Story Battle(1)

An Inch "This way, John," said the General, his mouth a grim slash. John narrowed his eyes and studied him curiously. He knew when the General no longer called him "Mr. President" or referred to him as his superior, then something was brewing; however, his thoughts were quickly dispelled from his head as the two men rounded the corner. There, several meters ahead of him and hanging on a banister, was the most beautiful flag in existence. This, of course, was simply a matter of opinion. Other leaders of the world would view this flag to be the most despicable thing on earth and would wish to tear it apart with their bare hands, but not John. He always enjoyed watching the number or stars proliferate in the top left hand corner. For several years, there used to be 50 stars, but now there were exactly 100. The president, swelling with pride, saluted the flag, as did the General. Then both men rounded yet another corner, their black shoes echoing in the empty, narrow hallway. John studied the checkered floor beneath him, watching it pass as his steps carried him closer and closer to their destination. Microscopic cameras followed their progress, and then both men reached the end of the hallway: an elevator. John stepped inside first, and the General followed. The second their feet touched the ground, sensors evaluated the dust particles on their shoes to determine where they had been and who they had come in contact with. Several more cameras, invisible to the naked eye, scanned both men and checked for any weapons. The General, clearing his throat, said aloud, "Code Red, Ground Level". A small panel slid open, and the General placed his thumb on it. Should any other person have attempted to do this, several thousand volts of electricity would have coursed through their body, and they would have died instantly. The General, however, did so without incident, and the elevator began smoothly moving downward. He shifted uncomfortably under his superior's gaze and looked down and coughed. "You, you . . . what happened," John stammered, his face as pale as chalk. The last time he had heard those words, "Code Red, Ground Level"--well, he would rather not think about it. When the General did not answer, he raised his voice. "Willis, answer me!" "You'll see soon, John," and Willis briskly walked out of the elevator. John, used to having his orders carried out immediately, watched Willis dumbly as he walked away. A million thoughts raced around in his head, but John knew he had to remain calm. Whatever was happening, he had to keep his professional status as the president. Breathing in, he walked past sliding doors and found himself in a huge room. People were bustling about and machines whirled and hummed. He quickly found the General and grabbed him by the arm. "General, enough of this nonsense! I want answers, now," he said. Now that they were surrounded by people, he had to refer to Willis formally, and vice versa. "We received this several hours ago, I think you should see what it says," Willis said, handing him a slip of paper. John studied it, and with each word his face grew paler and paler. He looked up and said, "But . . . but . . . we've . . . . this is ridiculous!" he stammered. Willis nodded and said, "What more did you expect? They make nearly everything we sell, they have the largest population in the world, they're surpassing us economically speaking for God's sake! It was only a matter of time before they decided to declare war on us." Several other men listening in on the conversation nodded in agreement, but John suddenly rounded on Willis. "Why was I not alerted earlier? You should have told me sooner!" he said angrily. Willis, however, had a ready excuse. "Sorry, sir. They've been tampering with our communication systems, and we had no way of reaching you. They've also been interfering with our technology, and we have reason to believe they have infiltrated our computers and possibly this building," Willis said. "Well, then. Hit the fail safe button. That should shut off all our systems so they will no longer be able to survey us," said John. He nodded his head toward a large, black button just an inch above a larger, red button. Willis, however, was already shaking his head back and forth. "It's too late. They've tampered even with that and reprogrammed it so it's a self destruct button. If we press that, then we're all going to kick the bucket," Willis said gravely. Everyone took a nervous step back from the black button, as if simply standing in its presence would activate it. At that precise moment a black clad figure brandishing a pistol burst into the room. There was a second of shock as everyone attempted to register what just happened, and then the strange figure managed to squeeze the trigger once before he keeled over with 20 bullets in his chest. Breathing hard, Willis put his smoking pistol back in his pocket, as did several other men. He looked down, already knowing what he was about to see, but still was shocked at the site of it. John was lying in a pool of his own blood. "****," Willis shouted as he rushed forward and tore his friend's shirt open. There, directly an inch below his heart, was a small bullet. Willis breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive, but just barely. Willis got up and barked at several men, "Get the president to the emergency room, pronto!" "Yes sir!" they shouted, and quickly retrieved a stretcher. Willis nodded approvingly, and directed his attention toward a young man who seemed to be in his 20s. Willis studied him sadly, knowing he was too young to participate in a war happening so fast. "Young man, I want you to check the alarm button and make sure they haven't messed with that too, understand? If it is, then press it immediately and get out of this building," Willis said. Then, seeing the young man opening his mouth in protest, he said, "For God's sake, man! You aren't a soldier, you’re a technician! Do as I say, that's an order!" The young man nodded sullenly and began rapidly typing away at his computer. Then Willis got several of his best men and said, "All right, follow me!" They all nodded and proceeded to follow Willis out of the room, but the building suddenly started shaking violently. Several huge chunks of stone rained down upon them, and a particularly nasty one missed his nose by an inch. Willis jumped back in shock, and found that some of his other men were not as lucky as he was. Swallowing, he repeated his order and noted with satisfaction that John was already being hauled out of the room. He quickly followed the president with his men behind him, and shot yet another black clad figure. Willis cursed again under his breath, "****! They're already entering the building. Come on, let's hurry!" At that moment, the young technician crowed with joy. The button still worked! He pushed past several people and rushed over to press the big, red button. But before he hit it, the building began shaking violently. The young man raised his eyebrows in shock and a small "Oh" of surprise escaped his lips as his hand moved just an inch above the red button, and then he pressed downwards.