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[color=darkblue]
[i]Zylics lay in the flames, trapped by the intense heat. He was barely concious and with no energy left within himself. He stared at the flames, and the tank in shambles. He wanted to give up, he knew that he had no chance against those beasts.

He stood up, his arms wavering and his back bent. The blood and sweat poured down his singed and gruffy face, his hair filled with dust. He found an opening in the fire, but the area was quickly consumed, the flames licking his face. He figured he could jump, sacrificing his legs, but he was too much of a coward.

However, there was no other way. He searched for a breach in the fire, but there was none and he was too weak to search around. He jumped, rolling through the fire and thensome. He stood up, running through the dessert, away from the military base, he hoped.

He lost all power, collapsing to the ground. A pair of arms was seen picking him up.[/i]
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[I]Raynor watched the chase from the hanger entrance, before shaking his head in disbelief.[/I]

[B]Raynor:[/B] "The things those Allies try and do."

[I]Several conscipts nearby nodded, before narrowing their eyes once fully seeing Raynor. Despite the mind control devices making him think he was a Soviet, he was still dressed in the American GI like combat vest. Strange of him, but Raynor Durane liked having the extra protection, compared to the hardly armored conscript suits. As the Tank Commander said, it was one of the few things the Allies actually did right.[/I]

[I]Shaking his head, he moved back to the Apocalypse Tank surrounded by his crew... One, the anti aircraft gunner, was a mind controlled ally, like himself. But he was one of the few... All the others, heck, pretty much all the other tank crews at the base consisted of Soviets.[/I]

[B]Raynor:[/B] "Okay, that little incursion is over. Get to your stations and let's get this thing ready."

[I]Stepping in with the rest of the crew, Raynor took up a position behind the main gunner and pilot, sitting down on a hard, yet comfy seat, a small amount of low grade monitors at his side. It was from here he'd coordinate this tank, and from here he'd get messages from Soviet Command...[/I]
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[I]Driving through a field of dismantled Tanks and shrapnel. This was no-man's land. The space between Soviet and Allied defences. A field of death. Christov and Arano cruised through it slowly, solemnly, respecting the memories of all the soldiers they must have lost here. It was a sad thought that so many had died only feet outside of the gates.

Once the Brothers entered the base, they saw Colonel Hernandez, Lieutenant Vaceslav and another man standing upon a High balcony, addressing the Infantry battallion. Behind them, Tanks were rolling outwards. It was time.

Flash and Blank quickly walked into the Hangar. Tanks were pouring out the main doors. They entered the secondary hangar, and boarded the Catastrophe. There were a few people onboard the MCC already, at the Navigational controls, Radar, ecetera. Fortunately for the Generals, most of them were female. All the male crew had been transferred to piloting Tanks on the front line, due to a shortage of drivers. Arano looked to the sky, and mouthed 'Thank you.' Flash smiled and quickly found the two Captain's chairs.

The brothers took their positions, and the MCC began to move. On the main screen, Colonel Hernandez popped into view. He saluted the Generals.[/I]

[b]Hernandez:[/b] We have a squadron of Five Apocalypse Tanks to accompany you, Sir. They are some of the best in the squadron.

[I]Another screen lit up, next to the main screen. It was divided into ten smaller screens. Along the top row, each tank could be seen. On the second row, the pilots faces. Two were Sergeants, Two were Corporals, and one was different. He had three stripes, making him a Sergeant, but his stripes were Hollow gold with a back inner. This meant that he was no less than a Mind-Controlled Ally. Arano scowled.[/I]

[b]Blank:[/b] You're putting an Ally in our escourt?

[b]Flash:[/b] Don't worry about it. Besides, the nearer he's with me, the better. If our Psychic beacon fails, I can easily step in.

[b]Blank:[/b] Alright. I suppose you do know what you're talking about.

[b]Flash:[/b] Heh heh. Care to join me outside?

[b]Blank:[/b] Of course, Comrade.

