Stranger Aeons: The Armed and Thinking Men

By Jave Harron

The Rio Flow

Brazil was both an interesting and tragic country at the same time. It's got a lot of interesting history. They're almost self sufficient with energy, using ethanol to produce most of their fuel (since the eighties). Of course, as an exhaustive crop, they had to cut down more Amazon rainforest to get more land. But still, they had a unique ecosystem within their borders, and were arguably the most powerful nation in South America. Unlike their neighbors, they spoke Portuguese instead of Spanish. If Brazil could get their act together, they could easily become an emerging regional power, if not a superpower at some point. They already had an aircraft carrier.

But, there was a dark side to Brazil as well. Christ the Redeemer needed to give out a whole lot of redemption here. A lot of the wealth in the country was so unevenly distributed. We could see that much as we flew into Rio de Janeiro. Downtown was all sleek skyscrapers and ornate beachfront hotels, while the nearby hills were covered in favelas. The favelas were essentially improvised shantytowns without much in the way of water, hygiene, or security. I had seen them in plenty of photos, documentaries, and movies. They were full of drug gangs and crime, and were places even the cops feared to go. (Here, interestingly, the favela dealers often feared the police more than the gangs.) Given the police van they used to enter the favelas looked like a pitch black tank, there was little wonder.

For this job, Hyun and I decided to pose as tourists. Paz and Granger would be driving around in a rented car, waiting for our signal. The plan was to find our target, and interview them. We also had some local help, a Network-friendly mercenary going by the handle 'Kimura.' Hey, it was one of my favorite submissions in grappling, so hopefully, he wouldn't be too bad. Granger had arrived before us, and gotten a room, rental car, and weapons already. From the looks of it, he also had set up probably the best local guide the Network could hire.

One thing I have to say about Rio is that parts of it can be downright dangerous. The sleek, clean Twin Cities were heaven compared to just a few blocks from the nice part of Rio. After we got off our plane, we met up with our contact, who stood in front of a waiting taxi. He was a tall, tanned man with jet black hair grown down to the back of his head, sunglasses, khaki shorts, and a colorful button down shirt. He looked more like some hippie throwback than the hardened mercenary we had read about. Some of the stories about what this guy did are so warped, it would probably make the Brigade sick. Still, this was the man who killed the founder of the Brigade, the person who used the handle Atlas.

He tapped a bugle under his shirt, showing a Taurus Judge revolver. I could see a Taurus Millennium Pro .40S&W automatic pistol was also hidden there. He removed his sunglasses, revealing Asian features. He seemed to have both Latin and Asian heritage. Then again, most people in Brazil were a combination of natives, Europeans, Africans, and even some Asians (especially Japanese). The Japanese community here was the largest outside Japan. Perhaps that's where he had some heritage from? Either way, I didn't care about that. I cared he would be able to take us to the part of the favela to find the contact we needed.

So, why were we here in Brazil, especially with the Retrogressors based around Japan? As it turned out, Harumi's rant and outbreak had seemed to prove accurate. That Imperial Japanese unit, 161, had indeed been stationed in the Philippines. A number of Japanese soldiers from that unit went missing, presumably victims of the guerrillas. However, a few of them learned the local dialect, and lived in a remote part of the Philippines. One intermarried with the locals, and moved abroad with them to Brazil. In his youth, he went by the name Hideo Toru. He was a attached to a logistics brigade during the war. After the war, he went by the name Bernardo Fernandez. He lived isolated from the significant Filipino population in the city, isolating himself in a favela. He left a trail of some sort behind him, which meant the Network had been able to track him down here. How they found a man who had vanished after World War II, I have no idea, nor do I really care. Perhaps a relative or descendant of his was a Networker. All we wanted to do was interview him, or if things were dangerous, take him back to our safe house.

I approached the man known to us as Kimura and started talking. “Hey there,” I nodded to him and mentioned his alias. “Pablo Gomes?”

“Jason Christopher?” he asked back with a slight accent. I guess I liked my false names to have my same initials. He turned to Hyun. “Kwang Park?”

