Posted on Aug 31, 2007 in Front Page Features, TIAOW

The Incorrect Art of War [Episode 33] – The Terminal Phase

13.

"I’m not convinced that a grenade will do the trick…that machine seems pretty well built"

"Yes indeed, but perhaps if we lever it out of there, the enhanced strength of my cybernetic arm will be able to smash it open and disable it"

You go to help the Doctor but as you do so, gunshots ring out in the cavern and you swivel to face a new threat – the US Army patrols have finally caught up with you.

"General, you hold them off while I get this thing out!"

Grimly, you nod acceptance as you remove the pistol from its holster. Crouching down behind one of H.A.T.E.’s supporting girders, you return fire, picking your targets carefully.

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Behind you, Doctor Sinister plunges both hands into the panel and grabs the laptop. Electricity surges through his body as H.A.T.E.’s final booby-trap pumps raw power through his metal arm. Parts of his clothing catch light and there is the smell of singed flesh, but with titanic resolve, the Doctor continues to pull the laptop from its makeshift housing as you desperately try to stop the enemy troops reaching your position.

And suddenly, Doctor Sinister is lying on the floor by your side, his face locked in a grimace of agonising pain, flesh burned from the voltage, but with the laptop computer clutched tightly in his hands. You grab the machine, and, seeing that the back of the laptop is twisted and bent, the circuits exposed, you empty the final bullets from your automatic pistol into the computer, silencing it forever.

You check your watch…there were only ten seconds to spare but the final signal will now never be broadcast. You turn breathlessly to the Doctor.

"We did it Sir! I mean, YOU did it! You saved us all!"

Doctor Sinister smiles and then his eye closes for the last time.

"My Lord? Sir? Excellency?" You examine the Doctor but it is clear that he is dead.

For a while you stare at the Doctor, the man who just saved the world, unbelieving, before the sound of boots on concrete rouses you back to reality. You are surrounded by US soldiers, all of them aiming their assault rifles at your face. Resistance is futile.

"You’ll come with us Sir" says one soldier, perhaps still holding a vestige of reverence for your rank.

You nod and reply simply with two words.

"I surrender".

END