Faust

Well, the way I figure it, the three realised that richtofen had been effin' with thier heads with the whole data servent thing, so they left him behind. That would make sence if they reintroduced subject 2-6, otherwise you'd have TWO people who gives you clues to the story, making the whole team dinamic too complicated. BRING ON 2-6!

You mean Easter Eggs? They're gamer slang for things the game creaters placed it the game to be found but arn't written down anywhere in the guide. They're often things like pictures of important things, radios, or the music in kino.

No, you were preaching to the converted. You never said you need help, you were saying "Those assholes from CoDz are soooooo stupid for missing this." Yup, this is flaming, but don't try to pass something off as something that it's not.

All that bandwidth waisted. >Vietnam flashback

If you are referring to the way I type. I am always like this. It is not just for playthegame, but everything. I try to be formal and well punctuated. Oh, no. That was not intended, honestly. I just figured the blue would add a bit of punctuation. EDIT: You know, I was a dove once. One of the first, and at the forefront. I respect you for sticking with this ARG, and it's put enough life into me to feel less like a flamer and more of a herald. Still just as fun. You're right, doves and crows should unite against a common enemy, the men that spawned this feud.

They aren't to be believed. Double post, but necessary to express the urgency of this matter.

Jesus. I have a copy of those documents too! They were all just magically scanned by carbonfibah, printed out, and placed it a briefcase with GK spray painted on it! THAT MUST MEAN HENRY IS REAL! NO. Let me get something strait. Gknova0 is afraid of me. You know why? Because I sent them an message that made the realize how bad they'd screwed themselves over three days before black ops launch. In addition to that, I was giving out the fact about why these men are fakes and people saw the truth, so they blocked me entirely. They're afraid of us too. They know that the men at CoDz know better. Believe me, and JUST LISTEN. IT WAS ALL A SCAM SO SOME BRITISH BAND COULD GET FAMOUS. STOP ALL YOUR BABBLING AN WAKE UP!

Well, Treyarch sure knows how to throw a Xmas bash. Ah, working on Gknova6. This is why I stick around. I'll work on this later, probably after Xmas.

Merry Christmas all!

