Sun Jun 27, 2004 3:40 am by Esquilax
UTOPIAS: THE GREAT WAR
CHAPTER 1
Two years ago…
It was 1942 and a cold, snowy day in Tawakalnagrad. Captain Boris Wizinski stood in Red Square staring up at the lowering visage of the Great Leader of the People's Democratic Republic of North Staffordshire, or the PDRNS. The Great Leader Tawakalna or the benevolent "Uncle Taw" as he was affectionately known, had come to power in a bloodless coup less than four years previously. As Wizinski stared up at the bronze statue in the likeness of the Great Leader which depicted him reclined on a chaise lounge while being fed grapes by several burkha-clad women, he reflected that things weren't really as bad as he'd expected. Sure, most of the populace of Tawakalnagrad worked in sweatshops producing mortar shells and "Gucci" wallets for a daily pittance, but meat pies and vodka, the country’s staples, were plentiful, and were doled out under the watchful eyes of the Great Leader's personal guard, the TDC, or "Tawakalnian Defence Corps".
As he stared up at the statue and pondered, a voice suddenly interrupted his perturbations. “Hail Comrade!” cried a voice behind him. Wizinski turned, and saw a well-dressed gentleman approach him.
“You are Captain Wizinski, are you not Comrade?” asked the gentleman, whom Wizinski realised was an officer in the Republican Guard, the tactical branch of the Great Leader’s army.
“I am,” replied Wizinski “whom do I have the honour of addressing?”
“I am Colonel Indynski, Chief Commissar for Morale, and First Minister for State Security.” stated the man proudly “Can I see your papers please, Comrade?”
Wizinski handed his papers to the Commissar, and tried to control his nervousness. He was only partially successful, as his left arm began trembling violently as a detachment of the Tawakalnian Defence Corps rounded the corner and headed towards him.
“Hmm, these seem to be in order. I am pleased that you were able to meet me here, especially considering our… ahem, circumstances.” Indynski said, returning the papers and then motioning to the bodies around the square; the remnants of the state’s last purge.
“It was no problem Comrade,” stated Wizinski “I am always ready to serve the Motherland”.
“As are we all, Captain, as are we all.” said the Commissar.
“Yes sir!” replied Wizinski saluting.
“Come, we must speak further. I have an assignment for you.” Wizinski nodded, and slowly followed the Commissar from the square.
***
Wizinski followed Indynski along “Festival Way”, and up the broad steps of the minimalist Republican Palace. Personally, he could not understand exactly WHY the Great Leader referred to it as “minimalist”, as it dwarfed the structures around it and, in fact, was the largest construction project that had been undertaken since “Uncle Taw” had come into power.
Indynski saluted to the two soldiers guarding the entrance, and led Wizinski through the spacious foyer, their boots producing an echoing staccato on the highly polished marble floor. They went up a flight of stairs, and passed through a maze of corridors, each one featuring expensive and sought-after artworks, along with idealised portraits of the Great Leader. Finally, the Commissar led him through a doorway and into a large well-lit office.
“At ease, Captain.” said Indynski, as he took his place in a large leather chair behind an enormous hardwood desk. Wizinski placed his hands behind his back, and waited until Indynski had poured himself a measure of vodka.
“Now, as you are aware, there has been a considerable amount of friction between Mustantopia and the PDRNS of late. This is because the Mustantopians live in a decadent Capitalist society, in which the rich shamelessly exploit the poor, and the poor lie dying in the streets. This is of course, when they are not mining or growing crops to feed the enormous appetites of the Mustantopian gentry. The Mustantopians do not understand the needs of the workers. They do not understand that society should be for the benefit of ALL, not only the rich. It is because we have embraced these truths that they fear us, and our way of life. In fact, they have been secretly preparing for war for the past two years. It is now up to us; we must strike first and depose Emperor Mustang, and provide salvation for the poor down-trodden masses in Mustantopia.” As he had spoken, Indynski had stared out the window, but now he turned back to Wizinski “That is where you come in”.
