The Siege Against Tolkeen

Tucson crawled over to the open door, using one hand to pull himself along, and the other to try to keep his intestines in place. His clothing was covered in blood, both his own and that of the Kittani doctor who had been chained up beside him. The doctor they had shot in the head. Tucson wasn't quite so lucky. The bastards bestowed a lingering death upon him.

"Damn skinheads," he muttered, his gaze fixed on the open door, his mind swimming with pain and confusion. He could hear sirens in the distance, although his ears were still ringing with the harsh barks of the gun. He knew that soon the police would come back, and would either put him on life support to ensure an even slower death, or would put him out of his misery instantly. The elf fancied neither choice. He wanted to die outside, where at least he could breathe fresh air instead of the rank prison odors.

"Almost there," he muttered, pulling himself to the door. "Going to get out."

Suddenly, one of the crimson-suited military police burst in through the open door. "Freeze, scumbag!" he screamed, holding his techno-wizard laser pistol to Tucson's head.

Tucson looked up at the soldier. The man's face was hidden behind a gas mask, his body was hidden behind a jumpsuit of enchanted red cloth. In fact, he reminded the elf a little bit of the grim reaper in a crimson cloak. The elf looked into the man's face, and smiled eerily.

The soldier began convulsing, as the scent of pungent smoke filled the corridor. He dropped his gun, and began flopping around on the floor, screaming wildly. As his gas mask began to melt, his suit began to gradually fade to black. As the flames which burnt his body finally exploded out of the suit, his struggles ceased. Tucson crawled over the burning corpse, in a mad rush to get outside.

"Is the corridor cleared, Delta 4?" squacked the dead man's melting headset. "Come in, Delta 4! Do you read me?"

Tucson finally pulled himself outside. It was night out, and the stars in the sky were burning brightly. The elf smelled the crisp, autumn night air. He then looked around, and was not surprised in the least to see dozens of police cruisers parked al l around the prison, just outside of the rows of barbed wire. An enormous combat helicopter hovered above the prison, its silenced blades making a strange, throbbing noise.

The chopper suddenly began to move towards Tucson. It flew right over him, then turned to face the dying elf and swiveled its massive guns in his direction. Something which looked very much like a chaingun let loose with a burst of mystical hellfire, which wrapped itself around the elf, doing no damage.

Tucson looked up at the chopper wearily. The windows suddenly lit up with a bright red light, and then shattered, as the cockpit exploded. Vomiting gouts of inky black smoke and showering sparks in every direction, the helicopter spiraled into the ground, where it shattered and burnt into a husk.

Red-suited soldiers began to close in from the sides, having slipped past the wire or come out of the prison to neutralize this threat. Tucson realized that he didn't have much strength or time left to him. But, he wanted to take a few more of those bastards out with him.

"Kick a guy out of his home, will you?" grunted Tucson, as a pair of incoming soldiers exploded from the inside. "Toss a guy in jail for having his friend patched up, will you?" sneered Tucson as a nearby police cruiser caught fire. "Try to kill an unarmed, wounded guy, will you?" yelled Tucson, as a sniper's gun melted, covering the sniper's arms with white-hot liquid metal.

Tucson suddenly saw a little metal tube roll to his feet, doubtless tossed there by a soldier hiding in the shadows. "Oh no," sighed the elf, as his short but eventful life flashed before his eyes. "I at least wanted to be buried."

The grenade exploded into a dimensional anomaly. A rift more like a black hole than anything else came into being, enveloping the elf and pulling him into a thousand directions at once, atomizing him and spreading the molecules into a billion different dimensions. When the soldiers arrived on the scene, all that they found was a steaming crater and a round hole in the wall.

"You...what?" growled Perrin, barely able to keep himself from tearing the skinhead's throat out.

"We shot the guys in the cells adjacent to yours," the punk explained, with a hint of pride in his voice. "They were all D-Bee shits, and we didn't want them identifying us. My idea."

"One of those shits saved my life, you asshole!" yelled Perrin. "He got caught by the cops because he was trying to save my life! I oughta break your neck!"

