Spooks: Chapter 4 Chapter 4: Duel of the Fates A steady rain of projectiles pierced the windows of the observation deck as the helicopter continued its attack, machine gunners blazing away at the unprotected balcony, tearing through leather seats, glass, and plastic decoration alike. Crouching behind one of the large information displays, the terrorist known as Tammen held visual contact with his adversary, Black, who was hiding behind the counter of the small souvenir store right opposite of Tammen�s current position. Both men had their guns drawn, but not pointing at one another. They were checking their ammunition count, smirks and angry expressions coming to them as they saw their reserves vanishing. As per some divine intervention, both men were down to their last two bullets, including the ones in the chambers of their side arms. They could thus not afford to waste those shots. Tammen sat behind the display, bullets shredding some of the colored plastic above, tearing at the edges of the display. A grim satisfaction filled him as he saw his opponent in a similar predicament, the cheaply made counter chipping and bursting under the impact of automatic rifle fire. Both agents now turned to their logical circuits, forgetting the battle at hand for a moment to ponder their next moves, and the consequences that might arise from each action. Most ended in their demise, they noticed, and thus, after about 30 seconds each, they arrived at a consensus. Their gaze rose simultaneously as their ideas streamed into their consciousness, brown eyes meeting green ones, both pairs fiercely professional, cold and hard. Then Black began motioning, subtle hand motions made to indicate his plan, which involved, or rather, centered on the demise of that chopper. Both men were excellent marksmen; with near perfect hit rations in their year together at the academy. Still, a move like this had to be planned, as every bullet needed to be placed in very exact spots to fulfill their plan. Nodding his approval to the plan, Tammen moved into position at the edge of the display, careful not to be struck by any of the shrapnel, his gun lifted as he silently counted down from 10, his peripheral vision informing him of Black�s similar posture and action. When finally the gunners on the chopper stopped to reload, it was at a most inopportune time, as both men emerged from their positions, weapons leveled, the sound of many bullets replaced by that of only 4, shot in the opposite direction, toward the helicopter. The crew did not have enough time to react, or even complete a warning, as both pilots twitched in their seats, holes and crimson blood decorating their visors. The desired effects came rather quickly, as the helicopter�s controls failed, leaving the large vessel turning as it descended, scraping the balcony floor. The rudder broke, sending the propeller blades spinning further into the room, one striking the ground, the other scorching by Black�s head, missing it by inches only. One of the gunners attempted to leap out of the doomed gunship, and managed to grab a hold of a window frame as the helicopter fell, the main propeller catching him as it went down, leaving only a bleeding torso hanging while the chopper passed below sight. Tammen and Black stood, regarding the scene they had just created, then ducked as flames rose outside the window, the remaining windows and glass walls shattering, sending even more glass and debris to the already littered ground while the structure groaned, shook by the close impact. Wiping some glass from his jacket, the terrorist rose, then turned toward his opponent, the agent mimicking his motions, both men dropping their respective guns at the exact same moment as they broke into a charge, each man ready to do his part to end this battle. Speeding up, the run of both men ended in a leap, both men jumping at almost the same moment, as if they were performing an elaborate stunt show. They crashed into one another in midair, a crunching sound emitted as they met in an almost friendly seeming hug, then came down hard onto the splinted glass, clothes and skin torn and cut as they struck the shards. Wincing from the pain, both men rose once again, slowly stepping backwards to prepare for the deadly dance that lay ahead. �I must say, Black,� Tammen called out, the typical amused smile on his lips in anticipation of the battle ahead, �You have done a good job so far. Even that kid you are training has some skills.� You son of a bitch, Black thought as he studied his opponent, then spoke, carefully, �He has more class and skill than you�ll ever have, you bastard.� �Oh, I do not doubt that,� Tammen continued, cracking his neck as he danced from one foot to another in provocation and preparation, �I never considered myself to be an agent, even back when we learned together. Remember? Old Donny always used to yell at me for being so insubordinate and not, ummm, what did he call it? Oh yea, projecting enough pride in my chosen profession.