Dempsey struggled with the straps to the chair that was holding him down. With a loud electrical buzz, pain shot all through his body, causing him shriek out toward thee heavens until the pain went way. A German’s voice, mellow and calm spoke to him as he did so. “Now, now,” the voice spoke as if tending to an ignorant child, “We must not attempt to break the equipment.” Dempsey felt panicked. Where the hell was he? Who was doing this? He was so panicked, he hardly though long enough to take a look at the room as he snapped his head back an fourth. It was a clean white room, with a large dentist light above him. A one-way mirror sat to his left and a large projection played in front of him. Both his arms where strapped to the operation chair he was trapped in, with metal braces supporting the leather straps. A large electric battery was strapped to Dempsey’s US Marine uniform and a microwave hummed in the back in sync with random numbers that played within the room. “Who the fuck are you!?” Dempsey demanded. Another bolt shot up his spine. The voice spoke again, this time more agitated than last time. “Do not fuck with me Dempsey! Now watch the screen.” Look towards the screen. Numbers flashed in his head and he felt word fill his mind. As he pulled himself away, another shock went up his back. “Go to hell!” he shouted as an electrical shock went up his back. “This isn’t working,” the voice called as Dempsey began to fade out, “Can the fixture go any higher?” “Certainly,” another meeker voice spoke, “But you can’t seriously be considering amplifying the use of element---” “Run the damn machine!” Another hundreds of volts ran through Dempsey’s body. “Stop you fool, you are going to kill him!” The electricity cut off, leaving Tank’s lifeless body limb where it lay. Tank awoke hours later in the same chair. He found he had soiled his own pants during the electrical shocks. Tank wasn’t afraid. Tank would never be afraid. He just felt ready to die. He was positioned in front of a glass window, allowing him to see what was happening in the other room. Anther man was strapped into a chair in the other room, facing a projection in the other. Dempsey felt joy sweep over him at the sight of another man. He hooted and hollered, but to no avail. Quickly, he realized that now he was looking into a one-way mirror. The doctor’s voice cracked over the PA. “And now Dempsey, you shall see what happens to those who do not cooperate.” The straps on the man in the other room snapped off. Slowly, the man gravitated over to the wall that the projection was on. The man clawed at the wall endlessly as no longer a man but an autonomous beast. Suddenly, the PA and projector swapped off. The man immediately went berserk, tearing up anything and everything in its path. The thing turned to the mirror and began to pound away at it. A large crack tore down the glass. A second voice cracked over the PA. “He’s breaking the glass, active the gas.” Without a second to spare, a nauseating brown gas filled the other chamber. The man in the other room shook violently and began tearing though the chamber. When he turned to Dempsey, he could clearly see the man’s eyes bleeding and his face literally melting from the chemicals. The creature’s body fell to the ground, unmoving. Dempsey attempted to rip off his straps through brute force. “You bastards!” he screamed, “I’m going to kill all of you! You hear me!” Another bolt of energy ran through his skull, sending him into a spiral of unconsciousness he could not free himself from. How long had he been like this? Days? Months? Years? Was he still who he once was? His future seemed only to be a black, inky sleep within this lab with no escape. “Is the experiment ready?” “I assure you sir, the test is ready, however I do not advise--” “I don’t give a damn! The death of doctor Maxis was a shock to us all, yet without him, or experiments must keep yielding result before Command shuts us down. The Data Servant must be pushed forward! It will aid us. This way, we can weed out the ones able to withstand the operation!” “It won’t work! We’ve already kill five experiments! The human body is incapable of withstanding element 115 with massive alterations to their psyche!” “Well we shall find out.” Dempsey came to too early. He awoke to find himself in an operating chair with several doctors crowded around him. He couldn’t feel a thing, but he could tell as the doctors cut into him. His eyes gazed across the operating room. Another man was strapped into another chair without any sedatives. He exploded into shrieks each time a doctor drilled into him. Finally, he caught Dempsey’s eyes and screamed to him. “Don’t let them do it! Kill me!” The man fought with the straps to his chair. After causing a doctor to knock over his buzz saw, it cut through his strap. His used his new free hand to grab the saw and use it to slice on of the doctors across the face. He turned his attention to his other arm and began to use the saw to tear through his arm in an attempt to brake free. Blood flew from the ceiling all the way to Dempsey’s operator once it dug through his flesh. Several operators dove onto the man to subdue him. One of the doctors looked into Dempsey’s eyes and shook in panic. “Oh God, this patient is aware!” Dempsey felt more gas flow into his lungs and sedative flow into his veins, causing him to once again fade away. He awoke while standing on top of a large glass dome under a metal cover. Bolts of energy shot from the floor as Dempsey began to feel himself being energized. A voice came from a distant speaker. “Energizing for transference to room 3!… God let this work!” Dempsey dropped to his knees a clutched his stomach. His bloodied uniform was worn from ages within this hell. He came to his own realization that all his years of taking lives caught up to him. He was dead. More lightning surrounded him and glowed with power. A voice spoke in his head. This is your fate Dempsey… This is your fate. Then there was nothing. Chapter 2 Dempsey awoke to the smell of smoke and the sound of alarms. A loud bell rang one constant note that rattled his skull. When he opened his eyes he was still strapped into the same chair. The sterile white lighting of the room had been replaced by the orange glow of dusk. He had a splitting migraine, and several screams shook outside the operation room. The screams outside the door weren’t the screams of Americans though. They had the distinct tone of a German in distress. He heard two scientists bickering behind the one-way mirror in front of him. “Is he awake?” “Yes, he is aware. Are you sure this is a good idea?” “Let’s hope so. He’s our only hope for defeating the verruckt. He is the prime experiment, the perfect soldier. We may not control him, but we can point him in the untoten’s direction.” Suddenly, a clamor was heard in the room. “Who is that!?” It was responded to with just a low moan. A ghastly, inhuman moan that haunts Dempsey to this day. The two scientists hooted and hollered in some sort of struggle. One gunshot was heard, than the struggle stopped. Quickly, the latch to the room shot open, and a stout German staggered out with a white lab coat on. He made eye contact with the delusional Dempsey, who just lay there with no emotion visible. “Oh thank God!” the scientist shouted. Dempsey recognized the voice as the meeker Nazi who was there the first time he was interrogated. “We must get out of here my friend! The whole damn building is coming down! The element had begun to take effect!” The man unlatched Dempsey’s arms. He looked down at his bruised and bloodied hands. His hands tightened into fist. One of them launched out once the man had finished the other strap, clocking the man it the spot between his jaw and ear. With adrenaline pumping trough his veins, Dempsey rose from his chair. The man lay where he fell. It was clear that Dempsey had broken his jaw, for when he spoke he only moved half his face and whimpered as he did so. “Please,” he begged, “Listen to reason!” Dempsey was not himself now. He could only watch himself as he bored down on the man with blow after blow from his fists. Every blow came from a pure hatred for these men. They had to die. Every blow caused the man to flinch, recoil, and shriek in pain. After the man stopped flinching, Dempsey looked down at his bloodied hands to see that the job was done. He set out of the lab with that microwave still buzzing behind him. As he entered the interrogation room, he gagged in disgust. Two bodies lay motionless in the confined space. On was that of a scientist in a white lab coat and a gash across his shaven head. The other was the rotten body of a Nazi soldier, totally headless from a gunshot. No blood flowed from the killed soldier, despite the massive amounts of puss flowing from its body. A large metal bulk door stood shut in front of Dempsey, sealed shut from the outside, as if the men in the room had been sealed in by another. A small window of safety glass allowed Dempsey to see into the outside world. Outside, several scientists were fleeing in terror from an unseen threat. On stumbled onto the ground and got back up to join the others before their pursuers could catch up with them. That is when Dempsey first came face to face with the very nightmare that will haunt him years to come. Several soldiers moved in a sluggish and methodic movement towards the scientists. One of the men (if it would be justified to even call them men) stopped and turned the Dempsey. He could then see that these were not men, but walking death. When the creature turned to Dempsey, its glowing eyes stared at him. His burning eyes glowed bright has hot coals, bright red from some for of internal hemorrhaging. The thing had clearly lost all it’s humanity, as when it look to Dempsey, he felt no anger hatred, compassion or interest from the creature, just a primeval lust for sustenance. Upon discovering him, the creatures jaw dropped and let out a half-scream moan. As it did so, blood flowed from its mouth, accompanied by chunks of undigested flesh that dribbled down its SS uniform and down to its boots. The large hands the creature had hung at its sides, unless passing an object, for then it used them to keep balance. It slunk in a hunched position as it stared into Dempsey’s soul. Dempsey was emotionally compromised. On one hand, the wall of steel protected him from the beast, yet on the other, he was trapped inside the metal cage. Just as Dempsey had given up trying to think his way out of this, a scientist ran back past