“Sir?” asked Wizinski, perplexed.
“Captain Boris Wizinski, born 1923. Educated at the “Tawakalnian School for Gifted Youngsters”, and graduate of the “People’s Military College of Tawakalnagrad”, specialising in Morale, Espionage, and Republican Theory. Correct?” asked the Commissar.
“Yes sir,” replied Wizinski “but I do not understand; I have only been a member of the People’s Army for two years.”
“Exactly, and yet in that time you have distinguished yourself on numerous occasions, and have risen to the rank of “Captain”, even surpassing the officers who were inducted in the Army five years before you. You believe in the Motherland, do you Captain?” asked Indynski, lighting an “Uncle Taw’s Choice” brand cigar.
“Of course I do, sir. The decadence of the surrounding Capitalist nations is an affront to everything I believe in!” cried Wizinski.
“Good. Then you will be pleased to know that we have a vital assignment for you.”
“Yes sir!” replied Wizinski, saluting.
“You will travel to a safe house that we maintain in the city of Tawsca. From there, you will receive equipment and further instructions.”
“Sir, if I may ask, what will be my assignment?” asked Wizinski.
“You will be involved in a vital undercover operation, that will be instrumental in the destruction of Capitalism. That is all I can tell you. A car is waiting for you, you leave immediately.”
Wizinski saluted, and was escorted to the front entrance by two members of the TDC. One of them opened the door of the black “Tawagon Series IV”, and Wizinski entered. The car drove off with a mighty roar as he departed for the border city of Tawsca.
***
One month ago…
Life was good reflected Mustang, Emperor of Mustantopia. He had arisen late that morning, and stood staring out of the window of his palace bedroom, which overlooked the Imperial Gardens. His subjects were content, and the economy was booming; at least, that’s what his advisors told him. Of late however, he had become a little sceptical as to the veracity of their reports, especially since the last assassination attempt in which an unshaven, poorly dressed man had thrust himself through his personal guard, and had attempted to strike him with a garden stake. Still, you can’t please everyone when you’re in Government was his first thought . There was a sudden knock on his bedroom door. “Enter!” he called, motioning to his personal valet RILMS, and quickly tied the sash on his embroidered robe. RILMS, who was the Emperor’s personal valet and general dog’s body, stopped adjusting the drapes, and opened the door admitting Zlo, the Emperor’s personal envoy and Head of the Intelligence service. Zlo was carrying a large sheaf of reports and, although impeccably dressed, also had a rather self-important air that had always annoyed the Emperor.
“Good morning your Imperial Majesty.” said Zlo, bowing deeply “How does this day find you?”
“Not too bad at all Zlo, before you came in that is. Now what’s so important that you need to interrupt our quiet time?” asked Mustang, taking a glass of red wine from RILMS and turning back to the window.
“We have a problem, Your Majesty.”
“And? What is it?” demanded Mustang, spinning around.
“Well Your Majesty, we have just received reports from The People’s Democratic Republic of North Staffordshire,” stuttered Zlo.
“And? Get to the bloody point!” cried Mustang, advancing on him.
“Well, it appears that Tawakalna is up to something, Your Majesty. We’ve had difficulty acquiring information since they sealed their borders, but it appears that he is raising a substantial army.” replied Zlo
“Tawakalna? That pathetic idealist? How the hell could he put together an army? According to our reports, the only thing he ever did prior to 1938 was study Marx and Engels! How many men does he have now?” asked Mustang.
“Something in excess of four hundred thousand, Your Majesty.” said Zlo, consulting his reports.
“400,000?!?” cried Mustang, hurling his wine glass to the floor, shattering it “That’s half the strength of my entire army! How long has he been recruiting, and why hasn’t he created such an army before now? He’s been in control of the PDRNS for nearly four years!”
