Chapter 2-9.5: Pawn's Trial - Julian's Homecoming

Paul- United Human Faction- Day 22

            Julian entered Paul’s suite to find the room in complete disarray. Papers were scattered everywhere, clothing was strewn across the floor and bed, there was even a large splash of red paint on the wall. He walked into the room carefully, being sure to prop the door open with the nearby stop. He expected the worst, but found his friend diligently working on his console. In the center of the heap on the floor was a small piece of plastic, propped up by the chaos surrounding it.

            It read, “do not disturb.”

            Julian didn’t.

            He was forgiven.

Chapter 2-9: Pawn's Trial - Homecoming

Sharon- United Human Faction- Day 22

            “Welcome home Julian,” Sharon whispered as he entered the suite.

            “What did I miss?” Julian asked, half jokingly.

            “Paul is having a rough time. He’s nothing like Thomas, but he’s having doubts.”

            “I don’t think we need to worry about his loyalty, not after what happened with him and Karen.”

            “I’m not worried about loyalty, Julian. I’m worried about our friend.”

            “Yeah,” muttered Julian, putting down his bags and facing the door, “I think I’ll go pay him a visit.”

            Julian walked out the still open door, leaving the mask in Sharon’s room. She examined the strange artifact, and noticed it was not the same as when she had last seen it. It was still intact, and there was no sign of any damage, but its color was no longer as pure as when she had first made it. The fabric covering its wooden frame was turning slightly yellow. She couldn’t help thinking of Thomas, watching his friend walk up wearing this stained mask. It was a sickening scene, and she couldn’t get it out of her mind. They were doing something wrong.

            She reached down to the filing cabinet next to the bed, and examined the officers’ roster. There was one name that caught her attention. Richard Campbell, Second Level Chief of Combat Operations. Paul had said something about this singular individual, but no one else. Everyone was ordinary except for this man. This man was evil. He was a villain, and he needed to be kept away from the hero’s job. Beginning the next day, he would be Level Three Chief of Incarcerated Hostiles. That fit his personality.

Chapter 2-8: Pawn's Trial - Slap on the Wrist

Julian- United Human Faction- Day 20

            Julian, mask and all, opened the door to Thomas’ SUV. The former face of the Faction sat at the wheel, leaning deep into his seat. The war was taking its toll on him almost as much as it had on Paul. He had been forced to drive through hostile territory for almost three weeks, hiding any connection he had to the Faction. That was not part of the Plan.

            “Did you enjoy your vacation?” asked Julian, coldly.

            Robert eyed the off-white mask and worn shirt of his leader, and replied, “Your plan can’t work.”

            Julian wasn’t surprised by Thomas’ lack of enthusiasm. The only founding member who had failed his mission was beginning to complain. God forbid he would blame himself. Julian’s plan was at fault. The masked man almost smiled at the thought of executing the bastard as a traitor.

            “And why not, Thomas? Is it because we lost New York, the hub of American economic activity? Or is it because Colorado, the state you promised the capture of, is practically neutral? Maybe it’s because the one member who was intended to be the figurehead of the revolution fell off the radar the second fighting broke out. You are no longer part of the Plan Thomas. However, I personally think that you would make an excellent spy for the Faction, seeing as you hid from the enemy for twenty days without even giving off that aura of superiority you produce so… flamboyantly.”

            “You don’t have the right to order me around, I was working toward our goals before you even took the idea seriously.”

            “I won’t give you orders, Thomas,” said Julian, exiting the car. “You’ll be at the mercy of the newly promoted Operational Director, a man named Carlos, who you might recognize. Have fun.”

            Thomas punched the car horn as hard as he could while Julian calmly walked away. Had there not been a sniper watching them, he probably would have directed his anger at the man causing it, or at least the mask that corrupted his former friend.

Chapter 2-7: Pawn's Trial - Animals in Uniform

Paul- United Human Faction- Day 20

            Paul’s seaside hotel room was as quiet as he could make it. The war was taking its toll on him, and the exhaustion was visible on his face. He lay on top of the bed, too tired to unmake it himself. Every computer monitor was turned off, and the phone was disconnected. He had ten full minutes of peace, more than he had had in almost two years.

            The sound of a keycard in the door pulled him out of his trance. Sharon entered the room and walked directly to the foot of his bed. He waited to see if she would leave him be, but after a few moments he gave in and opened his eyes. Sharon threw a folder onto his lap.

            “Restore Richard to Field Agent status,” she said, bluntly.

            “Richard who?” asked Paul, regaining consciousness.

            “You know exactly who, Paul,” Sharon yelled, taking the folder and throwing the first page into Paul’s face.

            He looked down at the page, and immediately recognized the face of what he had always dreaded would come out of his revolution.

            “No,” was his simple response.

            “He’s the kind of leader we need right now.”

