figure stole along the base of the Eiffel Spire. The black night embraced him, and the warm air along the Seine riverfront shielded him from infrared scanners. But not for long. Where he was going, there was no way to even step through the door without unleashing the full might of the Spire. But this had to be done, for John’s mission was to implant a radiation chip in the French diplomatic building that would make them resistant to efforts by the Inequtus to take over the country. Simple enough, or so it seemed. What the EAS didn’t bother to tell him is that all government buildings were located at the foot of the Spire. In order to infiltrate the complex, he would be taking on 20 tons of artillery. So now, as John approached the entrance he used all the stealth and defense skills at his disposal to make sure he was safe. After a final sweep of the area around the door, he determined the area to be safe and he opened the door.
Nothing happened. Immediately John knew something was wrong. As he crept further in he heard something scuttle behind him. He spun round to confront the unknown force. It was all they needed. The ninjas sprung upon him. He tried to fight tem off, but there were too many. He pulled out his German made piece and managed to get a shot off before having it knocked out of his hand by an angry nun-chuck. He was done, finished. Then he heard the distinct crack of an M-16. Chaos reigned in the atrium. Ninjas dropped like flies. Finally all the ninjas lay dead. The unknown shooter jumped down from his roost in the rafters above. “Bobo,” he proclaimed. “Happy to save your life.”
“Umm…thanks,” he remarked John, still shaken by the encounter. “Who are you with?”
“I’m with the EAS. I thought you could use some help. Turns out I was right. Shall we then?”
As they stepped forward to complete the mission, the Spire opened fire. Windows shattered, and the mission was jeopardized once again.
Chapter 5: Duck, Cover, and Pursue
“Hit the deck!” Bobo shouted as shots reigned down from the Eiffel Spire. “Do you know the fire fake technique?”
“In theory. I learned it in training, but-“
“No time to discuss it, fool! Execute!”
“Ahh! I’m hit!” John cried out in mock pain. “No! Bobo!”
They heard the shooting stop, and someone cry out, “I see them! There both dead!”
Another voice shouted out of the darkness, “Great! Now we can go home!”
They waited another 10 minutes before rising. “That was a close one,” John said as he shook the rubble off himself.
Bobo also rose slowly. “Come on, complete the mission and then we’ll blow this joint.”
“Right.” John jogged to the back of the building and set the chip in the back of the diplomatic records book. The blue-green chip became clear on contact. As John arrived back in the atrium, Bobo began talking. “Burns wants us for debriefing in the Paris office. We’d better go.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
Mission complete, the two agents walked down the early morning streets of Paris.
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At first glance, the EAS Paris office is nothing more than an abandoned warehouse in Paris’ industrial district. The dirt and grime mask the true purpose, an entrance to what many EAS agents fondly refer to as the Paris underground. It is this entrance that John and Bobo approached at 3:00 A.M. Paris time. They reached a rotting box and Bobo spoke the password: mango-lemon sauce. A large trapdoor slid open in front of the box, revealing a labyrinth of dark tunnels beneath. John went first and slid down the tunnel. Bobo followed. The darkness was deeper than John had ever experienced. It shifted and flowed, all the while becoming darker and deeper. When he reached the bottom it was pitch dark. A blue light shot on as Bobo reached the bottom. “Identification please?” The mechanical voice drifted out of a speaker above him.
“John Rivers”
“Confirmed.” The light shifted to Bobo now. “Identification?”
“Bobonius Virna, EAS, third-class special-ops agent.”
“Confirmed. Please sit down.” A pair of chairs were illuminated in the darkness. John and Bobo took their seats. Then, all the lights in the room snapped on. Burns sat at the end of the table in front of the two agents.
“Ah, John and Bobonius, it is truly good to see you again. Now, please explain the little incident that is all over world headlines this morning.” His tone changed rapidly from welcoming to urgent.
“Well, I was infiltrating the French diplomatic complex as my mission stipulated. The complex, as you know is at the base of the Eiffel Spire, so I proceeded with caution. I ascertained that the door was safe to open, and entered. I heard activity behind me so I spun around to confront them, and that’s when I was ambushed by ninjas.”
Bobo continued. “I was in the rafters, stationed as back up for the agent on Mission 7. When Agent Rivers was overwhelmed by the ninjas I opened fire. They were soon neutralized. I then revealed myself to Agent Rivers. It was then that the Spire opened fire. We executed the fire fake technique and managed to fool the authorities. John then completed the mission and you contacted me.”
“Well, this is worse than I thought. The presence adds another layer to the plot. The presence of ninjas means that the Inequtus are involved. France, however, is under Marshall’s control. I must then conclude-”
“Wait just one second, who’s this Marshall person?” John was confused. Another enemy?
“We originally believed that the Inequtus were in control of the U.S. Now, our intelligence tells us that a man named Marshall threw the Inequtus out about a decade ago. His cells flourished in France and they migrated to America. When he took power, the Inequtus moved to Canada. Now Marshall has a band of goons running around the world trying to take out EAS agents around the world. They apparently have partnered with the Inequtus in order to destroy America’s last hope for Democracy. I am assigning you to stop them. There are reports of their activity in Berlin. Hound out anything you can on them, and pursue them. Do not let them slip away.” And with that he dismissed them. “Bobo, please hang back.”
John looked back quizzically, but left as he was told. Meanwhile, in the debriefing room, Burns whispered quickly with Bobo. “Are you sure you are capable of what you need to do?”
Bobo responded with a cold stare. “I will do what I must sir, I will do what I must.”
“Be sure of that.”
And with that, Bobo strode out of the room to embark on the next step of his adventure.
There were some plot kinks which I worked out in chapter 5, so excuse the length. Look for Part 3:Berlin Chapter 6: The Berlin Identity Coming Soon.
End
