STUD HEROES IV: THE FALLEN


Prologue

???, Ireland 0600 hours

Council Member Torres quietly walked down the hallway leading to the Council Chamber. An emergency meeting had been called by Koch two days before, though Torres didn’t see the point in calling it an emergency meeting—Deep Six was in dire straits a lot these days.

The loss of Sampson and the failure to find an adequate replacement coupled with STUD’s theft and manufacture of the XG-42 vaccine had sent morale plummeting amongst even the Phantoms. Deep Six’s armies were having trouble adjusting from conventional to covert operations as the world stabilized, and had already caused a couple of incidents that had nearly brought their existence to the surface. Even SLUT, whom the Council had counted on to tie up STUD, had been hunted to extinction by that damned STUD agent, Lian.

Torres snorted. If anything, this meeting was going to be just like the last one---a debate amongst the Councilors on different solutions, which would end up doing nothing.

“If it were up to me,” Torres thought, “I’d launch another barrage of missiles---see if we’ll win a second round of world reconstruction.” He knew the Council would not accept that, of course---only Sampson had supported this option, and he was dead.

Two guards stood at either side of the double doors that led into the Council Chamber. As Torres approached, they opened the doors for him. Without breaking stride, Torres walked in. Seeing that everyone had arrived before him, he silently took his seat in the semi-circle.

Koch rose up from his seat in the middle of the semi-circle. “Gentleman,” he spoke, his English tinted with a German accent, “I have called you here today because I have found a course of action to take; a course that shall satisfy everyone.”

Silence. Du Noir was the first to speak. “What kind of solution?”

“A covert solution,” Koch affirmed, “Assassination.”

Gela leaned forward eagerly. “Always a good option. It worked well in Kosovo when I worked there.”

Torres leaned back in his chair. “Knowing you, Koch, I trust there is an--‘twist’ to this seemingly simple course of action?”

Koch lifted his hand. The doors opened, and General Kessler walked into the Chamber, accompanied by three figures. As they got closer to where he sat, Du Noir wrinkled his nose in disgust as the three figures behind Kessler became visible.

One was woman who looked perfectly normal, if not for the fact that her eyes were crimson red---Du Noir felt like he was looking into the eyes of Satan. The second was midget of a man who was also extremely skinny, looking like a toddler with a man’s head.

But the third person---the third person was the real prize. He was covered from head to toe in what looked like third degree burns---he looked like a piece of clothed charcoal that had learned to walk like a human being.

“Do not let their appearances falter your view of them, fellow Councilors,” Koch said, correctly anticipating their reactions, “These three are part of the Super Soldier program we had started from the day of our existence.”

Torres eyed Koch warily. “I thought we cut the funds to that project three years ago---to direct our efforts to the undead strains we knew better.”

“Forgive me. But a certain change of events several months ago allowed me to revive the project. And as you can see, it has been completed ” Koch proclaimed. He pointed to the red-eyed, the midget, and the burnt one. ‘Redeye, Net, and Sears, respectively.”

“There are more?” Gela asked.

“Indeed there are,” Koch said, “In fact, three others are the middle of attacking STUD’s top secret headquarters right now. And that’s only the start.”

Murmurs of approval came from the other three members of the Council. Koch smiled warmly. “I trust that you all approve of this course of action?’

“Well, let us wait and see the results of the attack on the STUD headquarters,” Du Noir cautioned.

“If the results are good, then we shall agree to your plan,” Gela told Koch.

Koch’s smile got even warmer. “Then why not show you a result right now?”

Sears was the first to move, producing the M79 grenade launcher from underneath the coat he wore. He stuck the barrel in the direction of Gela, allowing her to shout before he pulled the trigger. The explosive blew Gela and the place where she sat to pieces.

The other Councilors knew instantly what was happening, and tried to flee. Redeye drew a handgun, and in the same movement, let off a shot. Du Noir fell, a neat hole drilled into the back of his head, his body falling down the steps of the elevated semicircular podium.

Torres drew his sidearm, a SIG P229. If he was to die here, he would go down fighting. He drew a bead on Koch and pulled the trigger. The hardened clay that Net had stuffed into the barrel the night before did its work as the pistol exploded in Torres’s face, putting an end to him.

Net stepped over to Torres’s prone figure. He spoke aloud, his philosopher’s voice resonating throughout the room. “Always check your tools before use; you never know if they’ve been tampered with.”

Kessler looked up at Koch. “It is done. You have your Super Assassins and complete control of Deep Six. Have you lived up to your part of the bargain.”

“As we speak, the remaining assassin, the one named Gate, is dispatching of General Kai and Colonel Cage. You now have complete control the military wing of Deep Six.”

“Good.” Kessler lit a cigarette. “Is our plan to use these—assassins, is it the same?”