We both nodded. “Know where are target is?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Now, get in the cab. Our driver’s one of us and can’t understand what we’re saying, so don’t worry too much.”

Hyun and I climbed into the back seat of the taxicab. Kimura climbed into the front. The driver pulled away from the road, and we headed into the city. Kimura tossed a blue duffel bag into the back. “Your stuff’s in there.”

I pulled out my USP Compact, this one my .40 S&W one. I would need some stopping power in these slums, especially given the very real possibility of a drug-fueled attacker hitting us. As much as I hated to go into a crowded urban area with non-Morphium rounds, these were still able to kill. They weren’t our tranquilizer darts, but they were rubber bullets. Hyun had a DH-40 with him, the DP51 variant chambered in .40 cal. While .45 ACP rounds were effective at stopping power, they had a lot of kick to them. While some found the .40 S&W round to be “short and wimpy,” a few in the right place could make all the difference. It was better than a 9mm. One other advantage was if an attacker was on drugs, a Morphium dart might not affect them as intended. So, for this, Hyun and I were using special baton rounds that were less likely to kill. They still could, but were less likely to penetrate. Kimura had begrudgingly agreed to use the less-lethal rounds, but only if he could take some backup. Can’t say I blame him, given where we were heading. But for lethal purposes, Hyun and I had both brought blades.

“Can you tell us about Hideo Toru’s location?” I asked. “Like where he is specifically.”

“He’s a widower who rarely leaves his house. Paranoid old bastard, and no one's seen him for a while. Well, I can tell you he’s in a favela more dangerous than most warzones I’ve been in,” Kimura turned his head back towards us and grinned. “Too bad you guys aren’t going in heavy. This would’ve been a great place to do it.”

“I’m normally the team’s pointman, so I’m no stranger to CQB,” I shrugged. “Besides, going in dressed like commandos would scare our target away. Or draw unwanted attention from the gangs.”

“A good idea,” Kimura grinned. “If they suspected you were cops, they’d waste no time in breaking out their heavy artillery. AKs, M16s, pistols, and a few heavier things. You’d be surprised what you can find illegally here. A police helicopter was brought down by one of the gangs recently, and the cops always come in with enough firepower to take on a small army, since they normally have to.”

Outside the cab’s window, the area around us was getting progressively less shiny. What were sleek skyscrapers were being replaced by tenement apartments. On a nearby hill, the gritty splendor of the favelas grew more apparent. If only Paz had desired to come here, that P90 of hers might get some good use here. But she had wisely decided to act as support for this job with Granger. Hyun, Kimura, and I pulled out headsets from the bag. We adjusted them.

“Home, this is Retrieval Team,” I said. “Do you copy?”

“Roger,” Granger replied. “Extraction operative on standby.”

“Kimura confirming,” our guide spoke over the headset. “Neat gizmo. Hopefully, we don’t get shanked for it.”

“So, where’s our guy live?” Hyun pointed to the hill. “Somewhere up there, right?”

“I’ve got a few contacts up there,” he pointed. “If not for them, your old man would be as good as lost. He lives up the hill, in a white shanty.”

His finger pointed towards the top of the hill covered by the improvised dwellings. The buildings were all small, squat structures built on top of each other. Some were made of hardened mud, others were made of bricks, some were made of corrugated steel, and some were even made of cardboard. The streets were tight, winding, and narrow. A few small bikes, motorcycles, and small cars were positioned around the narrow roads of the slum. The awkward positioning of buildings made the favela resemble a pile of some sort rather than a “real” neighborhood. Many were put on top of each other. However, it was home to countless poor people, caught between the battles between drug gangs and police. There was a single white shanty that jumped out at me, nestled between a decrepit stack of small dwellings and a cardboard lean-to.

“You know, sometime this century, most of the world’s population’s going to be living in a city, so better get used to urban combat,” he grinned. “But you guys know how to navigate this sort of place?”

“Not very well,” I replied. “I added some parkour and obstacle course training to our standard routine, but this looks like hell of a place to try it out.”

Kimura suddenly pulled out his cell phone and checked a text message.

