Death Comes Swiftly

Prolouge
Sounds of distant gunfire echoed through the streets. The sound of propaganda filled the air. The sun was high overhead, and the humidity was almost unbearable. Private Petrenko paused in an abandoned café to drink from his canteen. Sweat poured from his brow. He removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his thick, greasy hair.
“The UNSC promised us peace and prosperity, but we have been forgotten! What have we received?! NOTHING! Nothing but poverty and anger! The UNSC is oppressing the people of this city, and millions more in cities all around the outer sphere! Rise up, my brothers and sisters; rise against the UNSC in the name of the brotherhood! The oppressors must die!”
“Oh for the love of God,” Petrenko thought to himself. “Don’t they ever stop?”
The same repeated message, and numerous others, blared off hidden loudspeakers. Non-stop, the message was clear: UNSC bad, sparking uprisings good.
Petrenko took out his GPS, and was disappointed to discover the screen had cracked, and the battery had long been dead. Frustrated, he tossed the useless device aside. He was alone, traveling in and out of buildings for the better half of the day, avoiding the local militias. His objective: escape. With the start of the propaganda waves on the radio, riots broke out. And when they started getting out of hand, even for the riot police, UNSC Marines were dispatched to quell the uprisings. They met heavy resistance, and very quickly fell prone to mixed guerilla attacks. Petrenko lost his whole squad in an ambush, and was lucky to have escaped practically unscathed.
Just then, voices and footsteps could be heard coming his way. Heart racing, he scooped up his rifle, jumped through a hole in the wall, and stealthily ran from the enemy. Little did he know that he left his canteen behind. A group of three militia members including a vicious German Sheppard entered the café. They wore black uniforms bearing the symbol of the brotherhood: A red triangle with a Scorpion’s tail spiraling in the center. They were just three of hundreds, if not thousands more.
“Keep an eye on the dog.” The leader barked out. “He gets away again and you’re gonna be the one who catches him.”
“Yessir.” one of the others said.
They took a moment to check their surroundings. One of them spied the canteen.
“Hmm…wonder who left this here?” One of them said, walking over to the table and picking the canteen up with his gloved hand.
“Looks like the UNSC standard issue.”
The dog then frenzied, barking viciously as it picked up Petrenko’s scent. It then made for the hole in the wall.
“He’s got something; follow him!” The leader ordered.
***
Petrenko was sure he was at a safe distance. He though he was safe once again. Short of breath, he slowed to a walk. Looking back, he saw nothing but an empty street. The wind howled, and bits of scrap paper and cardboard danced around. He turned and walked on. Then from behind, a dog barked. Quietly at first, the noise grew louder, and the dog came closer. The hair on the back of Petrenko’s neck stood on end.
He took off running, adrenaline racing, down the street, around the corner, through an alley way, scrambled over a fence, and landed on the other side. But still he heard the dog coming closer, barking and snarling viciously. He cautiously peered around the corner. All was still. As he entered the street, movement, and vicious growling to his right stopped him dead in his tracks. He slowly turned his head, and was nearly face-to-face with a monster of a German Sheppard.
“Oh shi-“
Petrenko was then knocked on the ground before he had a chance to raise his rifle, or unsheathe his knife, with the dog towering over him, sinking its fangs into his arm with its powerful jaws. He cried out in agony, knocking his rifle aside. Mustering the willpower, he slammed his fist into the dog’s ribcage, knocking the beast off its feet, and gave Petrenko the chance to escape. As he scrambled up, a sharp, crippling pain exploded in his leg. He fell face first, and was slowly dragged backward.
He fought with all his might, kicking as hard as he could. He managed to turn over on his back and saw the dog about to strike again. Awaiting the end, the doomed private closed his eyes. But he was surprised when it didn’t come. Amidst the pain, and the warm, wet liquid covering a good portion of his body, he slowly opened his eyes. Three dark figures stood above him. Petrenko’s vision went fuzzy.
“Looks like we got us a live one,” a voice spoke at last.
“Let’s bring him in.”
A dark boot hit Petrenko in the face, and all went dark.

