The city's populace is in a state of panic after another suspected-"gas/chemical" bomb blasted 4 blocks away from the initial blasts at the mall. Inspector Ghenes can't help but notice suspicious vans and cars with youngsters in groups passing by, mostly masked with bandanas. One car happened to pull over beside his car parked at a local shop, the bass from the car's speakers were drumming Hektor's ears with that House Party- Meek Mill song the kids were bobbing their heads to. What a bunch of impolite assholes; having the guts to enjoy and play out loud at this critical time of emergency. 'Quite rigid balls too for pulling over at a very vibrant police car with that kind of music. These kids weren't educated with local laws regarding noise and courtesy in this city.
Hektor had lots of things in mind. The irritation with those youngsters was just silly. Irritability was probably caused by over fatigue, and the overwhelming series of emergencies. He wanted to pursue those suspicious kids, but,
"Neh.. Fuck that. No, time for that. I have bigger things to do at hand. " said Hektor to himself while waitin for Dr. Dimayuga to arrive in the car. They're headed to the city hall to attend the emergency meeting summoned by the president. A 25-mile radius of tight security and mobile patrols at every block were set to prepare the arrival of the president along representatives from different branches of the government, and high-ranking officials.
"How do I look?"
"Gorgeous, doc. Except that you're sweating a lot." Ghenes buckled in the straps of the seatbelt, pre-heated the engine and started the car immediately.
"Well. What do you expect? I got up late because I slept late. 3 hours of sleep aren't enough for me to prepare for this meeting." She pulled on tissues from her purse and tapped on her face lightly at the side mirror.
Ghenes and Lyn looked at each other.
"Seat belts, doc."
"Ohh, yeah. I forgot. Let's go."
----
While the two left for the meeting, the group of youngsters who pulled over near Ghenes. Dismounted from the van and pulled some high powered rifles with them to a odd looking door beside the shop.
A muzzle at the chest of a kid stopped the youngsters from walking.
"IDs?"
A black bandana-masked kid from behind pulled out a red leather booklet with a Mangsic flag on it.
"This looks rare. You bastards are lucky you were able to pass through this tight security. Get in. The boss is waiting for you."
Each of them stepped in while taking quick glances outside if anyone had seen them. The alleyway to the bar room wasn't that spacey to accommodate them all. But the leader made his way through the alleyway after all meeting the suited boss who's entertained by 2 hookers cuddled up in his arms.
The boss squinted and examined the leader's face. He hardly recognized him due to the dim bar lights danced and flashed off all over the place.
"Where's our money?" asked the leader. Standing firm and his eyes fixed cold at the boss.
The boss smirked and replied, "Manners. Kid. Manners. I need proof of your accomplishment of the job I have sent you to do."
"Are you that drunk and high enough to know what's happening around you?" The leader easily found the remote control and switched on the TV, displaying the news of the bombing from every channel.
"You believe me now? You're still calling me "a kid"?"
The boss smirked again; this time with a little more respect.
"I guess I've underestimated your capability, Roco." Finally uttering the word. The leader earned some respect from a big fish.
"Shall we get back to the payment?" asked Roco while stretching his fingerless leather gloves back to his wrist.
"Of course. I seem to like your style, Roco. You have no time for bullshit and always ready to do the job. I would just like to make myself clear. The cops are getting hyped up and pretty much on alert on this very time until every single one of them drops out and decay." Boss stopped for a while leaned forward to the center table to reach out to a bottle of brandy.
"For the time being, I would expect a practice of loyalty from your part. I'm guessing that you know what I mean, right Roco?" He poured halfway to his glass, and stared cold at Roco.
"I won't rat out. As long as you're true to your words in terms of reward. Otherwise, you also know what I mean, Mr. Tan."
"Hahaha! Then the interest is mutual then. Do not threaten me, boy. I'm sure you'll be overly satisfied with the generosity that I'd have to offer." Boss Tan leaned back to the sofa and beckoned to his guards.
The guards thumbed in a code pad and a locker opened in front of them. They pulled 2 black plastic crates and laid them at Roco.