“Well, that might be our fastest option for getting up there,” he grinned. “Roll down the window, and you should hear why.”

Hyun rolled down the window a crack, and we could hear the echoes of distant gunshots. Kimura looked at us and grinned. “Two local gangs just started going at it. Might have the cops rolling in if things continue to escalate.”

“Can’t we just climb up the woods around the favella, and get up that way?” Hyun suggested. “It may take longer, but we’ve got less chance of getting shot.”

“Nah, don’t work that way,” Kimura replied. “Those hills are covered in soft mud, and the drug gangs still have sentries out there. And if they don’t, some of the wealthy neighbors have guards patrolling the edge of their properties for trespassers. Their trigger fingers get especially itchy if there’s a gang war nearby. A lot of them are foreigners interested in living nearby for whatever fucked up reason. They and the wealthy both want the cheap labor, but hate the favelas being so close.”

“How about just driving through?” I suggested. “Those roads look narrow, but there has to be some way to get one of those small cars.”

“Cars tend to attract bullets,” Kimura continued. “They might think it’s another gang rolling up with reinforcements. Besides, even armored cars need protection out here. Even a few bullets can utterly fuck up a regular car.”

“So we're just going in with pistols, knives, and light Kevlar vests?” Hyun added. “And we'll have to find our way through a gang war?”

“Yeah,” Kimura replied. “I'll have the driver drop us off as close as he can, and I know some backways through the favela. That way, we can avoid some of the fighting.”

“Remember, Kimura,” Hyun added. “Try using the rubber bullets as your first line of defense. We don't want a trail of corpses leading in our direction.”

“That won't happen,” he grinned wickedly. “But a few quick things. We should try to stick together. If we get separated, we'll have to meet up there ourselves. And trust me, in these slums, you do not want to get separated.”

The cab drew closer to the favela. Around us, there were ancient brick tenement apartments. I had some difficulty gaging the distance up to the white shack, due to the nature of the place. It was like MC Escher and Oscar the Grouch had designed a city block together. The cab pulled off onto an unpaved street in front of a mud home. I could hear the gunshots echoing. Ahead of us, there was a narrow, winding “street” with gunshots and shouting echoing from around a bend.

Kimura, Hyun, and I each ensured our weapons were in our shoulder holsters. I felt my Cold Steel Kobun tanto clipped to my belt. I was ready to go. I nodded to Hyun, and then to Kimura. “Lead on,” I told him.

Kimura definitely was a fairly experienced traceur. Whether he knowingly practiced parkour or not, I could see he was adept at moving around obstacles in a quick and efficient manner. I saw him put his foot onto a window ledge, and then use it to jump up and pull himself on top of a single story shack. Hyun followed him, using his foot and hands to pop himself up unto the roof. I was last, and I could see a strange look of a person staring out the window as my foot kicked up and off his windowsill. I moved my body out and up a bit, and then pulled myself up.

I could see that on the roof, Kimura was already running. He darted towards the building next door, running across the corrugated steel roof. He came up to the edge, and threw himself into a precision jump. He lifted both of his hands up as he brought both of his legs into his chest. He didn't have enough height to carry him directly to the adjacent roof (which was slightly elevated above the current one). He landed on the next rooftop in cat position, which meant he he hung from both hands with his feet pressing against the wall. He quickly climbed up on top of the roof, and slowed his pace slightly to wait for us.

Hyun jumped next, performing a running jump with his right foot pushing off. Hyun almost smashed against the wall, using his hands to lift his chest up. He lifted his foot to get back up. I was the last one to run across, and I managed to precision across but land with my torso up. I quickly lifted my leg up to pull myself into a crouch, then ran after the others. Kimura was now climbing up a wall of open windows, using the makeshift bars in the windows as an improvised later. The side of the building he was climbing was rather wide, with enough room for each of us to go up separately. As I pulled myself up the metal bars, I could hear surprised voices shouting in Portuguese, as well as the sound of something crumbling. Obviously, each of the window bars could not hold our weight for long, so we had to keep scrambling up fast.