“Nothing has changed, General,” Koch said, “I know soldiers like you find these Super Soldiers distasteful. Do not worry. They are to be used to cripple STUD’s administrative side. Your military wing shall have its chance.”

“I shall trust your words….President Koch.”

Ah yet another change of command in D6. lol

I came.

Awesome update. This is going to sort of parallel the beginning of my next work.

Awesome :o

Awesome.

Yeah, kenny, you know that this goes without saying, but awesome and all that - I should just have a bot set up that says 'yay, awesome', each time you update your stories :-P.

Chapter 1: Boom


In his office window in the ZIA Headquarters of Indiana, Zen surveyed the area. The ZIA HQ was once a regular high school campus named after former President Lyndon B. Johnson. With the proper fortifications and technological installments, it had become quite the splendid place for their kind of work.

Zen was looking out the window because he had just heard of the attack on the Life Zone. No---it was less of an attack, more of an assassination attempt. From what he had been told, there were only three attackers (and one traitor/Shroud, Zen was still trying to find an effective way to root them out), and they had put out of action more than a few of STUD’s best fighters.

So Deep Six was resorting to subterfuge now. It made sense---given the state of dissent against their puppet regimes and their dwindling numbers in contrast to STUD’s growing numbers, conventional warfare was no smart option for them. While the grunts had lessened in number, they still had a good number of Phantoms for dirty work.

But these attackers---they didn’t fit the description of the normal Phantom. Their method of attack was too open---they usually did the job silently with close quarter weapons, not with full on attacks with stolen helicopters. The attackers also made no attempt to disguise themselves—they were dressed for war.

Zen knew something that had been boiling under the surface had just exploded. The question they had to answer now was what that explosion was, and how to deal with it. He moved from his place at the window and started towards the door. He would need to confer with the Director of the European branch and seek information.

The act saved his life.

The explosion outside shattered the windows inwards. Had Zen been standing where he had been a few seconds before, he would have been cut to pieces. Instead, he was merely knocked off his feet.

“How,” Zen muttered as he lifted himself up, “did I see that coming?”

Yells and gunfire from outside told him that the explosion wasn’t the end of it. He quickly got up and made his way to the glass gun case, which had also been shattered by the explosion. Rifting through the glass shards, he quickly found the AKM rifle, seven magazines, and four grenades.

He paused momentarily. The last time he had used these was in the early days of the Great Infestation. Back then, he had wanted to help out in field operations, eager to get back at the bastards of Deep Six. As he knew that he was too valuable an asset for Krow to allow that, he had disguised himself as an agent named Horse and fought many battles as a field agent. He had continued to be under that guise until the Battle of Bloody Road, where in the subsequent meeting with Krow and Ark they saw through his façade and forced him to take up the identity of Zen, Head Director of the Zombie Intelligence Agency.

He half-smiled. Krow and Ark weren’t here to scold him now. He slammed the magazine home and pulled back the bolt.

He met his second in command Nile, wielding an MP7, coming through the door. “What’s the situation?” he asked, brushing the glass fragments from his black suit.

“One of our ‘informants’ came into the base with a suitcase, supposedly full of intelligence,” Nile yelled over the alarms going off, “He detonated it in the hallway of Sector D, blew the area apart. Airborne Deep Six agents are dropping in from helicopters all over the place and shooting anyone they see. Estimated casualties so far is estimated to be 40% of the personnel!”

“Well, most of us were field agents, once!” Zen thundered, lifting his rifle, “Let’s take the fight back to them!”

They ran down the hallway towards the front entrance of the building. A Deep Six soldier rounded the corner ahead of them. Zen lifted his AKM and dropped him in one chop.

They stopped at the corner. Zen peered around and then quickly drew back. Seven D6 coming up fast. He drew a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, waited one second, and tossed it around the corner. An explosion and screams of death told Zen he had hit his targets.

He stepped around the corner carefully. No more Sixers in the hallway. They were clear, for now.

“Looks like most of the action is still outside,” Nile breathed as he followed Zen towards the front door.

“Thank God for that, Nile,” Zen said, peeking out the front window, “Chaos out there. No frontline out there. Everyone on both sides are everywhere.”

A group of Sixers set up a machine gun nest in front of the building. Their backs were to Zen and Nile.

“They’re nothing special,” Zen scoffed, “Putting their backs to an unsecured building. Shame, shame. Looks like they counted on their numbers and bombs, as usual.”

“Yes,” Nile agreed. They both stood up and opened up their weapons on the machine gun crew. The black clad figures jumped up, danced, and slept.

Zen and Nile leaped over the window sill and took up the positions that the Sixers had once occupied. Zen picked up the AK magazines from the fallen soldiers as Nile loaded the RPK machine gun.

Zen set his iron sights on the nearest black clad soldier. “How do you think it looks right now?”