“He has been recruiting people for about six months Sire, and we believe that he hasn’t been able to raise an army larger than 200,000 before now because he was too busy weeding out insurgents and conducting purges.” replied Zlo as he watched RILMS begin cleaning up the broken glass.
“Hmm,” murmured Mustang, calming down slightly “that number is likely to get larger every day if I know Tawakalna. Fine, bring me the Head of Imperial Weapons Development; subtlety is called for.”
“A wise decision, Your Majesty” said Zlo bowing.
“Are you still here?” asked Mustang.
CHAPTER 2
13:22pm, March 22nd, 1944.
Tawakalnagrad, capital of the PDRNS.
“Enter!” called Tawakalna, the Great Leader of the People’s Democratic Republic of North Staffordshire or, as he preferred to be known, the benevolent “Uncle Taw”. He looked up from his desk as Indynski entered.
“Ah, Indynski my friend, what do you have to report?” he asked.
“Well Uncle, I am pleased to report that agent “BORGOV” has successfully infiltrated Mustantopia, and has access to Emperor Mustang.” replied Indynski.
“Excellent! Drink?” Tawakalna offered, moving to the sideboard. Indynski declined, and the Great Leader offered him a seat.
“What are your orders, sir?” Indynski said.
“Is everything going according to plan?” asked Tawakalna as he sat.
“Yes sir, except that the Mustantopians have poured a great deal of wealth into their R&D program of late, and my spies tell me that have nearly finished work on some sort of cloaking technology.
Taw thought for a moment. “Have you been able to locate the name of the scientist heading the project?”
“Yes sir, his name is Esquilaxiov, he was the Minister for Science and Weapons Development under the previous PDRNS administration.” Replied Indynski.
“Ah yes, of course. But how did he end up working for the Mustantopians?” asked the Great Leader perplexed.
“From what we’ve been able to uncover,” responded Indynski “his family are being held hostage in poorly defended building on the outskirts of the Mustantopian capital. If we can rescue his family and bring them back to PDRNS territory, we should be able to convince him to defect.”
“Excellent.” said the Great Leader, and raised his glass in a toast to Indynski’s ingenuity.
“I have taken the liberty of informing Comrade Locutov, and he should be here shortly.” replied the Commissar.
“Very good.’ said Tawakalna.
There was a sudden knock at the door and General Locutov, Minster for War, entered the Great Leader’s office. “Ah, we were just speaking of you Comrade. Indynski has just informed me of the plan that you two have developed to counter the Mustantopians’ cloaking technology. I have given the plan my blessing.”
“I am pleased to hear that sir, because Indynski and I feel that this will be the turning point in the war.” replied Locutov.
“War? I was not aware that we were at war General. Not officially anyway.” said Tawakalna.
“We have been at war for a long time Uncle, and it is only a matter or time until the first shots are fired.” the General replied.
Taw sighed “Perhaps you are right Comrade, the Mustantopians have always been jealous of the harmony present in our society.”
“Indeed,” replied Indynski obsequiously “the very society that you designed sir.”
“Quite true.” replied Taw with a knowing glance at the Locutov “Now tell me more General.”
“As you wish, sir. Essentially, I have a handpicked team of commandos who will be ready to depart within two hours. They are being led by Corporal Finaldayski, who is one of my best. He will take command and lead the commandos in a covert assault on the facility. We expect penetration and acquisition within four days. The actual operation should only take two hours, but of course, it will take a few days for my team to infiltrate Mustantopia.”
“Very well General. There is no sense is wasting any time. Begin the operation.”
General Locutov saluted, and departed.
***
23:27pm March 26th, 1944.
Mustanglia, capital of the Mustantopian Empire.