***
Petrenko slowly regained consciousness. Bright lights blinded his eyes, and a chorus of cheers deafened him. The pain racing through him was unimaginable. He tried to move his limbs, but he felt the coarse rope bound tightly around them. His vision slowly returned, and he found himself in a large courtyard, where several Brotherhood militias stood, looking on and cheering. A TV camera was positioned not seven feet away. Two figures stood out from the others. Neither of them was wearing helmets like the others. The one farthest away from Petrenko was bald, with a well trimmed mustache-beard combination. Malice burned in his eyes.
And the only outstanding feature about the other one was that he had a loaded handgun. He looked into the camera, and spoke.
“Today, the Brotherhood of NOD has taken the first of many steps to overthrowing the oppressive government of the UNSC! Let this be an example to all who would stand in our way!”
He then pointed the gun at Petrenko, who glared in return. He pulled the trigger, and Petrenko ceased to exist.
“The tape stops here, sir,” said Lieutenant Anders, pausing the video.
“They broadcasted this on all channels not three hours ago.”
Major Johnson scratched his chin.
“God almighty…it’s already worse than I thought.”
“All channels, you said?” he inquired.
“Yes sir. All the major news channels, and whatever else they could hack into.” Anders replied.
Johnson sighed.
“I miss the days when NOD was just another local cult. They were quiet, kept to themselves. We didn’t like them, nor they us, but at least we know where we stood with them. And now? It’s getting so we can’t even trust our own neighbors.”
“I wonder,” Captain Thompson said at last, “How these uprisings occurred so quickly and aggressively; right under our noses this whole time. The seeds must have been planted months, if not years in advance. No ordinary civilian could outmatch marines, let alone entire squads, not by themselves.”
“Someone had to be helping them.” Johnson agreed. “But it’s not like we didn’t see this coming.”
He then took out an envelope from his desk.
“Lucky for us, after our first initial counter with NOD, we anticipated such an event, and came up with the response in advance. Lieutenant, I need this delivered to ONI on the double”, he said handing off the envelope.
“Yes sir!” Anders took the envelope, saluted, and left.
Johnson stood up.
“Captain, relay to your CO and tell him I’ll inform him of anything else that turns up. We’re done here; Dismissed.”
“Yes sir.”
Thompson turned to leave, but hesitated.
“Sir, if I may ask, something’s been bugging me…”
“What is it?” Johnson responded.
“That thing said about the UNSC promising things and forgetting people; is that really what happened?”
Johnson inhaled.
“Some things,” he began, “are on a need to know basis. But rest assured captain, the majority of the things said by the brotherhood are lies and slander.”
He then walked past Thompson, who followed silently.

