The Enemies

Captured

Oden

Who would name a town Sunbright?

The pathetic traditions are the only thing these people cherish. Drell will smash them, demolish all they hold dear. The Karmians paint freakin walls and watch sunsets while Drellians struggle to stay alive. They will be cleaning our shit after the war is over. Not that they are good enough for that.

I am sitting on the porch. Bright sun in my face. But it is Karmian sun, no match for the thing that incinerates the Drellians as well as any potential food on our land. I dig the point of my gun into the old wood, trying to dent it. I use my weapon as a shovel, griding it into the material and watching how one solid piece transforms into the lump wood. I have a DH7, lightweight, but relatively large. The crosshair could be better, but the blowback is nearly a zero. A good gun. But not better than G390. After my watch squeezes an ear-bleeding beep, I seize the attempts to torture an old thing and head for the vehicle.

Intelligence required support for one of the operations. I have an extra person in my division. Rufus Knelt. Good record, but some information in his file is missing. So he did something against protocol for the government or the Council. Obviously, his moral is not in the record, if existent at all. It rubs me the wrong way that he is assigned to my squad by an order. When I usually select people myself. It builds trust and control. Rufus Knelt is a pig in a poke.

The mission is to secure the meet of a spy that assists us in receiving information from the Karmian tactic team. Intelligence has no intention to move him to Drell. So our task is easy – wait till he passes the last bit of data, then treat him to a bullet. We created several scenarios to make sure nothing goes wrong. A regular mission, nothing out of the ordinary.

Graverstone is on the border between the forces. We arrive early before sunrise. Now the sun is up, and the sky is of a light blue color with small white clouds. The warm breeze on my face. Nice. We take the buildings per the agreed plan, with me on the roof of the further house. To the South of the square where the meet is scheduled. I station my rifle and adjust it so I can easily change the position and hit the target if it tries to escape. I peek to check the view.

'On station.'

My mic is sipiciously quiet as if my affirmative is swallowed by silence of the lazy summer day.

The place is lit with light. The sun is reflecting on the windows of the nearest buildings, but it does not mess with my vision. I lie there, concentrating on the wind and my breathing. The only picture I see is the square through my laser sight, concealed by concrete.

I would feel better with GMR in my hands, multifunctional, multi-caliber weapon weighing no more than 6 lbs with a shorter barrel and collapsible buttstock. It has the same magnetic sound suppresser as in G390 gun and day and night laser optics. It is better than mine, lighter than mine, more sophisticated, but since the Council made it a point to use only weapons of Drellian origin, I have to make my peace with the weapon I have. It is good but certainly not the best there is.

The rest of A9 should be located either inside the neighboring building or on the rooftops like myself. The mic is still disturbingly silent.

'Report.'

Now I sound both alarmed and annoyed. I tense when I feel something bump into my head. I catch my breath and turn from the rifle. A man is standing right next to me smiling broadly - I never heard him approach.

'Get up.'

I wince from the strong Karmian accent.

'Turn around and stand up.'

I do as I am told. He kicks my rifle to the side and ties my hands with some kind of automatic cuffs. The weird thing beeps once connected with my hands, rolls tighter, and something clicks as if someone closed the safe. These are tight, and I will not be able to move my arms behind my back. The man smirks and shoves me towards the door of the building. We walk silently down the stairs. When we reach the third floor, he shoves me some more to enter the room to my right. Nyx, Holt, and Oszias are already there standing on their knees with their hands behind their backs. Their rifles lie next to the man at the entrance. Rufus and Tom are missing. Four of Karmians in the room, two at the gate. One is talking on the communicator.