ALL NOVEL Chapter 42: Crescendo of a Fantastic Cold War
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===[Chapter 42: Crescendo of a Fantastic Cold War]===
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“This should be it,” Sparrow stopped in front of another ladder. The yellow paint on the ladder's iron rungs had since begun to crack and fade under decades of grime which obfuscated the metallic surface. Eli looked down at his hands, shuddering to think that the grime would soon stain his hands. He couldn't get to a sink fast enough. The ladder was bolted onto the concrete wall, leading upwards towards a manhole cover on the ceiling, a service shaft of sorts. Sparrow didn't skip a beat, and was the first to climb the rings. When he got towards the top, he cautiously pushed open the manhole cover, letting traces of sunlight trickle into the darkness of the tunnel below. When it was Eli’s turn, he cautiously climbed up the rungs and peeked his head out above the street. Fresh air filled his lungs, a relief. Though even the air around the two felt tainted. The familiar scent of gunpowder and something burning off in the distance returned...
Standing on the surface, their surroundings were different. Much different, in comparison to the slums of the , and he felt boxed in. Massive concrete blocks, buildings, growing upwards. Flanking them on almost all sides. The towers of the Renewal District stood like concrete giants. On their faces were nothing but hundreds of vacant windows, bleak and abandoned.
A shiver ran down Eli’s spine as he looked up at their dizzying heights. Their grey surfaces were uniform, each tower were like walls closing in, “Renewal,” Sparrow stated the word bluntly, as if it were some great indescribable evil that he had to rid his tongue of. He gestured towards one of the towers.
“Each one of these eyesores are a monument to a cultural worship of greed. They’re the headquarters of some of the largest corporations and oligarchic titans in the River Republic, and the ones that aren’t are luxury homes for those who own them. Avonian companies base their headquarters here, use the Riverlander people as fuel for their mines and factories, and they send the value of their work back to Avonia to be used by those with the money and willingness to buy. It’s the single largest parasite on this side of the border, and it’s all perfectly legal. You know why?” Sparrow asked leaning in closer to Eli.
“Because the Junta’s in bed with the Avonians?” Eli stated the obvious.
“Bingo. The Avonians put the Junta in power, the Junta ensures that the corporations have ample control over their own land, resources, and people. It’s prostitution, but on a national scale. And Marshal Navarro, the great revolutionary leader he claims to be, is the centerpiece of it all,” Sparrow spat, “With Navarro dead or at least in hiding, those greedy generals and businessmen will cannibalize each other for the next spot as grand marshal.”
“You seem confident,” Eli offered a line of resistance against Sparrow’s bantering, but the man only brushed it off.
“I don’t seem it. I am it. Those types are all the same. Kill the kingpin and the rest of them will scramble for the crown like flies to shit. The whole Junta functions with the knowledge that Navarro provides stability, and in return, they carry out his rule. When stability goes out the window the entire Junta implodes, that’s exactly the way Navarro designed it,” Sparrow explained, “The River Republic is an artificial construct. Unlike the Raritans, the Ostralanders, or even the Avonian Empire, the Riverlands – at least as we know it – is just a corporate playground. There is no culture or history under the Junta. In that sense, you could say the Junta is an illegitimate dictatorship, propped up solely because of the Avonian military and the profits generated from its ekron mines and plantations.”
“Right…” Eli said to himself, looking around still at the monumental towers of concrete which towered over them. He saw large signs hanging off the face of the towers, and could even spot a flag or two fluttering in the wind – assuming the green and red flags to be symbols of the River Republic, "Did Bell tell you that or did you figure that out on your own?"
"Oh fuck you, that's the last time I ever tell you anything..."
Eli let a smug smile tug at his lips before it vanished. The duo stood alongside a massive street which ran through the center of the Renewal District. Old-school cars were left abandoned on either side of the road, haphazardly as their owners fled the city in a rush. Some of the cars already looked damaged, their metal hulls filled with bullet holes or damaged by a dent that could’ve only been caused by impact with a larger vehicle. Perhaps one of the armored vehicles Eli saw the Avonians employ during the battle in Raritan. Following Sparrow as they kept within the shadows of the concrete giants, palm trees lined the road with neatly swept concrete sidewalks providing an easy trek. The entrances to some of the massive towers lined the wide sidewalk, hosting luxurious glass storefronts that offered a peek into what the well-to-do brought around here.