The skinhead leaned over the bed, and sneered at Jack. "Shut your fucking mouth," he growled. "We saved you, and I think we deserve a little respect because of it! Besides, why are you so grateful? The guy was a D-Bee!"

"How in the hell was I supposed to know! I couldn't even see straight!"

"Calm down, Lou," said the man wearing glasses. "Maybe he does have a..."

"I saved this guy from a death sentence, and he's treating me like shit!" interrupted the skinhead. "This guy isn't worth so much trouble! I say we get rid of him!"

"That's for Freedom to decide," said the headhunter by the door. "It's his choice, not yours."

"It's your life that we decide what to do with," snarled Perrin, snatching the skinhead's throat and squeezing the windpipe. Jack clutched in a little bit harder, liking the feel of the neck as it constricted in his hands, liking the expression on t he skinhead's face as he gasped for air. The punk was trying to reach back for his pistols, but a quick squeeze persuaded him not to.

"Now listen," Perrin said, sitting up so that he was right in his victim's face. "I'm going to let you go now. But from now on I will ask that you behave in a dignified manner. And if you don't, then I will snap your fucking neck in half. Got that?" And Jack let go.

The skinhead immediately began gasping for air. Once his lungs were again filled with oxygen and his head had stopped spinning, he sneered down at Jack. "You bastard!" he screamed, reaching for a gun. "I've had enough of your disrespect!"

As the skinhead pressed down on the trigger, a vibro-knife shot across the room from the now-open door, knocking the pistol from the punk's hand. The gun shattered, and the knife imbedded in the wall behind. Rick Freedom walked in through the open doorway, his M.O.M. implants twitching violently.

"What were you doing, Louis?" he barked, pulling his knife out from the wall and turning it off. "It looked to me like you were about to kill our new leader. Were you going to shoot the man who is going to save humanity?"

"Sir, it was just an argument between Lou and..." interrupted the man with glasses, trying to extinguish the fuse of an explosive situation.

"I am talking to Lou," said Freedom calmly and politely. "I want to find out what Louis has to say about this." Then, the facade of politeness was dropped, and the Crazy began vibrating with rage, droplets of spittle shooting out from his mouth. "What in the hell were you doing, Louis?!" he screamed.

"The guy'd been consorting with D-Bees and nearly choked me to death when I asked him about it!" protested Lou.

"A D-Bee burster saved my life, apparently," said Perrin. "I thought that the guy was human. And then when baldy here boasted that he had killed him, I understandably went berserk. I'm still not sure that I should have let him live."

Freedom thought it over for a moment. "Mr. Perrin," he said. "From now on, I hope that you will avoid associating with demons of all sorts, as is your duty. I am sure that normally you exercise superb judgment in the matter. And Louis, from now on, you will respect authority. I am not going to discipline you this time, but if such an incident ever happens again, well..." With that, the Crazy took out his vibro-knife, and waved it under Lou's nose. The skinhead promptly ran from the room.

"You are dismissed, good sir," said Freedom to the doctor, who had been cowering in the corner during the entire argument. "Remember, someday soon, Tolkeen shall be free. Have a nice day, and remember not to discuss this with anyone." The elderly man got to his feet, brushed himself off, and walked out of the room.

The Crazy then kneeled by Perrin's bed. "Dear Mr. Perrin," he said, gazing straight into Jack's eyes. "I recognize you as one of humanity's greatest champions. As such, you deserve leadership of the Human Freedom Association, which I now grant to you , sir."

Perrin was about to politely refuse. These weirdoes were beginning to seriously scare him, and he didn't want to be the leader of some strange terrorist group. But suddenly, he remembered the pyramid which Tucson had shown him. The Council's mega-weapon. The thing which was in such urgent need of destruction.

"I only hope that I can be as good a leader as you were, Mr. Freedom," said Perrin, grinning like a cat.

Next Chapter

By David Haendler.

Copyright © 1996, 1997, 1998David Haendler. All Rights Reserved.

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