Shadows in Service of Light: Chapter 2 – Two-Faced Allies

Chapter 2 – Two-Faced Allies

A few weeks have passed. They've been mostly victories, with a few defeats here and there. Bezalel blames it on the Middle Easterners being too gun-ho and emboldened by their recent victories, the power given to them by our military, and pride in their virtue. In contrast, the Middle Easterners blame their defeats on the devil and sometimes us, but that excuse gets less and less relevant the more of our soldiers from the Chimaera States die off. We can’t bring too many of our soldiers here, given they need to be trusted not to say anything about the operation, and they need to be snuck in under the radar, forcing our planes to take long routes to avoid detection. Additionally, the Zeitloses Imperium, led by Adler, one of the founders of the radically traditional ideology, Von Menschen und Vorfahren, is on the move against the Slav Federation.

The supreme leader of Adler has told the world that it has declared war against the Slav Federation because of its hostile actions against other countries, despite also being guilty of the same thing and already being in a cold conflict with them over the years. With the way things are going, we’ll be coming across the forces of the Imperium, which is another problem we’ll have to deal with. Bringing this up to our Middle Eastern allies, they say they aren’t concerned at all.

“They were our allies for a short time, helping us rid the land of Israelis to better secure our home for our people from those who would corrupt it with usury and conspiracy. I know your country doesn’t have a good relationship with them or the practitioners of the Vorfahren ideology. Will there be a problem when we come across them?” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“They shouldn’t be able to identify us just by looking at us. As long as no one says anything that suggests otherwise, we should be fine, hiding in plain sight,” I say.

“The people of the States should learn to get along with them. They may be pagans, but at least their hatred of the usurious pigs is a virtuous one. In fact, I suggest that I send some of my people to your country to help you with that after the Slavs are gone from our home.”

“Speaking of that last part, would you like to do the honors in starting this next battle?”

“Ah! I thought you’d never ask.”

Following the Middle Eastern leader, his advisors, and his guards, we make our way to a balcony of the palace that overlooks the town we’re in. He gives a speech in his language to his hundreds of followers below as enemy helicopters, tanks, and soldiers approach us from a distance. After his speech, Garnet hands him a tablet; he presses it, and a barrage of missiles hits the enemy, obliterating them and leaving nothing but fire and destruction where the enemy once stood. The crowd is even more excited than it was before as it charges out from the town and across the border into the Slav Federation’s territory.

“Will you be taking part in this battle? There will be heavier resistance than usual,” Garnet says.

“Of course I will. A true leader leads from the front. You can stay here and ‘coordinate’ our forces, like you usually do,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come, men. Let us slaughter the Slavs here before we do the same in their home country.”

Following the Middle Eastern leader and his allies, we enter an armored luxury car that has the stink of someone partying in it. Even Bezalel, with his gas mask, seems bothered by it. The luxury car drives with the military trucks, Humvees, and tanks toward the border between countries as helicopters from both sides collide and artillery bombs the battlefield. The soldiers and vehicles on the battlefield are blown up and destroyed by falling helicopters from the sky. We’re barely able to drive into the enemy town before our car is blown up by a rocket launcher from one of the buildings.

“You failed…again,” I hear a distorted voice say.

No…no, God, give me strength. Let me succeed in doing the task you’ve set for me.

“Yet, you continue to allow one evil to exist so that another may be defeated. You know that both should die, but you partner with one anyway for the so-called sake of the greater good, when what you and your allies want is an easier solution to your problems.”

That’ll be over soon. It’s only temporary.

“So is your life, and yet you act like you have time.”

“We don’t have time to sleep, Draco! Get up!”

Bezalel is yelling and slapping me as we take cover in a small building with our temporary Middle Eastern allies. I grab the rifle he gives me and immediately join the fight. We’re surrounded by Slavs hitting us from all directions, and yet I don’t feel scared, nor do I care to stay in cover for long. Maybe it’s because of what I heard while I was blacked out, but I’m aiming and taking down targets faster than I usually do, impressing even those who are supposed to be my enemies. The rest of our forces arrive in town and push the Slavs surrounding us.

“Let’s move!” I say.

Using the cover provided by our allies, we press further into the town. Our tanks are blowing up the Slav artillery and the buildings they used as cover. Meanwhile, we join the infantry to clear the streets and the destroyed buildings still filled with enemies. In one such building, I rush through it, popping heads one after the other, switching from my rifle to my pistol, and then cutting the throats of three soldiers with my knife after I run out of ammo.

As I’m reloading my guns, the Middle Eastern leader says, “An Angel of Vengeance must be possessing you. I’ve never seen you or anyone from your country fight this well.”

“You could say that,” I say.

“The Slavs are making a last stand in the town’s palace tower over there in the center. We have it surrounded and are ready to finish this fight,” Bezalel says.

“It is a monument to their sins. I don’t care what happens to it, despite admitting it’s a beautiful structure. Let us bring it down on top of them,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

Bezalel and I reluctantly agree, head out to join the rest of our forces, and relay the leader’s order. Taking rocket launchers from their troops and aiming at the building with their tanks, the Middle Eastern soldiers and their leaders fire rockets at the Slav-built tower, bringing it down. The tower falls on the buildings beside it and kicks up an explosion of dirt and debris into the air. The Middle Easterners cheer and fire their guns into the air in victory, and start singing one of their prayers in their language.

