Marc Farrimond

John Carter stood looking through the immense window, hands clenched behind his back, his mind seemed be elsewhere. In front of him the city of San Dorado stretched out like a living, breathing creature, with a mind of its own. The second largest city ever built and the home to the Capital Company here on Mars, it sprawled in every direction that the eye could see. Vast spires and buildings rose from the very bedrock like tendrils into the violet-tinted Martian sky, millions of untold souls lived here and the man knew that he must protect them no matter the cost.

The man sighed and felt his shoulders sag slightly, his brow lined with worry as he contemplated the upcoming meeting he was about to undertake. A knock at the door brought him crashing back to reality and even slightly startled him.

"Enter!" He said without turning from the window. The door opened and a young woman came into the room, her reflection cast in the window. The man felt his stomach tighten as he caught a glimpse of her reflection and clenching his fist a little tighter he turned on his heel.

"Captain Barbara Carter reporting as ordered Sir."

Motioning for her to take a seat, the man walked around his desk to the large leather chair and sat down himself. The young woman waited till the man was seated before taking a seat herself. She looked pristine in her immaculate uniform, and sat with her arms neatly folded on her knees. The man looked across at the soldier, her face was delicate and looked slightly out of sorts in a military uniform, with rows of medals and ribbons adorning the steel grey material. Clearing his throat a little he looked her directly in the eyes.

"I won’t beat around the bush with you as this is far to important an issue. I need you to go on a mission of great importance to Capitol and needless to say it will be far from easy."

"We have a problem and it needs to be addressed as soon as possible or the consequences could have repercussions that will last for years. Tell me Captain are you familiar with Akira Tso of the Mishima Corporation?"

Carter nodded her head and sat a little further back in her chair.

"Good. Tso has become something of a thorn in the side of Capitol and needs to be removed. I want you to go in and do the job as quickly and quietly as possible. We do not want to start another confrontation with Mishima so you will be going in alone. I will be honest with you, the chances of you making it back are slim at best, but you must succeed in your mission no matter what the cost. Do I make myself clear?"

The woman nodded her head in agreement and stood up to attention as the man began to rise from his seat. She saluted him and he gave her a very weak almost pathetic smile, and looked into her deep blue eyes.

"Good luck then Captain. Dismissed!"

The woman walked out of his office and he stood motionless over his desk till he finally slumped back down into the large high backed chair.

The helicopter skimmed across the barren landscape of the Martian desert, its contours smooth to reflect any attempts to detect it by an enemy. A small hatch opened on the belly of the sleek craft and a single darkly clad figure, emerged and slid silently down a wire to the floor below. Once its passenger was safely away the craft turned, gained in altitude and vanished into the violet-coloured night sky.

Moving quickly across the expanse of red sand and beginning the climb up the rocky outcrop. The parade uniform gone now, replaced by a body hugging one piece black jumpsuit, which clung to the woman like a second skin, her long black hair tied neatly up in a bunch out of the way. Shortly she reached the summit of the outcrop and pulling a pair of small, yet very powerful binoculars from a belt at her waist she surveyed the area.

A couple of hundred meters away was her target, a beautiful building in the traditonal style of a Japanese pagoda. It was a retreat that Tso used as a home from home. Through the binoculars she saw sentry guards in front of the large building. Watching for a few moments studying the movement patterns as they went on a regular tour of the building. Timing the movements and working out a plan of entry, Carter’s concentration was broken when she saw a hulking machine stride into view.

"Damn a Meka!. This is going to be a lot harder than need be!" She watched as the tall humanoid shaped robot walked past the sentries and stood in the centre of the forecourt. Over ten tones of metal and armed to the teeth, this was more a walking tank than a robot. Truth be told it was in fact a mobile suit of powered armor, with a human pilot. Nonetheless it was something to be wary of and Carter made mental notes about the Meka’s weapons configurations.

A few moments later she was nearing the perimeter of the estate and with a much practiced ease she threw a grapple over the high wall and within seconds was on the other side. As she landed Carter drew her Punisher side arm and flicked off the safety catch and stealthily moved into building .

Moving cautiously and using whatever shadow and hiding place she could the lithe young woman advanced. Tso would be on the second floor if the report was correct and she would have to get past his honor guard, men hand picked for their skill at combat and their loyalty to their master. The inside of the building was extremely beautiful.Very large hallways and high ceilings filled the place and soft, gentle music wafted through the air like water in a bubbling brooke.The pristine white walls where lined with murals and paintings. Carter deftly ran across to the other side of the hallway and froze in her tracks as two guards made their way in her direction.