the creature. Dempsey could here the scientist shouting over all the others. “Idiots! The experiment must be kept alive! Who locked this door!?” The scientist fondled with the latch to the door until the door swung open, leaving Dempsey being held at gunpoint by the scientist as the creature inched nearer. “Thought you could skimp out on all this Dempsey? No. We still have plans for you!” Thinking quickly, Dempsey shoved the man backwards into the arms of the creature. The undead wrapped its heavy hands around him and began to feed on him, starting with one large bite into the scientist neck, killing him instantly. From there, Dempsey took off down the hall. The entire hallway glowed with some light the made Dempsey’s head feel like it was about to split. He dove into a corned and clenched his insides. When he stripped off his shirt though, he found that there were no large stitches from the surgery the Nazis had given him, only dark purple scars. He through his shirt back on and continued moving. It seemed like everywhere people were in a panic. Scientists would flee, more monsters would crawl out of some corner, and more prisoners were escaping. The halls where engulfed in flames. Across the way, a Marine stumbled out of a lab with several gunshot wounds, a shaven head, and numerous cuts. He look directly at Dempsey and smiled. Dempsey could make out the Marine’s name as the flames encircled him; John. He made a desperate struggle to brave the flames and get to John, but as he did so, another Nazi scientist tore through the fire armed with a large glowing weapon. “Dempsey!” he called, “You show yourself! We want to take you alive, but we will kill you if you resist!” Another Marine emerged from another lab armed with a lead pipe. He charged strait towards the scientist, but just before he made contact, the scientist fired the gun, launching a beam of energy at the Marine. The Marine instantly evaporated, leaving only behind a red spray and the lead pipe. “I will kill everyone here if that means getting to you Dempsey!” Dempsey quickly took off in the other direction down one of the building’s corridors. More Marines in tattered uniforms ran past him. One finally made eye contact with Dempsey. The man threw down his gun and tackled Dempsey. The other Marines made a circle around the two, shooting anything that came close to the fight. Dempsey and the other man where in a full on grapple. Dempsey searched the floor for a weapon, a rock, anything to get the man off him. The other Marine began to toss heavy blows to Dempsey’s face. “You son of a bitch!” the Marine shouted, “Do you know what we had to go through for you? You traitor! I should kill you right now!” One of the other Marines attempted to break up the fight. “Smokey! For God sakes, lay off him! He’s aware! If he wasn’t, you think you’d have been able to take his down? Look,” he motioned to a group of undead moving closer to them, “We aren’t them!” The Marine known as Smokey got off Dempsey and left with the other prisoners, leaving Dempsey for dead with the creatures as they inched closer. As Dempsey lifted himself off the floor, one grabbed onto him with the force of a vice. “Leg’go of me freaksack!” Dempsey shouted as he shook the monster off. From the dark corner of the room a Japanese Imperial soldier emerged, a drawn katana in hand. In three liquid movements, the soldier sliced all four of the creatures in two, including the cadaver that clung Dempsey before being torn asunder by a threat it never saw coming. Almost without noise, the man approached Dempsey and placed the cold steel of his blade under Dempsey’s throat. The man spoke in an age old voice as if he had witnessed a millennia of meditation despite not looking a day over nineteen. “United States Marine? I should have expected you barbarians would be the cause of this wickedness. My name is Takeo Mistuki, and I am now the own of your fate. You have two options; die honorably, or you will lead me out of this evil place, take me to the men responsible for all this, and then I kill you. The choice is yours to make.” “Look Tojo,” Dempsey spoke, “I have no idea where the hell I am, and I’m having a really bad fucking day. I’ve just about decided that I’m going to kill everyone in this whole damn building until I find some answers and you’re in my way… not wise.” “Well,” Takeo stated, “That would not be my last words, but whatever helps your soul rest.” Takeo spun his sword in a fluid motion, ready to cut Dempsey down. Just then, another voice spoke, but this time it was a low gravely voice will much presence in a booming Russian accent. “Don’t you even think of doing that, or I’ll place a bullet right between your slanted eyes!” Dempsey turned to see a muscular Russian soldier with a Lugar in hand, aiming it strait through Dempsey’s head and into Takeo’s. Takeo sheathed his sword and stood in place staring at the Russian. The mighty samurai and the booming uresa traded glares until Takeo gave a stoat bow toward the Russian and minced in the other direction, unsheathing his sword to slice a fleeing scientist in his achilles as he went along his way. “Crazy Japanese,” the Russian spoke, “Always rambling of honor, yet when it comes time to do the honorable thing and show mercy, they have none to offer. At least admit you’re a degenerate like me before you go out murdering innocents.” Dempsey produced a large brick from out behind his back. “Couldn’t have just let me take care of that?” Dempsey spoke awkwardly. “Don’t be a fool. Now, I’m going to find some way out of here and find some sort of bar. I think I could go of a drink. And do not follow me, I don’t want people thinking I’m soft and look after stray Marines.” “You sound like my kind of guy, friend,” Dempsey chuckled. “Have any idea what the is happening? Where am I? How did you get here?” “In all honesty, I can’t answer any of those. I have no idea where I am. One moment I was… Hem. I can’t remember. All I know it that I woke up here and all this chaos started happening. I’ve… I just need to get out of here so I can think, try to remember what those doctors did to me.” “Good luck friend. Can I at least know your name?” “Believe me, if fate was set on me telling you my name, well see each other again. If not, you’re just one more person I won’t need to remember. Farewell American.” As the Russian ducked his head and disappeared into the flames, Dempsey began to search for a way out. He decided he didn’t need to know what had happened to him. It was probably just some Nazi mental experiment. It was all going to be okay if he just made it out. Just then, the German with the energy weapon returned and began to search for him. “Dempsey! Where are you? Where do you think you are to run off to? You think you can just return to America and everything will be fine? You’re one of us now! You know how much money we spent on you!? We could have used you Dempsey! You could have been a god!” Dempsey clutched his head in agony. Some suppressed feeling welled up just under the surface of his mind. Something was fighting to get out. 22. 67. 87. 9. 0. Without thought, he ducked into a room to get away from the man who was stalking him. He found himself in the room of one of the scientists, with the name Porter starched across a name tag on the desk. The name Poster burrowed itself deep into Dempsey’s mind, as if it struck some well of memories. He head was still throbbing. He ripped open one of the desks to find what appeared to be a pistol, but with a large metal barrel and florescent lights glowing off it. Somehow he just sort of knew that that was all he would need. As he stumbled out of the room, six zombified soldiers approached Dempsey with jaws wide ready to feed. Dempsey aimed at the creatures and fired at them with one pull of the trigger. With one pull, a burst of ferocious ice blasted out of the barrel of the gun, freezing the creatures in place where they stood. Their eyes stared blankly back at Dempsey, literally frozen in time. He would normal have surprised him, but instead it only struck another well of memories. Winter’s Howl. Maximum ammo count, 20 rounds. Energy powered. Weapon degradation fast. Porter. Peter. Flames surrounded Dempsey and began to creep closer toward him as the heat slowly encircled him. With two burst of icy wind, a path was cleared in front of him through the flames. He took off down the hall just as a group of three scientists rounded the corner. He fired one burst of the Winter’s Howl at them, freezing them strait to the walls. One door sat in front of him. It was a large door with a steel lever to open it to the outside world. Words in German were stretched across the door. Dempsey’s head nearly burst as his mind decoded the German that lay in front of him. Exit. Warning, all unattended children will be sold immediately to the circus. As he tried to rip open the door, he found it was locked. Dempsey used all his weight to force open the locked exit. With the sound of three heavy foot steps, the German with the energy weapon appeared through the flames, dragging the body of a dead zombified Marine behind him. The German wore a large black trench coat and shiny ink colored gloves. The green pulsating glow from the weapon he was holding seemed to reflect of the iron cross that hung from his cap. Another creature attacked the scientist, but with one burst of the man’s weapon its head shattered and incinerated the area where it struck the ghoul. Dempsey was beginning to feel enraged at that scientist. Why would he just leave him alone? He looked down at the scientist’s gun. “What is that, a… ray gun?” He lifted the Winter’s Howl to the man and fired one burst of frost, instantly, the man fired back with his heat weapon, causing the two forces to collide into a violent explosion of energy and ice. Dempsey flew backwards into the steel door, causing it to dent a little. This gave Dempsey an idea. He fired one blast onto the door, causing the locks to freeze into brittle hinges. The scientist lifted himself off the floor and began to stomp towards Dempsey as he pulled out a concealed Hitler Youth knife from inside his overcoat. As Dempsey look to his left, he noticed a ghoul pounding upon the glass from an observation port like the man he had see be gassed to death. Dempsey fired the Winter’s Howl at the glass, making it brittle enough for the beast to break, reach through, and grab hold of the man. The scientist dropped both his weapons in astonishment and struggled to pry the monster’s cold, dead hand off him. With