Chapter 1

The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air. Dave’s heart was racing. Sweat profused from every pore in his body. Anger, fear, and sadness gripped him. Around him, many NOD soldiers lay dead. He walked on. Soon he came to a dim hallway. A door was present at the end. Dave went towards it. Then out of thin air, two more NOD combatants appeared before him, guns blazing. Dave walked on, undaunted. When close enough, he reached out and grabbed one of the soldiers by his face, and flung him against the opposite wall, breaking many bones throughout his body.
The other was dealt with similarly. Dave grabbed the man’s neck in one hand, and his leg in the other. He then proceeded to snap the man’s spine over his knee, and tossed the corpse aside. He walked on. Dave approached the door, yet nothing happened. As if it wasn’t there, he went right through it, like a ghost. On the other side, Dave was in a lab. A group of scientists were gathered around a containment tube. Someone lay submerged within. Quickly, silently, he neared the scientists. They didn’t even know he was there. Unsheathing his machete of a combat knife, Dave sent the blade through the skull of the nearest person.
The others tried to run. Dave threw his knife at the throat of the nearest scientist, hitting its target with deadly precision. The man choked as blood spurted forth, bathing the floor in front of him a crimson red. The others were systematically eliminated. One of them was thrown to the floor and had his skull caved in with Dave’s fists. Another was impaled on a broken object, and the other was electrocuted with damaged wires from one of the nearby machines. Dave walked over to the containment tube and placed his hand on the glass. A woman was inside, her face hidden.
Then the woman disappeared. The room started spinning, and everything went dark. A queasy sensation began in his stomach. His head seared with pain. Dave was forced to his knees, clutching his head. A multitude of voices spoke simultaneously in his mind. On the verge of insanity, Dave cried out in agony. He then woke up in his bed in the hospital wing, screaming. The voices had ceased, as had the queasiness and headache. But he was still furious. He breathed hard, sweating profusely. Then, when his anger reached the critical level, he reached over, and flung his alarm clock clear across the room, shattering it to pieces as it hit the wall.
Dave then calmed down. His breathing steadied, and he then began to weep. He then steadied himself, wiping the few tears from his eyes. He leaned back and sighed. The monitor to his left flicked on, and one of the medical staff appeared.
“Bad dream,” he asked.
Dave leaned over.
“Yeah…nothing out of the ordinary here,”
He looked over at the alarm clock.
“Might need a new alarm clock though.”
“Do you want something to help you sleep?” the man asked.
“No. No I’m done trying to sleep for now. Think I’ll head over to the mess hall and get a bite to eat.” Dave replied, swinging his legs over the mattress, and placing his feet on the floor.
“Aright then,” and with that, the screen went dark.
Standing up, he reached his hands up as far as they’d go. He cracked his neck, reached down, and grabbed his size seventeen shoes. Dave stood up and went over to his dresser. He put on a clean black T-shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. The signs of heavy fatigue were evident. He hadn’t slept properly for two weeks straight. Not since he had returned from his devastating enterprise on Operation: Vanguard. The end result had left him scarred physically and emotionally. And he felt horrible inside. A contingent of emotions haunted him every waking minute.
“Where did I go wrong?” Dave asked himself.
He turned and left, just as the monitor flicked on again.
“Dave…you’re actually going to the mess hall this time right?” the same man from before said in an irritated tone.
Dave banged his head on the door frame.
“Ouch!”
He rubbed his head.
“Dave, you and I both know drinking isn’t going to solve anything.”
“True, but it sure as hell makes me feel better.” Dave retorted, annoyed.
He walked out the door.
***
Dave sat down on a barstool. The bartender, Phil, came over.
“Back again, eh sarge? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
Dave glared back at him.
“Look kid, I don’t tell you how to live your life. Besides, I outrank you. Now give me a damn beer already.”
“Alright, alright…” Phil said backing off. He turned around and took down a large mug.
“So…if I may ask, sir, I don’t think you were always like this. Addicted to the booze I mean.”
He took out a beer and set it on the table in front of Dave.
“So what happened?”
Dave took the mug in his hand. He gulped it down within a few seconds, and set the empty mug on the counter next to him.
“Nothing you wanna hear about.” Dave replied.
The emotions swirling inside him seemed to calm a little. He didn’t feel as guilty now.
“Reload…”
Phil took the mug and filled it again. This time, when he set it down in front of Dave, he didn’t gulp it down as quickly. He calmly lifted it to his mouth and sipped. At that moment another marine entered the bar, and sat down at the end of the counter.
“I’ll be back,” Phil said as he walked over.
Dave set the half empty mug on the counter, and let his head rest, face down.
“I could have saved her…if I had just been quick enough…Amanda…I’m so sorry…”
The guilt returned, as did the depression, and Dave was worse than ever. He swallowed the last of the drink in his mug, and drifted off.
***
It was almost 2:30. Everyone in the classroom was eager to go home for a relaxing weekend, before the cycle started again. Friends talked, and horsed around while the teacher sat behind his desk, filing paperwork. Silent as ever, Dave glanced at the clock.
“Only seven more minutes…” he thought to himself.
Outside the window, the weather was beautiful: cloudless blue skies and bright warm sunshine. Not particularly Dave’s favorite kind of day. A stray pencil then hit him in the back of the head. He scratched the area where it hit.
“At least there’s only one more year of this. Then when I go to college I’ll probably never see any of these dimwits ever again.”
It’s not that Dave thought he was superior to everyone else, he just didn’t like people. He was social enough to get by; nothing beyond the required to proceed, but kept to himself most of the time. But there was, however, one person he did enjoy talking to, and she was sitting directly in front of him. Her name was Amanda: Brunette hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous body. Nice smile too. They had a lot common. They were both alone in the world. No family at home. But there was still one major difference: Amanda wasn’t as dark as Dave was.
She had close friends and was very open. Socialized on a regular basis, and for the most part lead a happy, ordinary life…Dave on the other hand? He was a loner. Very poor social skills, wasn’t exactly depressed all the time, more like somewhere ‘ok’ and ‘I’ve been better’. Dave also preferred dark colors. And whatever time he didn’t dedicate to his schoolwork and his part time job, was spent taking walks around town, and watching the sun set over at Madison Heights. All in all, one could say they were two complete opposites.
But lately, Dave had been taking a most peculiar interest in her. She was different than all the others. Out of an unyielding curiosity he wanted to know more about her. So he had devised a plan to ask her out. And it’s not like he was nervous or anything, he just wanted to play it safe; give himself enough time to back out, should anything happen. The clock read 2:37, and the bell rang. Everyone clamored out of the room, letting Dave be the last one out.
“Well, here goes nothing…”
He picked up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out the door. Gradually he caught up with Amanda, and when they were side by side, he started having second thoughts.
“Am I really gonna go through with this? What if she rejects me? Well it’s not like I’d really care, I mean there are other fish in the sea…oh, what the hell?”
“So Amanda, how’s it going?”
She turned her head to reply.
“Pretty well I guess…um…Dave, wasn’t it?”
“Yep, that’s me.” Dave replied scratching the back of his neck.
A short silence followed
So…are you new here; I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.” She asked.
Dave cracked a small smile.
“No, actually you and I have been in the same class since the 9th grade.”
“Oh…sorry…” Amanda blushed.
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m the quiet type.” Dave chastised. “Don’t usually say much to anyone.”
Another silence occurred as they neared the door.
“So listen,” Dave said at last.
Amanda turned her head to listen.
“Uh…I was wondering, are you…doing anything tonight?”