The climb itself was only two stories above where we were before, but it seemed to take forever. My upper body was exhausted, and I could see Hyun too was sweating. I could see our guide Kimura's shirt and skin were also slick with sweat. He looked down at the slum beneath us. There was a one story drop onto a metal roof. Not wasting any time, he ran forward and jumped down. He landed, going down on his knees, but kept moving forward in a rolling motion. He then jumped onto the narrow street, and ran up towards a metal chair propped up against the wall. He used the chair, and then a low window, to climb onto the next roof. He crouched down, and waited for us.

Hyun and I followed him, albeit a bit more slowly. We both just hung down from the top story, and released our grip to land more slowly. We both darted across the lower roof, and then carefully leaped onto the gravel “street” below. The gunshots were getting louder, and shouting could be heard. Hyun used the chair to push off and inelegantly scramble up for the top. While he used the chair, I tried a standard wall run instead. I ran up to the structure's wooden wall, and pushed up. I grabbed the roof, and then yanked myself up using my upper body strength. I was so high on adrenaline, exhaustion didn't seem to matter any more.

It was then a gunshot rang out, and I heard yelling in Portuguese. I quickly glanced around, and saw a bullet hole in the wall where my legs had been milliseconds before. I rolled onto of the small roof in stomach-down prone position and pulled out my gun. I trained the USP in the direction of the shooter, and instead heard another, closer gunshot. All I saw was a dead body, a fallen man with a hole in his head and the pistol he had just shot at me with earlier. I looked up to see a grinning Kimura, holding his smoking Judge revolver.

“Keep moving!” he shouted. “His friends know we're here now!”

More people appeared from around the bend. They held rifles and pistols in their hands, so it was time for us to move. Kimura darted behind several sheets hanging from a nearby clothesline. Hyun and I fired off a few rounds blindly over our shoulders, and then followed Kimura behind the sheets. I raised both my hands in front of my head and dashed straight into them. Around us, bullets began to whiz. As I barreled through one of the sheets, and emerged on the other side to see another drop. Hyun and Kimura were already at the bottom, each with their pistols out. I dove down and could see why. Both of them were taking cover behind an ad hoc cinder block wall. They were back at street level, with more men holding guns and shouting.

I took some wild shots at them as I joined them behind cover. The beaten gravel path lead ever-upwards towards our destination, but gunfire echoed around a bend. So, we had hostiles behind us, and probaly many more in front. Some of the buildings around us towered several stories, and others were more of the squat-single story dwellings. It was possible we could dart across the street to the next set of low rooftops, but we'd have to move fast. Even a determined foe with a nine-mil handgun could shoot through a cylinder block wall with enough time. (Or more a pile of them in our case.)

“How about there?” I pointed to the nearest low dwelling. A small green compact car was parked nearby.

“You guys keep going!” Kimura said. “I'll cover your rear! Don't worry about me!”

That was all the prompting Hyun and I needed. Kimura took a few shots with his revolver, and then switched to his automatic before running into a nearby building for cover. Hyun and I took advantage of the chaos to dart up the other way. The gangsters up here had not seen us yet. I decided to lead this time. I ran up the hood of the car, and did a running jump off of the top onto the nearby single story roof. I pulled myself up from cat position when the other group of gangsters finally made it around the corner.

Hyun jumped from the car at the exact instant a shot rang out. I could see Hyun clench his teeth, and head face first towards the building. He braced his hands for impact, but I could see a group of gangsters making their way around the corner. Hyun lay prone on the ground, now with his pistol drawn against the gangsters. Quickly, I noticed that three gangsters had guns, one held a bat, and two had knives. It was time to get into some close combat. For now, I held the high ground.

“Shoot the gunmen first!” I shouted.

Hyun put three rounds into a man wielding an M4. He doubled over in pain as I spent the last rounds of my magazine on a man with a PT92 pistol. Quickly, I reloaded and saw the mob was backing off. The remaining gunman seemed to be a leader, and the three melee-weapon armed thugs were gathering around him. Hopefully, when he went down the others would back off, too.