Firm as a statue. Roco observed the black crates and his eyes returned to Tan.
"Be my guest." Boss Tan took a slow sip of his drink.
Roco ducked down and opened the first crate with ease. The hasps and lock were convenient for a weary gang leader to inspect. The crate must've been used many times for different transactions. Roco thought.
"Crystal Meth, Uberflak and cash. Neatly packed." Roco stared back at Boss in an interrogating manner.
"Six Hundred Fifty Thousand. Cash. I have a counter here if you'd ask."
"And guns?"
"Well, my boy. You haven't even opened the second gift box.
Roco opened up the second chest. The lid seemed to be rough and difficult to lift. But Roco managed to forcefully open it anyway.
In it were assault rifles, 3 AK-74s, 5 gold-plated Desert Eagle Pistols, 2 Spas-12 shotguns, 1 PSG-1 sniper, a dozen of glock pistols and 4 smaller boxes filled with different ammo.
Roco's eyes swept every inch of detail on the firearms and said, "Nice doing business with you, Boss Tan."
Boss Tan raised his glass for a toast, "My pleasure.Next time again."
Roco's men began securing everything that's in the crates and transferred them in his van with hurry. As the two leaders waited, Tan grabbed a glass from a drawer and handed it to Roco.
"I believe I should acknowledge your effort with a simple toast."
Roco took the glass and waited as Tan poured a generous amount of brandy on it. They clinked glasses. Roco drank it on one gulp. Bottoms up. Tan smiled and just drew the glass close to his lips but didn't drink. Roco didn't notice it, anyway.
"We shall be going then."
"Til we meet again for another, 'business.'" Tan signaled his guards to escort the guys out.
Roco left followed by his last 2 fellas. They all hopped in their van and drove off.
Tan, still holding his drink, turned into the sink and emptied it. He let hot water overflow and wash it off, then grabbed on the bottle to pour in.
"Otherwise, you also know what I mean." Repeating the manner of words from Roco.
"Poor choice of words, young kid. You have a lot of shit to learn before you can fucking smudge my suit." and he took a sip from his drink, smiling back at his stoned hookers.
Roco felt a gut-wringing pain from his stomach and started passing out. The boys started sniffing out from the bag of powder they've been rewarded with.
"Stop the fucking car." said Roco, struggling to catch the attention of his driver. His driver was busy. Vibing and rapping out loud with others on a hip-hop song. Laughing. Screaming. The high. The fucking bass of the song rang and drilled some more pain in Roco's stomach and produced bullets of sweat from his temples.
"Stop the fucking car." Uttered Roco again with a lower volume this time. With his eyes barely keeping its lids up, he hardly poked in his mouth. He wanted to throw up. He can't speak out any louder the fucking song.
God-damn it, hear me out. Just as he was about to pass out, he jerked the door knob of the speeding van as he can no longer bear the pain.
The same time, the van blew up catapulting him out into a nearby garbage pile by the river. The music stopped with the van. The frame of the van were ablazed. The debris was scattered everywhere hitting bystanders nearby; creating more panic with the already hysterical populace of the city. Roco was laying motionless on the pile of garbage. Dizzy. Still wanted to puke. He choked on his fingers and the nauseating smell of garbage helped in making him throw up. He punched his gut some more. What the fuck just happened?
He looked out into the van and can hardly see it. Blurry and painful, we watched it burn. He can see the guts of his dudes sprayed all over the asphalt road. Thick smoke ascended up. The sirens rang in the background. Fuck. We've got company again. I gotta get outta here, before the fucking cops catch me. Come on, Roco, crawl. Stand up. Fucking run. He crawled with the best of his might. He saw a river behind the pile of garbage. He crawled into the bank and splashed into the running water.
He can't see anymore. His eyes shut, but he felt the water taking him somewhere. He could care less. As long as he's away from the van. Something made him weak. And he no longer knew what happened next.
