CHAPTER 7: Jackal

Midnight walked down a long hallway that shined with the glare of a metal-colored, plasticky substance, with two guards following behind him. Echoes of a ravenous, blood-curdling scream boomed throughout the place, the sounds bouncing off the vibrating walls, creating a chorus of grief and anger. Multiple solid doors with shutters covering a small, clear window dotted the hallway, with row upon row of them extending endlessly into infinity. He stopped at the cell labeled 1108 and stood there, his face as serious as could be. He opened the shutters to the window, revealing a man in a unique-looking straight-jacket. Midnight reached down and pressed the button to a voice box on the side of the wall.

"Jackal, we need you to comply with our requests. You will be going with them now." He said in a soft but emotionless voice. Jackal howled with rage and sorrow, his voice reaching through the glass and into Midnight's soul.

"HOW DARE YOU, you bloody psycho! Why? Why did you kill them all in that way? My brothers… they did not deserve tha-"

"THIS IS WAR! People die, people bleed, families are broken, children are orphaned, economies collapse, people starve! You should have known! You damn fools believe that you are invulnerable just because you became stronger. Your own recklessness caused your brothers' deaths. I know war better than you. It is not a fight of who is stronger, but who is more keen, more resourceful, more willing to best the others' savagery. While you sat with your brothers, using your size and strength to your advantage, I was out there, alone, with everyone pointing their guns towards me. I had to think for myself, act for myself, and overcome by myself. You may have trained, but did you put your life on the line every single day you did so?" Midnight yelled at the voice box. He took a single, aggravated sigh and continued back in a semi-calm tone.

"If you want to save more of your brothers that will come here to fight me and the TA, then help us! We are trying to negotiate with Moneyman's Brotherhood to back down from assisting the Ethiopian military. We need you to help us do so."

Jackal went from sobbing and angry to laughing madly within a second.

"There's no way you'll be able to get Moneyman to relent. Once he accepts a job request, he will not back down. That is the pride of the Brotherhood. You may have been able to kill my corps, but multiple stronger corps await you. They only sent me because I happened to be close to this area. But there will be men as iron-willed and iron-blooded as you in them, and they won't go down without a bloody fight, I can assure you that."

"I will ask them nicely but firmly one time. If they refuse, then we will crush them until they flee or die." Midnight spoke in a loud, clear whisper. He took his finger off of the voice box button and stormed off. His eyes glared with the tint of frustration and sorrow, and his teeth bared out in disgust. How many people... Midnight thought, will have to die before that purple-eyed, silver-haired monster is satisfied?

The long, thin, silver-colored band extending two-thirds up Midnight's forearm started vibrating. He tapped it, turning on a clear screen that extended across its surface. A call from OMA. He clicked, and OMA's voice emitted from the band.

"Midnight, get prepared. We will raid the next supply line in a week. Meet with me in the Main Room on Tuesday at nine AM for a briefing." he spoke

"Understood." Midnight said simply, concealing his emotions. OMA hung up, and Midnight took a deep breath. He decided to fiddle around with the band, to see how to work it. He went to an e-document and waited for a keyboard to appear on-screen. Nothing happened, except for that a red light started shining from the band on the inner part of his forearm. It took Midnight a few seconds to understand what this meant, but as soon as he did, he placed his hand on the wall. A laser keyboard revealed itself on the wall, and Midnight stood there, amazed. His curiosity satiated his burning mind. He tried typing a sentence, and it worked without flaw. He looked up at the options button placed on the corner of the screen and pressed it. There was a good variety of different toggles and whatnot, including the option to display the keyboard on-screen like phones usually do. He switched to that mode for accessibility reasons. Midnight also tested out how it would flex with his body. It bent and fit to his body like thick spandex, which he thought was satisfying. It even felt like fabric, smooth and breathable. Midnight was interrupted by a young man walking closer to him from behind. The blonde-haired boy shouted at him to slow down. Midnight stopped and tilted his body, waiting for his contracted subordinate. The boy caught up with him and started talking.

"Do you think we can spar later? I want you to show me how to escape that chokehold you did on me earlier. You already promised me you would show me how to dodge tank rounds. Come on, let's go!" Alwin spoke in an energetic, fast-paced voice.

"We can get to that later. I'm pretty busy." Midnight said, starting to walk again. Alwin casually performed a spinning flip over Midnight with Olympic precision, halting him in his tracks.

