Memories of a Better Time: Stage 1

August, 29, 2011: United States of America



Three days ago the Iraq War reached its end with the capture of Osama Bin Laden. The highly unorthodox tactics of the US forces have sullied the nation’s good name. Without any allies, the USA is all alone. Nuclear war is the only remaining option for survival. At a loss of what to do United States President Barack Obama has given up on the situation and walled off Washington D.C., leaving the choice for nuclear war in the hands of the citizens.


Both the East and West hold strong opinions about how this should be handled and the West has started a second civil war against the East. Out-gunned and out-manned the east hired an extremist PMC called the TAM to defend “The line in the sand” that divides east and west and the stronghold of Washington D.C.


The US senate decided to leave the problem as it is as opposed to creating another situation politically, and therefore is a suspect of a nationwide conspiracy to overthrow a paranoid Obama.

Enter Richard Bygenou…


September, 17, 2011: No Location



Richard Bygenou is a tactical genius with a taste for destruction, playing chess and war games since the age of four he’s outwitted everyone who’s ever challenged him. All he’s needed for years is a way to prove to the world that America is still a great nation, and if this war isn’t an opening, I couldn’t say what is.


September, 18, 2011: Eastern Defense Line: Tactical Time: 1200 hours

“Sergeant!” Bygenou yelled. “Get up there and give us some cover fire!” The sergeant nodded and signaled to his heavy machine gun teams to open fire on the TAM emplacement. Bygenou noticed a small plane flying lazily about in the smoke filled sky. “A recon plane,” he said to himself “but who would be watching?” The machine gun crews finally opened fire on the emplacement, creating a deadly crossfire that would exterminate anyone who was unlucky enough to stroll through it.
“Lieutenant Caio, I need the radio!” Bygenou yelled across the trench. Caio came running up with his head down, as to not be decapitated by enemy fire
“Have it right here sir.” Caio responded. Bygenou took the radio and pressed the talk button.

“Echo three-fifteen we need an evac from the situation, I have acquired a target locator and I intend to end this battle with one blow.” Bygenou said into the radio quickly. A voice came through the transceiver
“Roger that Bravo thirty-five, ETA fifteen minutes”
“Roger, out” Bygenou said with fear, as an artillery shell blew up his machine gun defense. Bygenou looked at Caio, “Give me your sniper rifle; I can handle this artillery gunner.” Caio relinquished the sniper rifle to Bygenou with a scowl. Bygenou held the sniper rifle up to the end of the trench and took aim at the artillery gunner. He held his breath and hugged the gun against his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. A fireball erupted from the barrel of the gun, when the flame cleared Bygenou could see that he hit his mark, the artillery gunner was gone.
“Wow, I’m not even trained to be a sniper” Bygenou boasted.


The distant sound of a helicopter was heard by both sides, the TAM took aim with an anti air cannon at where they thought it was coming from and unleashed the barrage of missiles only to be hit itself by two missiles from nowhere. Bygenou was yelling across the entrenchment “Evac is arriving! Get to the back of the trench!”
Soldiers were scrambling to get to the back of the trenches, falling over abandoned guns and dead comrades. The helicopter touched down, it was a westernized and elongated Hind attack chopper with extra space for soldiers. Bygenou climbed into the gunner’s seat as his “inner circle” entered the seats behind him.



The regular soldiers were in the bay that was originally cargo space, but was retrofitted with extra seating.


“Close the hatches pilot!” Bygenou yelled above the spinning rotors. With a clanking noise the doors auto-closed and the hatch in the back closed. “43 seconds to takeoff” The pilot said to Bygenou over a radio. Bygenou moved a 25 millimeter cannon into place in the gunner’s hatch and attached the target locator to it. With a metallic screeching the helicopter started to move. It eventually reached its cruising altitude of one-hundred-fifty feet in the air.



“Pilot swing a 180 around the enemy forces and get us out of here!” Bygenou commanded over the radio. The helicopter lurched forward into the maneuver while Bygenou nearly deafened himself with blasts from the 25 cannon. Bygenou pressed the target locator button and lazed an artillery battery for an air strike. “Tango three-seven fire mission, approved ETA thirteen seconds”



The helicopter was now going back the way it came, from the northeast, towards Missouri.



When Bygenou escaped, an air strike ruined the enemy emplacement and broke the eastern defense line. The West’s main force could now have a possibility of reaching Washington D.C. This move, albeit cowardly
Won the day for the West and brought about a new sense of hope to the civilians. This victory broke the stalemate between the East and West.



December, 11, 2011: No Location



As far as social stigma goes, it can almost never be good. Very seldom can a stigma shine a positive light on anything, and of course this includes the Senate’s conspiracy. The conspirators supposedly fight the political and underground war for a good cause.