[I]They both stood, leaving the bridg, heading down a short corridoor and up a ladder, to the foward deck bunker. Upon reaching it, they found a pair of female gunners, relaxing before they reached the front line. They quickly clambered to their feet, saluting and standing attention. Flash smiled and nodded. He and his brother climbed up another ladder, reaching the roof of the MCC. There was a Deck, and a catwalk that stretched the whole way down, across to the port and starboard bunkers, and the rear deck. Arano pulled out a Cigarette, and lit up. Flash did the same thing, in perfect sync with his Brother. They turned to face the United States. Ahead of them, they could hear explosions and gunfire.

The battlefield awaits.[/I]
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[i]Cids plane touched down in a clearing no less than 30 meters from the edge of the forest bordering the soviet camp. The harriers engines powered down, as Cid stepped down from the cockpit and stretched his arms.[/i]

[b]Cid:[/b] Arrrgg... I need to get warmed up.

[i]Cid took of his jacket, and neatly placed it next to a tree. He then Began to run at a group of birds pecking grain out of the grass. The birds, as any animal would be, were well aware of Cids presence, and ready to escape should he pose any danger. As Cid came closer to the birds, running at quite a considerable pace now, the birds decided to leave the grain, and spare their lives, just as the began to flap there wings, Cid flashed and shot foward arriving allmost instantly infront of the birds.[/i]

[b]Cid:[/b] Boo...

[i]The Birds furiosly flapped their wings, and scutteled to saftey as Cid walked back to collect his jacket. He took his jacket, and turned to face the soviet base, walking slowely through the forest, and cathing glimpses of Tesla coils above the tree line.

The russian solider in the tesla coil saw a strange man apparoching them. He zoomed in with a survalance camera and took a closer look at him face, as a commander peered over his shoulder.[/i]

[b]Soldier:[/b] Ahh.. Sir what should i do, it's...
[b]Commander:[/b] Fire a 75% burst.
[b]Soilder:[/b]But sir that's
[b]Commander:[/b] I know who it is... Just do it...
[b]Soilder[/b] Ok... Charging...

[i]Cid heard the sound of the tesla coil charging before the the tesla coil could hear itself. He knew he had only a few seconds, but he stopped and waited. As the bolts of electricity reached the top of the coil a huge lightning beam shot to the spot where the solider swore Cid was standing only a split second ago. But Cid had left long ago, he was allready waiting behind a small mound of dirt, a flame tower to his right, manned, turned, but did not fire. Instead turning back and continuing to patrol the area. Cid stood up, and walked towards the bunker doors, leading to the Bio-Organic gas labs.[/i]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]While she waited, she slowly ran the brush through her hair...twisting out the thick strands. When she was finished, she twisted it up and secured it behind her head with a leather strip....then she pulled on her laced pants and shirt. This would require clothing...unlike her other fights. Then she silently slipped on her silver chained belt...and adjusted the hilt of her blades.[/i]

---: Open up.

Lethe: Who's there?

---: A dear old friend of yours....Lethe.

[i]The named woman rose to her feet and opened the door from the side....keeping out of sight. Sure enough, it was Adrien. In the flesh... He automatically turned around and brought his 9mm to her forehead. She stopped short. And glared back....[/i]

Lethe: I see your people skills haven't improved much.

Adrien: Strip.[/COLOR]
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[color=indigo][i]Ripper stood silently behind the rock with the rifle slung over his back and the Dostovei now in hand. It seemed from what he could hear, that the Soviets were moving away. He snuck around the far edge of the stone structure, slowly peering around its edge. Yes. The tank was rolling away, and the soldiers with it. Suddenly, and arm swung around the rock, Dostovei in hand smashing the butt into Ripper's forehead. Ripper fell back to the ground, blood flowing slowly from his head. He quickly snapped his Dostovei forward and shot the soldier as it came around the edge. Surely now, he has alerted the others. A thunderous boom rolled through the air as an explosion erupted on the opposite side or the stone structure. Debris erupted over the top, fortunately, all missing him. Ripper scrambled up and darted off in to the woods hoping to gain some distance quickly.[/i]
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Sorry about it shortness and such. Massive writer's block...[/color]
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[COLOr=royalblue][i]Bile rose in her throat......this was the last thing she had expected from him. So maybe she should've seen it coming. She hissed through her teeth and spat to one side. The pressure increased, and he brought his face inches from hers.....[/i]

Adrien: Do it or else.

