The flames from the Type-3 mesmerized me for a few moments. This day was becoming the third-worst event of my life.

Losing my friends and family. Carmen, my parents. Harvey, Cheryl. I nearly lost Candice. My own life.

Bangkok was a close second. The crazy 48-hour disaster that was fit for a movie. Two city blocks collapsing as five different factions ignited and then exploded. I was involved via sheer bad luck.

Raccoon City was now looking like my new third place. This dislodged the disastrous escort mission across Czechoslovakia where rebel Pokolistan attacked the convey. Fifteen dead because of bad intel provided by the VIP.

Even now, a decade later, it left me bitter. I learned that day to never trust intel unless we vetted it first. Hard lessons for any military group.

Who knew what the casualties were at the moment. Sue was the most probable person as she could access each soldier’s vitals, but she had other problems to deal with. Namely, the Type-3 lashing out against my newest Scopedog power frames.

The Type-3 roared as I watched it slowly regenerate its skin. The napalm was hot but overall ineffective against the monster. I got unsettled by how ineffective our weapons were. This was the best we have, and it was not enough.

I was glad I had the square evacuated beforehand. Humans and fire did not mix well. This Type-3 seemed to be the exception. Though I was certain that it would not be uncommon to encounter more of these. Time had a way to humble any man, woman, or beast.

What we needed now was more time. The research was already on its way to the new age of Val Verde. We just had to produce the rest of Sue’s test types, refine it, and then deploy it.

“Candice, please drive us to the Umbrella lobby,” I said as I got into the passenger side.

The woman looked at me. Her helmet prevented me from seeing her face, but I could feel her judging eyes.

With an N2 mine, it didn’t matter if we fled or not. It could ignite in the next minute. Which meant we would die regardless of all but one option. An option I was going to use up to save us all.

The warthog roared to life as Kara hopped onto the rear platform. She was looking better now that she had a few minutes to soak in the sunlight. Lucky alien DNA that enabled her to be solar-powered.

Candice drove around the five-on-one mosh pit. It would take longer, but safety first.

I grinned at my joke. Safety in a haphazard circle lined with literal fire. Val Verde’s Workers Association of Health and Safety would have words with me. The commonly shortened name, WASH, took its job seriously.

The Type-3 roared and began charging away from the Red Guard?

“Is it me, or is it charging at us?” I asked as my grin slowly froze into a grimace.

“Detour!” Candice screamed as she slammed her foot onto the accelerator.

I felt my stomach drop, and then skid as we took a sharp left turn, and I felt my side of the car lift.

I grabbed onto the holy-shit-handle and definitely did not scream. Maybe a Leader like battle cry? Yeah, let's go with that.

The warthog balanced eventually out. I felt the car jerk as we stabilized and zoomed down the empty street.

The Type-3 roared as it chased after us. I frowned as the thing was practically leaping after us. I could see its shadow with every jump.

“How do you think it sees us without eyeballs?” I asked as I tried to think. Candice didn’t deign to answer me.

We needed to circle back, but I also needed time to enact my cunning plan. Or rather, my desperate plan. How best to adhere to it, though?

My mind shifted as I felt the car shake. A finger had touched a corner of the car, rocking us. The Type-3 could kill us with little effort, but so could the N2 mine. The Non-Nuclear part wasn’t joking about the yield.

The development of the N2 mine was a mixed bag. The upside was a diminished destruction force across the land. That and no radioactive fallout, which was always a good thing. The bad was it was still a weapon of mass destruction.

The enormous boom still vaporized everything within a kilometer of ground zero. Then the heat ignites everything within two kilometers. A shock-wave would stretch across ten kilometers.

If this was the typical N2 mine, that was. There were several types and who knew what was at the center of the town’s most prominent business. For all I knew, it was the super high-yield type and would erase the city from the mountainside.

With my luck, it probably was. What I was certain of was that this was a cleanup bomb. Clear out the city after they showcased the terrifying might of this new bio-weapon.

“Kara, please use low-power laser vision to annoy the Type-3. We need to make sure it follows us. Candice, we need to head back to the town square,” I ordered as I hoped that the Red Guard were still all alive and functional.