As Eli peered inside of a few, he saw colorful dresses and clothes in one window where the lights still remained on – highlighting the colorful interior while the store was left abandoned. There were posters hanging all over, with one even being of a small blue dragon, collared, being held in the arms of an smiling elf. It was an advertisement for a “Pet Spa” of some sort. All hosted within a magical retail store. The pet dragon and its elven master seemed rather familiar to Eli’s wandering eyes, like seeing a dog and its owner. Yet… so strange from what he knew. So far away.
“Pet dragons… that’s a new one.”
“One of my ex’s had a pet dragon… small lap dragon, pink scales, cute as a button. But gods, it was evil. Tried to bite me every chance it got. I hated that miserable little piece of scrap,” Sparrow sighed, "Vicious too. The smaller they are, the meaner they get, I swear..."
"I see," was all Eli could think to say in response.
They proceeded forwards, passing block by block of the Renewal District’s sprawling mega-complex and office towers, until finally they approached by a clearing. A public park, by the looks of things. Palm trees and bushes were placed decoratively within the high iron fencing. Yet from the few glimpses they could steal of it, there was activity inside. Eli could hear engines rumbling from within the park, behind the iron girders. He also heard shouting. They kept their backs to the nearest wall as they cautiously approached the park.
Behind the shrubs and plant life, missiles were aimed at the sky. Tall, iron, spears. They were plastered with the livery of their respective organization, and seated upon a steel arm which held them up and guided them towards the correct target. The arm itself carried atop the bed of a tracked armored vehicle. Sparrow peeked his head around the corner to try and assess the situation ahead of them without being detected, and when he returned to Eli, his face was grim, “Six soldiers are guarding the area from what I can see, and there’re definitely more,” Sparrow grabbed the pistol from within his coat.
“So, what do we do? March right in?”
“Can’t take that risk. There’s only two of us,” Sparrow dismissed the idea, “Six is too many, even for those idiots they've got in the militia. We do this the quiet way.”
“You can do things the quiet way?” Eli raised his eyebrow in disbelief.
Sparrow gave him a sly smirk, “Oh mate, I’m a scrappin’ onion…”
And now both eyebrows were raised, “You're a what?”
“Onions… they have layers… I have layers, like there’s parts of me you haven’t..." Sparrow observed the rather incredulous look Eli was giving him, and he knitted his eyebrows in a flash of frustration, much to Eli’s amusement, "Just quit being a dickhead and follow me!”
Eli snorted, but offered nothing else in response. He crouched down scurrying over towards the fence guarding the perimeter of the park, and Eli followed. Their forms hidden by the row of bushes and vegetation growing against the metal fence. Quietly, like mice scampering across farmhouse floorboards, they were quick, but silent.
When their backs were finally pressed up against the metal fencing, Sparrow reached up and grasped onto the flat surface of the metal fence, pulling himself up. For a brief moment, Eli saw again the mysterious gloved hand that Sosa had told him about. With Sparrow’s arms trying to grasp over the fence, the sleeve of his trenchcoat rolled up enough to expose most of his arm. Beyond the hem of the glove was a rather messy patchwork of bandages that stretched up to about his elbow.
Was Sparrow hurt? Ill perhaps? If he was, he certainly didn't show it for he could maneuver his arm without pain or difficulty at all. If anything, Sparrow’s arm seemed to be quite strong, and he was able to pull his own body weight up and over the fence with ease.
Curiously, between the gaps of the bandages, Eli spotted... metal. Sunlight reflected off of a metallic surface underneath the bandages, and wherever skin was supposed to be, he was met with that same grayish metal. It clicked in Eli’s mind that Sparrow was missing an arm! But, why the secrecy? Sparrow didn't seem like the type of person to be embarrassed about being cybernetically enchanced, in fact, Sparrow would probably boast about it.
Again, the oddities with this man kept building. But now was neither the time nor place to try and get those answers. He'd have to wait...
Sparrow checked every direction cautiously while atop his vantage point. Ensuring that not a soul was looking at them. When he was satisfied that they had not been detected, he reached a hand down to Eli - the normal arm, “Up and over. Stay hidden behind the trees.”
Eli grabbed onto Sparrow’s strong hand, ensuring that his boots didn’t slip against the thin metal rods of the fence. But carefully, he was up and over. Sparrow slipped down next to Eli. As he was crouched down underneath the cover of vegetation, Sparrow turned to him, holding a finger up to his lips. Silence. Eli nodded in confirmation. Together the two crawled their way in the slight gap between the thick hedges and the fence. The missiles towered over them, pointed towards the skies like daggers aimed at the stars.