Corporal Finaldayski gave the signal, and his crack team of commandos moved silently into position against the rear wall of the prison compound. He nodded to the soldier to his left, and with a soft whistle and a clank, the grappling hook sailed up into the night sky and dug its steel points into soft mortar along the top of the wall. The Corporal slowly counted to thirty, before he nodded to his soldiers. The soldiers climbed silently up the rope and onto the wall. Finaldayski followed and, when they were all perched on top of the wall, he signalled. With the skill of professional acrobats, the commandos crept along the narrow wall towards the poorly illuminated doorway that led to the prison cells. The commandos dropped softly from the wall to the compacted dirt of the compound, and quickly moved through the door, weapons at the ready. Two guards stood on either side of the doorway, but did not have a chance to cry out an alarm before they were silenced.
The commandoes crept through the passageways until they came to a locked door. Finaldayski slipped the lock picks from his pocket and quietly ordered his men to remain on guard. With deliberate concentration, the Corporal probed the lock and with a grudging click the door was unlocked. Motioning two of his men to stay on guard, Finaldayski led the remainder of his mean through the doorway and into the area housing the prisoners. A lone guard sat at the table, swaying slightly due to inebriation, while a nearly empty bottle of wine sat next to him. The guard belched loudly while he attempted to complete his game of solitaire, whilst also attempting to understand why the cards kept moving on him. With a sudden oath, he swept the cards from the table, but then stiffened at Finaldayski rapped him across the back of the head with the butt of his pistol.
Appropriating the keys from the fallen guard, he moved quickly to the cells and located the prisoners. Two children were sleeping soundly on feculent mattresses in a small cell barely ten feet square, while a tall dark-haired woman watched over them protectively. She looked up as Finaldayski approached, but did not speak and instead watched him intently.
“I am here on behalf of the Great Leader of the PDRNS. He has heard of your plight and wished me to liberate you and your children.” said Finaldayski quietly as he unlocked the cell.
“I cannot leave without my husband Esquilaxiov, if he’s still alive.” she responded bitterly.
“I understand Madame, and we are making arrangements to that very end as we speak. Will you accept the protection of the PDRNS?”
The woman sighed. “Anything is better than being here” she said, and woke her two children.
“We still have to slip out of here,” said Finaldayski “and we can’t afford any noise.”
“I understand.” The woman replied, and comforted her children.
Finaldayski signalled, and his men surrounded the woman and her children protectively, and moved out into the corridor. The two soldiers guarding the entrance rejoined the party, and they quickly left the prison cells and headed for the main gate. Finaldayski nodded to one of his men, who slipped into the gatehouse and worked the controls, pausing only to incapacitate the gate guard, who was snoring softly in large chair.
***
“…after that we slipped through the gate, and hid for a time in a PDRNS safe house. Then we returned here as quickly as possible.”
“Excellent work, Lieutenant!” said the Great Leader, rising from his chair “You are truly an inspiration to us all, and proof of the superiority of the PDRNS Republican Guard.”
“Thank you, sir.” replied Finaldayski with a salute “But I am only a Corporal, sir.”
“You WERE a Corporal,” said Tawakalna, smiling benevolently at the soldier “now get some rest. That’s an order. General Locutov will conduct your final debriefing after you have slept. Dismissed.”
“Thank you, Great Leader!” cried Finaldayski, and departed from the office.
“Excellent work Indynski.” said Tawakalna, swivelling his chair around to face the
Commissar “I trust that Esquilaxiov’s family are comfortable.”
“Yes sir, as per your instructions, they are being held under close guard in the North Wing of the palace.” replied Indynski.
“Very good. Have you made any progress in convincing Esquilaxiov to join us?”
“Yes sir, BORGOV should be making contact with him soon. In fact,” replied the Indynski, examining his watch “he should be making contact right about now”.
***
“Doctor Esquilaxiov, I presume.” said BORGOV, stepping from his place of concealment.
“That’s me,” responded Esquilaxiov warily to the balaclava-clad figure “and who might you be?”
“I come with a message from The Great Leader Tawakalna of the PDRNS.” said BORGOV, ignoring the question “Your family has been rescued from the prison near Mustanglia, and are now in PDRNS custody.”