The last thug was armed with an AK, and leveled it at the rooftops. I fired two rounds at his shoulder, not phasing him. He might be on some sort of drug, or just an adrenaline high, or both. As he moved his finger to the trigger, his head snapped back. Hyun had dropped him with a well-placed shot. It was a rubber bullet, but in the right place, it would still kill.

The melee thugs did not back off, despite having the alpha male brought down. They circled my wounded comrade, and I quickly fired several rounds at them, to get them back. Most of them took cover around the car, and were getting too close to flanking Hyun for comfort. So, I figured the next step was to take the fight to them. I jumped back down onto the roof of the car, and shot one of the men with the knife. The other man with the knife ran up onto the car from the other direction of where my pistol was pointing. Quickly, I performed a side kick, driving the force of my legs and hips into the man's exposed head. He staggered back for a few steps, and I shot him a few times to drop him for good.

In the confusion, the bat-man had gotten to close to Hyun. My wounded comrade was now out of ammo, and could do little. I had spent most of my ammo, so I figured it was time to conserve some. I drew out my blade and prepared for some melee combat. I jumped off the car behind where he was running from (and out of the immediate arc of the bat). I grabbed the bat with one hand, jerking him off balance for an instant. I elbowed him in the temple, and then rammed my knife into his stomach, solar plexus, and chest a few times. It happened to fast for me to count. I finished him off with a slash across the carotid arteries, and I quickly sheathed my blade. I could see Hyun standing up and loading a fresh magazine. He pointed to where the bullet had made contact with him. Luckily, it was just a pistol bullet, while it bruised him, he was still able to move with some discomfort.

His back was swollen, but he was alright. I climbed back up the roof I had been at before, and helped lift him up. I lead the way along the rooftops, slowing my run to a jog so that I could recover stamina and help Hyun if he needed it. I could hear the gunshots and shouting growing more distant as we fled the other direction. We headed away from the confrontation site, but kept focusing on the white shack in the distance. I decided to run across a long roof covered in a material I couldn't immediately identify. Suddenly, I fell through, and realized what it was: cardboard. The roof Hyun and I had just jogged on was flimsy cardboard. I had a few quick pains, but nothing major. My fall and injury hadn't been as bad as Hyun's.

I could see a surprised looking family staring at me. Well, I was the unwanted intruder, after all. There was a father, mother, and toddler all staring at me. Quickly, I stood up, and climbed through a window. I looked up, and saw that the white shack was just down the street. We just had about a hundred feet to go. The gunfire and shouting was now more distant. I estimated we were now near the top of the hill.

“Almost there,” I grinned. Hyun looked down at me, and suddenly laid prone. I could hear the sounds of a helicopter in the distance. Looking up, I saw a black helicopter, and someone with a rifle and megaphone shouting from it. As if trying to avoid getting noticed, Hyun slowly crawled and let himself down from the roof.

“Police raid?” I asked.

He nodded. I grabbed Hyun's hand, and yanked him as I sprinted down the favela's street. My lungs were about to explode. My heart was pounding in my chest. My Kevlar vest was soaked with sweat. If the police were here, they'd be drawing the fire of any gangsters around. So, being seen by either party was not going to be good for our health. Seeing the goal was so close, I kicked the rotten front door of the structure opened. Whatever rusted lock was on the door flew right off, and the door flew opened. Guess this guy didn't have much protection against robbers. It took me an instant to recognize how wrong I was.

A string from the door handle connected to a pulley, then the trigger of a shotgun aimed directly at the door. Suddenly, a shot rang out, and I expected that to be the last thing I saw. Suddenly, I felt someone pulling me back. I turned to see Hyun's hands pulling me to safety as the booby-trapped discharged. Taking a quick peak into the shack's rebar covered windows, I could see that similar tripwires covered the other main points of entry. Toru was indeed paranoid if that was how he lived.

I half expected an ancient Japanese man to banzai charge us at the door with a katana. Quickly, Hyun and I looked inside the house, training our pistols and sweeping on inside.

“Toru?” I asked.