Chapter 2
Dave slowly awoke. He scratched an itch in his ear, and lifted his head off the counter. Looking around he then remembered where he was. He was alone. The bar was empty and dark. Groggily, he stood up, stretched his arms to the ceiling, and yawned. He felt at ease now; almost normal again...or at least as normal as he could get. He left, not knowing where he was going.
***
Upon returning to his apartment, Dave flicked the lights on. Everything was as he had left it. The bed hadn’t been made, and the pieces of the alarm clock lay on the floor against the opposite wall. He took off his shoes, and sat down on the bed. He sighed, and not five seconds later the monitor flickered on. A high ranking figure appeared.
“I was hoping I’d catch you here.” he spoke.
Dave looked at the screen.
“Well well, Major Johnson. What can this humble ne’er-do-well do for you?” Dave replied.
“I see your mood hasn’t improved any.” Johnson acknowledged ignoring Dave’s diminished manners.
“Well let’s see if you’re still in a good mood after you’ve been to hell and back twice.” Dave retorted.
Johnson sighed, removing his hat and running his fingers through his hair.
“Look, I didn’t call to argue. I called to make a proposition. But evidently you’re still recovering.”
Dave said nothing.
“I know what you’ve been through isn’t easy to cope with, but when you think you’re up to it, stop by my office so we can get started. I’ll let you be now.”
Dave sat up.
“Hey, I didn’t say I wasn’t ready, or that I wasn’t interested. Now what was it you wanted to say?”
Johnson hesitated, choosing his next words carefully.
“Suppose,” he said at last.
“That I could offer you the chance to extract revenge on a certain person,”
Dave sat forward, gripping the edge of the bed tightly.
“providing that you do the UNSC a small favor in return.”
Dave sat back and pondered. This is what he had been waiting for ever since it happened. The chance to avenge the unjust murder of Amanda; the one chance he needed to rip Kane’s head from his very shoulders.
“But what could they possibly want in return? I’m no longer in the UNSC. I had to get out…I couldn’t deal with it anymore…”
“Well major, let’s say I’m interested. But what does the UNSC want from me? I resigned, remember?”
Johnson chuckled and removed something from his desk drawer. He held a packet in his right hand, loosely waving it around.
“Not exactly…” Johnson chastised. “You filled out your 3071-D, but technically speaking it never got through.”
Dave was irked.
“Evidently, major; should have seen this coming…especially if it’s right there in front of me, being used as blackmail to further your endeavor. All right, I’ll bite: what is it you want me to do…sir?”
Johnson smiled. “Now that’s more like it. It’s best we discuss this in my office. I’ll be expecting you at 1500.”
Dave saluted, and the screen went dark. He held his position for a moment, then in a fit of rage took out his frustrations on the nearby wall, injuring his knuckles.
***
Glancing at his watch, Dave checked the time. He pushed the intercom button, which almost immediately opened the door. Major Johnson leaned on his desk, talking to another man. They stopped as Dave approached. He saluted, and Johnson did the same.
“Sergeant Donovan, this is Dr. Grant. He will be joining us today.”
“Alright major, err- sir,” Dave corrected himself.
“What is it you want me to do?”
Johnson searched for the right words.
“I think Dr. Grant would be better at explaining this than I would.” he said at last.
Dave gave his attention to the doctor.
Dr. Grant cleared his throat.
“Yes…well, as I’m fairly certain you’re aware of, when we finally located the NOD facility, and brought you back here, several modifications had already been made to your person.”
“I thought I look different this morning,” Dave retorted.
The Doctor ignored the comment.
“Like I was saying, the UNSC has never been fully able to produce a specimen like you; all attempts have lead to the same outcome: there have always been…complications.”
“Can we get on with this?” Dave asked, growing inpatient.
“Right…sorry…Well in short, we want to take a sample of your blood and tissue and perform experiments of our own.”
“And how long would it take to produce a viable subject?” Johnson inquired.
Dr. Grant scratched the back of his neck.
“Anywhere from 6 months to…well years down the line. But that’s with just the samples alone. I mean we have to take into consideration the time it would take to clone a subject and for further testing if something goes wrong…”
“What does this have to do with me?” Dave demanded. “Taking samples, creating specimens, you said you’d give me the chance to take some revenge; how does this help me accomplish that?”
“Well…” the Doctor hesitated.
“I guess we could come to a compromise, and kill two birds with one stone. We could have viable results quicker if we were to try experimenting with a living organism, as well as some tissue samples. And what’s more, if we succeed with enhancing you further, you are that much closer to your goal.”
“So what happens if you fail?” Dave asked.
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
Dave thought deeply...very deeply…deeper and harder than he had about anything else in his whole life.
“This is for Amanda…” he thought.
“Alright…I’ll do it. But let’s just get one thing straight: you do your experiments, you point me in the right direction, and you get the hell outta my way, understand?”
Dr. Grant looked at Johnson, who nodded in return.
“Done.”
Dave remained motionless.
“Well then Doctor, it looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”