“Thank God!” cried Esquilaxiov ebulliently “How can I repay you?”
“I think you know. We want you to defect to the PDRNS.”
“But how? I’m watched 24-hours a day!”
“Really? Then how do explain our conversation? Do you see any guards here now?” replied BORGOV “We have highly placed agents here in Mustantopia. Leave your escape to us. All you have to do is agree. Otherwise…” BORGOV took a silenced Luger from beneath his coat.
“Very well, I have no choice it would seem.” said Esquilaxiov wearily.
“You will be contacted.” said BORGOV, and disappeared into the shadows. Esquilaxiov sighed, and returned to his calculations.
CHAPTER 3
10:23am April 2nd, 1944.
Mustanglia.
“Where have you been?” asked Mustang “I was about to send people out looking for you! What kind of valet are you? Where the hell is my coffee?!?”
“Ah, I was nowhere, Sire. Sorry, Your Majesty.” said RILMS contritely, surreptitiously stuffing a balaclava into one pocket “I had some business to attend to.”
“Your ‘business’ is to serve me, and right now, I want you to serve me some coffee!” shouted Mustang.
“Right away, Sire.” RILMS poured the Emperor a mug of steaming coffee, and began tidying the room. There was a sudden knock and, at a nod from Mustang, RILMS opened the door to admit Zlo.
“Ah, there you are. Now what the hell is going on? Why is my cloaking device still not finished?” Mustang demanded.
“Unfortunately Your Majesty, our secret Mustanglian prison facility was raided, and the family of our top scientist Esquilaxiov, was captured by the PDRNS.”
“What?!!?” roared Mustang “How the hell could that happen?”
“As Your Majesty may recall, you wished our secret facility to remain secret, and you felt that having only a few soldiers would be enough to protect the prisoners, and that too many would attract attention. Due to the lack of guards, it was quite easy for the Reds to mount a rescue mission.” Replied Zlo. Mustang swore.
“My sentiments exactly Your Majesty, however it gets worse.”
“Worse! How could it possibly get worse?!?” cried Mustang.
“Well, I have just learnt that Esquilaxiov is missing, and is believed to have defected.”
Mustang swore, and hurled his wine glass to the floor. RILMS sighed, and knelt to clean up the broken glass. “Get him back!” the Emperor demanded.
“We can’t Sire, we have no idea where he is. However, there is some good news.” he said, forestalling Mustang’s rage “I have just spoken to our science team, and apparently Esquilaxiov did not have time to burn his notes before he defected With the aid of the lab notes, they believe that the prototype cloaking device can be ready within a matter of days.”
“Finally, some good news!” said Mustang, regaining his composure. He snapped his fingers, and RILMS brought him a new glass of wine. “We may have lost Esquilaxiov, but his work will continue.”
“Yes Your Majesty, and I have a report from Military Procurement; we have been able to acquire a large number of mechs from DUSK.”
“Excellent! I want those mechs equipped with cloaking devices as soon as possible. It is time that we showed the Reds who’s boss!” said Mustang “Soon, the PDRNS will be nothing more than a footnote in history…”
***
12:24pm April 8th, 1944.
Tawakalnagrad.
“Doctor Esquilaxiov, reporting as ordered sir.”
“Ah, Esquilaxiov. It is good to meet you at last. I trust that your accommodations were comfortable.” asked the Great Leader, reclining in his chair with a glass of vodka.
“They were most, erm, efficient Great Leader. I could have used a few extra airholes in the crate though, I kept passing out due to lack of oxygen.” replied Esquilaxiov.
“Well, we must all suffer some discomforts when serving the Motherland, mustn’t we?” Tawakalna raised his glass of vodka, and slowly took a lingering sip.
“Yes sir. When can I see my family? I understand that they are in the palace.”
“In good time, Doctor. They are quite comfortable, of course remaining that way is dependent upon you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Esquilaxiov, although he already suspected the answer.