"Whatcha workin' on?" Alwin said, Midnight now growing slightly annoyed. This brat thought Midnight. He knew first-hand what a monster Alwin was, despite his cheery personality and child-sized body. Alwin was the only one that he had seen in combat that could best his speed and agility, though he had no defenses or hardiness to back him up. His body was small and slender, built on speed and speed alone. The power of a special type. There were only six special types within Midnight's corps of two-hundred and fifty that he had loaned off of the TA. The GMH's were beasts, but the specialized GMH's were the intermediates between the power of an X unit and the power of a GMH.

"I need to get the Brotherhood to relent somehow. I've already asked the prisoner, and he's not willing to cooperate. It seems that battle is no longer optional. We should have spared them." Midnight answered honestly.

"And risk them knowing about the ace up our sleeve? Not a chance. Once the first corps that Moneyman sent saw them, their fates were sealed. We wiped 'em out before they could even radio in. You gotta admit, those things make our job a hell of a lot easier." Alwin said in a rather arrogant tone.

"I suppose you're right. They were the ones aggressive to us first." Midnight said, his eyes drawn to the floor. "Anyways, now I've told you. I need to go down to logistics, get out of my way." Midnight walked past Alwin, who stood there a few more seconds before leaving to do his own preparation for the upcoming battle.

Midnight stood there, performing a quick count of the food and water rations as well as ammunition and combat armor. The logistics officer reassured Midnight that all of the supplies would be enough. He had a strange feeling about the upcoming attack on the supply lines, as he had anticipated that the Brotherhood had their own forms of intelligence gathering. They would most likely be there, waiting. He had just hoped that one crucial detail remained hidden. He turned and took a trip down a short black hallway, with a large, solid steel door. Protection against any non-GMH intruder. He put his band up to a small thin box with a milky white color on the corner of the wall, and the box lit up green. They unlocked, and he swung the extremely dense doors open with ease. It feels good to have both hands again Midnight thought. The doors opened up to a huge garage facility that was made up of a scarlet variant of the plasticky substance. Bright white lights striped the walls of the room, giving the vehicles inside a beautiful luster. There in that room sat six long-range anti-aircraft guns attached atop six tan tank-like vehicles. Since the TA would intentionally not use any aircraft during their next battle, due to all of the TA's combat aircraft residing in other nations' Headquarters(each outpost was mostly responsible for itself unless a state of emergency of declared), the tanks were opted to autonomously shoot anything flying within fifty kilometers of the area with a laser whose power and range the world had never reproduced. It even had a large rapid-fire weapon in case anything opposed it on the ground. There were also two hundred and fifty black box-shaped apparatuses that were stacked on top of each other in storage. They were ACI units, the reason why the TA was able to win an overwhelming victory against Jackal's corps. Men were loading these box-like contraptions onto a massive armored truck. Finally, there were large but lightweight mortars that calculated the trajectory of their shot, displaying it on a camera screen, giving the bombs deadly accuracy. And this wasn't even getting to the handheld weapons. The TA may be a group of mercenaries, but they had fought for themselves and won against the nations from years past. It seemed like they had kept all of their toys. If we end up losing a lot of these weapons, I'm going to be in one hell of a debt Midnight realized. Another call shook Midnight's arm, and he answered quickly.

"All Plagues and Midnight, report to room 226. Jackal has relented. Negotiations will start shortly" The emotionless voice of a woman rang out loud and clear from the band. Midnight turned back towards the exit, quickly scanning the white box once more. Here goes nothing Midnight thought. After navigating the gray hallways, he turned and entered a medium-sized room painted white that blended with the hallway's colors rather nicely. Midnight looked upon the restrained, kneeling Jackal, no longer wearing a straight suit but was cuffed hands and feet with a solid rounded chunk of metal and a piece of cloth gagging his mouth. The restraints were locked to the ground with thick chains comprised of a metal that Midnight assumed to be stronger than steel. Anything less would be insufficient against a GMH. Midnight looked at the man, his eyes overly observant on the other figures of the room. He's planning something… Midnight inferred. There were seven people other than him in the room, the lady who spoke on the phone just a moment ago, and six others standing there, waiting to see if he would try to escape. These six people were the most dangerous assassins the TA of this country had to offer, the Seven Plagues of Ethiopia. It was now the Six Plagues, all due to Midnight. William Barasta was dead. The woman positioned the camera on its tripod to point right at the Jackal, with Midnight standing beside him. The lady notified that the camera would go live in 1 minute, so he bid his time, bouncing up on the front third of his feet, his hands crossed at his waist. The five seconds heads up came, and Midnight stopped moving entirely. Why was he the one who had to do this? He felt like he was back at a difficult job interview. The woman hit the start button, and Midnight spoke loudly and precisely for the camera to pick up.