hmmmm i like it is there more

O.o

someone replied!!!

um
yes, there is more...

im working on it...

diligently!

glad ur enjoying it, kis...

HB wrote:O.o

someone replied!!!

um
yes, there is more...

im working on it...

diligently!

glad ur enjoying it, kis...

ya i like it took me a little while to read but its good so far

glad you think so...

well, ima get to writing again tonight...

Pretty good so far (only read the prologue) but ill keep reading it from time to time.

i cant wait for more

Chapter 3

7 hours later…

Dr. Grant sat behind a computer terminal in the lab. Startup and registry information scrolled up and down the screen. He typed a few short sentences and more data entered the monitor.
CODENAME: PROJECT THOR

Test Subject: Dave Donovan
Age – 25
Height/Weight – 7”2’; 312 lbs
Blood Type – B
AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED
:
ACTIVATE PROJECT THOR?

Grant typed a few seconds more, and the screen changed again. A real-time diagram of Dave’s body appeared on screen, along with heart rate and other vital signs. Dave lay in a tank below.

“You ready,” Grant called down.

Dave turned his neck as best he could and replied through his breathing apparatus: “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright then…here we go.” said the doctor, pushing a stream of buttons on the keypad.
Behind Dave, machinery began to move. Through the back of the tube, several long arms appeared, tipped with very sharp looking needles. Grant pushed a button, and the needles were drove into Dave’s spine. He reacted in turn. His muscles strained, and his mind went blank. After injecting their payload, the needles retracted, leaving the test subject to thrash around in his prison. Dave’s vision blurred. Soon the pain receded, and he felt like passing out.

“No! This is for Amanda…for justice…for revenge...I’ll survive. Whatever punches they can throw is no match for me!”

Then through the tubes attached to his body, a gray colored liquid oozed its way down. Slowly at first, it gained momentum, until it reached the epidermal layer of Dave’s skin, and passed through to his very bones. The pain returned, stronger than ever. He let out a loud, long, cry, and all was silent.