-----
The president arrived on time of the meeting. He was trying so hard to conceal the mild sweat he produced from travel. He just recently attended the wake of Verngan city blasts. Total unofficial count of casualties were 562 and counting. Day after day, numerous reports of deaths related to exposure of gas residue from the blast were flooding in. It hasn't been easy to the national government since the global oil dry-out.
"Glad you have safely made your way here, ladies and gentlemen. I appreciate your presence here in this urgent matter. We're running out of time so let's skip the formalities and discuss the mitigation of this crisis head-on." said the president who didn't allocate a second to take a breath in between his sentences. The representatives opened their file binders and clipboards immediately while the presidential security group hasn't finished lock down in the area, but they managed it anyway.
The room's composed of just a long conference table with microphones arched and lit red but the room was spacious enough to hold an elevated platform that you can call a stage with a humble podium. The light's dimmed to the center of the table and laptops plugged to the projector were all set.
In the dim lit room, emerged a silhouette of a female body rising up from the chair and headed to the elevated platform "Good morning, Mr. President and respective representatives present. My name is Dr. Jenny Lyn Dimayuga. I'm the lead chemist involved in studying and analyzing the drug locally-termed "Uberflak". First time in a conference like this I guess. Thought the president. But she managed to carry herself professionally as if she were proctoring medical college students.
With a mild stutter in her voice she said, " Without further a do, I would like to inform everyone in this room about the update of our study. The drug is highly contagious. We weren't very successful in running the tests accurately due to low resources and supplies. Of course, our clinics were also affected by the global dry-out of oil. Most of our hydrocarbon chemicals were depleted. Alcohol and latex gloves, some of the most important hydrocarbon-based tools were scarce." She deftly turned into the white screen behind her, thumbed in the remote control and the slides began to play. Almost the same picture printed on the paper she had shown to Ghenes earlier, graphs and figures. She had explained it exemplary to the way she had explained it to Ghenes.
"Uhm.. Excuse me, Doctor. Allow me to interrupt." A middle-aged man raised his hand and had a confusion drawn on his face. Military uniform. A high-ranking officer, maybe. Thought the doctor.
"So you're saying, that the gas emitted from the blast turns the exposed civilians into zombies?" A question of the confused or a mockery to the credibility. The doctor was challenged.
"Mr. Madrigal," She addressed the man while reading the nameplate of his uniform.
"Col.Madrigal." Corrected the officer. The crowd switched their attention back and forth on the two.
"Apologies, Colonel. Yes, there may be behavioral and physiological similarities of the exposed victims and the fictional zombies. But there's a more legit and scientific explanation to why such behavior occurs." She thumbed in some more and slides after slides reveal the chemical structure of the drug, its effects on the nervous and cardiopulmonary system, the cases of the victims and lethality.
Not all understood the figures and the medical jargon presented by the doctor. As expected, she wasn't good at explaining it at layman's terms. But everybody knew the severity of this drug outbreak, and the doctor managed to bring a bigger picture to the table with regards to the nature of the drug.
"Thank you, Doctor. For throwing in some light about this matter." The doctor was relieved realizing that none has any more questions. She returned to her seat.
"I'm Field Agent Deymos from Panissia Drug Enforcement Agency. I used to work in the NBI for 3 years before switching to this agency." He paused a while to take a sip from the bottled water on the podium. He reached for a flash drive from his pocket and inserted it into the laptop. Just a few more technical adjustments and rummaging through the file. A new slide show presentation was set.
"We have been tracking several suspects of the Verngan mall bombing including the much recent blasts at a gas station just 4 blocks away from the mall." He clicked some more and pictures scattered all over the screen with short info written in blocks. Most of them looked like they're on their 20s.
"At first the leads seemed to be coming from the terrorist groups confronted by the government from the South. But much recently, the video footage copies from different establishments tracked on the presence of these young men in all of the blast sites prior to explosion." The representatives took time to examine the faces of the suspects and their basic info. Some put on their glasses to get a clearer view. Some grabbed a pen to take some notes.