� Laughing about the memory, both men readied themselves, taunting each other with subtle hand motions and body posture to unnerve the other, another trick they had both learned at the academy. The sound of flames and the shouts and moans of those who were not smart or quick enough to avoid the initial explosion and the storm of shrapnel filled the air, creating a nice backdrop for the imminent duel of the fates. Then the inevitable occurred, as both men advanced, carefully moving toward one another, then stopped, trained hands moving in studied ways, blocking and striking back and forth as the men danced, barely avoiding a slip on the miserable surface created by fallen glass, blood stains, and chucks of concrete and steel. Fists and feet flew, cutting the air as they traced it in rapid motions, both men fierce in their strength, even as their similar training patterns showed that their could not be a true winner in this duel. Both men soon began to breathe harder, their senses still tuned solely on the other, their eyes darting around the two forms, trailing every punch, every kick, every block. Finally, the glass demanded a price, and Tammen�s slip cost him dearly, as Black�s foot came down, striking the other right below the knee, sending waves of pain up the terrorist�s leg even as his other came around, leveling Black, who fell on his back onto the glass, resulting in more cuts on his back while Tammen flipped to his feet, two long cuts on his palms occurring through the splintering glass. �This is getting us nowhere,� Tammen said, avoiding yet another punch, then moved to strike out at his opponent, who once again ducked under the blow, �we�ll be fighting up here for hours without result.� Seeing the other�s impatience, Black stepped back, readying himself for another blow, then leapt, attempting to kick his opponent down, a favorite among agents. Tammen had seen the video and the training course though, and managed to duck, then uppercut the agent just as he leapt by, sending him tumbling to the ground right next to the ruined elevator shaft, the crunch of more broken glass filling the alcove as the large figure crashed to the ground. Waiting for his opponent to rise, Tammen drew some power, positioning himself in a way they had last used against one another in their football career at the academy, another one of those short-lived events in Tammen�s life, as he preferred his reading and meditation to the violent sport, drawing yet more criticism from his professors, especially Agent Leifert, who was annoyed by Tammen anyway. As Black now rose, his gaze turned to that of his opponent, just as the broad-shouldered terrorist started forward, his shoulder low as he went in for the tackle. The agent barely managed to avoid the 230 lbs colossus by leaping aside, then spun as well, one hand coming down to lightly push the terrorist. The simple action caused a series of terrible events, all of which started off with Tammen going over the edge of the rail, one large hand managing to grab the metal rail as he swung now, below the balcony, right in sight of those SWAT gunners assembled below, some of which lay there already, shards of glass sticking in their forms. The elite policemen immediately, their standard issue police weaponry blasting away through some lighter smoke, striking the concrete around Tammen, sending pieces raining down onto the carpeted floor of the walkway. As the firefight continued, Black moved to the rail, glancing down at his opponent just as a crimson mist rose from the man�s side, where a bullet had just strafed him, creating yet another hole in his jacket and one on the very edge of his torso. Glancing down at the terrorist�s eyes, Black saw something that could resemble a small degree of fear, or shock, and felt himself reminded of the old days when they had been sleeping in the same barracks, and before that when they had shared big dreams and hopes in their high school life. A decision came rather quickly, as he grabbed a hold of Tammen�s wrists. �Promise me you�ll come peacefully and I will pull you up,� Black said, close to yelling over the sound of automatic weapon fire, �Wentling�s security forces are standing by to retrieve all of us before the officials get here. So it�s either death or prison for you, my friend.� Tammen required barely a second�s thought on the issue before he nodded and spoke his consent, then struggled to help Black in pulling him onto the balcony, away from those gunners. Pressing a hand to his wound, the German knelt, his breathing rather quick, a look of both pride and admiration in his light green gaze, contrasting sharply with the thick crimson liquid which emerged from his side in small waves. �You know that we will soon meet again, right?� Tammen whispered 10 minutes later as police camouflaged Heavenly Inc. security troops wheeled him away on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance, also courtesy of Heavenly�s influence over the local authorities. Black stood there, silently pondering his day while the medics went to work on his defeated opponent, a deep satisfaction filling the large man even as he regarded his suit, now torn and tattered, blood stains on both shirt and cuff, a terrible condition for a suit which had cost him some of his monthly salary, which was quite good. After another few moments of thought, he wandered over and entered a second ambulance, smiling at young Stilling who was clutching the acquired disk in his hand even as the medics were working on his wounded face and shoulder. A look of both bravery and pride was in the young man�s eyes as he had managed to secure his objective in his very first mission. Black smirked, regarding the kid, his experience with Tammen telling him that Andy had more luck than skill in this mission, and had probably survived his encounter only because Tammen was a very eccentric man from time to time. One thought stayed with the large agent as the ambulances set off, blending in with the normal BWI traffic. What a shitty day� This will probably be the last collaboration between Jan and Smokey. The story will not be ending however, but do to circumstances one of our heroes will not make it through the next chapter......Entitled "Consequences and Repercussions," this new chapter will be available shortly.
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