Reuniting with the past
#6 of The wonderful misadventures of Sergei Freeman
Reuniting with the past
Six minutes until "Operation Eternal Canyon":
"So what will we call this operation sir?" asked a police officer "Operation Eternal Canyon. How long until we move out?" asked Lt. Wade. "Six minutes, sir." "I sure as hell hope that the reports of 'Special Forces personnel is true." Lt. Wade muttered. "Why sir?" 'I can't believe I might be getting saved' Lt. Wade thought. " Sorry, what did you say Constable Wilson?", "Why are you excited about the Special Forces people? It's not like you know each other!", Constable Wilson said. "Because I have hope that they're from good ol' USA!" Lt. Wade said excitedly. "What's the USA, exactly?", another officer asked. "My homeland, far, far away." Lt. Wade said sadly. "Ready to move out, and destroy all the infected clowns!" asked Lt. Wade, to his group of thirty special ops, riot police officers, and ten S.T.A.R.S. Security Services, assault unit codenamed: Bravo Team (Not to be confused with Special Tactics And Rescue Service Bravo team from Resident Evil(The other S.T.A.R.S.)). "CLOWNS!!!! WHAT CLOWNS!!! I'M AFRAID NOW!!! I WANT TO GO HOME!!!" a police officer screamed, before curling up into a fetal position and rocking back and forth (It looked funny, with her in riot gear, with an assault rifle on her back, and a riot helmet with a gas mask on under it. "Pure comedy" as a quote on SNL by Justin Trudeau. (While he was VERY drunk.)).
Other side of Eterna canyon:
"Are we ready to fight an army, in a very enclosed area, which will be like the turning point in the Great War!?" I screamed to my group of "Soldiers" (In reality, they were riot police, volunteers, special operations police, a traffic cop, a doctor, five scientists, a nutcase in a HAZMAT suit, and finally... A guy(or girl) wearing a gas mask and a cleanroom suit. The nine people in suits, were probably either the Mafia, or government (One might be Arceus actually, but, well, who the hell would the other suits be?(One might be Giratina(or others in the creation trio!))), or just executives of a local(or international) business.
"What's the 'Great War'?" Asked a scientist. "Above your paygrade... Wait, you do work for the government, right?" I replied. "No. I work for Team Galactic." He got tackled by the riot police. Best response I've seen so far by people. "At least I know how to properly interrogate terrorists. I'm going to need a pack of matches, a few cigars and a bucket of water, as well as a waterboarding table." That threat did what I've always expected it to do to "Just Cause" terrorists. "Okay, Okay! I'll tell you everything I know! But please! Don't waterboard me! The spare key to the Eterna lab is in one of the bushes beside the Eterna lab, and the password to the room containing the lake guardians, is 2436, and we're planning on remaking the universe in our image, and we have a hive mind, for all grunts, connecting all grunts with one another! Also, we've started gassing places with the gas form of XD Serum, that we bought from a black market dealer in Orre! Please don't hurt me!" It worked as usual... He'll be a target of Team Galactic for spilling their secrets. "Let me guess... You've said too-" I was cut off by a gunshot. The scientist was lying dead, with a bullet in his head. "Wow! Team Galactic works fast!" An armored cop said. 'That they do' I thought.(I like how I'm writing this sober for the first time... I don't like it.)
"As I was saying earlier, but when I was rudely interrupted, So, I'll continue, The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. So, wake up, Mr. Freeman. Wake up and smell the ashes." Arceus said, in his usual emotionless voice. "So, I guess I was right that it was you G-Man. Who are the others that you're with?" He sighed and said; "If you must know, the man with the gold aviators and black tuxedo, with the black hair with crimson highlights, That's Giratina, The man with the pearl bracelet, silver hair, and suit with magenta suit, is Palkia, The man with the five watches, fez, aviators, diamond watch, blue-gray suit, is Dialga, the man with the pinkish suit, is Mew, the man in the green bomber outfit is Celebi, the man with the grey peacoat and the fancy hat is Ho-oh, the man with the trench coat, fedora, and earpiece is one of my son's, the man in the cloak is my other son, and in the group of your 'Soldiers', the man in the tuxedo, with the combat vest over it, as well as an autosniper, pistol, and magazines is my other son Nate, and the last person, wearing the business suit with the gas mask is my daughter Clara... We're here to help. Any questions you ask, I'll try to answer to the best of my ability."I was so confused as to why a god was helping ME of all people. "Why, let alone HOW, are you helping me? I need to know." HE waited a few seconds before answering: "You may not know it, but since you, an outsider to this world, have certain traits that most people here don't have, you were affected like the 'Shadow' Pokemon exposed to the gas, but to a much lesser degree... You can use Shadow moves, and normal moves,as well as your friend Ivan. As well as one of your old counterparts. However, he wasn't exposed to the same amount the pokemon, or you." I was confused, yet again. Were there more people from "the homeland"? "Who?" I asked. All I got in response was "MARSOC." It couldn't be true. Why would a US Marine be here? "In fact, He's on the other side of Eterna canyon, right now, waiting for your order to destroy the tainted pokemon, which I surprisingly support. After all, we have to show that, we are stronger than their heartless, soulless creations. All of them have had their memories removed, and emotions disabled, by the terrorist organization." I now knew why I was here 'I'm not surprised that my work followed me. It follows me everywhere I go, like my drinking problem.' I knew what I needed to do "Let's go in. Remember, this op may involve your death, or serious injury to your body, or mind... Or worse. Last chance to step out, because we're going in as soon as the other group at the other side of the canyon acknowledges the order, or we hear fighting... Or the hostiles are spotted. Give the order over the radio. If they don't respond after five minutes, we go in, with the fact that they might be dead. Understand!" I shouted.