There was no response as we searched around. The floor and walls were crude wood planks. The place itself was fairly dusty and filthy. There was an ad hoc “sink,” shower, toilet, and washroom made of PVC piping and a bucket of stagnant water. A broken pane of glass acted as a mirror. A military style cot with ratty covers was the only bed. His clothing hung from a line suspended from the ceiling. A small shelf had a few rotting books on it. A plastic tarp divided the place in two. A pungent odor emanated from somewhere on the other side of the tarp. Carefully, Hyun and I lifted the tarp, ever mindful of any more booby traps.

When we saw what was on the other side, my heart sank. We saw a rope along the floor connected to a tripwire, which was connected to a revolver's trigger. On the floor was the decomposing corpse of Hideo Toru. There was a bullet wound in his head, and insects buzzing around him. I was no expect on forensics, but I figured it must have happened somewhat recently.

Did we come all this way, just to get fucked over by some cruel twist of fate? Fuck. I was about to shout when I heard someone else walking into the house. Quickly, Hyun and I spun around with our pistols. In front of us was Kimura, covered in blood.

“Kimura, you alright?!” I asked. “I can call for medical help!”

“I'm fine,” he grinned wickedly. “This ain't my blood.”

He gestured to Toru's corpse. “So that's why no one's seen the old coot,” he muttered. “Figures.”

“Well, we came here to interview him, but looks like that plan fell through,” Hyun grit his teeth. He was about to kick over the nearby bookshelf when Kimura stopped him.

“I've heard a bit about what you guys do,” Kimura added. “History and shit, right?”

“One of our main focuses,” I replied. “Got an idea that can help us out of this fucking jam?”

Kimura walked over to the bookshelf, and pulled out a few of the old books. He opened one, and pulled out a series of old folded documents. It was clear those were maps of some sort, but I couldn't read the Japanese characters across it. A series of numbers were listed at different point of the map.

“Yup,” he replied. “My main contact here is a petty burglar and thief. One day, he was watching this old man to see if he had anything worth stealing. Said he saw him going through some old maps in a book one day. Not knowing what the fuck they were for, plus the traps, meant he decided not to bust in.”

“How kind of him. Now, if you could, try not to handle those old documents too much,” I added. “Thanks, though.”

“From what my contact said, he sometimes fingered through those old maps. From what they look like, they're some kind of logistics charts and shipment routes. It shows what supplies go to what units stationed where,” Kimura looked over the document. “And before you ask, yes, I can speak and read Japanese.”

“So can I,” Hyun said. “Though not very well. Studied abroad there for a year.”

Kimura said something in Japanese, and Hyun replied with something else in Japanese. He pointed to a number “161” on an island near Luzon in the Philippines.

“Hey guys, can we get these books and maps and get the hell out of here?” I replied. “The cops and the gangs are going at it, and what if the gunfight spills out up here?”

“It won't,” Kimura added. “Even if it did, the gangsters don't want to go in this house. The cops normally just look for wherever the drug gangs are defending the most. They just want to take the gangs' money and drugs before calling it a day.”

Hyun shut the door, and tried in vain to lock it. Instead, he just propped an old shoe against the door.

“We're going to be spending some time in here with Toru-san here, and his old maps,” Kimura added. “Since this covers the contract we made, I'd say my work here is done.”

He got up to leave before turning back. “But since I like you guys, I'll throw in babysitting you and taking out back out of here for free.”

“Thanks,” I nodded to him. “We couldn't have done it without you.”

“You guys are fellow mercs,” he nodded. “I think of it like professional courtesy.”

We spent the next few hours looking over the old books and notes. I couldn't read any of it, but the other two could. Just before dusk, Kimura helped escort us back out. The carnage from before had been cleaned up, and undoubtedly more thugs would be coming out at night. So, I had Paz pick us, and our new acquisitions, up. Thankfully, the worst that Hyun had was just some bruising. We got back to the safehouse, and were on our way home by the following afternoon. The old books and maps were thankfully fairly well preserved. We had found the location of the island, and we had a lot of planning to do. Hopefully, we'd be able to investigate what was on the island before the Retrogressors would have a chance to. Oh, how optimistic we were.