two punches, Dempsey broke the locked hinges to the door. His knuckles bleeding, he opened the exit and took one last good look at the man as he left the smoke and death of his former hell and entered the outside world a changed man. Chapter 3 Three Weeks Later Location of this event was classified Suggests unknown location in the Mohave Desert 1945 Three men sat outside a large table with a large window to their left that faced into a white interrogation room. One of the men strut over to the coffee pot in the corner of the room and filled his mug. The dust and dirt of the Mohave Desert had only slightly coated his clean white suit and silk tie, all stapled together with a pair of brown-tinted aviators that shaded out his eyes and dangled almost frustratingly low on his face, providing a look that said “I’m important, so you better let me do the talking here.” A glimpse in through the wind revealed a stocky figure lashed to a chair with a burlap sack over the figure’s head, with a US Marine uniform covering it. The man in the shades leaned closer to another man in the room, a man with thick Coke-bottle glasses and a wooden clip board. “So,” the man in the shades began as he took one exaggerated sip of his black coffee, “Who’s this guy?” The man in the glasses through down the clip-board with a full dossier attached. "Tank Dempsey: American hero. Give him a loaded weapon, a good woman, and something to shoot at and he’s happy. Cross him and he’ll rip your guts out and use them as a bandolier. Dempsey was selected for recon of Berlin after he showed his true grit at the battle for Peleliu. Remarkable as it seems, his unit was captured during the early raids before the main invasion, and he spent 2 weeks in a rat infested bamboo cage submerged in malarial water. Eventually, he gnawed his way through the cage, and then gnawed his way through his captors armed only with a bobby pin and his Medal of Honor which he keeps secreted in various body cavities. There is no before the war for Dempsey, there is no after. There is only the legend of Tank Dempsey, and how he won the war for the rest of us. Leaving behind a wake of destruction and meat sacks wherever he goes, Dempsey is the man to have on your side when faced with an apocalypse". “He sounds impressive,” replied the man in the shades, “How did we finally catch him?” The third man in the room finally spoke. This man was a well decorated Army Colonel and stood roughly six-foot-nine, capped off by a US Army field cap. “Me and the rest of my men where positioned outside a small unmarked village in France after the liberation of Paris. We were patrolling the area, assuming that the German’s may use the area for resupplying between ammo runs. We were hoping we’d be able to surprise a company of poorly armed Germans who’d arrived home to find that we’ve occupied it. Suddenly, one of our sentries sees this man stumbling out of the tree line. Rather than shoot on sight, the man sees that he’s a US Marine. So he called over four of his buddies to help out this stranger and tried to get any information out of him about were he came from. He said he couldn’t remember anything, so they gave him a warm cot and so hot food. Eventually, someone noticed this hanging around his waist crammed into a pistol holster.” The Soldier opened a medium sized case in front of him, which after opening revealed the Winter’s Howl glistening under the buzzing florescent lights. Immediately, the scientist tore it out of the soldier’s hand, almost cradling the technology that stood before them. The soldier continued his story. “When one of the men tried to grab it from him to see it he went mad and started swinging punches in all directions. Once he got a hold of the weapon, he aimed it at one of the privates and fired. The kid got a face full of ice and some slight frost bite but that was about it. After he fired it, the gun seemed to melt down and short out. It was then that a squad of men overwhelmed him and tied him up in once of the storage tents. When we questioned him he was hysterical and on the brink of blacking out.” “What did you get out of him?” the man in the aviators asked. “Most of it was nonsense. He began slurring German and spouting numbers. The platoon interpreter said that he was looking for someone, a scientist. He said it was his mission to locate him. He gave us a code too, Ohio93. We tracked it hoping to find some German outpost in Europe. It came out to some indistinct location in the Pacific.” “Indistinct?” “The location turned up on an unmarked island off the coast of the Philippines that we never thought existed.” The Scientist shook his head down at the broken piece of weaponry. So many years of progress lost because of one man’s misuse of the weapon. It had been fired far more times than is should have before being recharged. It would take decades to reverse engineer a working version of the gun, and years after to produce enough to arm a nation. “Give me a few minutes to talk to him,” the man in the sunglasses requested. “And have someone get in that room and get that bag off his head.” Light flooded Dempsey’s eyes as a young man ripped the burlap sack off his head. Before Tank could get a good look at the man, he was out of the room and retreated behind a steel door. In front of him sat a large metal table and beyond that lay a large mirror. Great, Dempsey thought, another one-way. A PA system switched on with a cool and calm voice speaking over it. “Dempsey… You’ve got quite the record. War hero, Marine recon, all around badass. You know, you have a lot of bad marks on you right now. Assault of an officer, going rogue, resisting capture, collaborating with enemy forces. How does it feel to know that Germany just surrendered? After everything you’ve done, it was all for not.” “Damn proud,” Dempsey replied, “I hope they got everything they deserved and more.” “Good,” spoke the man on the PA. “Dempsey… What if I could make all these issues go away for you, have you prove your innocents? Would you do it?” “What at you getting at?” “Dempsey… You don’t remember what you did back in Germany do you?” Tank couldn’t remember anything. His entire memories felt like one grey blur. He knew everything important of coarse; his name, how to breathe, chicks he’d once known, and exactly which armpit his Metal of Honor was stashed in. Other things though like his friends, his family, and former missions just weren’t there. “That’s what I thought. You went MIA on recon mission to retrieve a high value target in Berlin. You went missing and were assumed dead. We know you Dempsey, you’re no double agent. Prove us this. The German’s did something to you. Now that we’ve got you back, everything should be fine. That’s why we need you to do this for us. We can’t pinpoint the exact location where you were headed before we knocked you out and flew you back to the States, you wouldn’t give it up. But it’s all in your head.” “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” Tank hollered. “We know! You couldn’t remember if you tried, but if you search for it you will find it. We want you to follow you instincts and find out whatever you were sent to get.” “So what, do I get my own fire team?” “Better. We found this man passed out in some bar in Berlin. We believe he has the same ‘disability’ as you. There have been others like you, but we still don’t know what it is they do to soldiers to change them. We’ve found this man hoping meeting him will bring back any memories of your imprisonment.” Immediately the steel door opened it, causing a large Russian soldier to stumble out and across the room. With a few broken steeps, the Russian staggered over to the steel table and took a seat. “So,” Dempsey began, “Who is this?” The Russian stared back at Dempsey in disbelief, as if insulted by the question. “Comrade!” the Russian began, “How could you not remember me? I save your life, have you forgotten?” Dempsey suddenly remembered the man. It was the Russian that helped him escape the German facility! The memory of that day began to return to him. The smoke, the fire, and the insane occupants who formed an uprising ageist the guards all began to flow back to him. Dempsey needed only to peer deep into the Soviet’s eye’s to see the dying flame of the man he once was, turning away only to keep himself sane from the madness that dwelled within the Russian’s soul. What was one a well built muscular soldier was buried somewhere underneath the sad little fat man that sat before him. It was as if he had just given up on living. His once barrel-chested figure had gone soft and his dashing good looks were obscured by poor hygiene and an overbearing smell of alcohol and aftershave, which was hysterical when coupled with the face that it appeared that he had not shaven for some time. The soldier pulled out a brown knapsack from behind him and set it on the table. He then pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of vodka. Slowly, his poured a glass and set it one the table in front of Dempsey, then taking the entire bottle for himself. Dempsey graciously accepted the peace offering. With once hand, he slid out his combat metal from an obscure location and used it to fray the rope that bonded his hands. Once the rope finally tore, he balled up the used rope and through it at the mirror in front of him. Behind the mirror, the man in the sunglasses flinched as it struck the glass, the returned to Tank’s dossier with disbelief as Tank outstretched his hands to grab the glass that laid in front of him and take a shot. As the two traded bottles and glasses of vodka, the man on the PA began to start talking again, his voice cracking a little as he did so. "Stalin himself cannot stare Nikolai in the eye, no one can. For in his eyes you see the soul of a man burning with a hatred of all things living. His closet is full of skeletons, many of them with the flesh still attached. Before the war, Nikolai quickly made his way up through the party ranks by killing the next man in line, and by marrying politically. His aspirations all came crashing down after his fifth wife mysteriously died while cleaning Nikolai’s axe with her neck. Little did he know that she had been sleeping with a high ranking party official on the side.” Nikolai chuckled to himself, to which Dempsey responded with a half-burp-half-vomit of vodka and a nod of respect. “After her tragic demise, Nikolai’s reputation spread quickly through the party, and it wasn’t long before Stalin himself had heard about the psychopathic politician who