What faint sunlight managed to break its way through the dense haziness of the late-afternoon sky was blocked by the metallic hulls of the missiles and the girders supporting them. Thick shadows offered protection to Sparrow and Eli but it was only a slight relief. Eli could hear boots smacking against the cobblestone pathway off to his left. The familiar jingle of metallic equipment as the soldier walked past. The soldier was none the wiser as to the intruders just behind the admittedly thick hedgerow. Eli dared himself to, and looked down towards the roots, able to see the lower leg of the soldier. And his gun, an ekron powered device, also hung low enough for Eli to see. Like the rattle of a snake, it served as a warning for how just how close to danger they were.
He grabbed his rifle, hoping that it would comfort him at least somewhat. He wasn’t totally defenseless. Besides, he still had Sparrow with him.
Sparrow scanned the wall of hedgerows for something, looking up and down, scrutinizing every inch. His eyes landed on a small gap in the hedgerows that could easily be parted and passed through without making too much of a ruckus. He quickly waved Eli over and crouched just behind it.
“So, what’s the plan?” Eli whispered to him in as faint of a voice as he could muster.
Sparrow reached into his leather jacket and produced several glowing metal gadgets. Wires crisscrossed the surface, leading into what looked like a pocket computer. Each about half the size of a smartphone, “Handheld explosive devices. Homemade,” Sparrow smiled, “I’ve got the detonator. You waltz in there, quiet like a mouse, get up to the missiles, just plop ‘em on, Bob’s your mother’s brother, you get somewhere safe.”
“Uh,” Eli looked out to the hedgerow again, contemplating the choice, “Wait… you just walk around with bombs inside of your pocket?”
“Well, they aren’t armed… weren’t armed. I usually don’t have them armed when they’re in my pocket.”
“Usually?”
“Can you plant the bomb or not?”
“Yeah, I can... Just buy me some space.”
Sparrow handed him the explosives and slightly parted the brambles peeking through, checking both ways, “Run to cover. Keep low. I’ll do my thing. When you are ready, shout and run as fast as you can. You got it?” he whispered to Eli.
Eli oddly enough felt less nervous about the job than he probably should’ve been. Somewhere in the few weeks he’d been on this planet, it felt as if danger was something he’d always contemplate in hindsight. It was a far cry from when he first laid eyes on the behemoths that decimated the phantoms when they had first arrived. Even from when they made the first decision to escape the Nexus into the unknown darkness of the Kiote Jungle to rescue their friends. To fighting sentries, several times… it felt as if Eli had grown used to defying danger. Defying fear itself. Its effects had worn. No longer was it as constricting as it used to be. No longer did fear define who Eli was, or who he was meant to be.
“Let’s get evil,” Eli said with confidence he really shouldn’t have.
Sparrow let a sly grin stretch across his face. He moved aside from the gap in the hedgerows, paving a path for Eli to follow. As Eli kept the explosives safe within his firm – and cautious – grasp. He swallowed hard, as he debated the path he’d take. Yet he didn’t have long to decide, another Militia patrol would close in, locking Eli out of a chance. It was now… or a significant time later that may or may not arrive. Eli sighed. There was no better time than right now.
Careful not to make a sound, he took his first steps into the park… the first thing the struck him was not the missiles nor the face of a patrolling militiaman – as he’d feared – but instead, he was floored by the beauty of the park. Thick hedgerows concealed gardens full of colorful flowers. Pinks, blues, yellows, and reds. Water fountains were still running, surprisingly enough, spraying mist into the air which tickled Eli’s sunbaked skin. Statues of several figures stood like giants around the park. Their granite surfaces had been smoothed until they resemble glass more than the cobblestone which Eli scampered on.
Almost all of the figures were of elves, distinguishable from their pointed ears and pupilless eyes. The largest of the statues, rising from a rectangular pool whose low waters resembled mirrors, was dressed in military clothing. A peaked cap, slacks, he had a bright smile as he pointed upwards towards the skyscrapers in the Renewal district. Beside him, a militia-elf, wearing a polished stone helmet and carrying his rifle in his arms as if it were a baby. Next to the soldier, a little elf-girl, wearing a flowery dress, sculpted to look as if it were fluttering in the breeze. She carried a schoolbook in her arms, like the soldier carried his gun. They were all smiles, and all pointing proudly towards the concrete giants of the Renewal District. It reminded Eli too much of the statues they’d found in Korea, specifically the North. While Eli wasn’t around to do much fighting during the Coalition counter-attack, he was observant of what information he could get his hands on. The statues here resembled the statues in the Northern Dictatorship to a uncanny extent. It was as if he were standing there, in the tropical jungle instead of in the frozen mountains.