“Only that the PDRNS requires your specialised skills Doctor. We need a countermeasure to offset the Mustantopians’ cloaking technology which, I believe, you were instrumental in developing. Provide with something to even the playing field as it were, and you will be well rewarded. Fail and… well, I don’t think I need to tell you what will happen.”
“Damn you!” shouted Esquilaxiov “You are not better than the Mustantopians!”
“Watch your step, Doctor.” said Tawakalna coldly “I keep my promises, unlike the decadent Mustantopians. When did they say that they would release your family? When you provided the initial plans for the cloaking device? How long after that did it take for you to see you lovely wife’s face?”
Esquilaxiov hung his head “I never did. I don’t even know if they are alive.”
“As a token of my good will, I will allow you to see your family, but then you must get to work. Time is running out Doctor.” said Tawakalna.
“I agree.” said Esquilaxiov.
“Very good. Dismissed.”
***
16:32pm April 11th, 1944.
Tawakalnagrad.
“Enter!” called Tawakalna, and Indynski entered followed by Esquilaxiov.
“Ah, Indynski, Doctor. Good news I trust?”
“Yes sir. Doctor Esquilaxiov has finished developing a countermeasure against the Mustantopians cloaking device.” said Indynski,
“This is excellent news! Give me the details, Comrade.” said Taw, offering the men a cigar.
Esquilaxiov declined but Indynski took a cigar and lit it. “Well sir, we have been able to modify standard “tracer” rounds which, when combined with modified flares, will enable us to locate cloaked vehicles and units. The benefit is that the cost is negligible.”
“Excellent. How exactly does it work, Doctor?” Tawakalna asked.
“Well sir, essentially whenever a cloak it activated, it continuously releases a small amount of ion particles. The flares that I have designed will seek out and bond with those particles and reveal cloaked units to us. All that must be done is to shoot the modified rounds into the air, and they will explode. The material contained inside the flares will spread out, and will cause a reaction whenever they interact with cloaking devices.” said Esquilaxiov proudly.
“Indeed sir,” said Indynski “the good Doctor tells me that any cloaked units will glow like Christmas trees when they are exposed to the flares.”
“Phenomenal work! I want mass production of those flares to begin immediately. We don’t have much time.” said Tawakalna.
“Much time, sir?” queried Esquilaxiov.
“The details don’t really concern you Doctor. Besides, you have completed your part of the bargain. Your wife and children are waiting for you outside.” replied Tawakalna.
Esquilaxiov gaped, and ran from the office. The delighted squeals of his children and the sobs of joy from his wife echoed in the hallway outside as he rejoined his family, and then slowly diminished as armed guards escorted them away from the Great Leader’s office.
“So Indynski, when will the mechs be at our doorstep?” asked Tawakalna.
“Well sir, we are not precisely sure. BORGOV has access to much classified information, but he is not involved in the military aspect of the Mustantopian campaign. He will not be of much help I’m afraid. I only have one informant in the Imperial Army, and I’ll find out what he knows.”
“Very well, have General Locutov begin planning our defences, with special emphasis upon the major routes to our cities, particularly Wolstanton. I do not think that the Mustantopians will want to waste any time in their campaign; they know that we have more men than they have, and that we are closer to developing countermeasures to their cloaking technology everyday. Little do they know that we already have.” said the Great Leader.
“I will make all of the necessary arrangements, sir” said Indynski and turned to depart.
“One more thing Comrade,” said Tawakalna “Have BORGOV complete his assignment.”
“Yes sir. I’ll send the order right away.” Indynski saluted and then departed.
CHAPTER 4
21:43pm April 15th.
Wolstanton Marsh, PDRNS.
Colonel Chips of the Mustantopian Imperial Army peered out into the gloom. The cloaked Mustantopian mech assault force had been on the move for several days, and had remained completely undetected. They were passing through the Wolstanton Marsh, an uninhabited area of the PDRNS that lay very close to the capital of Tawakalnagrad. Despite the lack of contact with enemy forces, and the fact they the operation was going off without a hitch, Chips still felt uneasy, especially tonight. He felt that something was out there, but he couldn’t identify it.