But Obama knows that too, he knows that if the West reaches Washington D.C. and the conspirators assist them, it’s over for the Obama administration…forever. With that being said, the administration has started riots and insurrections that go unchecked for long periods of time in an effort to demoralize the conspirators.




December, 11, 2011: Western Military Base, Missouri: 1300 hours.



“Sir, here’s the Intel on DC you asked for” Lieutenant Caio Ubayama said producing a small folder from his coat. “Thank you lieutenant.” Bygenou replied taking it. Bygenou looked over the Intel with a scowl.


“You would think they’d defend the capital more. After all if we take DC, we win this war.” Byegenou explained to Tactical Forecaster Timothy Swanson.


“Well, I suspect there will be more than one line behind those walls, sir.” Swanson replied. Bygenou looked irritated at the retort and scanned over the Intel again.


“Regardless we can use the chaos within the walls to our advantage. As of yesterday we cut out way northeast from northern Texas via helicopter, so if we’re as strong as we think we are, the main force shouldn’t be far behind,” Bygenou thought aloud.



The shrill whining noise of a pressure chamber being ruptured and then the cracking of an explosion were heard outside. The occupants of the tent; Bygenou and his inner circle; rushed out with their very-high-powered, high-velocity, armor-piercing, .50 caliber pistols all customized to each person’s taste, poised to attack the apparent threat. To no avail all they saw was the smoldering remains of what were once transport choppers, and the burning bodies of the technicians and other soldiers screaming in pain.



Everyone but Bygenou went back to the tent, thinking it was a weapons misfire that ruptured a pressurized fuel chamber, which caused a chain-reaction with the air and combusted, starting another chain-reaction of exploding helicopters.



Bygenou was cunning, he knew better, he knew that it was no misfire; the high-impact rounds of an upgraded AR15 carbine were not enough to rupture an armored fuel tank. No, there was someone else, someone who wants their attention. Just then a rustling sound was heard in the forest to the west and three power-armor toting soldiers rolled out of the thicket. The armors were all similar in model, bulky bodies, proportionate arms and legs, and a spherical apparatus where a head should be that acts as a radar and IFF signal known as an LOCATIONSPHERE.



The only thing that made the armors differ from one another is the arms; one had a seemingly extendable arm with a claw on the end and an M134 chain gun on the other arm. The second had a regular left arm but the forearm was elongated and kind of bulky, the right arm possessed a claw with some sort of emitter in the palm. The third machine was boasting dual flamethrowers and hacking tools on the wrists.



Overall the suits were at least three times as tall as a normal person. The middle armor, with the elongated forearm, had the words “The Spirit of America” on the thigh plating. “Judging by the designation on the armor, it must be the leader” Bygenou thought. The armors lurched closer, slowly yet ever so deadly. The legs clinked and clanked as they moved and when they reached the FOB they stopped. “It seems if they were here to shoot me, they would have done it already.” Bygenou thought.



The chest of The Spirit of America opened and a devicer wearing odd colors pretty much fell out. The devicer, noticing he just fell out of his armor, got up quickly with a spring and looked around as if saying “did anyone see that?” The devicer turned to Bygenou and lightened the visor of his helmet, revealing his face. He had brown eyes and a long nose, and his helmet was customized to accommodate that. “I am the conspirator leader. You may call me Lancelot,” he said. “My compatriots and I have a plan that may interest you. Richard Bygenou.”




December, 12, 2011: Forward Operations Base, Missouri: 0800 hours



Bygenou and Lancelot were sitting at the conference table in the large tent. Very little light could get into the tent, but what light wasn’t supplied by the sun outside was replaced by lanterns that run off of petroleum, which is now much more expensive than the newly found energy source, Akkronite, not to mention that Akkronite is not combustible like petroleum is. “So, what’s this master plan of yours?” Bygenou asked. “First, we must infiltrate the walls of DC. There will be several regiments DC’s own guard force behind the wall. An aerial assault is the most viable option, however DC has an air-defense grid spanning at least five miles. An assault from the ground would yield unfortunate results, attacks from the air, power armors, tanks and artillery.



There are no other routes into DC but once were in” Lancelot was cut off by noises outside. “Do you hear that Bygenou? Sounds like gunshots!” Lancelot said in a panic. Bygenou drew his pistol and used its gold plating as a mirror to look outside but he tilted it at an inopportune angle and he was blinded by a sunbeam. All he could se was white, all he could hear were gunshots and the dying screams of Western elites and conspirator drones. Bygenou’s eyes finally adjusted, he could see, he could fight. He looked back to make sure Lancelot was safe, to his annoyance, Lancelot was gone. Bygenou rushed out of the nylon fiber doors to the tent with his pistol raised to meet the threat, but they saw him first. Ten soldiers with upgraded M4A1 carbines poised to kill. One soldier looked very triumphant, enjoying his victory.



