Durumov sipped his vodka slowly, savoring every drop. Two enemy Spartans dead, and the morale of the remaining spartans shattered. Perfect. The magistrate had read the files on the renegades over and over, exploring every facet of their being. Strengths, weaknesses, hobbies, he knew it all. Especially on Adam. He had looked in on Adam every day to see how he was doing. He always did well in his studies and in training. There was something that he needed to tell him, but never could. He never found words for it. "How could I have told the boy that his parents died before he ever knew them, and that I..." he stopped thinking out loud. He didn't want anyone else to know, and the room might be bugged. He drained the last of his booze, then set his foamy glass down on his oaken table. He glanced at the clock, and was astounded by what it said. "11:36? I'd better get to bed. Another big day of leading radicals and killing renegades awaits me." His slowly rose from his desk, and walked to the elevator. He pressed the button marked "12," and he zipped to his private suite. It was quite luxurious, Persian rugs lay on the floor, leading people one way or the other. In the middle of the hall was a fern on a mahogany end table, with listening devices inside it. He took a right, down the hall towards his bedroom. Once inside, he took of his coat and tie, and that was a far as he got. He felt a little prod in the back of his head, and a cold voice saying, "Boo."
Capt. Seydersen leaned back in his chair. He was head of security at Liberty Base on New Reach, and the job was good. Nothing to do but watch, listen, and relax. No more heavy ground pounding for this marine. He was nearly asleep when a light came on his com unit. He leaned forwards on his metal desk, and tapped the button. "Yeah, I'm listening."
A mousey voice came from the other end. "Uh, sir? We've picked up four life signs on level twelve. All four human. And our metal detectors have picked up pistols, a sniper rifle, a rocket launcher, and three assault rifles, sir. None of them are in the magistrate's hands. Sir, three of the life forms are spartans, and one has his pistol aimed straight for the magistrate's noggin!"
"Sound the alarm! We've got a situation!" The captain hit another com button. "Security teams, head to the magistrate's suite. He's being held hostage! Expect heavy resistance."
A red warning light flashed inside of the bedroom. Adam expected this. "Steve," he said, "get the spanker and guard the elevator. Emily, you take the window with your sniper rifle. I've got this trash covered." The other spartans did as they were bid. Shots rang out from Emily's sniper rifle, and four Spartans lay dead. Adam caressed the trigger lightly, and pressed the barrel of the pistol harder against Durumov's head. "Please, do...don't kill me. I can give you anything you want. Anything at all. You name it. Just let me live. Please, let's do business."
Adam's reply was cold and direct. "Death is my business, and business is good." He was about to pull the trigger, when Durumov spoke again, this time sounding more urgent. "You wouldn't kill your god-father, would you?" Adam straightened. This news was a shock. He had never thought about having relations before. No, he thought, it's a trick. "You're no relation of mine."
"Oh, yes, yes I am! I was a friend of your parents. They said that if anything happened to them, they wanted me to take care of you. Please believe me." There was a moment of silence, then Adam spoke, in a low, menacing growl. "You tried to take care of me, all right. You tried to take care of my friends too, with that sniper." A rocket blast outside told Adam that Steven was taking care of the security squads. The only way up was through the elevator, so they would have plenty of time to get rid of Durumov. "This is for Daniel and Chesley, who you condemned to die. This is your reward." Adam finally pulled the trigger, and Durumov's face exploded, blood and brains staining the Persian rug and polar bear fleece blanket. "Thus die all traitors," he whispered. He picked up his assault rifle, and put his pistol in its holster. "Ok, team, let's leave. We have to get to that computer." There were two blinks of acknowledgement, and Steve ran back into the room. "I got the line right here," he said as he punched the glass out of the window and shot a drill grapple into the frame. "Let's go!" Adam yelled.
In their frenzy to get to the suite, no one noticed the three
Spartans slip slowly and silently down the wall. No one noticed when
they slid the window to Durumov's office, either. And no one noticed
the missing files from Durumov's computer until it was too late.
Five days later.
Everyone who checked their inbox five days later found large files. Many opened them, but some trashed them. Those who opened them found out the truth about Durumov and the other colonies that rebelled, and that three large battleships were headed towards small colonies. There was a surge of emotion, as the marines realized that they had been tricked. There was another message that came at 5:02 p.m. A message entitled, "Join us." Many opened it. This is what it read.
From: Adam 387
To: All USSSR personnel
Fellow soldiers, I call upon you to join us. We are the Spartans who resisted you. Now you know the truth, we ask you to side with us, members of the UNSC, and help us destroy the USSSR here on New Reach. It will be hard, and it will be tough, but we can do it. We will strike the leaders at Fort Dartmouth, Fort Strom, and Fort Duroth. We will prevail. All those who are interested,be on the parade ground in twenty minutes.
Everyone rose from their seats. Those who chunked the message were told its contents, and then they begrudgingly said yes. In twenty minutes, all personnel were on the parade ground. Three Spartans stood by the flagpole. They raised the flag of the UNSC, and in unison, all troops saluted. "So," Emily whispered to Adam, "Is this the beginning of the end?"
"No, Em. This is merely the end of the beginning."
To be continued in "New Reach Campaigns"