***
Several needles injected into various parts of his body later, Dave was removed from his prison, and placed into a stasis chamber. His body ached and burned. His mind was buzzing with thoughts. The container was sealed as Dave lay back and relaxed. The lights dimmed. He felt his muscles ease, and his mind clear. Sleep overcame him, and he was out cold. Meanwhile outside the glass, Johnson and Grant stood watching him.

“How long will this take?” Johnson inquired.
Grant made some notes on his clipboard, and then answered.
“The alloy will need time to meld with his bone structure, as will the agents, serums and the rest of the compounds to the other components of his body.”
“How long?” Asked Johnson, cutting to the point.
The doctor turned his head.
“Soon enough.”

2 months later

Silence. A dense fog shrouded the ground, as dark clouds blocked out the sun. Thunder rumbled, and lightning struck at long intervals. A lone pelican flew swiftly, silently, to the NOD encampment. Dave sat alone his drop pod, brooding over the battle to come.

“Your bones now have the density of hardened steel; your muscular system has been increased five-fold, giving you superhuman strength. Your reflexes are inhuman. And, you have increased metabolism, giving you the ability to self heal. Even the most serious wounds will heal in a matter of minutes. As of right now, you are THE most advanced piece of UNSC weaponry to-date; you are Thor! And combined with Mjolnir, your armor; your hammer; your weapon, you will decimate all who stand before you. Now only one question remains, Dave: Are you ready?”
“Let me go…”

One of the pilots walked back, and knocked twice on the hull. Dave replied in turn.
“Project Thor is a go.” The pilot called over his microphone.
“Over the drop zone in 5; we are undetected.”

Meanwhile on the ground, a red dot appeared on enemy radar. The current operator pushed a button and isolated it.
“Sir, we have contact.”
“How many of what class,” an officer demanded walking over to the screen.”
“Single target…troop transport, looks like a Pelican.”
“Looks like the UNSC came to negotiate a surrender, eh?”
The operator humored him with a chuckle, although his views of the war were totally different.
“Dispose of it,” replied the officer, walking away.
The operator obeyed.
“Yes sir…”
The private activated the defense grid, and targeted the doomed pelican.

Red lights flashed in the cockpit, accompanied with a frantic beeping noise.

“Evasive action!”
The pilot turned the controls as hard as he could, in an attempt to evade the incoming fire. Tracers whizzed past the aircraft, lighting the sky ablaze. While some missed their targets altogether, others made a direct hit. Holes filled the right wing, as did the rear of the hull. Dave sat calmly in his pod, practically oblivious to their situation.

“We gotta drop him now, this is getting too hot!” The pilot yelled.
“Can’t! The damn thing’s shot; Gotta do it manually!”
“Then get your ass back there and do it!”

The copilot got up, and as best he could ran back to where Dave was still sitting. He shoved his shoulder into the pod, and pushed as hard as he could. Slowly at first, it moved closer and closer toward the edge of the craft. Below, the landscape was charred black and grey, with multiple lights emitting from the AA batteries below. Then he spied a SAM missile heading their way. Backing up and with a running start, he ran into the pod one last time, and sent it falling to the ground. The copilot then returned to his seat, and remained motionless. He then took out his pistol, and before the pilot could stop him, he took his own life.

Inside his casket, Dave was undaunted by the chaos around him. His body was at ease, and his mind content. And as the rounds exploded around him, he thought of only the satisfying taste of cold revenge. The ground grew closer as he dropped a thousand feet straight down. When the pod reached its terminal velocity, the parachute deployed, and the craft shook. After a matter of brief seconds, the parachute detached, leaving the pod to drop the remaining three-hundred feet, and land in a large cloud of rock and dust. An APC was on the spot and had already deployed its troops. They scrambled and covered the pod with their rifles.
Suddenly, the door was kicked out and flew straight into the unlucky soldier in its way. A tall, massive figure emerged. He wore black armor, and a matching helmet masking his face. In his right arm he held a very nasty looking weapon. And before the soldiers could open fire, the figure let loose a stream of hot lead, mowing them down, and cutting an unfortunate victim clean in half. The barrel on his weapon ceased spinning, and gave off steam.

