Chapter
2 – Sowing Seeds of Destruction
It’s been a year and a few months
since Protocol M10:34 began, and it’s been going mostly to plan, as far as I
know. There have been uprisings by citizens of the United Chimaera State, and
even military, police, and SIB agents have participated in protests and been
caught helping The Sacrifice, and other groups inspired by them popping up in
other countries. I don’t know whether the president and his brother enlisted
more people into the protocol or whether they were always part of it. All I
know now comes through rumors, and the odd agent who delivers my orders tells
me a bit of what’s going on, says the rest doesn’t matter to me, and leaves.
Right now, Garnet, Bezalel, and I are in Ruthenia, the part of Eastern Europe
that was once the Slav Federation. Last year, we helped the Middle East and
Adler defeat the Slav Federation, so helping them fight back against Adler and
the Imperium is a little awkward, to say the least, which is why we’re mostly
helping those who appreciate us freeing the region from the radical Slav
ideology.
We’ve been giving them parts to
make tanks, helicopters, and boats, and stealing guns, explosives, and ammo
from them. After supplying the Ruthenians with so much, we all think it’s about
time we take back some ground from the occupying Adler forces. Before the
battle even starts, the people of Ruthenia drink and celebrate. This isn't just
tradition; it’ll also throw off the occupiers, who are on constant alert for
any signs of rebellion, especially with current events. Garnet and I aren’t
taking part in the drinking game, though Bezalel is. I can count on one hand
the times I’ve seen him with his mask fully off, and this time, he’s wearing
bandages to cover his scarred and burned face. His eyes are a different color
than I usually remember, or maybe they change color like mine, and his hair is
a charred black, kind of like mine, but with less visible grey.
So far, Bezalel has been
out-drinking every Ruthenian for every pre-battle and casual drinking challenge
presented to them. These people have a major drinking problem. It’s no wonder
why they were conquered so easily by the Slav ideology and Adler army. As
Garnet and I watch Bezalel drink and dance like an idiot with the rest of the
drunken revolutionary soldiers, I hear her laugh.
I laugh too, and say, “This is the
first time in a while, Garnet. Are you drinking too much?”
“No. I just find this all funny to
watch, and there’s a weird sense of peace to it, like we’re not waging a shadow
war on the Imperium.”
“They call it a war on terror, but
I like the sound of shadow war better. You are right, though. I’m a bit
saddened that we can’t enjoy times like these more often.”
“It’s the life of an SIB agent.
It’s what we signed up for.”
“Yeah…it is.”
“Hmm? Is something wrong?”
“No. What surprises me is that
these people are seemingly celebrating the day before they attack one of their
cities with their own people in it.”
“They think that some of their own
countrymen are traitors for not fighting back against Adler. I assume they’d
think twice if they were hurting and killing their fellow countrymen if those
people had nothing to do with the current occupation.”
Garnet is speaking as if she didn’t
do exactly that not too long ago, and I guess she shouldn’t be able to remember
or think twice about it.
“God bless them if they can live
with their choices. It’s a hard thing to do, especially in our line of work.”
“They don’t think they’ll live for
long. It’s the Ruthenian way to throw troops into a human meatgrinder for the
sake of their causes. If they do end up thinking more about what they’ve done
and get bothered by it, then there’s drinking it away, as they do with most
other things.”
“Ha! You’re right.”
After the Ruthenians and Bezalel
have their party, they sleep off their hangovers for a couple of days before we
get moving. From what I hear, the Adler troops aren’t expecting any attack,
figuring any rumors they heard were just drunken Ruthenian ramblings. They
expect the attack to come from foreigners and not natives of this land that
they’ve conquered and renamed, so once this coming attack is over, the
Ruthenians will have to cut out the drinking and take this more seriously.
Before the battle, a leader in the revolution carries a bottle of vodka with
him to the front of the gathered troops.
He throws it to the ground,
breaking it, and says, “No more will we suffer the ever-oppressive eye of
Adler. No longer will we let our people get taken away to re-education and
death camps. We will no longer bear the poisonous influence of their propaganda
and our own countrymen who have betrayed us by siding with them. Today, we
light the fires of freedom and earnestly begin our glorious revolution, and
take back our motherland!”
“Oorah!” the rest of the
revolutionaries say as they raise their hands in the air and throw down their
alcohol.
They exit the building we’re in and
flood the streets of the city they mean to take: Ruthengrad, once called
Slavengrad. Secretly placed explosives go off, blowing up Adler checkpoints,
artillery and anti-air guns, tank positions, and government buildings. Garnet
stays behind to coordinate all allied forces from the basement, while Bezalel
and I join the fight on the ground. Helicopters take off from the rooftops, and
tanks leave their garages and turn on their own. The Ruthenians charge,
scattering groups of Adler soldiers to their own and their enemies’ detriment,
as soldiers from both sides die in droves.