Raising and firing her pistol at the same time, she shot one of the guards in the head sending him flying backwards from the impact. The other guard reacted a lot quicker than she thought he would, raised his own Windraider pistol to let loose a volley of fire in her direction. The bullet from Carter’s Punisher ripped through the mans throat and exploded at the back of his head. Moving over the dead bodies, Carter felt a sharp pain in her side and as she placed the palm of her hand on it, the material, wet with her own blood.

Ignoring the pain she drew the other Punisher from her hip and began to run full tilt down the corridors. The element of surprise was lost completely now. At any moment she could be tracked down by the ruthless Mishima troops and decided, that if she was going out, then it would be on her own terms, not theirs. Bounding up the narrow staircase two steps at a time, Carter hit the top step and dived to the floor, as a hail of gunfire rang over her head. Rolling on her side she let her own weapons speak for themselves and returned fire onto her unseen opponents. From behind one of the paper thin walls a streak of red appeared and began to slide its way downwards, leaving a wet trail of blood soaking through the screen.

At the far end of the room as a large ornate looking door, behind which Carter knew her quarry was.

The doorway burst open as two men dressed in Samurai armor came rushing out of the room. Both were carrying lethal looking swords in one hand, while the other held a Shogun rifle in the other. The ornate blue costume they wore instantly told her that they were Hatamoto, the elite guard of the Mishima and devoutly loyal. One of them, charged head-long at the woman and she side-stepped him letting him sail past, completly missing her. The back of her fist found the centre of his spine and with a forceful blow she sent the men sprawling onto the floor.

The distraction worked for as she was turning back around the other warrior hit her on the side of the head with the edge of his sword. Hatamoto are very honorable and to kill a foe who has their back turned is against all that they believe.

Carter reeled from the blow and span around to face her assailant. The man’s face was hidden behind a ceremonial mask and showed no emotion whatsoever. The pain in her side and the throbbing in her head made Carter feel dizzy and faint, but she fought against it as the warrior came towards her, his sword at the ready. The pistols she carried fell to the floor as she readied herself for the attack. The warrior used the sword as an extension of his own arm and sliced at the injured woman. She tried to jump back from the blade, but it nicked her and she could feel the coldness of the steel below her breast as the razor sharp edge cut through her jumpsuit. Using the man’s own arm as a fulcrum Carter span around and with a loud sickening snap, the arm broke at the elbow.

Carter span around again and her leg extended, caught the man full in the face, making him lose his balance and go sprawling backwards. The man’s helmet flew off and beneath, his face was contorted in pain. As he clambered to his knees Carter brought her foot down hard onto his head and the man blacked out. Bending down she picked up his weapon and made her way into the room beyond.

The room was very ornate and filled with artifacts that belonged to another more noble age. Busts and statues of jade and bronze lined the room, and other objects that Carter could only guess at the value of. At the very far end of the room sitting behind a large desk, was a very small and frail looking man. His face was kind and gentle looking but his eyes had the look of a man who could kill without mercy. On front of him lay a small silver tray on which two small delicate cups and a china tea pot were neatly placed.

"Ms Carter won’t you join me for some tea?" the man has a passion in his voice, almost melodic in its charm. Carter looked at him and as he raised his face he smiled at the young woman.

From somewhere behind her Barbara Carter heard a mechanical whiring noise and felt the light in the room darken as something large stood in the doorway. The metallic sound of ammo cases hitting the floor was the last thing that she ever heard.

The secretary handed a small brown envolope to John Carter and left the room. He opened it with trembling hands and read the contents. Sighing he closed the envolope and placed it into drawer; then reached over to the intercom panel on his desk.

"Miss Johnson, hold all my calls and cancel any appointments for the rest of the day!"

His head cradled in his hands he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Reaching down into a drawer in the desk he pulled out a large leather bound book and began to flick through its faded pages. Images of himself at play and rest with a small girl gleamed back up at him. He turned the pages and came to a photograph of a young woman wearing a Capitol military uniform standing at his side. His fingers traced along the contours of her face and he felt a pain in the very pit of his soul. Sighing he closed the book and placed it back into the drawer; then reached over to the drinks decanter that lay on the desk and poured himself the first of many drinks he would have that day. Sometimes the price of freedom is questionable.

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