Lethe: I pick "or else."

[i]He reached to one side, and backhanded her across the face. Her lip broke and blood dripped onto the floor. She caught her breath in her throat and looked up at him. Then she looked down again, a red blush stealing across her face, and complied.

First her shirt, then her belt and weapons, then her pants....she stopped. Then gun pressed against her temple again.[/i]

Adrien: .....keep going.[/COLOR]
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[color=darkblue]
[i]The rumble of the tanks tearing through the dessert was tremendous. Zylics awoke in a cave not far from where the chase had happened.

There was a fire in the corner. Zylics wearily got up to investigate. It was barely started, the wood still not singed.

A man came out from the shadows, startling Zylics, preparing him to fight.[/i]

[b]--:[/b] Don't worry, it's just me.

[b]Zylics:[/b] From the prison. How'd you escape?

[b]--:[/b] There's no need to worry about that right now. What you do need to think about are the oncoming tanks that are about to help in the siege of America.

[b]Zylics:[/b] Damnit, so they did start it!

[b]--:[/b] I watched the whole time as you tried to escape in that Apocalypse Tank. You were very good, and you helped weaken their forces, however minimal the damage was. Those Apocalypse Tanks are not easily built.

[b]Zylics:[/b] It's still not enough, the siege has begun and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

[i]Zylics stood up and started to walk away, stopping briefly.[/i]

[b]Zylics:[/b] There really is nothing we can do, is there?

[b]--:[/b] I'm afraid not. . .

[i]Zylics sat down again, sulking against the wall of the dark and dusty cave.

They stayed like this for a good while, silent, listening to the tanks roar by. A rainstorm had started in the desert, it was surprising that the sky hadn't turned red or something phenomenal like that hadn't happened.

What the people in America must have been thinking, the horror they would be soon going through. Mostly just Texas today, though.

America would build up their forces, keeping great security around the White House and the President himself, wherever he may be located.

The Soviets had really won. Zylics wasn't able to take it like that though. There was always a sign of hope. . .until now.

Zylics started to walk out again. The rain was pouring down his face. He ran down the slope of the hill where the cave was, the man who had saved Zylics calling after him.[/i]

[b]--:[/b] Be careful! It's not safe now, you'll surely die!

[b]Zylics:[/b] Thanks for all of the help!

[i]Zylics tore off into the desert once more.[/i]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]The guy pressed close again, hard metal against her temperal bone......painful, but not painful enough to make her submit. She gritted her teeth and gave him a dangerous look.

She heard a click...then stepped back, and looked at the ground.[/i]

Adrien: ....do it now.

Lethe: ......damn you to hell.

Adrien: Too late.

[i]Eyes stinging with hot tears, she slowly unhooked the clasp on her bra and dropped it to the floor. Then she turned and pulled off her panties, then sat down on the bed, waiting. Adrien smiled darkly.[/i][/COLOR]
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[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]The bastards had finally quit. Since destroying, or perhaps redestroying, the convoy, Lacroix couldn't remember what he'd done, only that a lot of people had died, and a lot were very angry at him, he'd been stalked incessantly. He now had no idea where he was, not that he did in the first place, but the number of patrols he'd seen made him certain he was not in a friendly situation. And he was running low on ammo, his katana needed a hell of a lot of nicks polished out of it, and he was almost too sore to walk, much less fight.

Taking stock of his surroundings, he was about 50 metres away from a small creek. Hobbling over, he drank his fill, hoping the water was potable. He looked around, trying to work out where he could be. He found no familar landscapes. But then, he'd never been good at geography.

A slight sound.... a pause, then the sound, redoubled, tripled in volume, escalating into a huge roar. Instinctively, driven by days of a pure struggle for survival and harsh lessons learnt through it, Lacroix was down, rolling away. Several seconds later, he realised it was the sound of vehicles, lots of vehicles. It was also heading away from him.

He leapt up, and ran towards the source of the sound.