"These suspects do not belong to any recognized terrorist groups locally nor abroad. But we picked up intel from assets that they were involved in black market trade, particularly narcotics. The drug trade linked mostly to an underground syndicate called "Yellow Dove". For months we've been monitoring the Yellow Dove drug smuggling activities, we haven't carried out any drug bust nor raid, in order for us to find out the masterminds." The representatives including the president focused hardly with any blink only pausing to drink water in front of them.
"Any luck finding the possible mastermind?" President asked.
"Well. Mr. President there is one 'Boss Tan'." replied the agent but something seemed incomplete.
"Ohh.. So we can lock him up anytime now, right?" asked the president again.
"That's a negative, sir. We had no luck in having his facial ID, voice recognition nor thumb print patterns. But he's very famous in the narcotic world. Vicious. Reputable figures from the black market can barely even get near him. Our assets never had the luck either, as of now." Deymos clicked on the next slide and a sketch zoomed in. A grotesque-looking mask. A traditional demon-mask.
"Here's a sketch derived from descriptions from the word around the black market."
"So this Boss Tan is a phantom drug lord?"
"Yes, sir."
"And what's his connection to the bombing incident?" Colonel asked. Trying to bring back the attention to the bombing-related matters.
"We believe that the 'Uberflak' narcotics were smuggled through our country by their syndicate network. Our leads point to as far as Mangsia."
"The same country that we have territorial disputes with." Colonel pointed out with a sigh while leaning back to his chair with crossed arms. He's beginning to trace the hints. "I guess Mangsia is the devil's den."
"The suspects weren't related to any terrorist watch list. They're believed to be of a separate group of gang called 'Rocodiles'. These kids caught on video footage from the blast sites were linked to drug trades, so we assume they were hired by Boss Tan to plant the drug-infused bombs all over the city."
"Rocodiles?" Colonel smirked with a sign of a mockery. What a funny or somewhat cute name for a notorious group. Amateur kids. The first image that appeared in the colonel's mind when he heard the name was Barney the Dinosaur, even though he was a dinosaur and not a crocodile. Just a cute group of reptiles.
"Named after Jaime Roco, the head of the group, 24 years old. Young, Wild and Free as the famous line describes.Young for an age of 24, wild for being suspect of numerous cases of arson on several military camps prior this specific attack. And free for being mysteriously released from prison."
"Mysteriously?"
"Well. Colonel. Some people behind the case were reportedly bribed. There were also syndicate members INSIDE the government, specially in police and military. The NBI department were having troubles to weed out the case due to the number of the people involved. Thus, we're not only battling these syndicates, but we're also battling our own government. This Roco is a no-easy kid."
"That's just great news if we're on a mission to serve, motherland Panissia. UNITED WE STAND." President's dismayed comment as he too took a sip on his bottled water.
Field Agent finished off his last slide of presentation, closed his folder and unplugged his flash drive.
The colonel fixes his uniform as he waited for the agent to return to his seat.
"Well. I guess, it's my turn in show and tell." Colonel then commenced his own slideshow.
"I believe it should be General Comahig and Admiral Satur doing the honor of informing you of the current situation. Unfortunately, the tensions of this crisis required the most senior of the command be at their respective and critical posts. I was sent instead on their behalf. Nevertheless, I will lay the information out to you as clear as I can."
"Mangsics refused the bilateral negotiation offered by our DFA secretary and sent 3 naval destroyers instead in the group of islands. A clear act of aggressiveness. The CNO ordered in return deployment of 6 classified destroyer and 2 battleships in Liwanag Island with ,of course, the permission of the commander in chief. Amanikable Concrete Battleship is currently under rehab by BOUSYS Tech. Corp."
"Battleships? Destroyers?" Shocked but somewhat amazed Police Director Gen.Maglangit asked. "Where did those stuff came from?"
"It was a classified deal made by Mr. President with a humble heavy shipbuilding firm. The same firm supplying our soldiers with firearms."
"You mean, BOUSYS Tech Corporation? Pagharian?"
"Roger that, sir."