killed anything that came within 5 feet of him. As soon as the war started, Nikolai was dropped at the front line and forgotten about, where he wallowed in self pity and Vodka for several years. With many weapons in his arsenal, not least of which is his breath, Nikolai Belinski can look death in the eye and say 'I know you'.” You could almost hear the thump of Nikolai’s dossier hitting a table as it was thrown down. There was a long pause before Tank spoke. “So,” Tank began, “How’d you find him?” “After the Battle of Stalingrad, Stalin needed to find some way of getting rid of Nikolai before he himself fell prey to his… diplomacy. He sent him on a suicide mission to invade German territory by dropping him out of a plain directly over Berlin with nothing but a Ppsh-41 and three mags. Needless to say, he went MIA. That’s when we found him drinking in some pub outside Berlin one week ago, telling stories of his ‘adventures’. We found out everything he knows for the price of a drink and some patience. He spoke of the facility and of American Marines being there. He’s been taking up residents in the barracks here even since, least until he can remember more about that day.” “You know,” Nikolia spoke as he took a swig of vodka, “Some drink to remember, some drink to forget. I drink to remember what I’m trying to forget!” “So Dempsey, it’s up to you. Freedom or prison?” Dempsey hesitated, then boomed, “I’ll do it.” “Good,” confirmed Mr. Shades, “Before we send you in, you’ll need a guide, and I think we know just who to find.” Chapter 4 7 hrs After Exact Location Still Unknown Suspected an Unmapped Island outside the Philippines Dempsey and Nikolai Dempsey road on a low floating sampan almost gliding over the fogged river that hung below. The heavy swarm of insects created an entire veil themselves, reducing visibility to no more than 50 feet. The wooden structure of the boat would confuse any unwanted enemies into thinking that it would not be a threat, resulting in the last mistake that they would ever make. Underneath one of the boards was a Browning Automatic Rifle attached to a mount that could be removed, resulting in both a heavy weapon and light machine gun all in one. The other half of this cloak-and-dagger machine was the brainchild of fighter pilots and naval officers alike. The engine of a Corsair had been modified to fit a boat’s propeller, effectively giving the fragile looking craft massive amounts of throttle, so that if the firepower couldn’t save them, the horsepower would. Originally developed incase an invasion of Japan became necessary, the project was scrapped once it was found that Japan carried little rivers capable of making use of this craft. It sat unused for a year before the “Pibbler” was finally passed on to Dempsey and his team. Nikolai sat in the back of the craft controlling the engine as Dempsey oiled his pistol. Occasionally a sound in the distance would cause Dempsey to look up from his weapon and scan the horizon for a sign of activity. Most of the time, it was merely a branch falling in the water, or a crane flapping it’s wings, however, through the buzz of the insects and the peeping of the frogs in the swamp, all the sounds began to sound alike. Nikolai seemed to have fallen asleep minutes before, because with one loud snore, he woke himself, causing him to flail around in the boat for a few seconds before remembering where he was and relaxing himself to drift back to sleep. Eventually though, signs of settlement in this seemingly inhospitable environment began to appear. To there left caught between two trees was an old abandoned boat. It sat half half-submerged in the malarial water netted in place with several feet of fishing line the cause many decaying fish to get caught amongst the wreak. After another few minutes, the two came across a small sleepy village in these waters. The village sat hanging directly over the swamp suspended on wooden platforms. There where roughly four huts that made up the village; a store, a fishing hut, a large communal living quarters, and a tea house. Small children played amongst the docks as the men of the village crowded amongst several packed together groups of canoes that the fished outside the swamp. Outside the village trade hut an elderly woman sat next to a cart. The cart appeared to be made out of finely made cherry wood. On it were several candies and fireworks on sale for merely pennies for the village children. On of the children ran over to the elder and handed the old women a coin. She then turned to her cart, turned a dial on the side three times, and the cart came to life as large music box. The eerie high tone of the box seemed to animate the swamp as weeds swayed in the wind, boards holding the huts creaked under the tides, and the mosquitoes buzzed overhead. Within a few seconds, Dempsey’s boat bumped into to edge of the docks. He turned to Nikolia. “We have no idea whose side these people living here are on, so stay with the boat.” “Da,” Nikolai confirmed, “You can rely on me Tank!” Right, Dempsey though, leave the all time perfect nap spot to the drunk while you walk off for a few minutes. Still, he had no choice. Where these people working with the Axis? Did they even know about the war? Dempsey didn’t like leaving many things to chances. As the front of their wooden craft bumped against rickety docks Dempsey flicked a silver coin to the young man who watched the boats. The boy tilted his straw hat back far enough to let him make sure there was a decent amount of payment, and then tucked himself back under it to lull himself off to sleep. As Dempsey passed the many villagers amongst the docks, an underlying feeling filled the air. It was as if the tired village had suddenly been suppressed by some dark evil that took hold of the land. The elders eyed Dempsey and pointed towards him with whispers and quivering fingers. The younger children sprinted over to Dempsey and began to poke, prod, and tug on him as if to confirm that he was real. The seemingly youngest in the group was kneeling over the edge of the docks splashing around the bog with his hands outstretched. Immediately, his mother lifted him up, struck him, and began shouting at him. Why would that woman be so cruel to her son? A girl no older than seven gripped to Dempsey’s boot, hugging him as tight as she could. Tank tasseled her hail and sent her off to her parents. He then turned to then elder at the music box and began questioning her. “Hey,” he began rather forcefully, “If someone were to crash here for a meal, where would they stay?” The old woman just looked back blankly, more confused than ever. “Right,” Tank gripped, “No English… I forgot… Um. Tea. Food.” He made childish motions to imitate drinking tea and slurping noodles. “Where?” he asked. He could here the giggling of the far off children who were secretly watching him. Grumbling to himself, Tank awaited an answer. The old woman nodded, and then motioned to a large wooden shack across the way. Dempsey gave a short and stout bow of respect before pressing on. He wasn’t big on the whole oriental culture, especially when it caused half the men he ever knew to be killed before his own eyes, but when so far behind enemy lines he could afford to be his old gung-ho self. As his passed the surgeon’s hut three waterlogged bodies hung outside. The former Japanese Imperial Army soldiers now merely hung on meat hooks. Their entrails tangled from their split open chests and hung to the floor like some demented form of decoration. Doctors in large plague masks stood by them, removing various organs and tossing them one by one into the sea. As Dempsey passed the three bodies, a vile chill rushed over him as the three corpses’ glowing eyes traced him as he walked past. They did not utter a cry or resist the experiments, they merely wreathed upon their crucified post, sending out dry wheezes and low moans that proved to Dempsey that the surgeons has clipped their vocal cords so that they could speak no more heresy. A large sign written in Japanese was hammered into a post adjacent to the dying men. The words decoded in Dempsey head, though not like the painful refocusing that happened when decoding German. It came in shape jagged chunks that lacerated all other though processing in his mind until it crystalized into one clear image. Remember what we are fighting for! As Dempsey entered the teahouse as small young woman donned in a beautiful violet dress approached him and gave a bow as if to welcome him in. Dempsey grunted humorlessly, trying to stay focused on the mission and not how attractive the young woman was. Across the room, a young Imperial officer sat alone at a traditional table that lay flat on the ground while his shoes lay beside him as he sat on his knees. The officer wore a cotton uniform and a traditional Japanese katana that ran from the sheath on hid waist to his ankles. He sat in solemn meditation, fixated deeply on locating inner peace through offhand sips of his chamomile tea. Dempsey looked to the woman, the motioned to the officer, as if asking for approval. The woman bowed in acknowledgement and walked off, her half-buttoned kimono trailing behind her. Dempsey sat before the officer who didn’t even flinch while Tank did so. “Hey buddy!” Tank hollered, “I need to talk with you.” The Imperial merely sat in his meditative state without any notice. Right, Dempsey thought, etiquette. Man, and here he though the Japanese where hard to sneak up on. He fell backwards and began to unlace his boots. With one off he pulled on the other with all his might before his left boot finally released, sending him (do pardon the pun) ass-over-teakettle into the table behind him. He hoisted himself up with a few curses, and then began sitting the way the officer was sitting. That was when Tank noticed that the boy was young. Very young. I didn’t look a day over nineteen. As Tank sat waiting for some sort of approval, the young man drew in a large breath, inhaling the many scents of the teahouse. Another large shard of memories nailed Tank’s frontal lobe. Something was nagging him at the back for his mind. Slowly, words flowed from the young man’s mouth like ink over a crisp sheet of canvas. “So,” he began, “I spare your life, and now you dishonor me with you presence.” Suddenly all of the glassy shards of Tanks memory collided together to allow him to see the man in full view and memory. This was the face of the man who had attacked him in the German prison! Instead of being enraged or nervous, Tank almost