What he saw amazed him. It was some kind of Soviet base. What had to be at least a hundred tanks were rolling out of the main entrance, looking girded for battle. The tanks at the front were what caught his eyes though. Bigger, and faster, than any tank he'd ever seen, he was certain these weapons were also more deadly. They carried a viperish poise with them, lumbering behemoths driven by deadly purpose. They were almost certainly factory made here, and would almost certain give the Allies hell.

Lacroix sat back, wondering what he was to do. Looking around, all concentration was on the departing army. The rest of the base seemed almost unmanned. The few lone guards were not much of a threat. He absently wondered about the wisdom of hiding in a Soviet base. He only spoke English for one thing. Still, a place to rest would be good, as would some supplies.

Without further thoughts, he ran across to the large metal fence, listening intently for shouts of alarm. He heard nothing, but any noise he might have heard would most likely have been eclipsed anyway.

Automatically, drilled into him from long hours of breaking into his home base in what seemed an eternity ago, Lacroix made several small cuts in the wire links and slipped through the small hole. Cleverly positioned, to the casual observor it seemed nothing more than a slight break, certainly not something a human could crawl through. It took agility, and the loss of a little skin, but Lacroix managed it.


Amazingly, he had still not been discovered. Trusting that whatever fate decided it liked him at the moment would not be a capricious minx, he sprinted towards the largest building. Well, he tried to sprint. It ended up being a painful, staggering lope. Lacroix realised just how far gone he was, and what a bad idea this was. Still, what's done was done. To hell with it.

Checking his pistols, he had three shots left. Two in one, a single one in the other. His katana was loose in its sheath, and assorted knives he had picked up were easily accessible. His long Chinese shirt was torn in several places, and in bad need of cleaning, as were his pants, but would serve. The black shirt underneath was stained in blood and sweat, sticking to him, outlining his gaunt, now wiry chest.

The door was unlocked. Lacroix supposed locking it was unneccessary, he doubted anyone, even him, could have broken in here had they not come at the right time.

He burst in, weapons levelled. Nothing but a long corridor, then some stairs.

Ignoring the doors on either side of him, he sprinted up the stairs, finding another door, this one locked. Five seconds with a long metal file, and it wasn't locked anymore. Looking in to a room, these seemed quite luxurious. Probably senior NCOs or officers rooms. There was another set of stairs. This would get interesting.

Heedless of caution now, he ran straight for the stairwell. He was alerted at the last moment by a slight scraping, as a boot on a floor would make. Stopping, paying attention, the breathing was clearly audible. A single guard.

Lacroix leapt, spinning. He landed on his back at the bottom of the stairs, a single bullet taking out the surprised guard. Lacroix ran up to him. He was carrying a rifle, incompatible ammo. Which meant one shot in each gun. He was also not a Soviet, but a member of a reputable merc army. Very interesting. Lacroix was again forced to pick a lock, this one far more challenging. He looked around. No more stairs, it was likely that this was as good as it got. Here, he was less likely to be disturbed than any other place. Without further ado, he burst in through the nearest room, guns levelled.[/font][/color][/I]
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[i]Rhino Tanks fired in a systematical line, from the right to the left, the shells arching into the air. The American scouts were blown to Hell. GIs that were farther off were slowly getting picked off by snipers riding on the heavyily armored shells of the Rhino tanks. They were traveling all in all, around fifteen miles per hour. The Soviets had something to the effects of one hundred or so Conscripts running around, forming a barrier between the Rhinos and the Tesla Tanks on the frontline, and inbetween the Apocalypse tanks. Another line was formed between the Apocalypse tanks and the V3s and the solitary MCC.

Along with the V3s, however, came a sudden surge of Amphibious Transports. Loaded in them, all thirty five of them, were Flak Tracks, as requested by Arano. Ten of Transports stopped briefly to let out four Flak Tracks each, which in turn released five Conscripts or the occasional Flak Trooper. The ten empty Transports scurried off back towards the base, no doubt to pick up the Attack Dogs Christov ordered.

The rest of the transports kept in rank behind the V3s, keeping their cargo incased in titanium. This siege was perfectly put together. Christov's psychic intuition told him where to put what where, and Arano's battlefield brilliance backed that up with pure fighting genius. If the Americans at the Texas line made it past this heaping pile of pure soviet might, it would be by an act of the will of God himself.

