Chapter 10: Unwanted Visitors
The deserts of the Gondwana dimension, 2007 – a couple of horsemen sped up to the entrance of the unreceptive cave which was once the Citadel of Aquilifon the Destroyer. Now, the place was reduced to an inglorious pile of rubble and ashes.
One of the horsemen looked like a mage, with a long, flowing red robe and a hat shaped like a tack; the other was wearing a type of light armor decorated with black spirals on blue armor plates and armed with a decorated sword. These were Richard and Kyurdin, members of King Charnaiz’s “Elite Eight” group, who had come looking for their leader.
The latter of the two dismounted at the entrance of the large ashen cave and went in. Richard followed, cautiously whirling his large wind-staff as he walked.
“This is the place, but I don’t see how his Majesty could still be here.” Kyurdin said, sounding a bit worried.
“Charnaiz is a cautious individual, Kyurdin. I’m sure he’d have survived this… massacre… quite easily. He’s either hiding somewhere or secured behind a strong energy shield.” replied Richard.
“He better be – the nation will be in chaos if they find out that his Majesty is missing.”
Just then, the two stumbled upon the large gaping hole that was the entrance to the wormhole.
“That… doesn’t look normal.” Kyurdin said.
“It’s a wormhole – and if my analysis is correct, it leads to outside Gondwana. This is probably where he went, either to hide or to chase after Aquilifon. I prefer to believe my latter hypothesis.”
“You’re suggesting that we go after him?”
“Unless you can offer an alternative course of action, then yes.”
“I can’t think of anything.”
“Well then, seeing as we have no other choice – it’s go-time.”
And with that, the mage and the swordsman jumped into the wormhole, and were sucked into the space-time rift that carried them to Krasnorussia, 2025.
Krasnorussia, 2025 – Dr. Voronov continued to monitor the inflow/outflow of the unstable wormhole generator, and was dismayed to find out that two more people had stumbled into the facility.
“You’re in the wrong dimension, people. It’s my duty as administrator of this facility to order you back out to where you came from.” he said over the PA system.
Kyurdin shouted back up to the control tower, “Fuck you, twat!” and drew his sword.
“There’s no need for profanity, Mr. Kyurdin.” Richard said, touching his wind staff on Kyurdin’s sword. He then shouted up to the control tower himself, “We’re looking for his Majesty Charnaiz dir Castillon! We’re sure he went this way! We’ll find him and take him out of your hair!”
Voronov put his hand to his chin. He’d remembered that Kazansky had mentioned that name before, but had no idea who he was talking about; Charnaiz and he had never met before.
“He’s not here. You can try to find him if you like, but I’m not allowing you into the city!” Voronov said.
“That won’t be a problem!” Richard said. “Thank you for your consideration!” He then turned to Kyurdin and said, “See? No need for bloodshed.”
Meanwhile, Murad, Kazansky, Charnaiz, Shruiken, Valeri, Primrose, Dym and elements of the Yekaterinburg 3RD SpetsNaz Battalion surrounded Croak, who was nailed down on a board by his hands and feet, his head quickly darting from each individual to the next, cursing at each of them.
“The Scorpion should be here any minute now, and we’ll need everyone present for the information this RI guy is gonna give us… we’ll also be needing a second torturer.” Kazansky announced.
“Eat me, Krasnorussian pig! I feel no pain!” Croak shouted, defiantly.
“He’s right, you know. It’s that nerve-removal procedure we invented. He can’t even feel it when you burn him. I don’t understand how we’re going to go through with this, comrade Major.” said Dym.
The doors slid open as Nicolette entered the room.
“Well, gentlemen, I’m he – sacrebleu!” Nicolette said, when she saw Croak nailed to a board on the wall.
“Shut up, you overseas whore!” Croak retorted.
“Putain d'outre-mer? C'est toi qui sera ma chienne après que je sois fait!” She said, gnashing her teeth.
“Vy klyanets’ kak vnutrennyaya svin’ya! V Rossiy, my ispol’zuem lyudei kak Vy kak advokat’!” Croak shouted back at her.
“Nicolette, I need your help.” Kazansky interrupted before the Scorpion could insert another French profanity.
“You’re getting what you deserve.” murmured Charnaiz.
“Yes, Major?” the Scorpion said, coughing a “TWLC” at Charnaiz.
“I need to figure out a way to torture this guy – he doesn’t feel pain, and all my main torture techniques involve well… something painful.”
“Well, I’m not sure if I can…”
“Make use of the five senses, Alexei-san.” Shruiken interrupted, “it is one of the greatest and most potent forms of torture.”
“He’s a genius!” said Kazansky, nodding. “Primrose, could you please stand beside Croak? Place your mouth next to his ear? Like that – yes, perfect.” Kazansky rubbed his hands together. “Everyone get the hell outta this room. We’re gonna start bombing his senses.”
The group then filed out of the room, leaving Primrose alone with Croak, the former wearing an evil grin.
“Everyone get behind the bulletproof glass.” Kazansky said. “This is gonna be loud, people, capital L.” He then knocked on the glass and gave the thumbs up to Primrose.
Primrose then screamed in Croak’s face, at a level that was just bearable enough so that the cement and metal in the room did not crumble away. She screamed for a full fifteen seconds, and the bulletproof glass in the opposite room began to crack. Sensitive alarms were triggered by the pitch of her voice, the war dog units outside began barking and whimpering, and then the screaming came to an abrupt stop.
The group stepped out of the soundproof room and went back to Croak. The RI hung there on the wall, his head gyrating from the dizziness.
Nicolette walked up to him and snapped her fingers at his face, “Hey – chienne, can you hear me? It’s rude to ignore people.”
Croak looked up at her and then hung his head back down.
Nicolette grabbed him by the chin and said, “Listen to me you piece of Russian merde!” but Croak just tilted his head, as if he didn’t understand.
Kazansky interrupted, “I think that last note made him deaf.”
“How are we going to get a confession out of a deaf man?” asked the Scorpion.
“I need a piece of paper.” said Charnaiz.
“No, no, that won’t work.” said Kazansky, “He can’t read English – his optical implants are written in Cyrillic. I’ll have to do it.”
Taking a notepad, Kazansky wrote, СКАЖИТЕ НАМ, ГДЕ ВАШ БОСС ЯВЛЯЕТСЯ, ИЛИ МЫ СДЕЛАЕМ ЕЕ КРИК СНОВА. (TELL US WHERE YOUR BOSS IS, OR WE WILL MAKE HER SCREAM AGAIN.)
Croak spoke, albeit slowly and drearily, “He’s… not at the Soviet Fortress… the place has been occupied by Black Army troops, and you were to be ambushed there. He’s in the settlement of Khasan, south of Vladivostok, nearing the North Korean border, hiding in a giant camouflaged bunker – awaiting my arrival to fulfill the prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” asked Valeri.
“My memory banks are obscured – I was only told about a prophecy over videophone, but not given any details.”
“Did it mention a being called Aquilifon?”
“Not to my knowledge…”
“You’re coming with us.” Charnaiz said, “If you’re lying, I will cut off your head with Char Milvian myself.”
Croak shook his head and groaned.
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