“I need Captain Cuvie,” I said out loud as I held down my throat communicator.

“Captain on the line,” a support man said from the Mansion’s HQ.

“Supreme Leader,” Captain Cuvie greeted as he grimaced at his Scopedog’s reduced speed. The fight had damaged some speed function in the foot system. He was cruising along, but he would unintentionally obey speed limits.

“Captain, if you are following us, then stop. Regroup in the Town Square. We will lead the Type-3 back and hopefully into a trap,” I said as I stared at the side mirror.

The Type-3 hopped into focus and then fell back as we speed forward. Light beams of red scorched its chest, and it somehow roared.

I frowned. It had no visible mouth. Didn’t this piece of BS already break enough rules? Wasn’t I already dealing with enough shit today?

I calmed myself. At least it couldn’t get worse than an N2 mine. The only thing worse than this would be its detonation.

All of my worries seemed distant. Years of commanding the Jade Falcons had taught me to compartmentalize the emotions I didn’t need.

Yet I couldn’t help but lookup. She was up there. Safe for now.

She needed more time.

[Crash!]

I felt my life flash before my eyes. A car smashed directly in front of the warthog.

Candice shifted her foot. She worked both the pedal and the breaks. Her skills allowed the vehicle to drift around the wreck. The warthog then spun around twice, seemingly out of control. It magically righted itself, as we had successfully not died, and kept on moving.

I looked into the rear mirror and watched as Kara fired off the spare pulse rifle. Kryptonian abilities enabled her to become a frightening marksman. It must exhaust her for taking part in a prolonged fight. I was sure most of her encounters were quick, dirty, and destructive.

I frowned at the sight of her using a gun. She would normally refuse it, but situations are always about making the best of bad choices.

I saw Candice nodding as she drove. She was probably spoking with her support person. Hopefully, they knew where we were going. I could feel the time ticking down.

The world shifted as we drive and merged onto a roundabout. The large traffic circle allowed us to turn and keep us in the Type-3’s sight. Or whatever it had to sense its uses.

We did confuse it as it slowed to a stop. It had entered the middle grove of the turnabout. Bushes and flowers decorated the central hub of Raccoon City’s downtown traffic coordinator. We had to go around twice before it seemed to catch onto us again.

Candice thoughtfully slowed down to allow it to follow. Kara’s heat vision and pulse rifle rounds helped it refocus.

The Type-3 was now no longer burning, though the bushes and flowers were less lucky. They now were sporting a slight issue of being on fire. Was that fire growing?

I grimaced. That centerpiece looked well kept, and now it was going to get a surprise makeover.

The Type-3’s head limb picked up another car and threw it. The truck sailed overhead but luckily missed us by a full lane.

The Porsche it hit was not as lucky. The pickup truck crushed it with a loud crash and I smirked. I never did like Porsche. The design was a little too dainty for my tastes. Though the banana yellow was eye-catching.

The Type-3 charged after us. Its focus was on Kara. I was sure of it now.

Was it the Kryptonian energy? DNA? I was curious, but I doubted if I ever would find out. Or rather, I hoped I would never find out. Not if it meant putting her in more danger.

Though as the Supreme Leader, I had to shoulder the burden of leading men to battle. Such dreams of peaceful resolution could never be realized. Humans were far too foolish when they could order strangers to fight on their behalf.

Nations required power, and others would always test that power. Just like this. No asked for bio-weapons to get unleashed. No one sane, that was.

I watched Kara threw the gun at the Type-3. Must have run out of ammo. Her aim was true, and it bonked off the chest of the Type-3.

Kara’s good nature was deep and true. It was exactly why I had joined the military for Second Service. To protect those truths in Val Verde.

I nodded back to myself. We were almost back to the starting area. Where, as I hoped, the Red Guard sprung their trap.

The world opened up as we entered the square. The Type-3 rushing blindly behind us. Thus it vanished from sight as the Red Guard lifted the thick cable up and tripped it.

Turns out that having no eyes and focusing on the ‘prey’ didn’t help it against surprise military hellos. The Type-3 got immediately attacked by three waiting Scopedogs.

Candice drove into the lobby with a grin. I was smiling as I could now get off this death trap.

————

Chapter 39: Military Surprise