The American defence line could be seen ahead, along with explosions. Rhino tanks could be seen punching holes in lines of sandbags and GIs. The Grizzly tanks deep within the Allied base would make it too late to save their frontline of protection.

Prism Towers charged way too slow to do much damage. The five that were ingeniusly positioned as a pre-attacking system for the base were quickly reduced to smoldering heaps of nothing. Prism Tanks were slowly being produced and released from the Allied War Factory.

The ten or so Rhino tanks punched a hole of fifteen to eighteen meters though the front barrier of the American base. The Grizzly tanks, unfortionatly, were half a match for the Elite Rhino Tanks. Backed into a tight death circle, the Soviet War Machines were quickly over-runned by the sheer amount of Grizzly Tanks, but not without taking out their fair share of enemies.

Arano smiled manically as he saw the action in the distance. Christov had his head tilted thoughtfully, but his mouth was twisted about in a small smirk.[/i]

[b]Flash:[/b] "Well brother, it seems your siege is proving to be successful. But do remember to watch out for those Chronos.. If you don't hit their power plants fast, they might just get the thing working..."

[b]Blank:[/b] "You and I both know they don't have a chance. Why do you think I ordered those?"

[i]Arano pointed skywards with his right index finger without even raising his hand past his chest. Christov looked up, only to smile smuggly. He was wondering when they would arrive. He counted off silently. Twenty. Just as planned. Twenty Kirovs should be enough. Air and ground strikes systematically should proove to whip the literal piss out of the Allies...[/i]
-- -- -- -- --
Can someone get Raiha a date-rape drug..? :p
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[COLOR=royalblue]Go fück yourself Neil.
~~~~~~~~~~~
[i]He set the gun down, but it didn't matter anyways. He was far stronger than her, and her empathic powers wouldn't save her now. The aura he was extuding was one of lust and control....not a good mix. She knew her own had transmuted from her ordinary sea green to one of a pale blue. She was afraid. And rightly so.

The murderer touched her face with one hand, then her broken lip. Then he felt the blood between his fingers...then tasting it. She looked down. Why didn't he just get the damn thing over with already? He brought his face closer to hers.[/i]

Adrien: Don't be afraid Lethe. I'm not going to kill you.

Lethe: You're going to rape me. Right?

[i]He laughed. And she flinched. He had raised his hand, but set it down again on her shoulder. Adrien brought his face inches from hers again and slowly licked her cheek. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing.

This was going to both suck and blow.[/i][/COLOR]
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[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Empty. Well ordered. Uninteresting. Completely sterile. Completely useless. Lacroix lowered his weapons, assessing the room in a quick few glances. It was somewhat smaller than he expected, though opulent. A large bed rested in one corner, looking like the covers had been ironed on. A desk sat next to, stacks of paper that he would swear were of exactly equal height resting on it in even rows. The chair was pushed in to exactly the right position. There was a wardrobe or something on the other wall. The place was spotless. The sheer tidiness of the place made him almost physically sick. It also made him very annoyed. He needed a place to sleep, a place to hide. And if anything was out of place in this room, it would stand out like a beacon. Lacroix ran his eyes over the desk, and found nothing resembling a weapon. He turned to leave. There had to be something in on of these rooms. He tried to recall how many there had been. His faculties were less than up to scratch right now. 5 or 6, he was almost certain. At least one of them had to contain some young hotshot who thought discipline was an annoyance. He left, shutting the door behind him and fully opening the handle. May have seemed paranoid, but he didn't want to take chances.

Lacroix burst into the next room, in similar fashion to the first. It suited his purposes perfectly. There was a very rumpled bed, and a few articles of military issue clothing lying on top of it. A dresser stood beside the bed, draws half open and clothing hanging out. Several doorways led off into smaller sections. Perfect.