He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. He needed to focus. He checked around, seeing no militia nearby. The missiles were parked in a large open square near the center of the park. Cobblestone stretched around it in a perfect circle, while hedgerows grew along the border. There the trucks were parked, taking advantage of the open air space that the park offered for the missiles to be launched. And perfect for a intruder to slip in while the defenders were distracted. Speaking of which… where was Sparrow?
Eli lurked closer towards the armored trucks pulling out a handheld explosive in one hand. He sent a silent prayer to whomever that the explosives had not blown up while he was holding them. Knowing his luck – they really should have. But why jinx himself now when he was so close. Drawing nearer, he took in the sheer size of them all.
The missiles towered over him, their sheer size absolutely crushing. He was hardly a fraction their height, and Eli was fairly tall. To see that a missile of this size could maneuver so easily through the skies, lock onto an advanced fighter, and bring it crashing down to the ground, was insane. Even during his times spent as a soldier he hadn’t been up close to anything of this scale. Sure, the army had anti-air emplacements, but they were so advanced and computerized that they had been small and tucked away. The missiles were primitive, they reeked of an old 1950s Cold War that – for the billionth time – was distinctly familiar to Eli’s brain hardwired to Earth’s history. Even if it was a century ago, the Cold War on earth lingered in almost everything. The extent of which was recognizable here, on Narva, god-knows how many billions of miles away it was from the planet he named home.
Eli stifled a gasp, again checking around to ensure that he was not being observed. By some miracle, he wasn’t. Maybe that was Sparrow’s doing? He crouched low, cautiously approaching, as he held the explosives out to the solid steel girders holding the missiles in position. Magnetized, the explosive devices stuck themselves onto the steel without need for Eli to search for a better place. One by one, each of the bombs went on.
And then, commotion.
His attention was drawn to a squad of militia, six total, rushing through the park. Their boots loudly clicked against the cobblestone surface of the park’s pathways. Their guns were drawn… and they looked pissed. Judging by the path they were going to take, they were on a direct collision course with Eli.
“Shit!” Eli internally panicked, looking for a place to hide. His mind had no time to spare for thoughts about why they were so angry. Only one thing guided his thought, and that was to get out. He couldn’t outrun them without getting spotted, nor would a dive into the bushes fare him much better. His only option, to get underneath the amalgamation of solid steel. He crawled his way over to the truck, hoping that the massive tires had enough clearance for a human to crawl underneath its shadowy undercarriage. He eyeballed it, and it was impossible to tell.
The increasing ferocity of the militia’s stampede, however, gave him the kick in the ass that he needed to forget comfort and to get down low. Eli dropped to all fours, and like an animal seeking refuge, he squeezed his way underneath the truck’s carriage.
His fingers grabbed hold on greasy mechanical parts, most of which appeared to move in some form – terrifyingly enough. The engine was idle, gently humming just above his head. Black tar – similar to the tar which spewed from the engine of the destroyed Sentry – slowly dripped from the engine block. Eli pushed himself underneath, feeling the hot oil oozing onto his prisoner’s uniform. His back dragged along the stone path, soiling his uniform with dirt.
As soon as the last bit of his shoe had been tucked underneath the chassis, the militia had arrived. They came storming into the circular plaza, sprinting full speed towards the missiles. Eli held his breath. Had he been spotted? Had he been too careless? What would he do if they found him here, provided they hadn’t already? Shoot them? He felt around for his rifle, the alloy surface of which met his fingertips as it was slung around his body. He fidgeted for the gun, cautious to not shoot himself in the process, and he held onto it for dear life.
His heart thumped in his chest hearing the jackboots rush towards him. There were too many for him to fight at once. If they had truly spotted him, it would’ve been over. He saw one of their legs appear in the gap underneath the chassis. A few of them shouted something out, yet their words were foreign to his ears. He was definitely out of Sparrow’s translation range. The lack of information panicked him. He could feel his heart pounding inside of his throat, racing like a rat trapped in a cage. Every breath he took was hardly enough, and yet he was forced to stifle his breathing to remain quiet. His heart and lungs burned. His finger squeezed his rifle…
They passed him. Each of the soldiers had rushed by like a train passing. They had noticed neither Eli, nor the bombs he placed on the missile carrier. None the wiser.
But it wasn’t until the last soldier had breezed past none the wiser, that Eli allowed himself to breathe. His first full breath was an exhale, and then a gasp for air. Like a drowning man’s first instinct. And yet the burning feel of the soldier’s presence hadn’t fully dissipated.
He placed another explosive onto the undercarriage before he slowly clambered his way out from underneath the vehicle. Again, he was on his feet, placing the rest of the small explosives to scatter across the metal surface of the missiles until there were no more.