Bezalel and I aren’t as suicidal as
the Ruthenians, and fight in our own way with some of the other revolutionary
soldiers, who choose to take cover in buildings and move from one to another as
we advance to each holdout of Adler soldiers and officials. As the battle rages
on, I watch as Ruthenians focus much of their fire on their own police force,
just as much as the Adler soldiers, given their tendency to hate those they
view as traitors more than foreigners. They also set fire to businesses with
Adler flags on them and places that support them and recruit for their army and
occupying government. Not even police stations are spared, and any citizens the
Ruthenians come across are forced to take up a gun and join the fight.
“Emergency forces from Adler have
been called in. Expect reinforcements to arrive in five minutes,” Garnet says
over our radio.
“Let’s not keep them waiting then!”
a Ruthenian leader says.
All Ruthenian troops and armor move
to where Garnet says the reinforcements are coming from. Even the civilians and
the injured are forced to keep moving without a moment's rest. When the
Ruthenians meet the reinforcements, they kill them more easily than they did
the city’s defenders, as if the battle has made them all proper soldiers. Garnet
informs us of another three waves of reinforcements, each one of which is defeated
by the Ruthenians, who get progressively better at killing and more zealous and
excited with each victory over the Adler military. Their cries of excitement
get even louder when Garnet says that the remaining Adler forces are retreating,
meaning the battle is won. The Ruthenians cry out even louder, and I swear I
can hear other Ruthenians miles away cheering.
Back in the city, Garnet rejoins Bezalel
and me, and we watch the Ruthenians fire their guns in the air, break apart the
Adler statues, burn their propaganda, cheer, and talk about the greatness of
their victory and the many more to come. All remaining Adler soldiers, officials,
citizens, and their known supporters are brought out by the Ruthenian soldiers
and civilians, and beaten, shot, mocked, spit on, and hanged in the streets.
Looking at Garnet and Bezalel, I don’t see the slightest change in their facial
expression as they watch the Ruthenians do the same things that Adler has done
to them. The only thing we say to the leaders of the Ruthenians is that we are
glad for their victory and look forward to continuing to support them. They
thank us and invite us to take part in their sadistic celebration, but we refuse
as politely as possible and go back to the underground hideout to rest.
Bezalel walks ahead of me in the hideout
and slams his hands on the table as he says, “Fuck!”
I’m shocked and unable to say
anything at Bezalel’s sudden display of emotion. He hasn’t shown this much
emotion since the time we brought a human trafficking ring in the City of
Angels, and I’m wondering if the mental training is wearing off.
Garnet walks up to Bezalel, puts a
hand on his shoulder, and says, “It’s going to be okay, Bezalel. It’s not like
they’re punishing people who don’t deserve it.”
“I know, it’s just…I don’t know
what it is,” he says.
“Is it that they’re killing people
in front of children?” I ask.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. I prefer
their drinking parties rather than their murder ones,” Bezalel says.
“Me too, buddy. Let’s get some rest.
Didn’t you want to beat me at Durak?”
“Oh, that’s right. Let’s do that. I
need to get my mind off what I just saw.”
While we’re playing cards and just
starting to joke around, Garnet screams and cries.
“Animals! They’re all scum! They
killed the children too!” she says.
Bezalel and I run over to comfort
Garnet as she continues to scream and cry. What’s going on? The mental training
is supposed to prevent things like this. Are the real Bezalel and Garnet
starting to break through? After calming her down, Garnet tries to fall asleep.
I mainly recommend it because falling asleep should reset her mental restraints
and help her forget what happened today. Bezalel looks at the time and gets
some rest as well. While I’m reading my Bible, what Garnet said hits me.
“Did she say they killed children
too?” I accidentally say out loud.
Now that I’m remembering it, the
Ruthenians were killing children and teenagers as well, just as the Adler
troops and anti-revolutionary officers did. It’s a terrifying thought that the
horror of what happened is only now sinking in. I hope and pray that this
mental training doesn’t have any long-lasting effects. I’m also hoping that
we’re doing the right thing by helping the Ruthenians. Some of them might be
nice, good-natured people, but the same can be said about those from Adler and
the countries in the Imperium. Both have their evil characters and are
essentially two sides of the same coin. I may not feel it in my head, but in my
heart and soul, I’m getting tired of working with horrible people for the
greater good.