Glancing at the APC, Dave raised his left arm, holding another weapon resembling a rocket launcher, pulled the trigger, and let a high powered laser destroy the vehicle.
Shifting his gaze upwards, he spotted the burning wreckage of the Pelican he was in only seconds ago spiraling towards the ground. Dave’s personal war against NOD had at long last begun.

im not usually a big fan of halo FF but this one is just talent

sweeet...

maybe i do have a talant afterall...

well i read a few of the halo books and i noticed they had random tiny tiny details like when keyes chews his pipe or when someone pulls lint out of their pocket and you had quite a few of those so i liked how it kept pace with the books

the next chapter is done...
i just need to post it...

Chapter 4

Amanda thought for a moment.

“Well, I work until six. Then I’m free for the rest of the night. Why?”

“So far so good…” Dave thought.

“Well I was wondering,” he then shifted his gaze elsewhere for a split second.

“If, I dunno…if you wanna go see a movie or something later on.”

She then smiled. Dave felt relieved that part was off his chest.

“Are you asking me out?” she then asked.

Dave was suddenly at a loss for words. He then stopped abruptly, took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and then replied.

“Yeah…I am asking you out.”

Amanda was practically beaming.

“Sure I’d love to!”

Dave started to sweat.

“Great…so where do you work?”

“I’m the receptionist at the Falco building. You know where that is, right?”

Dave actually had to think for a full second before replying.

“Yeah…I unload the trucks that come into the warehouse on upper fifth. I don’t think it’s that far away.”

“Great…I’ll see you tonight,” she said, turning and continuing down the hallway towards the door, leaving Dave standing where he was, relieved the conversation hadn’t blown up in his face.

“I don’t believe it…” he said out loud.

“She actually said yes”.

He then laughed once to himself, and resumed walking. Halfway down the steps, he laughed again. Dave was happy. He walked with a spring in his step as he walked across the parking lot to his car. The door to his Camero unlocked as he approached. He opened the door, stuck the key into the ignition, and was on his way. As he sped down the street in the opposite direction, he let out a last cheer of “Whoohoo!” and was gone.

***

After stacking yet another crate in his usual persnickety manner, the clock went off, signaling the end of Dave’s shift. He stopped and took a breather. Looking behind him he took note of the half full truck behind him, and also the time on the clock. It read 5:00. Rather than have his pay docked, and moreover leave a job half finished and go against his principles, he remained and finished the job in his usual manner. Muscles aching, he picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, walking towards the main entrance. Without shifting his gaze or stopping in the least but he pulled out his ID and held it on front of the window of the security checkpoint.

“Have a good night Dave,” the guard said, without looking up from his magazine.

Out in the parking lot, Dave found his Grey Camero was one of the few cars in it. He cast a long shadow across the yellow lines as the city grew darker. The door unlocked, the lights flickered, and Dave got in. Tossing his jacket in the back seat, he sat back and closed his eyes. Finally it occurred to him that the day wasn’t over. He looked at his wrist watch.

“5:45…better get going…”

Dave then took notice of his apparel. His grey sleeveless T-shirt was covered in blotches of sweat, and his jeans were faded with a slight hole in the left knee. Hastily he took the shirt off and put on a clean, plain black shirt he brought for just such an incident. He popped the trunk and tossed the dirtied shirt in a ball onto the floor. He smoothed his new shirt, and gave himself a once over.

“I guess I don’t look too bad…would have preferred to get a better pair of pants, but I guess this’ll have to do.”

Closing the trunk, he walked back around, opened the door, and sat down. He inserted the key into the ignition, turned it, and was rewarded with a loud roar from his vehicle’s V-8. The car then idled in a quieter tone. Dave accelerated, and left the parking lot.

The city was bustling with night life. Neon lights littered the streets. People walked up and down the sidewalk, enjoying the warm, crisp night. Feeling the silence was too distracting, Dave turned on the radio at a red light. The first channel he came to was what Dave thought to be straight out of VH1 hell, and quickly flipped to the next station, which was actually worse than the first. Then he came to the local news station, and finding it to be at least somewhat interesting, left the knob alone. The light turned green. Dave turned right, and continued for another five blocks.