            “He’s a sociopath! He murdered a prisoner of war!”

            “He wins his battles. That’s more than we can say for half our commanding officers.”

            “Sharon, the man threw poison gas into a cave. He’s a threat to the human race. If we give him power, he’ll turn the Faction into a mob. We are on the right side of worldwide sympathy, and he could ruin that!”

            “The plan doesn’t call for good foreign relations.”

            “You know what Sharon,” began Paul, now standing, “I believed in the plan, I really did. But now you and Julian are going too far. We are not going to commit crimes against humanity for your fanciful vision.”

            “We need more countries to join the fray,” hissed Sharon.
            “I won’t let this man commit atrocities,” finished Paul, returning to his bed.

            Sharon packed up her documents and left the room. She had tried to give Paul at least half of his will, leaving Richard at his assigned position. Now, though, she had to think of the plan. Richard would be promoted to the rank of Field Commander, taking over Carlos’ job. It was their only path to victory.

Chapter 2-6: Pawn's Trial -

Richard- United Human Faction- Day 15

            Everything was ready and in its place. Two humvees, packed to their limits with Faction soldiers, sat in the underground garage of their makeshift forward operating base.  Richard sat in the middle seat of the front vehicle, waiting for the right moment to move out. The minute hand of his watch almost perfectly lined up with its partner, and Richard let out a loud whistle. Both behemoths’ engines started immediately, and they were on their way.

            Richard’s company moved forward in relative quiet until a massive explosion rocked the front humvee. The driver struggled to get back on course as the rear passengers moved away from the now-cracked windows.

            The front passenger, a former soldier in the US Army, yelled back to Richard, “Are those shells supposed to be aimed at us?”

            “Yes,” Richard practically whispered, “but they aren’t supposed to be hitting us. Get that radio running.”

            The soldier pulled the radio from its holster and checked for a signal. Once he found the enemy line, he hailed, “Overlord, this is Hammer 4, please respond.”

            There was no response. He hailed two more times; knowing Overlord had to be listening. The third time, he included emergency codes in the message. The radio lit up with the sounds of computers humming and a single voice.

            “Hammer 4, this is Overlord. It’s good to know it’s really you. How many others are with you? Over.”

            “We’ve got Hammer 3 in tow, but no others, over.”

            “Roger that Hammer, the doors are open. Out”

            The soldier put the radio back, and grabbed his weapon.  The US base was in view, and getting closer by the second. Richard donned his battered helmet, and climbed up into the turret of the vehicle. The base was more fortified than their scouts had claimed, and a massive gate blocked the only visible entrance. The pair of vehicles slowly entered the first gate, and stopped at the second.

            “Overlord, Hammer. Why are there two gates at the entrance of firebase seven-three-seven? Over,” called the soldier over the radio.

            “Hammer, Overlord, ready for ID, maintain radio silence, clear.”

            “ID? What does that mean?” yelled down Richard.

            His answer came in the form of a loud computerized voice echoing throughout the entire base. Their cover was blown. The sounds of soldiers preparing for combat were audible in every direction, even below the Faction crew.

            “Plan B, everyone get in position! Team two, break the door!” screamed Richard.

The humvees broke through the gate, allowing the second team’s humvee take most of the impact. It would not be needed much longer. The pair drove into the center of the complex. Team two vacated their humvee at the entrance to the underground section of the base. The Faction members took cover behind the first humvee while the soldier pulled out Richard's gas grenades.

            “Now!” yelled Richard.

            The second humvee detonated, completely blocking off the underground section of the base. The first, its job as cover now complete, sped out of the base to one of the nearby hills, ready for step two of the plan. Richard led the first team toward the command structure, while the second team threw Richard’s grenades through the gaps in their makeshift wall. They abandoned the soldiers underground to their fate and ran to the main barracks.

            There was surprisingly little resistance to the attack; most of the soldiers had been underground or in the armored barracks after the repeated shellings by Faction forces. The only troops Richard and his team saw in the base were those defending their target. As the entrance of the command tent came into view, three of Richard’s men suddenly fell to the ground.

            “Sniper!” screamed the soldier, dropping to the ground.

            Richard and Brian followed in suit, but the other two stood still, too terrified to move. Through the chaos Richard remained calculating. He was watching every gruesome detail, knowing that he would only survive if he remained stone cold. The sniper fired another silent shot, injuring one of the two left standing. Richard saw exactly what direction the shot had come from and stood himself. Pointing his weapon to where he knew his foe had to be, he fired until he heard the metallic ping of a bullet striking his foe's helmet. He continued to fire until he knew the sniper had been exterminated, then turned away.

            “Let’s finish this,” he whispered to the soldier, who sat shocked by the field agent’s cold glare.