bellowed a laugh in front of the soldier. “God damn!” Dempsey muttered, “Those egghead spooks never mentioned that it would be you I’d have to find!” The former soldier Takeo Mitsuki sat before Tank with little amusement on his face. He lifted his tea and took a long slurp as he awaited some sort of retribution from Dempsey before Takeo cut him in two. Tank saw this and places his words into careful order before continuing. “Alright then, so you’re living in some swamp outside Japan… could be worse.” No reply. “Anyway, I have a plan. You, me, the Russian you met, the Germans did something to us, and whatever caused it is somewhere around this swamp. My government told me of some ninja that could lead us through this swamp.” “Samurai, I’m a samurai, not a ninja.” “Whatever… The point is, for one reason or another, we’ve crossed paths again, and as luck would have it, I want to team up with you. When you fought in the labs, that was some heavy stuff! Look… this is crazy. You would be going against your homeland, your emperor! But this isn’t about the rest of the world. My government wants us to bring back whoever did this to us and fucked with our heads alive… But I and you both know that if I have a shot at revenge, I’m taking it. Can I count you in?” Takeo paused for a minute, then spoke, almost as if he was in slight pain. “Come,” he said, “I must show you something.” Takeo set a fistful of silver and a sixth-pence coin on the table for the family that lived in the house then began to walk out with Dempsey. They walked across the rickety docks to the center of the town square. “Dempsey-- that is the name on you uniform isn’t it? Look around. His village is far from any other civilization, a near perfect living, yet something is disturbed about the people, do you since it?” Tank could indeed feel it in the air. There was some overhanging fear in the air. He cast his eyes over to a hut. Large electric coils hung from the threshold with slight sparks jumping from them. An elderly man walked into the hut and from the other side Tank could see the man pull a leave on a fuse box and the coils sprung to life, creating an electric barrier between the man and the outside world. Dempsey’s mouth went dry as more memories flooded him. Wrong answers, shock. Not watching, shock. Escape. Shock. “Hey Tak, what’s that man doing?” “Attempting to keep the pests out.” “Hum… They must have some big fucking bugs here.” Takeo had a half-hearted laugh, then turned away. “Dempsey… We are not so different. We were both abandoned by our government. After I went missing, it seemed no one could recall who I was. When I tried to explain what I know was true to local Japanese forces, they declared it was dishonorable for me to have gone missing with a sooner attempt of escape and I was abandoned, but I am still a samurai, and I have my code. I am to defend the innocents and serve the emperor. That was when I heard tale of this town. A village of plague and darkness within an accursed swap fabled to play host to ghastly demons and monstrous machines capable of bending the power of the heavens with its depths. It is referred to as Shi No Numa. The Swamp of Death. I will help you Dempsey, but only because I feel that helping you will help me acquire my goals of finding the source of this town’s misery. You have me as an ally.” “Outstanding!” Dempsey called, “Pack all you weapons, ammo, and necessities. Let’s get ready to roll out.” Takeo ducked into a small hut and reached underneath a small bed with a mosquito net over it. He quickly pulled out a small trunk and opened it up. Inside it sat a Type 100, five mags, and an extra set of clothing. It had taken all of three seconds for him to find, and here he stood ready to move out. “Seriously?” Tank inquired, “That’s all you’re taking?” Takeo have a slight chuckle for triumph. Being prepared, it appeared, was its own reward. As the two approached their boat, Nicolai was nowhere to be seen. A quick shout for him revealed his position as Nicolai ducked out of the common hut with the young woman from the tea house wearing nothing but a silk blanket, giving Nicolai a soft kiss on the check. “Hey!” Nicolai called, “Nice to see you guys!... I think I’m going to get married. Again!” “Who is that sad little fat man?” Takeo asked. “No one, he’s just…” “What the hell Tank? We’re working with him?” Takeo, always observant, “Is that the Russian!?” Then the world move almost too fast for Tank to track. Out of the corner of his left eye, Tank could see one of the smallest children splashing in the water. As the child did so, one of the hanging bodies turned and made eye contact with the child just then, a pare of rotting hands lifted from the swamp and dragged the child into the depths. Instantaneously, the young woman screamed and ran from Nicolai’s side to the aid of the child. As she ducked her head under the docks scanning for the child in the black waters, another hand outstretched, grabbing the woman’s hear and pulling it’s shrieking pray down into the swamp before the screams were overlapped by the spitting of water, drowning her before she could be devoured by the ghouls. As ever member of the village scattered, more of the cadavers emerged from the water. They hoisted themselves onto the planks and staggered across the floor with a heavy shuffle. One ran out of a hut dragging behind it a woman by here air, screaming for her tragic fate and turmoil of her feeling ever board the tore her leg as she was being dragged and every tug on her hair before the creature hopped back into the swamp, dragging the woman in behind her. On man scooped up as many children as he could carry then sprinted into a hut and turning on the electric fence as soon as he was in. The creature on after another attempted to claw their way in before being fried from the electrical charge. The man had saved the children, however it soon became clear that the fence not only killed the creatures, but also some men as greedy adults attempted to rush in and secure their spots into huts before locking people out, making them destined to either be dragged limb by limb into the swamp by the attackers, be killed by the electric doors, or take the cowards way out by plunging strait into the water below. Outside the village, multiple boats sank with people aboard them as seemingly endless hands pulled them into the swamp through brute force. As all of this played out in front of the three soldiers, the crucified bodies wreathed and rolled, satisfied with the revenge their brothers had brought to this godforsaken village. All the mean time Tank, Takeo, and Nicolai alike were taken totally of guard. The only real way one could recall the instant shock and gravity of the situation was Nicolai. “FUCK!” Dempsey gathered his loins, and then knew what they had to do. “Get to the boat! Nicolai, start the engine, Takeo, put that SMG to good use! I’ll get on the BAR!” Takeo loaded his weapon as he said a not-so-silent prayer to himself in Japanese. For his honor, for his country, and for his emperor, these creatures will fall! With a burst of about four rounds he tore the head clean off a beast’s shoulders. With another ten shots, he painted the walls one of the huts with the blood of another demon, leaving a clear six inch wide hole through the brute’s chest. Instead of stopping though, it merely fell to the floor and struggled to regain its balance before staggering ever closer to Takeo. With a heavy hand Takeo socked the creature across the face, causing it to tumble into the swamp. Nicolai landed on all fours after doing a slight leap off the docks and onto the sampan, with Dempsey right behind him. Three pulls of the engine’s cord causing the motor to spring to life, making the boat ready for their escape. Tank pulled off a few boards on the floor revealing the classic US Army Browning Automatic Rifle the lay ready for use anchored to a pivoting turret perch with a four inch long screw. Dempsey brought the turret up, pulled back the leaver, and opened up on the village with massive firepower. The turret base offered such additional ammo that Tank could fire the weapon without sighting it, only needing to see where it stream of lead bullets where flying. Dozens of beasts encircled the boat as Takeo began to climb aboard, each of them flying backwards as a bullet would enter their chests and mushroom, eviscerating all organs inside of the ghastly attacker and exiting in a large hole on the other side. Nevertheless, every time one fell over, another stood back up. A large swarm buzzed before the three men, not one of the monsters stooping unless the machinegun had ripped them into a blob too alien to be capable of movement. The machinegun made a heavy metronome as Dempsey attempted to power through the burns he was getting from handling it and attempting to steady it. “Come on! Bring it freaks! Is that all you got meat sacks? Come at me with all you got!” With a loud pop the engine began to move the men away from the village and the abominations, Dempsey still firing in the village’s direction long after it was out of sight. Chapter 5 Upriver The troop remain quick of some time. Nobody talked, but all listened for sounds and watched for movement out in the forsaken swamp. Nobody seemed to be able to build up the courage to question each other about what had happened back at the village. Eventually, it began to eat away at Dempsey, forcing him ask. “Alright… what the hell was that back there?” Takeo did not hesitate to reply. “Onis. Dark spirits sent by the gods to torment the souls of the living. While once alive, the creatures have long lost themselves to hate, allowing it to totally consume them, just as they must now consume others.” “Monsters?” “Abominations.” “Zombies.” Immediately, everyone in the boat was struck silent as an icy wind blew. It was as if Tank had just uttered some forbidden word from a long lost time. He had not even thought about what he said. He had never heard the word before, where did it come from? He thought and thought about it until a memory flooded him. It was a candy coated memory, not a real on, as if it was inventing an excuse for speaking of this filthy word. Comic books. “Comic books,” Dempsey grumbled, “I must have read it in a comic book.” It was a lie and he knew it. He never read comic books, and he had never heard the word zombie in his life. So why did he just lie? “Bah!” Nicolai spat, “There is no way, no how this was cause by evil spirits. Maybe Russian secret weapon, da? Maybe the work of that guy Nikola