Finding nothing of interest in the news, other than the mentioning of some cult called ‘NOD’, popping up all over the inner sphere like wildfire, he turned the radio off, with a chill running down his spine. At last he reached the Falco building. He pulled into the parking lot and looked for a place in the rear to park. He looked at his watch again. It read 5:58. Dave turned the key, shut the motor off, and waited. He took the time to check his surroundings. To his right he saw a brick wall, signaling the end of the property, and to his left the main street. The wall also ran behind him, and in front was one of the side entrances, where everyone seemed to be coming out of at 6:00.

He waited and watched. At first everyone seemed to come out in one big group, gradually slowing to groups of two or three, and finally seeming to end with one or two people coming out every two minutes or so. And none of them was Amanda.

“I didn’t miss her, did I? She did say 6:00, right? Then again she didn’t say which entrance…”

Then two more people walked out the door. Dave recognized the blonde haired one as Amanda. She wore a dark skirt with a white long sleeved shirt, with her hair braided. But the brunette, dressed in more or less the same fashion, he was not so sure of.

“Probably one of her co workers,” he thought.

He watched them as they walked out to the center of the parking lot.

“So, you’re going on a date tonight?” Amanda’s friend asked.

“So what’s his name?”

Amanda’s face turned pink.

“His name is Dave…he’s pretty nice. Also mysterious; he doesn’t seem to be like all the other guys I know there’s something…almost different about him.”

Off to her right, Amanda saw a pair of headlights flash on and off.

“I think that’s him right there.”

“Well you two have fun,” her friend replied, walking off towards her car.

Dave turned the ignition, and once again his Camero roared to life. He drove over to Amanda, who opened the door and sat down.

“Hi Amanda,” Dave said.

“Hey Dave.” she answered with a smile, closing the door. As they left the parking lot and turned onto the street, she took her earrings out and placed them in her purse. She then undid her hair braid and let her blonde hair fall gently around her neck. Dave suddenly felt uneasy, and began to mildly sweat.

“So Amanda,” he said, trying to spark a conversation.

“Do you have a preference as to what movie we see; I hear that Star Wars movie is still playing.”

Amanda turned her head to reply.

“I actually want to see that Star Wars movie. Hard to believe it’s still around in the twenty-sixth century, and it was made almost six hundred years prior.”

“Yeah it is.” Dave commented.

“But you can’t beat the classics. Once they appear, there is no getting rid of them.”

A silence then followed. After turning a few corners and going down some more streets, they reached the theatre. Dave stopped the car on the far reaches of the parking lot, and shut the motor off. He then got out and did the gentlemanly thing and opened the door for Amanda.

“My, what a gentleman,” she said.

“Yeah, my dad was big on the chivalry. While manners may degrade with each generation, he couldn’t stress it enough to me. Well, we still have fifteen minutes.” he spoke, glancing at his watch.

“Are you ready?”

“Sure am. Let’s go.”

Dave offered his arm, and Amanda accepted with a smile. He then took the car keys out of his pocket, and locked the car, which responded with a dual high pitched beep.

***



Two hours later, the sun had set, and the city was alive. Dave stopped the car as they neared Amanda’s apartment.

“Well Amanda,” Dave spoke up.

“I don’t know about you, but I had fun tonight.”

“So did I,” Amanda replied in turn. She then took out a folded piece of paper from her purse and handed it to Dave.

“Here, call me sometime. Thanks for everything Dave.”

Dave accepted and answered with a smile. She then got out, and walked up to the door, opening it, and disappearing within. Dave gave a content sigh, and drove down the street and off to his apartment.

mein gott!

is anyone even reading this?
...

dont answer that...

I've already read it at HWF lol

-_-

*is still ignoring civbase*
>.>

its ok...
i have a plan...
the plan to end all plans...
and in a larger sense the planning of planning...
...

well its the first i have seen of a halo/C&C/wolverine FF, and i though Amandas hair was brunette?

...

anymore i dont remember...


and you forgot COD 4...

^^

no, I Have A Plan.




You have an idea.

...

i have a plot...?

why cant i have a plan?

HB wrote:...

i have a plot...?

why cant i have a plan?

Because hes fucking Lord Pheonix?

Its a lot easier to just accept that you can't have a plan than to argue about it.

...

whatever...

i have a plot...

a plot to end all plots, and in a larger sense the plotting of all plots...