            Brian followed his commander toward the tent as the soldier pulled this injured comrade away from the action. There was one man in the tent with a weapon; all the others were unarmed typists or officers. The guard lifted his weapon, but hesitated when Richard dropped his rifle to the ground. Brian ran into the tent expecting a combat, startling the guard. Brian fell to two weapons: the soldier’s rifle, and Senator Jeremy Glass' advice.

             "Expect death at every corner, kid," the suited man had said, "because there's a gunman in every tent." 

             Richard dispatched the guard, then turned to the officers. The men in the tent were already standing, hands locked tight behind their heads. Richard reloaded his revolver and turned to his audience. The one in the middle was obviously their leader. His poise gave away his rank far more definitively than the markings on his uniform. His slicked hair, blocky shoulders and unwillingness to take a submissive stance would be his end. Richard looked the Lieutenant Colonel in his shining blue eyes, then executed his first prisoner. Richard had loved the feeling of executing mob bosses, but there was something about this kind of war that felt even better. He was a force of nature, and not even honor would change his path.

Chapter 2-5: Pawn's Trial - Wisdom to be Twisted

Sharon- United Human Faction- Day 12

            The war effort was going better than it had on day one. Paul seemed in a better mood, although Julian was still rarely seen. Sharon spent her off hours wandering the wharf, admiring the scenery. She watched the tide ebb out, and worked as it swelled toward the shore. She spoke with the fisherman of the bay, learning about the lives of those she had so long ignored, but was now forced to lead.

            On the twelfth day of the war, she met a man who introduced himself only as “captain,” a name with new meaning those days. He was a classical sailor, with a large, grey beard and little company. She had noticed him sitting by the training docks before, but he had never taken notice of her.

            “War is fleeting thing, dearie,” he had told her when she passed by him.

            She turned back and asked him what he meant by that. He told her, “I’ve seen wars before, and this isn’t the worst of them. In all my life, I’ve never seen a war where the people were so comfortable. This’ll end, and everything’ll be the same afterward.”

            He turned his back on her, and she slowly wandered into the distance. Sharon took the old captain's words to heart on that day, and each day afterward. She eventually mustered up the confidence to tell Paul about the man, although she never truly understood what he had meant.

Chapter 2-4: Pawn's Trial - The King with the Crooked Smile

Richard- United Human Faction- Day 5

            There was no sound in Richard’s third day in the field, at least none he could recognize any more. Hours upon hours of combat had left him dulled and unready for command was doing. The other men around him, the civilian soldiers, yelled out commands and others followed. Richard, however said and heard nothing, only took aim and fired at those unlucky souls who remained loyal to the Union.

            As the days grew shorter, so did Richard’s patience. They were making no progress toward the East, and by the tenth day of fighting, many were beginning to lose hope in the cause. The leadership, within both the Faction Network and the volunteer army, kept the men in the field, even when they felt they were fighting for a dying cause.

            The trained soldiers on the other side felt the same way, though. The Faction never stopped pushing, truly believing in the cause they fought for. There was the sense of a goal, a shining light at the end of the tunnel, which wasn’t visible the US lines. Richard was one of those who really saw that light in its full glory.

            Returning to the offices, Richard requested a large number of materials. Every one was explosive. Carlos provided the goods. The one substance he paid no notice to was the most dangerous one. Richard built five of his specialized grenades and packed them into his humvee. He was done waiting for action to be taken. He went straight to Carlos again, requesting authority to lead an assault on the local base. The request was immediately made into an official order. Richard would have his knife. He would drive it into the heart of the enemy force. And they would know his name.

Chapter 2-3: Pawn's Trial - There's a Method to His Madness

Jeremy- United States Senate- Day 5

            There was no way Carlos would be seen on the front lines. He was a desk worker, even with his past in Ecuador. The Faction needed logistics, and that’s what he did best. The only problem was that someone had decided the best place for the command and control was also the best place for the prisons. The prisons held Jeremy Glass.

            The former US Senator was rather enjoying his new housing, cracking jokes at the least appropriate times, and spreading the propaganda of the Faction, albeit with his own brand of sarcasm. Half the Faction believed he was insane, and half found him irritating, but no amount of complaints or threats could shut him up.

            His cell was made in the converted offices that held portions of the UHF server and Carlos’ cubicle. He had all the amenities of an office worker, including the pleasures of spinning chair. He was like a child in a playground, toying with everything the way it wasn’t intended to be toyed with and breaking anything he couldn’t play with.

            Brian’s mind was one of those things he couldn’t play with. Brian was one of those few volunteers who was truly devoted to the cause. He didn’t just want the United Sates changed; he wanted the Faction in control. This was an opinion Jeremy wasn’t willing to let sit. For three days he had pushed and pushed in an attempt to break the man, and on the tenth day he succeeded. Brian went into the field, and never came back. Jeremy would feel the sting of guilt, but only until he found a new individual to toy with.