"It was necessary. We can't solely rely on diplomatic strategies while the enemy are dredging our islands with our own soil, escorted by military vessels. It's better to be a warrior in a garden, than a gardener in the middle of a war." President satisfied the challenging questions about to stir up with an old quote.
"More classified warships are being constructed but I don't have the authority to disclose further details. Now that we're aware that we have enemies right in our own government." Colonel dropped his folder on the table, and leaned forward.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the global oil-dryout and this drug menace is has just joined the arena of our problems."
"Could it be possible, that the Mangsic government backed this 'Boss Tan' to wreak havoc in this place as another strategy to deter our country?" asked the President after realizing the matching patterns of conspiracy.
"Yes, Mr. President. That's what we have in mind. The islands were internationally surveyed to be rich in Deuterium deposits, a hydrogen isotope, that can be used as an alternative to oil for fuel. Mangsia desperately needs this considering the demands of their exploding population. They took advantage of our own government campaign of war against drugs, and possibly slipped this in a form of syndicated attack. Mangsics wouldn't openly want to take the first shot to signify the go signal of a war. "
"Hmm.. You're absolutely, right. Colonel." pondered the president.
Colonel took his laser pointer and clicked on the next slide to view the map.
"As of now,CNO informed that we have warships deployed in strategic locations around the disputed islands. We have sent Marines on vulnerable coasts nearest to Liwanag and infantry battalions to supplement the police force in keeping order as panic and riot erupts. I cannot disclose to you the maneuvers, type of warships/infantry vehicles,locations and their number until we find out the moles that could be lurking in this room. I can only report to the Commander-in-Chief. I am positive that you guys understand why."
"Thank you, Colonel. Let's hear from Police Director Gen. Maglangit."
------------
"Does anyone have a first aid kit?"
The saleslady rushed in the shop's stock room. Taking short quick steps limited by her fit skirt and click-clacking high heels.
She rummaged in the first aid cupboard, grabbed a pack of cotton balls, some alcohol swabs, alcohol bottle, eye pad bandage and some plaster strips.
"Thanks."
The saleslady held it away.
"No, sir. You're not going to clean it with your dirty hands. You might get an infection. I'll do it."
"I'd rather die of bacterial infection rather than get savagely munched on by those loonies." Keram stared at the gate. The saleslady knelt on the floor and started unpacking the cotton balls. She squirted some alcohol to dampen it and wiped the mixed sweat, dust and blood off Keram's cheeks.
She dampened new cotton balls again and this time wiped the blood off Keram's cut.
Keram growled slowly but held it in. God damn it. Slowly. This is worse than getting bitten by 40 fire ants.
"Do you have a name?" asked Keram. She didn't reply and continued with cleaning his cheek.
"Well, with that silence of yours, I assume I know the reason why this shop isn't selling much as I expect, Ms. Payumo." He said while reading off her surname from her clipped ID nameplate.
God damn, He's annoying. Shut up.
Keram sighed. "Okay. Fi-."
"Lara."
Keram stared back at her.
"Lara Payumo. Now would you please sit still? If you bleed, I'm not going to clean that again for you. "
She placed everything back on a tray, and stood to head back inside.
"Lara." She turned around.
"Thanks." :)
She went back in the stock room.
Keram and guard stared at each other. Keram just shrugged.
"What do we do now?" asked the guard.
They all were silent for a moment. Yeah. What do we do now? Sure, we can just walk out this shop with a few firearms, and defend ourselves with those loonies. But that really isn't a brilliant idea for that is an act of theft. Shooting and killing them would be homicide EVEN IF WE'RE DEFENDING OURSELVES. Physical injury if you weren't able to kill them, and if you miss your target, Destruction of property, worse, Arson. Damn, I'm overthinking again. I don't wanna go to prison. Scraping off shit from shit bowls, nah.
But I surely don't wanna get killed from these hideous people. Where the hell is the emergency response team or rescue unit when you need them?
"Hey. Smart kid. Anything?" Ohh, yes, speaking of emergency. I can use something.
"Well. I need a fire axe."
"Wait. What??? What for?"