Tesla, egh?” “No!” Dempsey shouted without knowing it. He had experienced these things before, he could feel it! He smelled the smoke, saw the bodies, heard the screams! Those two were their! How could they not remember!? “Agh, God!” he shouted with pain, “THE ASYLUM!” “Ho,” Nicolai began, taking a moment to set down the bottle of vodka he had been drinking, “Tank! Are you alright? You seem out of it. Hear, have a drink! Egh, on second thought, I’ll drink for you….” Tank didn’t know, what ‘ASYLUM’ meant, but he knew that that was where he had seen the zombies before. In a huff, Dempsey stood up, marched to the end of the boat, grabbed a branch off a nearby overhanging tree, snapped it off, and threw it into the swamp. Like he suspected, the branch began to drift downriver in the opposite direction of the boat. “See?” Tank began, “Everything here floats downstream. So would those zombies. You’re right Takeo, those are evil spirits, but your gods aren’t the ones doing the sending… We follow the river all the way til’ we find the source of these things.” And so they continued up the river. It was not hard for Dempsey to fall asleep. He had not slept in what felt like months. He found it odd how it was now that he began to realize his exhaustion. The metronome of the buzz of the insects and the silence his troop made as to listen for more creatures that might attack somehow calmed him. As his eyelids began to feel heavy he shifted into a good position to lay on in the craft. The last conscious moment he had before drifting off was of his shimmering Colt m1911 pistol sliding out of his hands and onto the cold steel of the boat deck. He dreamt that moment. His dreams were not those of memories or images, but of recordings and numbers. He tossed and turned in his slumber, constantly shifting his way through the files of his mind. How to use a certain weapon, proper etiquette for a German uniformed event, all of these recordings flashed in his head. Then a single file opened. The words played in Dempsey’s head, though they were not words that he had heard before. “Greetings “I am Ludvig maxis “Today is 20 January 1942 “My daughter has a dog “Its name is Fluffy “This is File 1 “For storage in the data “Servant “I trust in its success “Ho Tank,” Nicolai whispered as he prodded Dempsey awake, “Look! Over there!” Dempsey awoke in a cold sweat. No, it was more than a sweat. The rest of the boat was wet. There must have been a light drizzle. Tank looked up a Nicolai, who was promptly pointing out to a figure roughly 400 meters out. When Dempsey’s eyes readjusted to fit the overcast that the shower had come with, he noticed it was a Japanese Imperial Soldier. He paused for a second to analyze the image and saw that it was no soldier. The ghastly beast was another rendition of the creatures they had faced before; wildly deformed men who have lost all rationality as they began to deteriorate. He listened closely, and began to barely here the zombie giving off a low, infrasonic pulse throughout the swamp. The damn thing was communicating to the others in the swamp without even needing to see them. Then Dempsey noticed what he wasn’t hearing. The hum of insects had stopped, and the lack of the boat engine shocked him at first. Nicolai explained that as they began to spot more and more of the beasts, Takeo suggested that they turn off the engine as not to attract more. Most were far enough off in the swamp to float past, but the creature that sat out ahead of them was too close it ignore and needed to be dealt with. “So why do you need me to put down that maggot jockey?” “Tank, you are a better shot then I and I are too drunk to even aim. I didn’t think Takeo will do it if I ask him. That boy doesn’t get things like you and me do. He might not be too thrilled in killing his own kind, even if they are like this. Of course I can understand if a boy like him cannot be as strong as the great Nicolai and be willing to do what must be—” The cocking leaver of a pistol silenced Nicolai. The cold barrel of a Nambe pistol hovered next to Nicolai’s ear. Turning, he saw Takeo overcome with rage, staring deep within Nicolai’s soul. He then slowly and intentionally moved the barrel of his pistol away from the Russian’s head and down the swamp to line up with the zombie’s. A squeeze of the trigger, and the ghoul’s corpse sank into the water below. He shouldered his pistol before speaking. “I… Will never abandon the help of those who need it… Even if that means putting a brother-in-arms out of his misery. You remember that ‘comrade.’” He put away his pistol and lay to rest on the boat deck. For the next few moments they rode in silence, a silence that was all-to-quickly broken as the boat struck an unseen obstacle. “What the hell was that?” Dempsey asked his comrades. “It sounded like we struck something big!” Nicolai shouted. “Oh, you are simply… Damn what is the term…?” Takeo pondered, “Oh yes! Sissies, you are simply a bunch of sissies!” Takeo inched nearer and nearer to the boat. He looked over the edge to see what they had struck. All he was greeted by was inky black water lying stagnant beneath them. The boat shifted beneath them. Calmly, Takeo walked back to the spot he had been sitting in and came to rest. “I thought you were going to see what’s moving our boat!” Tank spoke. “Forget that,” Takeo murmured, “I can’t see jack.” “I’m sure you think that the informalities are clever, but we have a job to do. Now come on and help me push this boat out of what we got stuck in.” He spoke a second too soon. As soon as he lifted himself off of the deck, dozens of rotting hands lifted from the swamp, gripping the boat and pulling it into the drink, as water began to pour in, all three heroes shot up from their resting spots, looking franticly for a means of escape. Nicolai stomped upon the hands mercilessly, but as one fell back into the swamp, another shot up. He looked across the boat to his rut sack, containing his Ppsh-41 and his stash of grog. One hand shot from the water and clanged to his pack, threatening to pull it in. Nicolai felt a primitive rage build within him. Grabbing the hand, he went off on a fit of rage. “Stay away from my vodka!” he shouted as he pulled at the zombified hand. With on good tug, he felt it pull from the ghoul it was attached to. Lifting the severed arm from the water, he began to use it like a club to beat down the other creatures. But it was no use. It was a losing battle, and as more water flooded the sampan, time was beginning to run out for them. Suddenly Tank saw their opportunity. On the boat’s starboard side sat a thick vine hanging sturdily from an overhead tree. Across from that sat a mangrove that could easily serve as a platform to stay up out of the water until making landfall. Dempsey removed the BAR from its position and threw it into the brush across the way. He tapped his partners on the shoulders and pointed at the vine. “We’ll cross that one at a time, then land in the plants over there. Once you land, the water is hot lava! Don’t drop into it or something might grab you up! We’ll keep moving along it until we hit land!” Without giving the two men time to protest, Tank gave himself a running start. He leaped an easy six feet into the air before grabbing the vine, clang to it with both hands, and released at the height of his swing. One the other side, he landed on the thick branches of the foliage, completely stable upon the green algae-stained thicket that hung merely inches above the swamp. He looked across the swamp to the other two soldiers, still fighting in vein to prevent the zombies from sinking them into the depth of the swamp and into the waiting mouths of the fiends. The water beneath them churned and bubbled as the bow of the craft sank below the muck. “Come on!” Tank shouted across the swamp, attempting to keep balance on the branches he stood on, “One of you has to jump now.” Takeo looked over at Nicolai, still swinging aimlessly at the creatures as they rear there vial heads above to marsh. Takeo gripped the Russian with all his might, pointed him in the direction of the hanging vine, and then push him forward for a running start. If Dempsey had ever seen a fat man fly, it would have been in that moment. The Cossack used it powerful lags to launch him into the air a good six feet. Upon grabbing the vine, there was a loud snap as part of the foliage gave way. He fell for a second or two before the vine came to rest on the tree, allowing Nicolai to release himself at the height of his swing. When he landed in the mangrove, his heavy weight made him crash though several branches and fall forward before sticking the landing on a larger branch, allowing him to pause and catch his breath. The might Russian had made it through, and with his vodka intact! Now it was Takeo’s turn. Slowly, slowly, slowly ghouls began to pull themselves over the edge of the sinking boat. Their hideous, silt covered faces stared back at Takeo, ready to feed after a long travel down the river. Takeo glared across the boat to his briefcase. There was no time to retrieve it, he needed to escape! With three large bounds the mighty samurai flew into the air and gripped the overhanging vine. With as much momentum as a man his size could make, he set himself up to release the vine and make a perfect landing… But it was too late. Nicolai’s massive weight had frayed the already week structure. The vine snapped just before Takeo could compensate for his forward motion, sending him tumbling through the air. Tank bellowed a humongous laugh as Takeo did three consecutive, and unintended, front flips in midair. A second later, he landed on the mangrove, and flat on Nicolai’s chest, sending Nicolai backwards into the marsh. As he hit the black water, a mangrove branch slid into place, pinning Nicolai underwater. Nicolai’s drowning body flailed and coiled under the waves. Tank though quickly and used his Marine Ka-bar knife to cut off the branch that held Nicolai down, allowing him to spring back up and onto the brush. He spit three large mouthfuls of swamp water before pulling his Vodka from his pack and drinking one large shot from the bottle. He then rested and stood behind the other two as they watch the last of their boat sink beneath the waves at the other end of the swamp. “Well Takeo,” Nicolai boomed angrily, “Got something you would like to say?” Takeo stared hopelessly at the sinking sampan. “All of my stuff… was on that boat,” Takeo groaned. Nicolai took another large shot before speaking. “I hate you Takeo.”