Lacroix looked around, searching for something. Sure enough, there was a small bar fridge. A place like this would have it all he suspected. He took out several bottles of expensive wine. He curiously sniffed at one, then set it down. He'd always hated anything alcoholic, it messed with his head too much. He set the wine bottles up against the door in a large stack, and pulled the fridge out of the wall, dragging until it was about a away feet away from the door. It was not heavy enough, or in the right position, to stop the door from opening. But if it was opened, the bottles would fall onto the fridge, giving Lacroix enough time to survive.

He lay down, katana clenched in his hand, the blade completely free of any cloth around it. Immediately, worn from constant exertion, he dropped into a deep sleep.[/font][/color][/I]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She knew this wasn't the first time something had happened to her....but to think it was her employer, and she would most likely die.... She gritted her teeth and endured his touch, then forced herself to remain still. If she moved, he wouldn't hesitate to plant a fist into her mouth. Her whole body was tensed up, waiting for the words she so much dreaded.[/i]

Adrien: Get on your knees.

[i]Damn him. Damn him to the seven hells of Circe. Lethe hissed at him through clenched teeth. Like hell she was going to get on her knees in front of him and give him what he wanted.

He backhanded her once more, and the force of in slammed her across the bed and into the ground. He walked over and picked her up by the throat, then threw her onto the bed again. The crime lord cracked his knuckles easily and brought his far too close to hers.[/i]

Adrien: Do it.

Lethe: .........[/COLOR]
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[I]The Catastrophe rolled Foward, into the heat of battle. American GIs looked on in fear as machine gun fire from the Tank's bunkers ripped through them, painting the battlefield red with the crimson liquid. The Tesla dome glowed a bright electric blue, and shot out a huge bolt of Tesla energy towards an Allied War Factory. The building erupted in an electrical explosion, flames and spurts of lightning flowing from the remains of the building. The Dome fired another shot, wiping out a nearby apartment block. Arano and Christov watched the chaos, smiling. The Catastrophe was armageddon on tracks.[/I]

[B]Blank:[/B] Shall we destroy the Reminents of the base?

[B]Flash:[/B] No, I think we'll set up an outpost here.

[I]Arano smiled, and looked to his right. Several Flak Track APCs pulled up, all deploying Engineers. Holding their toolboxes, they all headed for various Allied buildings, escourted by Conscripts, who took out any Allied soldiers still fortified in the buildings. Soon, the entire base had been overcome by the Soviets. A monitor on the deck lit up in front of the Generals, and an Engineer appeared on-sreen.[/I]

[b]Engineer:[/b] General Christov, General Arano, we have found Allied weapon plans.

[b]Flash:[/b] Excellent.

[b]Engineer:[/b] Soon, we may have the ability to produce Prism weaponary--And maybe even combine it with our Tesla technology.

[b]Blank:[/b] Good, good. Conctact Doctor Vchekon at once.

[b]Engineer:[/b] Yes Commander.

[I]The monitor flicked off, and Christov nodded to his Brother. It was time to move on. They ordered the Engineers at the outpost to construct a mass of Tesla coils to protect them, and to start mass-producing Tanks from the War Factory. This tiny outpost was an invaluable asset. Rhinos and Apocs moved foward, keeping in Flank with the MCC Catastrophe.[/I]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]He shoved her down onto her back, knees forcing her legs apart. Then he bent down and forced himself on her....

Lethe willed herself to relax, and the pain vanished....but his breath on her skin was like a thousand spiders crawling all over her...and his hands on her shoulders bit down hard....blinding her with anger and nausea.

Adrien chuckled. Her spirit was breaking fast. And she would be his.[/i]

Lethe: ...I hate you.

Adrien: Good.

[i]It was over. Finally. She groaned and pushed him away. He held her fast by the wrists with one hand, and wrapped his fingers around her throat with the other. Then he picked up her wounded body and laughed.[/i]

Adrien: You're mine. Say it.

Lethe: Never.

[i]His eyes widened. She still hadn't broken yet. Oh well, he could fix that easily.[/i][/COLOR]
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[i]It was night now, the troops slowing to a hault to make a makeshift camp. Huge black tents were erected, a mess hall was made, and a portable Barracks system was brought forward from the new Soviet base.