"Well. I don't want these ladies to get in trouble losing their jobs because they lost some items. But we also need something to cut through or at least defend ourselves."
What a stupid idea. I know. But these aren't my guns, so yeah. Fire axe can be used in times of emergency. No one will file charge of theft against me for a damn fire axe and I won't need it anyway when I leave this mall. Clean slate.
"Well. Is there a fire axe nearby?"
"There is one by the stairs." said the guard.
Keram remembered. Ohh, yeah. I've been there yesterday. Why haven't I noticed?
"You can find a firebox by the stairs, there's an axe in it."
"A'right." First I need to fend off these loonies. Damn, they remind of the zombies in my video game.
Keram moved closer to the gate with caution. Looking around the corner for an idea.
The glass balcony from a coffee shop in the second floor collapsed creating a loud rumbling cloud. Keram can barely see from inside the shop, but he knew it came from the coffee shop at the second floor. He saw the coffee shop signboard crumbled with it. A few loonies at the gate ran down the stairs. Probably going after the rubble slide.
"Hmm.... Noise. They attack noise."
Keram studied the faces at the gate. They seem lifeless, or thoughtless of what they're doing. But they're very active. They can see Keram, but probably aren't conscious enough to understand what they're doing or what he's doing.
"Lara!" shouted Keram.
The loonies growled even louder and banging at the gates.
"I've got an idea. I need your bottle of alcohol."
"But I've cleaned your wound."
"Not my wound. I'm going to do something."
"As you wish, sir."
"Chief, give me a hand here."
Keram started unbolting the glass from the display.
"I thought you don't need guns."
"I need the glass." and the guard helped him.
"I need three. I will need anything that makes noise."
"Will these do?" The second saleslady handed an empty glass bottle.
"Perfect, Ms.Banaag?"
" Just call me, Dana."
Keram poured all of the alcohol into the glass bottle. Torn off some cloth from his ruined shirt as a wick, and all of them knew what's his plan.
"But how are we going to toss it outside? The gate's blocked. We have no other means of exit." Asked Dana. She's right. Good brain. I'm glad she's not shy anymore.
"Hmm... " Keram stared back at the seemingly tired and hungry loonies from the shutter.
"I can distract them. Slightly open the shutters, then slip through the bottle."
I'm glad the guard is quick enough to pick up that I'm making a molotov. If I can make it work, then we might have a chance.
Guard cautiously took few steps closer to the shutters. Staring at the people who used to be people. Sane ones, of course. Now they're just like hungry animals. Desperate. Like if they know such word. Bitting the holes of the shutters till their gums bleed. Clinging and rattling on the small handle.
The guard shouted from beneath his lungs and all eyes were on him. He shouted and shouted. Growls roared among the crowd. Rattling the shutters even stronger. The bolts on the corners were weakening. As the guard kept them distracted, Keram slowly opened the shutter a few inches wide. Then a foot wide. Not squeaking it from any friction. Good lubrication. He perspired like he's about to defuse a bomb that could blow up on his face anytime.
He lit the wick of the bottle and with all of his strength he rolled it through. A couple of loonies were startled and rushed down. He pulled down the shutter but one manage to slip an arm and grabbed his leg. The bottle smashed against a balcony fence and lit up the entire wooden bench adjacent to it. The loonies ran and stampeded into the fire. Some got caught up into the flames screaming in agony. Throwing themselves down into a flight of stairs. Others just trembled on the floor swallowed by the fire.
"NOW CHIEF!" shouted Keram.
Guard opened the shutters and as soon Keram was able to dive and slide through the shutters, the guard shut it back. Keram ran down the stairs. Firebox was there. Kicked it. Damn. That was tough. Not this time, you fucker. Don't get me killed. Kicked again. Still intact. What a fucking kind of an emergency equipment is this?
He took a few steps back to gain momentum, and thrust through with his elbow and rammed himself into the glass box.
"Ughh.. I said, NOT AGAIN." he squinted as a tiny shard scratched his cheek. Firebox was broken. He now better ran for his ass back down for the loonies heard the box shattered.
He