Nile let off a long stream of bullets. “Looks pretty good. They’re attacking the buildings because they ran out of people out in the open. But they’re having much luck—our men are snuggled in them nice and tight.”

“As procedure goes,” Zen agreed, shooting down a few stray Sixers, “Those Sixers really need to learn to follow up on their element of surprise.”

“And look, they’re massed up when going down those narrow hallways this school has,” Nile pointed, “Easy pickings for our guys hiding in the classrooms.”

“Yeah.” Zen scanned the skies, “Damn, looks like they’ve reached into their pockets for this one. They have two Hind-D choppers up there strafing buildings. Time to call for back up.”

Nile went on firing at any Deep Six soldiers firing on their position as Zen disappeared back into the building to get a radio. Around him, the battle raged. As Zen and Nile had pointed out, the Deep Six soldiers were no match for the ZIA on their home ground, minimally armed as they were. The Hind-D helicopters continued to pose a problem, however. As its missiles obliterated a building hiding a number of ZIA agents, Nile began to wonder how long Zen would take.

He was answered the by the buzz of several Hueys flying over his head and towards the Hind-Ds. A barrage of precise machine gun fire, and the enemy choppers were no more.

Zen came out of the building as Nile watched the Hueys make short work of the Sixers on the ground. “Support comes faster these days,” he remarked.

“Yeah,” Nile said. He looked at bodies that littered the compound. “You know, all though we did win, we probably lost more than 50% of our guys.”

Zen sighed heavily. “Always gives us the motivation to pay it back double. After the Hueys are done, watch over the collecting of the dead and wounded. I’m going to take a few people back into our building and figure out things from there.”

“Yes, sir,” Nile nodded with respect as Zen turned and went back into the building. Behind him lay what would become the second battle of the newest phase of the Great Reconstruction War.

YAY! New chapter!

Yes! Finally an Update! And an action packed one at that, that was awesome, Ken.

Argh, want more story development.

Zenified!

Chapter 2: Resonance


The mood within the room was unsurprisingly somber.

The room was the Command Center of the Life Zone. After so many secret meetings in Mackie’s office, Ark had gotten used to doing business there. It couldn’t be helped; they could hardly use it, with the cleaners still replacing the carpet that had been tainted with Mackie and Kayako’s blood.

The casualties only started with them. Two Ghosts KIA: Mr. White and Fetishist. The former’s corpse had been recently scavenged from the bottom of the valley. Then there was one Archangel KIA: Kimble.

Ark knew that if they could, his men would mourn for the loss of three brave companions. Unfortunately, the three mysterious assassins that had attacked them on the Life Zone’s helipad had done their work well: every single STUD at the attack site had been wounded, two seriously, although not fatally. However, all were still in the Zone’s medical area, some not to be out for another week.

In the mean time, Ark had devoted all his sources for intelligence on this attack. All ZIA agents not wounded in the HQ assault were working around the clock, draining every source, interrogating every informant, and torturing every subsequently captured Deep Six agent.

“General Ark.” An aide stepped into the room, “We have someone you may want to meet.”

“Who?”

The aide held up a dossier file. “Seven hours ago, a GHOST Strike Team raided a Deep Six facility located deep within the Everglades. Casualties were high, but they managed to grab a man by the name of Jonas Bulosan---a high-ranking subordinate of Deep Six’s ruling heads.

Ark stood up. “We have him here, in our interrogation room?”

“Yes, though he hasn’t talked at all,” the aide answered, “We’ve tried a lot---dousing him continuously with ice-cold water, repeated beatings, even broke one of his knees. Nothing.”

Ark snorted. “We can’t afford to be soft these days, ESPECIALLY after this. Bring me to him.”


Ten minutes later, standing next to three guards, Ark viewed before him what looked like a man, only he was swollen all over, his skin red and purple. It reminded Ark of a fat, discolored, rotting piece of fruit. Pus ran in streams out of his wounds. Ark glanced at the photo in the dossier—it showed a handsome man, perfect teeth, charming blue eyes, platinum blonde hair.

“Looks like him,” Ark remarked emotionlessly.

“Shall we leave you, sir?” one of the guards asked.

“Yeah,” Ark said. He drew a knife out its sheath, absentmindedly turning it around in his hand, “Don’t come in till I come out.”

“Understood.” The guards quickly left the room.

Ark’s face hardened at the man before him. He put the knife back in its sheath, and walked across the room towards the man, stopping before. He suddenly smashed in fist viciously into the man’s face, reopening any closed wounds and causing the man to groan in pain.

“That was Step One,” Ark said. He reached under his coat---and produced a blow torch. “Let’s see how many steps it takes…”

Cool. I do hope to see the end of this fic soon. I want to know how it all ends still.

Yeah. I figure I'll update this every weekend, since I wanna see the end just as much as everyone else.

If anyone else is still around, feedback is still very much appreciated =D