I agree, only I think that the Pentagon thief is important to the story and the fact that they stabilized teleporting.

Thank God, I'm not the only one that noticed that! :D

Time to stick it to Maxis!

If I had to guess, I'd say Five is not related to the story as far as JFK and the others, but I do think that the teleporters and the pentagon thief apply. I think that the teleporters are a more stable version of the DG-T and are the same ones we see in the comic on NDU. The pentagon thief I do believe is a half zombified Maxis whose been stuck in another dimension of space-time, but now that teleportation is stable, he can now roam out world free... Which is very bad for us. Oh yeah, and I'm seeing green all across the active posts. YOU'RE BEING DOMINATED! TAKE THOSE POSITIONS!

The most hilarious part of all this is that me and my friend joked about Reznov being alive. Mason walks into a room and sees Reznov "OH GOD! IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN!" and runs out. Later Hudson walks in reloading some AUG and goes "... Who the hell is this!?" Mason: "... You... You see him too?" "Yup."

THAT!... Is a good point.

http://multiplayerblog.mtv.com/2010/11/ ... ack-ops-2/ The ending of Black Ops was certainly open ended, and the intel that you can collect hints toward Hudson, Weaver, and Mason going rogue to hunt down a lead the numbers told Mason to follow (a possible message from Reznov?) It also marks the team for "termination", so in Black Ops 2 you may even be fighting your own government. A lot of things happened after Vietnam, the Iranian Embassy, the fall of the Berlin was, the conflicts in Germany, and even some missions the we may not even know about. I REALLY hope there will be a Black Ops 2, however if there was, the man that plays Mason will also be working on Avatar 2 and 3, making some contract issues that may result in half-hearted dialog from Mason, or even go back into the CoD where you don't have a voice. We have three years to ponder this though, and for that time, I think Black Ops will be just fine for now!

There is a HUGE story to all of it that can't all be poster here. Back in the WaW days I was a leading researcher on it on the HQ. I suggest digging in the forums here to find what you are looking for. Believe me, it's there. S

I go right until I make it to the power, stay in the theater until my first PaP, then I go into, but no further than the alley. It helps to funnel the maggetbags.

Reserved.

MP5K and shotgun. As soon as a fire a shotgun as a primary, I can't help saying "hello old friend."

Admit it. No one in their right mind would want to watch anything with squeakers as the hosts.

Thanks man!

I'm game, but I'm making my own Machinima. Maybe we can your something out. If we act as character models for YOUR machinima, would you bother helping us?

To prove a point, I would just like to bring up how we have people with legit posts, but they become clogged with bad reps for no good reason, but when someone actually, spams, we can all say "We're just having fun." So yes, I'm giving it a negative, if only to counter the plus one that is not deserved.