The guard dogs Arano requested had been transported in along with an additional twenty Conscripts and fifteen Flak Troopers. The tanks' roaring engines slowed to a harmonious lull of white noise; a gentle hum. The MCC Catastrophe had all of it's stationary Sentry Guns at the ready, and Sentry platforms had been constructed around this 'base'.

Sometime around midnight, Christov was still going over plan schematics of the Prism technology, when he heard whispered conversation on the other side of the large command area. He turned around slowly in his chair, only to see his brother facing a smaller, personal screen, headset in hand.

christov immedietly know who he was talking to and what about. Buisness with a hint of pleasure, that was Arano's game. Christov silently walked over, listening to his brother chat with a very beautiful woman, of whom was dressed in a tight, slick leather outfit with several badges here and there. Brunette hair was only to the back of her neck, and a nice, soothing red lipstick traced the edges of her lips.

Lieutenant Zofia, obviously, was also enjoying her talk with Arano. Talk of the Prism Towers combined with Tesla Coils also contained strong [some obvious] sexual innuendos...

Christov cleared his throat, as Arano and Lt. Zofia stopped laughing to cheerfully acknowledge his presence. Zofia casually saluted the Psychic, but mainly kept her eyes excitedly pinpointed on Arano.[/i]

[b]Blank:[/b] "Ah, brother, Lieutenant Zofia here was just telling me a few minutes earlier that the Satellites are just about ready. The primary tests are done, the prep work is complete, and all that is needed is to gas 'em up, and for you to sign off on them. They are, afterall, your creations."

[i]Christov smiled sadistically, as all of his plans were coming together nicely. He walked over quietly back to his station, and began plotting orbital locations, while Arano got back to his flirting...[/i]
-- -- -- --
Ah-HAH! Touche, writer's block!
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]It was then that he finally made his first mistake. Taking his eyes off her. Lethe put her gymnatstic's flexibility to use and dived for the gun he had set down; her legs twisted to one side while she brushed the ground with one hand. Then she felt the touch of cold metal in her hands and clenched down. She whipped it around, and planted it against Adrien's right eye. He stopped short, mouth half open, hands up. Lethe smiled.[/i]

Lethe: If I wasn't afraid of bloodstains ruining this bed, I might kill you.

Adrien: ...you don't want to do that.

Lethe: Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull this trigger.

Adrien: You won't get paid?

Lethe: I already have another lined up. Get off your feet and get against that wall.

[i]She drew the gun back slightly, and he complied. Keeping both eyes on him, and one on the trigger, she swiftly pulled on her lingere and pants. Then, he made his second, and final mistake. He turned around to try and wrench the gun from her hands. Lethe dodged and fired. Twice. Two slugs took him down. One in the balls, and the other in the face. He hit the back wall, blood pouring from his body. Lethe growled and dropped the gun.

He had paid, and she was happy.[/i]

Lethe: Arigato.[/COLOR]
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[font=gothic][color=crimson][I]Lacroix bolted upright, flipping away from the bed in a sideways arc. His landing, unmarred by a jolted awakening, left him ducking under the bed. Gunshots. Two of them. He resheathed his katana. He felt a hell of a lot better. A quick glance at a watch told him he'd been asleep for quite sometime. Enough to recuperate to the point where he could get out of here and find safer territory.

And obviously, this place was not as uninhabited as he thought. He had been too deep asleep to judge how far anyway the sounds had come from, but they were in the building. That was enough.

He listened intently for a moment. No other sounds. Which could mean a lot of things. Now that he thought about it, extra rest sounded good.

He twisted the be around, the large, oaken headboard now facing the door. It wouldn't stop bullets, but it would make him harder to see at first glance. Soon asleep, Lacroix's katana dug into his leg, as he shifted in nightmare.[/font][/color][/I]
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[COLOR=royalblue][i]She rolled him out of the apartment, and, still angry, slammed the door as loud as she could. Then, Lethe turned and headed for the shower. Life sucked, majorly.

She slamed her fist against the wall, then quickly walked into the shower and snapped the curtain behind her. Then she swiftly turned on the water and scrubbed herself vigorously, trying to get rid of his scent.[/i][/COLOR]
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