Fallen King Ch 16

Fallen King: Distracted (16)
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Shocker entered an unmarked warehouse in New York where his brothers are hiding. It was their temporary base of operations for now, where they plan their next moves and to trade gathered intelligence for the other Protectorates around the country or global-wide.
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It was empty, save for a round table in the middle and a few chairs occupied by the Hybrid warriors. They were facing Brother Hardwire, as he spoke in front.
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"Shocker," he greeted. The black and green Protectorate nodded at him.
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"Hardwire," Shocker acknowledged back as he placed the briefcase on the table. "Nuclear device blueprints."
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"I knew it," Hardwire said. "What took you so long?"
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"Just had a standoff, but that wasn't important."
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Hardwire nodded. It had been three years since the First Mobilization Day. The world, they recently learned, was plunged into a catastrophic Cold War era where Earth became a battlefield between Democracy and Communism. The Heaven wasn't picking any sides between the two, and so are the Protectorates. However, the lack of Angels to watch over Humans was troubling that Heaven decided to send the Protektovares to intervene.
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Both sides had been waging a shadow war against one another, which resulted in a tolerable casualty. But the fact that a few aggressive Communist factions have been devising catastrophic weapons to destabilize the West was worrying.
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If another deaths that would make the Second World War looked like children's party in comparison happens, God knew that the world will be lost forever. The Veil will be torn apart completely and Earth will be vulnerable to everything, including ancient evil that were far more devastating than Satan or his forces.
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The events so far were containable. A few cells from the Black Poison Society Insurgents were being activated one by one to carry out horrendous acts. They were globally operating and had a multinational army that knows no mercy. They weren't sure where or how does the BPS Insurgents managed to get a hold of such blueprints.
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But it does not matter. Because tonight, they are about to take down a prominent leader and his demise would throw their army in disarray.
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"We have intel from a third party about this man named, 'Alexander Victors', aka, Commander Fanblade. He is currently the leader of the Bronx-Wing Front 174. He is the man responsible for the Gerry-Alcott Murders and the Dawson Bombings six weeks before. Currently he is holed up in a secured warehouse in Alamo, visiting a munitions base, the warehouse itself. Our objective is to carry out a raid at the secured warehouse and terminate the target."
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"What about his army in Bronx?" Protectorate Beatstrike asked.
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"Protectorate Trident and his team and Protectorate Vengeance and her team were assigned by the Watchtower to clear them up. Our objective right now was the Alamo warehouse."
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"Do we have any intel about the Alamo warehouse?" Protectorate Sensor asked.
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Hardwire sent information to their minds and they saw that the secured warehouse was a vast one, surrounded by an electric fence, four watchtowers, an army-worth of Insurgents and a detachment of bribed law enforcers. Among them, there were other Insurgent factions and mercenary outfits.
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"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Protectorate Linepower said as he slammed his fist against the table.
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"Oh, don't worry, we will have a backup along the way." Hardwire said reassuringly.
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"Well, hopefully." Linepower said sarcastically.
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The discussion came to an end and Hardwire asked if there are questions. When there were none, the meeting was adjourned.
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Shocker was staring distantly at the ground, recalling his encounter against his nemesis. When he sensed Hardwire, he looked up and nodded.
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"So, we're moving out?" Shocker asked.
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"Brother, you're not focused. Are you alright?"
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"Of course." Shocker replied. "So, when are we going to move?"
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"We're going to move now. Pick everything you need around you and meet us in the truck." Hardwire said before leaving him.
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The Protectorates around him were arming themselves already. He approached the rifles rack and retrieved a Type-3 Blast Rifle, a handful of cells, some grenades, and clips for his Ray Pistol.
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After that, he walked out of the warehouse towards the truck, and mounted on the back.
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For a moment, he shoved the thoughts aside and let his mind be focused on the mission. He found them, finally. He had their scent in his mind metaphorically but the death echoes that followed them was strong, albeit fading. But it was still a trail nonetheless.
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He will find them and he will destroy them soon.
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(Fallen King Tale)