Turn To Dust
by Rey Carlos “The Black Rose” Rosales
Genre: Adventure
Archetype Cards: The Tomboy and The Christ Figure
Key Words: Old photograph, dragon, wings, fan, blood, sacrifice
TURN TO DUST
An oil rig somewhere in the South China Sea
31 December 2027
2017H
Captain Rezz fired the last shot, killing a bleeding terrorist whose hand was a couple of inches away from a pistol. The distinct sounds of a reloading could be heard immediately after.
“You denied him the right to die by his own hand, Captain,” a female team member, Isabella Delos Santos, said, laughing.
“You said what, Fifth Rank?” I asked. Being an armed forces group composed of less than a hundred, our group, the Legion of the Free Majarlikans, could not adopt the normal military ranking system and had to make their own ranking system loosely based on convention. Her rank is the Legion’s second lowest.
“All clear! We are proceeding to the next room,” Captain Rezz announced as he moved to the right of the metal door in front of us.
“I was obviously joking, Salvador,” said the woman. She moved to the left of the metal door.
“Unlocking room,” I declared when I had placed a square hacking device above the security keypad of the metal door. It beeped to confirm that it had hacked the electronic lock, but there was a problem: the door was opening at a snail’s pace.
“A last attempt to delay us? This must be the most pathetic defense system I have ever seen,” I commented.
“I agree, Salvador,” said the Captain.
“We can try pulling that door if you want to feel better,” Fifth Rank Isabella said. The Captain and I said nothing as we waited for the door to open wide enough for us to enter. When the opportunity presented itself, we moved in. As I was the first in the room, I made my way to the rear and scanned the last three rows of computers. Fifth Rank Isabella scanned the middle rows, while Captain Rezz scanned the two front rows.
“Clear,” the Captain said.
“Clear,” I declared.
“Clear,” Isabella said.
We gathered around a computer labeled in Mandarin as ‘Central Computer.’ Like the others in the room, it was composed of several LED-lit keys and a CRT monitor. It had been left switched on. I pulled out the code, which I had written on a torn bit of newspaper, from a front breast pocket. I then took a deep breath, and as soon as I exhaled, began punching the code into the system. I took time typing; the input of even one incorrect character would cause the nukes to launch from the British sub, regardless of the remaining time in the countdown.
But instead of seeing a splash image confirming that we had successfully canceled the missile launch sequence, something else happened. The countdown timer continued and minimized to the bottom left of the screen to make way for a video of a wrinkled, old man who looked to be seventy.
Feeling that he might be Miguel Tadeo Alonzo, our target, I pulled out the old photograph from another front breast pocket and put it beside the monitor for comparison. There were features of his that never changed, and so I turned to the Captain and said: “It’s him.” The Captain nodded and motioned for me to move away from the monitor.
“I see that you still believe in my fellowmen. Even with their penchant for self-service and self-destruction. Even with the massive corruption on all levels of the population. Even with the prevailing culture of slavery, blame games, and mendicancy. You must have been fed lies. That there is hope for them to change. That turning them human scum to dust will not solve anything. But you couldn’t be further from the truth—“
The Captain motioned for Isabella and me to move away from the Central Computer, and when we were a considerable distance away, he smashed the monitor with the butt of his rifle.
“We’ve been had!” he said. “But at least we know what this terrorist looks like now. “Isabella, have you taken a picture of his face?”
Isabella tapped the scope on her helmet and said: “It’s here.”
“Good,” said the Captain. “Finally, we no longer have to rely on that old picture.”
“What do we do now, Captain?”
“Let’s talk about that outside,” he replied. “I need a breather.”
The ocean breeze could not calm me down. The nukes have launched, and with no available information on the flight and re-entry speeds of such weapons anywhere in the world, no surefire solution could be formulated. Standing on a staircase landing, Captain Rezz announced over the radio that he had no choice but to use his dragon form and hand over his position to me.
“I hate to be that guy, but: are those people really worth dying for? Will your sacrifice not be in vain, considering the kind of people they are?” I asked.
“Death?” Isabella asked.
“The terrorist’s words got to your head now, Salvador?” the Captain said.
“No. I just think you’re going way too far,” I replied.
“You have been with the Legion for six—seven—years, but still you are unable to think strategically and tactically?” Captain Rezz commented. “Look, I don’t give a f*** what kind of people they are. That’s not important in this mission. See, if even one missile hits RP, the whole of Asia will become a radioactive zone, and God help us all if that happens.”
There was silence.
