War Gods - Triumvirate
What? Are you saying you are at war with GOD?
Yes…but I will win.
Part 1 – Ready the Props
“You damn punks, do you even know what you are getting into? The second the other agencies hear about this, you can tell your organization bye. They won’t just exclude you! They will hunt you down for breaking the truce. Your own agents will friggin’ murder you, scum.”
The trader’s words could be barely heard due to bloodied lips and a significant lack of teeth in his gaping mouth. His face was covered in horrid purple marks and brown dots of cigarette burns. It looked quite strange from a distance, but up-close, it was plain ugly and repulsing. The big white t-shirt enwrapped around his humongous belly was now covered in patches of snot and blood. Basically, he looked like shit.
Nyx felt a pressing urge to help him up and start the healing process straight away but was stopped dead in her tracks by Chezu’s cold stare. His gray icy eyes bore into the green of her pupils and warned her not to interfere. Nyx sighed and slowly stepped back. What else could she do? These guys were out of this world.
Rex, a freshly lit cigarette sticking through the hole in his gas mask, casually kneeled down besides the old trader. The spikes in his tomahawk haircut aimed viciously at the man’s fat face as if to stab him.
“Listen here Edgar, no one wants to carry this on except me and even I realize that we are running out of time. I told you already that the matters at hand are very urgent and we have to borrow your buggy.” He paused for a second to inhale and carried on after letting out a few narrow streams of smoke. “Now, it’s understandable that you might object to this but you can complain to the agencies all you want. No one will admit that we belong to them. Like you said, that would be a loss of reputation no agency can afford.” His voice sounded almost sympathetic, soothing the man he just tortured. “Be a good boy and hand over the keys or I’m gonna have to burn the other half of your face and trust me, I’d rather smoke these. Wild Sevens were always my favourite brand. So, what do you say?”
The fierce battle between pride and survival instinct was clearly visible on the poor trader’s face. Heavy sweat covered his forehead and spilt onto his eyebrows. Edgar’s eyes were darting nervously from one person to another, as if asking them for help or advice. Rex was too busy enjoying the cigarette, Chezu just stared back with his usual detached acceptance and Nyx tried to look away, embarrassed.
It shouldn’t be like this! We are supposed to be the good guys, preventing the construction of the M4X Mech. So why did we end up like this? Torturing this pitiful man and stealing his possessions?
She wanted to intervene but knew that it was useless. Chezu would keep her away at a safe distance and Rex…well no one could guess what Rex would do. Being with him was like playing Russian roulette, one minute everything is fine and dandy, the other, your brains splat across the wall behind you.
“They…they are in the safe, I can open with my signature.“ The muffled reply came with an air of total capitulation. It almost looked like Rex smiled but you could never confirm it behind that gas mask he always wore. He helped Edgar get on his feet and even offered his shoulder for support.
“Now that’s a good man. Wish we could start off like this, without the need for all this violence. I’m a pretty cool guy if you catch me at the right time. Heck, I’ll even stop by to say hi after we finish with the operation and bring you some real whiskey. Promise! I know an old dealer from the city. But…” he stopped and looked at the beaten man, resembling a snake hypnotizing a terrified frog, “if this is some sort of a trap, I will peel your skin off, inch by inch, while your screams provide the soundtrack to my amusement.”
“No, God no, there is no trap,” Edgar assured hastily, “there is only an identification device that makes the siren go off if the wrong input is made. Nothing else, no traps.”
They followed him inside the station and into the small cabinet room behind the main office. The place oozed a pleasant wave coolness generated by the temperature unit in one of the corners. Nyx spotted a Harrier drone hovering right underneath it. She felt alarmed for a brief moment, but relaxed as soon as she realized that its tracking sensor displayed a neutral grey.
Moving briskly, Edgar retrieved a small box and put his hand on the front scanner, applying a unique pattern engraved under the surface of his palm, and activating the recognition procedure. After a short beep, the box silently slid open and lay in his hands like a used crab shell. Inside, were some holographs of a woman with two children playing in the garden, a gold ring and a set of shiny keys with the Lotus insignia. Edgar slowly took the silver keys and handed them over to Rex.
“Lotus model XZ496, bought it over eight years ago and took care of it ever since. It’s in perfect condition and all parts have been recently replaced. Take it.”
“Good job,” Rex patted the man on the back. “They say a man who takes good care of his car treats his wife well.”
Edgar glanced at the holograph for a brief moment, then turning away, he muttered, “I wish that was true. You got what you wanted. Now please leave.”
It looked like he lost all interest in the current affair, his mind deep in thoughts of his own. When Nyx moved forward and drew out her nanite gun to perform the healing procedure, he just shook his head and motioned for her to leave with the others. After letting them out of the building he sat back in his office and carried on looking at the image of his loved ones, frozen in time and happy forever.
To be continued