There was a sudden hiss, and several flares shot towards the starry sky above. Each flare burst with a sudden crack, and orange sparks began to fall.
“Steady men they’re just flares, they can’t hurt us.” said Chips into his radio and watched bemused as the sparks winked out just before they hit the ground. “Come on men, Tawakalnagrad is just ahead. Let’s destroy those Commie bastards!” With a loud thud the mechs began moving forward, and the walls of Tawakalnagrad came into view. Chips was just about to order his men to form up and begin firing, when he noticed a small glow off to his right. He snapped his head around, and saw that the glow was about twenty feet from the ground and was coming from one of his mechs. A cold fist seemed to clench itself around his heart.
“Get out of there Corporal! They’ve found a way to penetrate out cloaks!” he cried urgently into radio.
“Affirmative sir!” came the pilot’s voice “Setting self-destruct n-“ There a sudden concussion as a mortar shell hit the glowing mech. There was a huge flash and Chips lost communications as the mech exploded, showering the countryside with debris.
“Damn it! Disable cloaks and target the palace!” shouted Chips into his radio “For Emperor Mustang and the glory of Mustantopia!”
The other pilots shouted their approval, and the mech assault force began running towards the walls of Tawakalnagrad, their ER-PPCs firing over the city’s walls at the Great Leader’s Republican palace.
***
“Ah Zlo, what news from the assault?” asked Mustang.
“Well Sire, it appears that the Reds have developed a countermeasure to our cloaking technology. We are taking steady losses but at last report, the Republican palace was completely destroyed.” replied Zlo.
“Excellent news. Can we confirm that Tawakalna was inside?”
“Our reports indicate that he was Your Majesty.”
“Then our mech assault force was well lost then. You are dismissed, and send my dog’s body in, I need a drink.”
Zlo didn’t reply, but instead stood silently, staring at him. Mustang turned.
“I said you are dismissed, Zlo. Is there a problem?”
“Yes Your Majesty, I’m afraid that there is.” replied Zlo, drawing his pistol from its holster.
“What are you doing, Zlo? Is this some sort of joke?” asked Mustang, backing away.
“My name is not Zlo, Your Majesty. I am Captain Boris Wizinski of the PDRNS. It’s nothing personal, but my instructions are to eliminate you. It has been an honour serving you. I wish you well in the next life.” With a lazy salute, Wizinski raised his gun and fired a single shot. Mustang fell to the floor, clutching his chest.
“No!” cried a voice. Wizinski spun around as RILMS rushed through the doorway and knocked him to the floor.
“Damn it!” cried Wizinski as he dropped his gun. He threw RILMS off him, and grabbed his pistil. He was about to shoot RILMS when shouts heralded the arrival of a guard company. Wizinski cursed, and quickly ran from the room through a side door.
RILMS jumped up and was about to pursue him when he heard a groan from behind him. He spun back to the Emperor. “Don’t worry, I’ll get help Your Majesty!” he cried, and ran quickly to the phone. Within moments the room was filled with medical staff. RILMS ran up to the Doctor working frantically on Emperor Mustang.
“He IS going to be alright isn’t he?” he asked brokenly.
“We’ve stabilised him for now,” replied the doctor, standing and wiping his bloody hands on a rag “but the prognosis is not good.” RILMS hung his head, and slowly followed the doctors as they carried the Emperor of Mustantopia from the room.
***
Far below the ruins of the Republican palace, Tawakalna raised his head from the latest reports from Mustantopia. “So, BORGOV has failed.” said the Great Leader to himself “You may have survived this time Mustang, my old foe, but the war isn’t over!”
THE END.
Edited by - esquilax on 6/27/2004 5:08:14 AM
. Enjoy!