At his feet was a captured Lt. Ubayama. “You, or him” the center soldier said in a monotone voice. “First off, who are you? Second what do you want?” Bygenou asked in a calm voice. “We are the wind. We are everyone, yet no one. Never heard of us?” The soldier laughed “No one living has.” The crack of a gunshot roared from behind Bygenou and, in that second the back of Lt. Ubayama’s head busted open. The body of the Lieutenant dropped to the ground he was seriously injured, but if the experiments he was put through as a teenager proved to actually work, the bleeding would stop or at least slow down.

“Looks like its you. Bygenou” The soldier taunted.



Two Miles Away.



A man wearing all black was lying next to what seemed to be an insanely advanced and high-powered sniper rifle. He wore a mask with an attached communicator. There was an eye symbol on his shoulder plates, and below it were symbols that looked more foreign than hieroglyphics. “Field unit to base, I have silenced the target and begun the event reaction. No need to retrieve the body, let time run its course.” The man said into the communicator. “Great work recon seven, you are clear to return to base. All we have to do now is make sure nothing else happens to disrupt the events to come.” A female voice responded into the communicator

“Roger that control…” The recon unit replied.




Forward Ops Base, Missouri, 0924 hours.



The soldier kicked Caio’s lifeless body away from his legs and changed his target to Bygenou. “SOLDIERS! OPEN FIRE!” he yelled. In that instant Bygenou ducked and dived away from the soldiers about to aerate his chest with .556 bullets. He found himself behind the now burnt-out husks of the helicopters that exploded last night. The soldiers ceased fire.


“You can’t hide forever Bygenou, and no-one is coming to save you,” the soldier’s leader taunted.



“On the contrary, I think this is where the tables turn.” Bygenou retorted.



He reached for his gold .50 caliber pistol and found to his misfortune, that it was missing. He looked frantically around, a life or death situation and the most deadly and cliché thing had happened. His pistol was sitting like a trap in waiting just out of his reach, and the cover’s protection. His communicator rang, the shrill tones piercing the lethal silence. Bygenou answered with a shaky “Yeah?”



“BYGENOU! GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Yelled Lancelot’s voice through the speaker of the communicator.


Bygenou looked above him and gazed upon The Spirit of America floating above him. Its hands folded backwards in four pieces and a barrel extended from the forearm and attached to the opening where the hand was. The barrel extended longer and locked in place, it supported the barrel using its leg and opened the breach of the cannon with its right arm and loaded in a red shell. It closed and locked the breach of the cannon and fired, the flames of the cannon firing blinded Bygenou and when the shell hit the soldiers, they bursted into a silver-hot ball of fire that Bygenou could feel the heat from. The armor landed and Lancelot exited.


“Armor, engage protocol EE-342” Lancelot commanded to the armor



The armor clanked around and rearranged itself into a helicopter. Lancelot walked over to Caio’s body and picked it up. “It’s still salvageable, if nothing else for the nanobots.” Lancelot explained. He placed the body into the helicopter and motioned for Bygenou to enter as well. Bygenou ran over, not forgetting his Gold .50, and entered the helicopter’s passenger/gunner seat. “So, any plans?” Bygenou inquired to Lancelot. “To DC, we should still continue with the mission although Caio is incapacitated.” Lancelot answered. The helicopter started to rise
Into the smoke filled sky with a silence.



December, 13, 2011, 1234 Hours



They had been flying over the US for about a day and are almost to DC, only a few miles remain. “Hold on, there’s a lock on us” Lancelot said in an alert voice

“THEY EXPANDED THE AIR DEFENSE NETWORK!! THEY KNEW WE WERE COMING!!!” Lancelot yelled. Missiles rose with blinding speed from the ground and gave chase to Bygenou and Lancelot. The first missile made impact and blew the tail off the helicopter. “BRACE YOURSELF, WE’RE GOING DOWN!” Lancelot screamed as the rest of the missiles made impact. The helicopter was spinning out of control; it fell for about thirty seconds until it crashed on a cliff. “Bygenou, get down. I can hear a patrol car.” Lancelot whispered. The car stopped at the helicopter’s wreckage. “Sweep the wreckage and execute the survivors” one of the TAM patrol units commanded. “Bygenou, in here” Lancelot whispered. Bygenou climbed into a storage bin, and then used the cloaking device to cloak the bin from the patrol.


The patrol paced the wreckage and searched every nook and cranny that they could see. One of the units looked dangerously close to where Bygenou and Lancelot were hiding. Bygenou reached for his knife. “No, let him pass.” Lancelot explained with hand signals.
The patrol re-entered their vehicle and drove off. Lancelot uncloaked the bin and looked outside. “Clear for now, we must press on as soon as we can, ill use the cloaking devices to cloak the chopper and Caio’s body.” Bygenou emerged from the wreckage and stepped up to the edge of the cliff and saw it. The large hexagonal walls of the objective, of Washington DC.



















END OF STAGE ONE…





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