September 6, 2017

2.28 am, Cancun, Mexico

“YES! I love that scream.” Mad Scientist says, “Turn up the heat slowly. I want him to suffer for as long as possible.”

Mad Scientist observes the live burning of Fire from behind the safety of the heat-resistant glass window of the incinerator’s control room. His obvious glee at Fire’s pain is unhindered by his state of chronic aches. Standing behind the wheelchair of the deranged Mad Scientist, whose laughter is like a mechanical grinding, is his Head of Personal Security, Vladimir Prokop AKA Vlad the Shot, operating the Incinerator’s controls. It’s just the two of them in the small room.

Insanity, Vlad thinks to himself with a neutral face as he observes the Mad Scientist. His eyes dart beyond the glass to the burning man in the incinerator who has stopped screaming.

To think that the General’s most respected rival would die in such a disrespectful death, Vlad says in his head. His head gradually swivels to the Mad Scientist, The General’s watching this too but I bet he’s not happy. All thanks to this disrespectful сука.

Vlad’s thoughts are interrupted by a buzzing ear radio. He listens in, his face changing to shock.

“Herr! We have a problem.” Vlad says with a subtle Russian accent.

“I’ve told you, you stupid General lackey,” Mad Scientist says, “Call me Mad Scientist!”

“Mad Scientist, there is an ongoing prison break in the women’s prison.” Vlad says.

“Then take your guards and secure my test subjects!” Mad Scientist barks mechanically.

“My duty is to guard you but I can-” Vlad begins to respond before his earpiece interrupts.

“What is it?” Mad Scientist asks.

“Both prisons are now in disarray.” Vlad responds, “We have to move before they come.”

“Are you suggesting I run away?” Mad Scientist asks, all traces of laughter long gone.

“I recommend that we abandon this facility early and bury whoever is left.” Vlad responds.

Just agree, you insane piece of-, Vlad thinks to himself but gets interrupted.

“Set the autodestruct for 2.45 am.” Mad Scientist says with little thought, “Add a drone strike.”

Vlad starts nodding but stops in confusion, asking “Isn’t that overkill?”

“Don’t question my brilliance, lackey.” Mad Scientist says, “Using their drone to strike will serve as cruel irony for those pesky Americans and their annoying toy planes.”

It will at least cover up the underground wreckage, Vlad thinks as he radios the orders.

“It is done.” Vlad says.

“Sigh, it’s a pity that I can’t check on the corpse now.” Mad Scientist says before begrudgingly turning his wheelchair to face Vlad, “Let’s go.”

Vlad nods. He reaches to turn off the incinerator.

“Leave it on.” Mad Scientist says, “No. Set it to max and leave it on. Just to be sure he is dead.”

Vlad nods, turning up the dial marked temperature.

“And cut the feed.” Mad Scientist says reaching the automatic sliding door, “Adieu, Fire.”

The door slides open and Mad Scientist rolls into a well-lit hall. Vlad sighs as he looks at Fire’s charred corpse still being baked in the incinerator. He ends the security feed and exits the room.

7.33 am, London, UK

SMASH!

The glass mug that held vodka a short second ago impacts the concrete floor, shattering.

“HE DARES CUT THE FEED?!” The General’s voice rumbles through the underground room as he stands up in force. Darya remains seated and silent, opting to let the General rant.

The guard standing at the door, the only other person in the room, gulps yet maintains his standing-at-attention stance even as sweat drips down his chin. Don’t poke an enraged bear.

“It is not enough that he disrespects a man greater than he will ever be.” The General says then continues, “He then brags like a two-bit villain, therefore, dragging us into the light.”

The General sighs, finally catching his breath. The big screen that had shown Fire’s execution by incineration still flashes a “Lost Feed”. This spacious room is the regional HQ for Skull Reich’s military activities in the UK. Large monitors hang on the walls above with many workstations below, much like NASA’s mission control room. Although it is currently deserted due to the General’s orders. This is all part of a complex right underneath the Devil’s Tears pub.

“What are your orders, my General?” Darya asks as she reaches for his hand.

The General calms down then says, “Convene an All-Heads meeting.”

Then he adds as he sits down, “For 9 am.”

“Your will be done, my General.” Darya says as she shoos the guard. The guard salutes and leaves the room, glad to not be another unwitting victim of the General’s infamous wrath.