We waited four minutes after giving the order, to advance, without a response. Almost five minutes after we gave the order, we got a response: "Sorry to keep you waiting, but, I don't really know how to use this thing, it has so many knobs and buttons on the outside, so I asked Lt. Wade for help. Are you ready?" I replied with a yes, spoken into our handheld radio that the police had, and we got ready to fight.
Twelve minutes later:
"For a peaceful society they have A LOT of guns!" Aidan shouted. "Of course they do, haven't you seen how many guns, the kid on TV had pointed at him?" Ivan shouted back. I don't think they understand the situation we were facing right now: All of the armoured police officers were dead, all special operations police officers were dead, the two traffic cops were dead, so... All people (other than us) trained in combat, were dead. We were almost about to meet up with the other side's group, I can just feel it in my bones.
"I see a Bisharp! I'll take it on myself!" I said as I pulled out my combat knife. "Okay! You do that! Don't fuck it up Sergei!" Ivan shouted back.
One minute later:
I could see nothing but the bastards crimson eyes. The fight lasted another two minutes. Two minutes of both warriors stabbing, slashing, and parrying, with no remorse in my enemy's eyes. I wasn't just a warrior, I was a soldier, a rifleman, who was fighting with a knife against an enemy who fell into the category that was one of the twelve banes of my existence. An enemy that doesn't tire... an enemy without reason... an enemy without common sense, or value of life... I could use the second last one to my advantage... At least he wasn't a cat... Or truly ALIVE! At least he still had some characteristics of being alive... A sense of awareness... One that a living Bisharp would have.
After another thirty seconds I had a plan, although it was relatively shit, I just needed an opening... A few seconds later I just got said opening.
The Bisharp slashed his blade at a downwards angle, so when I blocked it with my knife, I had to do it with two hands. It also hurt slightly, because I had my left hand on the back end of the blade. I pushed upwards swiftly, and threw my knife in the direction of the swing. Both of us watched the knife, my knife, fly around fifteen feet into a tree trunk. While both of us were staring at my throw, I slowly, pulled out my USP and shot the Bisharp in the side of the head... While the two of us were staring at the tree, I was staring at it as to not look suspicious, he(or she) was staring at it to see if it was a trap... But it wasn't a trap coming from that angle. 'Poor bastard... Even if it was trying to kill me, it still was doing it against it's will.' I thought.
Twelve minutes later, we came to the other group of "Exterminators" as a doctor called us. I noticed something was off with a certain one... Not only did he have an American accent, he was wearing, an old US Marines uniform. "Are you the Marines I was told about?" He asked me. To piss him off I asked "What's a Marine? Is it, like, a fish?" He sighed and muttered: "I knew it was too good to be true. I'll never be rescued... At least I have a massive source of income to keep me afloat." I knew he was an actual, legit American. "Sorry, we aren't 'Mericans, we are JTF2 though." He seemed awestruck, because I didn't seem to know what a marine was, but I referred to him as a 'Merican. "Why did you say 'Merican?! Are you special forces? From the homeland?" I nodded and said yep. "Although I am from Canada, I do have Russian ancestry. You're definitely an American. Are you hiring?" I asked softly. "For somebody from the Homeland, I'd do anything. I'm guessing that the Irishman, who's wearing a kilt with his uniform, as well as the other Russian is the remaining members of your squad?" He stated. "Are you a trainer? I see you have, not only poke balls, but also grenades painted to look like pokeballs on your belt." I nodded and asked again, if we could have a job. He nodded and asked rhetorically, "Well, if I didn't give former anti-terrorist military personnel, jobs as security consultants, who would I hire?"