“We have remaining Slav politicians and guards fleeing the town, but be cautious of Adler troops moving in,” Garnet says on the radio.

“We’ll head back to base. Our fight here is done,” I say.

“But the war is not yet finished. Come, my friends. There is still much justice that needs to be done upon the godless Slavs,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“The deal was to push the Slavs out of your home country. They’re out, and now you have a town in their territory. As far as we’re concerned, we fulfilled our deal, and we can go our separate ways.”

“Let me speak to your president or one of your military leaders. Perhaps something can be arranged to grant us further support.”

“I speak for President Campione. This is what he ordered me to do.”

“How about this. If you don’t help us defeat the fleeing Slavs and hear me out about obtaining more support from your country, I may tell the Adler troops of our secret arrangement.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Bezalel says.

“Would I? If another country knew of your involvement, it would draw yours into the Second Great War that’s happening on this side of the world. You better make sure I don’t say anything.”

Bezalel looks at me, and I say, “Okay, fine. We’ll help you and then hear you out.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Our so-called allies, Bezalel and I, take an armored truck out to meet the retreating Slavs, and since there’s only one group of people on foot, we don’t need backup. In fact, by the time we reach the Slavs, they’re already being killed by the Adler troops.

“Adler’s troops have already taken care of the retreating soldiers. Let’s go back,” I say.

“Hold on. I think I recognize a few friends from my time working with Adler. Let’s go say hi and thank them for their assistance,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

Not wanting to argue anymore, Bezalel and I join the Middle Easterners and walk with them to talk to the Adler troops, who are wearing their usual black and red military outfits, steel helmets and boots, and wielding heavy assault rifles and pistols. The Adler troops are backed up by other men in armored troop trucks and a few tanks in their rear. When the two groups meet, they talk as if they do recognize one another, as they hug and catch each other up on their personal lives and shared past, bringing up their time together driving the Israelis out of the Middle East and thanking them for their help in dealing with the Slavs.

“Who are those two with you? I don’t recognize them, and they don’t look like they’re from around here,” an Adler officer says. “I heard you had help from outside your country. Are they mercenaries or good Samaritans?”

The Middle Eastern leader smiles and says, “I have already told you. They’re troops from the Chimaera States.”

“Hey, we had a deal!” Bezalel says.

“Emphasis on had. As you said, our deal is done, so let us strike a new one, or else my friend here will report back what he knows to his leaders.”

“You-fuck this, I’m tired of all this pretending. Can we get this over with?”

Confused, the Middle Easterners look at the Adler troops and us before they are shot and killed by them.

Bezalel says, “I was hoping that you’d show up early so that-”

“So what? That you can betray us as you did with them? We know of your country’s hostilities toward us and our ideology. Do not pretend that our alliance is anything more than temporary friendship,” the Adler officer says.

“We won’t pretend. You won’t be betrayed or caught by surprise like these Middle Easterners. Once Slavengrad is taken, we’ll go our separate ways, and an official alliance will be made between my president and your leader,” I say.

“Really? Is a true alliance your goal with this little partnership we have?”

“We wouldn’t be putting our lives on the line if we were lying.”

“You were lying with these goat fuckers.”

“We weren’t. As he said, our deal was done, so we had no reason to pretend still to be friends with them, but with you, our friendship is just beginning.”

The Adler officer looks at me as if searching for signs of lying, and, seeing none, smiles and holds out his hand to be shaken.

I shake the officer’s hand. “May I know your name?”

“Draco Jung.”

“Eren Rommel, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Well, should we take care of our past friends?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Bezalel says.

“Yes.” I radio over to Garnet on a radio frequency only she and our troops from the Chimaera States can tune into. “Initiate protocol 2C614.”

“Amen,” Garnet says.

Going back to base with the Adler troops, we find them being blown up by the Chimaera State tanks and helicopters and being shot by those they once fought beside. The Adler tanks and troops back up our own, further adding to the chaos and confusion that the Middle Easterners are facing. Even as we enter the palace that Garnet is in, the Middle Easterners don’t immediately open fire on us until they see us killing their fellow soldiers. Continuing further into the palace, we encounter resistance from the sons and wives of the Middle Eastern leaders, who try to shoot us. Bezalel and I use non-lethal knockout rounds on them; however, the Adler soldiers kill them outright.

“What are you doing?!” I say.

“They raise their guns at us. They die,” Eren says.

“They’re just kids,” Bezalel says.

“You people from the States need to grow a spine. Indoctrinated children who are raised to kill are also raised to not be taken in alive by the enemy.”

Bezalel and I scoff, but we both know he’s right, given our time with the Middle Easterners, but still. At least the Adler soldiers don’t shoot the young people we knocked out. We find Garnet killing five Middle Easterners in a room where she was commanding both forces, with other bodies on the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to kill those pedophiles and sexists for a while. Are these our new friends?” Garnet asks.

“Yes,” I say.

The Adler forces introduce themselves to Garnet, and she merges our comms. With every Middle Eastern soldier and leader killed, we pack up our things, take the young Middle Easterners with us to be taken back to the States, and head out with the Adler soldiers to their base, where we make our introductions and then rest for the coming battles ahead with our new enemy to work with.