There was commotion brewing from where the soldiers had gone, risking a look, fearful that they had found Sparrow. And to his dismay… they had.
At least six soldiers had their guns trained on a man in a surrendering posture. Sparrow’s arms were outstretched above his head, and his back was turned facing the soldiers – and therefore him. He was saying something, but Eli could not decipher what. Though it sounded like… pleading? He sounded oddly unaware of what was going on, and the man looked more like a child who had wandered into a place he was not supposed to be rather than a revolutionary caught in the act of sabotage. Was he not expecting to get caught doing whatever he was in the middle of?
And then, following the voice of a soldier with his gun trained on him, Sparrow turned around. His eyes looked up, over the green helmets of the militia, and to Eli. Their eyes met. In that moment, Eli knew that this was the distraction.
Without a moment to spare, he threw up his gun and opened fire, not intending to kill – but rather to buy Sparrow enough time to escape. Sure enough, it worked. The militia scattered into cover, returning fire that forced Eli to get down. Yet he kept it up. Sparrow too pulled out the pistol hidden inside of his jacket, nailing a soldier in the throat, turning to run like hell.
Eli made a break for the far side of the park. The stone statues that dominated the scenery staring him down like giants ready to turn him into a red stain on the cobblestone paths. He booked it down the winding park paths, past gardens and fountains, unsure where exactly he was going – but hoping to find some end to the twisted maze of the park’s interior. An explosion rocked the air behind him, and he could feel the wave of pressure surge through his body giving him a push that nearly brought him to his feet. When he turned to look behind him, the missiles had gone up in flames. Smoke rose to the air while fires burned around the truck and what was once the steel weapons.
Yet, around him, he could see more soldiers screaming out. Bullets went flying through the hedges, narrowly grazing Eli as he sprinted past. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was approaching him. And fast.
One more glance behind his shoulder revealed something dark and shadowy sprinting across the gardens and meadows. Darting towards him faster than Eli could run away. His heart sunk when he saw it in full. Red mechanical eyes. Metal teeth. Dark body.
A Howler.
The synth barreled down the pathways, and the moment Eli locked onto its sinister red glowing eyes, he knew that he could not run from it. But he tried. There was still a considerable distance between the two, and if Eli could use the winding pathways of the park to his advantage, then maybe he could lose it?
And so he did. Sprinting down the twisting corridors of the stone pathway, the hedgerows growing taller as he ran from the statuesque gardens and picture perfect statues that towered over him. The hedgerows grew until they were akin to brick walls, immovable and impenetrable.
He could hear the familiar rumble of an engine followed by the squealing of tires. Eli stopped running, listening for the source.
Only to find out that it was coming from ahead of him...
>>>[Verifying...]
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==The Revolutionary Department Of Intelligence==
==[WEAPONS OF THE COLD WAR]==
Name: AD-111 Talon A (Domestic Model); AD-111Ge Talon E (Export Variant)
Type: Ekron-Powered Surface-to-Air Missile System
Country of Origin: AD-111 (The Greater Avonian Empire), AD-111Ge (The River Republic)
Information: The AD-111 (And subsequently, it’s licensed export variant the AD-111Ge produced by the River Republic) is a critical Surface to Air Missile system fueled by Ekron computational power. The Talon makes up the backbone of Avonian air defense capabilities and has been the defender of the skies above Avonia and the Continental Pact for nearly a decade.
Developed after the Jodi Straits Crisis proved the weakness of the Avonian airforce in the face of cutting edge Ostralander and Oceanian Jet air superiority and strike aircraft dominating the skies in Belford’s favor.
Avonia gathered its top scientists to develop the Talon. A missile system that was easy to maneuver, cheap to produce, and could lock onto air targets flying beyond 25,000 feet above the ground. The missile itself, powered by a ekron pulse engine, it could fly at speeds of nearly Mach 2, granting it the ability to intercept and destroy even the fastest of Commonwealth aircraft. Combined with Ekron Computer Guidance systems and highly-mobile fins, the missile is able to out-maneuver the notoriously quick jets of the Ostralands and Oceania.
The missiles have been nothing short of a game changer. Though Avonia’s jet aircraft program remains in its infancy, it has been able to defend its skies and the skies above the Pact thanks to the Talon. During the Oran War of 1224 and the Kiote War of 1227 the Talon proved instrumental in shooting down droves of Commonwealth Air-Superiority fighters and Close Air Support Aircraft, dragging the war into a brutal slog for Commonwealth Forces, and ultimately preventing the fall of the River Republic to the Kiote Union...
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