“I think I know how exactly you are feeling, but you better believe me when I say this is necessary,” the Captain said. “If only the world’s governments declassified the information on nukes, we would know what we really should do. But no. Even then, we need to ACT. We need to try, or we’ll spend forever asking ourselves ‘what if.’”
“WAIT!” I exclaimed. “Can you trust no one else to your position? It’s obvious I am not ready for this. And… I will be missing you, sir.”
“I hate to sound mushy, but I will be missing you as well, and it’s only been a month since I joined you,” Isabella said. “Of course if what I’m picking up is correct… that what you will do will kill you.”
“REMEMBER, YOUNG ONES: We fight, and so casualties should be expected. My most trusted men are dead: Zero Brown, Alvarez, and Anthrax. They died for our cause, and, as per our oath, I am expected to do the same if it advances us as an independent armed forces,” said the Captain. “Yes, Isabella, I will die once I deactivate my dragon form.”
She saluted and said: “Good luck, Captain.”
“What if I screw up? What if causes the death of everyone in the Legion?” I asked.
“Do you want that to happen?” the Captain answered.
“No, sir. I will do what I can to get better at this,” I answered.
“There’s your guarantee that you will not screw up as Legion Captain,” Captain Rezz said, chuckling.
“Command to Captain Rezz: Please be advised that four destroyer warships flying the terrorist flag have been spotted over the Sulu Sea,” someone from the base reported. “I repeat: four destroyer warships flying the terrorist flag have been spotted over the Sulu Sea.”
“Wait! There’s another one! Philippine rebels allied with the terrorists have infiltrated the Presidential Palace and are holding the Philippine president hostage!” the intelligence officer said. “What are your orders, sir?”
“The nukes AND the people will be given priority!” he said. “I am executing order Oscar-Sierra-Alpha-Eight-Three-Two. I say again, I am executing order Oscar-Sierra-Alpha-Eight-Three-Two. Fifth Rank Cris Salvador will be your new Captain. It has been a pleasure serving with you, over.”
“Likewise, Captain Rezz,” the High Commander’s voice crackled over the frequency. “You will be remembered forever, out.”
Captain Rezz pulled out his combat knife and ordered us to back away. Then he stabbed himself in the belly. Blood burst out, and he fell and hit the metal floor below. His body had started increasing in size by that point.
He crawled a few inches.
Claws appeared.
Black wings sprouted and shredded his body armor.
A thick, black tail grew from his lower back section, further damaging his combat armor.
His body, now covered in scales, continued increasing in size until Dragon Rezz was about twenty feet in length.
When no trace of his human form could be found on him, he flapped his wings twice and roared. His majestic form made the hairs on my arms and neck stand up.
“Isabella,” Dragon Rezz growled. “Fly Captain Salvador to the Sulu Sea. You should fight them together. Deliver a devastating blow to the terrorists!”
“Yes sir!” she shouted.
Sulu Sea Airspace
31 December 2027
2100H
“Unbelievable. This is just next-level savagery,” I said, looking at the black-and-white live night vision feed of the destroyer warships below. We sighted them just as they started bombarding tugboats and fishing boats with artillery fire, and we recorded their hostile actions since the aircraft was not expected to be in combat until I said so. It was invisible; Isabella had activated its cloaking device before we even took off from the oil rig.
“As expected of a terrorist of his level, Captain. He does not want his victims to even try escaping. I think he wants absolute destruction of the people of his country of origin,” Isabella, who operates this two-person hybrid aircraft using metal strings that she attaches to her fingers, said. “What’s the plan?”
I turned to her. “I want their ships completely destroyed,” I began. “I will drop on the top of Orchestra, the submarine, so open the hatch when I say so. Proceed to rain missiles at the destroyer guns to render them useless ONCE I MAKE THE DROP. I’ll finish the ships off personally. Is everything understood?”
“Yes, Captain,” she said, then pulled the strings connected to her fingertips in a certain way to turn her two-seater flying machine. Orchestra, a war submarine, was a tiny blue blip near the middle of the radar at that moment. “Should I open the hatch?”
“Open the hatch now.”
I pulled the metal fan that had been on my back since the start of the mission. I ran a hand from end to end as I whispered, “Hell will be raised for Captain Rezz.”
“Uh oh. INCOMING ROCKET!”
“THEY SAW THROUGH THE CLOAKING DEVICE?!”
To be continued.
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About Rey Carlos “Eisenröz” Rosales
Eisenröz currently works as an office-based Web Content Writer. His love-hate relationship with writing started after realizing he could never draw beyond stick figures. He looks forward to finishing the story of Cris Salvador the soonest he could so he can concentrate with the corporate lifestyle.