"Hello, this is Moneyman, I presume?" Midnight asked

"No, this is Dominos, how may I help you?"

The voice was distorted by a voice changer, but the accent and the bad joke made it unmistakable. Definitely Moneyman... Midnight thought. He was told this man had a "unique personality", but this was just insane.

"Jokes aside, let me hear my boy, I want to ask him how he's doing. Just seeing him ain't doing any good" Moneyman said, the comical element in his voice disappearing.

"Sorry, Mr.Moneyman, I cannot do that for you." Midnight said, trying to keep information tight on the ACI units.

"I see, how disappointing. So, how much money are we talking about here? Last time you guys called, you only offered me a fraction of what I want."

"Does eight billion and a hostage release sound good? That's as high as we can raise"

"How 'bout this. You give me all of your guys' money, weapons, vehicles, and the clothes off of your damn backs. Oh, I've got a good idea, WHY DON'T I TAKE ALL OF YOUR DAMN SOULS AS PAYMENT. You slaughtered my sons, so I'll be doing it twice over again to you. You go take your damn selfish asses and go burn in hell!" the voice shouted furiously. At the exact moment Moneyman finished his verbal onslaught, Jackal bit through the thick cloth in his mouth. He quickly opened his mouth and shouted something.

"ROB-" his voice was cut short as a thin black rod shot straight through his jaw, unhinging it on one side and coming out of the flesh gap behind his chin. Blood leaked out of what remained of his mouth, and pitiful gurgles emitted from Jackal's throat as he choked on his own blood. Jackel squirmed in the restraints, wanting more than anything to get a breath of precious air. Midnight stood there for a few seconds, the dark, black rod extending out from his skin. He turned his gaze from Jackal to straight through the camera as the pillar melted into a liquid that somehow managed to stay connected and airborne. He withdrew this liquid-like substance back into his body through his skin. Without losing eye contact with the camera, Midnight walked closer to it, a deathly glare in his eyes.

"Well, shit. Thank you, Moneyman, you and your subordinate just threw negotiation out the window. Miss Kayla? Turn it off." With the click of a button, the feed cut. Midnight walked up to the wall and dropped his head on it, sliding down slowly as he breathed out the words "Damn it. Damn it all." Midnight heard the phrase "He's useless now." coupled with a loud, echoing gunshot, causing Midnight's ears to ring. He quickly turned his head around to see what happened. Jackal sat motionless on the ground, a bullet hole through the side of his neck, penetrating his jugulars. Blood spilled out at the feet of the attacker, adding to the preexisting puddle. The man was crouched right above him with one of the special TA pistols in-hand.

"What is wrong with you? I didn't say you could kill him. He would've survived and regenerated if we hooked up an IV to him." Midnight said, his frustration and anger growing by the second.

"That would take too much effort and supplies. We're saving all of our injectable nutrients for the battle, we have none to waste on this dog" Chandler said in a low, scornful voice

"First of all, he's no dog. He is a man. A man who has a family, friends, passions, thoughts, dreams, and possibly even children. A man noble enough to risk certain death for his cause. You are not killing one man. You are killing many, all of whom are different in their own right." Midnight spoke to Chandler in a growling voice. "also, I am in charge of you for the time being. I have hired you. I expect you to act on my clear instructions to minimize the killing of any people when it is not necessary, as per the contract. This was a clear breach thereof. Do not do something like this again."

"Understood," Chandler said, Midnight still glancing at him. To this, Chandler replied.

"I see those eyes, If you think what I did was morally wrong, then think about it like this. This man killed multiple TA members before we killed his group and captured him. I find this unacceptable. I have my personal reasons for that, too. I know pain, Midnight, and pain has hardened my judgment. When I was a child, life didn't come easy for me. I was twelve when my father killed himself, leaving my mother and I with too little money to support both of us and her addiction. One night when I was fifteen, she told me to get out and go find a job. But this country had already been in a bad state for a while. Hundreds of people, sometimes thousands, applied for one job opening the second it opened. I was forced to survive off of pickpocketing locals and visitors alike. I made a wrong move just one time, and they caught me. All of my crimes came back to me and slapped me hard across the face. I was jailed and labeled a thief and a lowlife. But it wasn't my fault. What choice did I have? I was wasting away in my cell when OMA came for me. He offered me a redemption, a rebirth. I would be given a new name, a new body, a new purpose for my life. He was my saving grace, and I will always do everything in my power to assist him and my fellow TA members. I will kill, lie, cheat, steal, and terrorize if it's to protect just one of our lives. When I see that man, Jackal, I burn with rage. How dare he come at us, killing those I love. I don't care about your policies or Tangente's policies or money. I wanted to put him down, as soon as I had a valid reason to."

