Saving Arulco, Chapter 1-1

Saving Arulco
Chapter 1-1: Deployment

         A civilian helicopter swept across the Arulcan border, a mere dozen feet from grinding its blades against the ground. Besides the pilot, only one occupant, clad head-to-toe in top-of-the-line Load Bearing Equipment (LBE), was aboard the heli.

         Dawn. On time for what felt like the first time in the passenger's life, the helicopter touched down. Not even bothering to wait, the occupant practically ripped his seatbelt off and climbed out. He smacked his half-glove against the fiberglass window pane and gave a thumbs-up to the pilot, signaling he was off the heli. The pilot returned the thumbs-up and let the passenger scurry at a half-crouch to the nearest building before accelerating, taking back off and returning the way he came.

         The town of Omerta was a derelict, and for good reason: reports on internet media recently about the Arulcan Royal Army mowing down civilians and using tanks to blow up buildings were well founded; the commando both smelled and saw firsthand the aftermath of the Queen's response to the local rebel group. Rotting blood and what was left of whatever still-decomposing corpses remained out in the open kept the air stagnant, thick, muggy, even in the early morning.

         The commando decided to walk around the outskirts of the town rather than actively search the buildings; he'd already sensed a group of 'angry' individuals that he didn't want any part of. ...Yet, anyway. Besides, he had a letter to deliver.

         Nearly an hour of crawling through tall grass, the commando had slowly made his way towards what felt like were several life signs underground. At least a dozen individuals with varying degrees of hunger, injuries, and anxiety. Given the contrast verses the earlier group who were actively hunting for...something, or more likely someone, the commando thought to himself. The only two groups he was expecting in this town were any rebels still alive and the Queen's troops, who were more than like the group pursuing the rebels. It made sense, but wasn't the only options, just the ones the commando knew existed.

         The building above the psychic impressions the commando were picking up on was partially destroyed. Moving slowly, he began to circle the building, looking for a safe point of entry...or at least one that looked the least likely to be trapped. The most obvious way was in through the front door, which somehow was still intact, but this way was completely obvious towards the town. Less obvious ways were to jump in through the blown-out windows, but even that was tricky, as it was suitably barricaded.

         After thinking for a moment, the commando looked up. The roof was low...low enough for him to climb up onto, although it would be more obvious; the Queen's troops would easily be able to spot his outline against the surrounding treeline. Seeing no other choice, the commando looked around...and didn't see anyone. Deciding it was his best chance, the commando jumped up to the roof and silently landed. Sure enough, the backside of the roof had a hole big enough to drop down from. From what it looked like, there was even a ladder down there for people to get out.

         A bit of shuffling later and the commando dropped down to the floor inside. As quietly as he could, he crept through the house, looking for a staircase...although it crept up on him; there was a set of boards that creaked when he stepped on it. Almost immediately, the commando sensed several of the bodies downstairs snapping to alert, before orienting themselves towards...a false floor! That's it! There was a false floor under an oversized box! However, instead of taking the bait and getting shot, the commando pulled out a sealed letter addressed to the rebel leader himself. Knowing it'd get spotted, the commando pushed the letter under the box and watched it for a moment travel partway down the stairs.

         The commando heard voices, and sensed the individuals below him moving about in a mix of alarm, anxiety, and building confusion. He waited.

         Eventually one of them grew curious enough to press against what looked like a doorway, and peered around it, before noticing the piece of paper. The commando waited.

         The person seemed to check out the paper, before taking it with him back inside the compound. The commando waited.

         A few minutes later, the box was moved out of the way. "Get in here, now!" the rebel hissed. The commando wordlessly followed the rebel down the stairs.

         ...and was greeted at gunpoint to a half-dozen soldiers. "You move, you die," one spat. The commando slow raised his arms over his head, hands empty and exposed.

         "One mercenary? He expects us to make do with only one mercenary?" the same one gasped in shock.

         "Chivaldori has given me the funds to hire more mercenaries as we go, and I'm certain the locals here would be willing to take up the way of the gun to help defend their homes. You want an army?" the commando pointed towards the most vocal rebel down here," you'll get an army, but I gotta know what kind of army you need."

         The commando reached for his balaclava and it peeled off, revealing a silver-furred snout. His cheekbones were adorned with purple lightning bolts, angled under his blue eyes as if to point down his vulpine snout. A pair of gold earrings were just barely visible on his left ear, but otherwise, the silver Renamon seemed quite normal for his kind, minus the clothes and extra physical bulk he had built up from years of hardcore training.

         "Chivaldori, you say?"

         "Yeah, the guy who won the election here a decade ago, remember? And then his wife killed the guy's family and forced him into exile, and then started what you guys are going through?"

         "Why should we trust you?"

         "Because I've got the funds and know-how to get you guys the troops and materials you need to take this country back."

         "You want us to trust you?"

         "No, I want your full support. If you're not willing to give it right here and now, I'll go out there and prove what I can do." Without another word, the commando disappeared, heading back up the stairs before anyone could stop him.

         A few seconds later, the leader, Miguel Cordona, walked out of his office, the letter addressed to him in hand. "So you're just going to let him go, Carlos?"

         The especially talkitive rebel turned his head when he heard his name. "Well what do you expect me to do? He had that look in his eye, like those, those freaks!"

         "Psychics aren't limited to just this nation, Carlos. We should count our blessings that we even have one on our side, much less fighting for us," the leader shook his head, handing his second-in-command the letter addressed to himself.

To: Miguel Cordona
I am certain this letter has been delivered to you in Good Faith by a particular silver fox. This man is a tactical genius, and I formally request you allow this man to assist you in any means necessary to take our country back from the hands of the tyrant, Deidranna.
Godspeed,
Enrico Chivaldori