Midnight and Chandler continued to stand in silence as the cacophony of clashing wills echoed throughout the room. The two couldn't make eye contact anymore. The awkwardness was only increasing, so Chandler thought it would be a good idea to go out of the room and avoid any further confrontation. When he left, Midnight took a deep breath and looked at the other Plagues. He opened his mouth slightly to say something, but it took a few seconds for him to muster the courage to speak.

"So… are you guys all prepared for our next mission? It's going to be difficult, very difficult." Midnight said, changing the topic.

Alwin looked around the room at the Plagues, and attempted to break the silent atmosphere with a bright, enthusiastic response. "Yes, sir! Gun: check! Armor: repaired! Morale: pretty damn high! For me, anyways. C'mon guys, stop looking like you're dead inside! Be energetic! Be active! Live a little!" He vocalized, his talk giving the conversation something to spark from.

"I'm prepared, as well. We're almost through this. If we can get to the supply and weapons line before the other corps do, we will have the decisive advantage. As soon as we are prepared, we cannot drag our feet! And after this, straight to the capital! " Annalise said, her voice changing from an elegant, empathetic voice to an enthusiastic, determined one.

"I'm not prepared, and I never will be. We're gonna be fighting more of those superhuman gangsters. That will be terrifying! We might die! We might get hurt! But I'm the only one here sane enough to realize that, I suppose..." LeRoy rambled on, his voice and hand gestures odd and anxious. He had an air around him that made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe, like he would snap at any moment. The way his beady eyes darted around with the glare of paranoia made Midnight want to crush his skull right then and there. This man would brutally and messily kill his opponents while wearing a fearful, desperate face, even though the fights were always in his favor. And the way he laughs euphorically as if to release tension after he kills them was the icing on the cake of dread. But at least he was a strong fighter loyal to the TA, so all Midnight could do was bear with it. Another one of the Plagues, a woman with short braided black hair crossing her arms utted a simple "Shut up, LeRoy, and yes, I'm ready." This woman was named Julia, a calm, intelligent person who was the most picture-perfect assassin of the Plagues. Finally, there was Brandy, who only nodded his confirmation of preparedness. He was quiet, but also the most observant of the Plagues. Midnight activated the cleaning bots, and took the body outside for burial. How long will this war take? Will I be able to maintain good relations with the others? Oh, that's right. I need to apologize to Chandler. He seems like a bit of a Gangster, but he's a reasonable man at heart.

Midnight traveled in a TA vehicle until he saw a barren, orange-floored forest bordering the Highway, which he turned into. After going through the forest some ways in, he stopped it and got out, making sure no one was following him. He took the body bag out of the back seat, and started to work. The black liquid extended out of his arm, this time hardening into a wide blade, thinner than a razor. He used a swift bit of acrobatics to get to the top a large tree and cut all of the branches off as he descended back down. For the trunk, he put more mass behind the blade and downed it in two hits without using much effort. He then shaped the black material into intricate little tools. Without him moving a muscle, the black matter got to work on the trunk of the tree. Within minutes, a kite-shaped box was carved out, and Midnight was putting the final decorations on the casket. Beautiful swirling patterns embellished the surface of the wood, marking its completion. He gently laid the body in the wooden box, and created a thin bulldozer-sized shovel. He grabbed onto a tree to plant himself to the ground as he penetrated the ground and heaved to dirt out of the way. He looked for one last time on the maimed face of Jackal. Tears welled up in his eyes, as his emotions caught up with him. He wept. For Jackal, for his brave men, and for all of the people he had killed thus far. He wanted to ask for their forgiveness. Forgiveness that he knew he wouldn't receive. He closed and buried the casket, eventually carrying a large stone to the place where Jackal lied. He craved big, proud words deep into the massive rock. HERE LAY JACKAL, A TRUE MAN OF BRAVERY, HONOR, AND SACRIFICE. He stared at the rock for a while before making his way back to headquarters. This was the first body he ever had the chance to bury.