SPARTAN WARLORD SYSTEM: CONQUERING EMPIRES AND BEAUTIES

Chapter 2: The Forbidden Artifact

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

A barrage of .50 caliber bullets tore through the rear of the Suburban like a giant can opener. The third-row seats disintegrated into shreds of foam and smoking metal. Cleo's panicked screams drowned under the roar of the engine being pushed way beyond its limits.

"Take the wheel, Nathan!" Adam roared. Cold sweat flooded his temples as he tried to maintain the car's balance on steel rims that were shooting sparks onto the asphalt.

"I'll drive!" Nathan shifted his body roughly. His left hand snatched the steering wheel while his right hand slammed the transmission lever into low gear. "Ryan, load the drum mag! Hold off the lead van!"

"Damn it! My drum mag is empty!" Ryan yelled back from behind. The young man's face was smeared with fresh blood from a steel shrapnel gash on his temple. His hands shook as he slapped a standard thirty-round magazine into his assault rifle. "They're using armor-piercing rounds! This car's armor won't last another thirty seconds!"

Nathan stomped the gas pedal all the way down and jerked the wheel to the left. The three-ton SUV skidded sideways. It slid into a narrow alley between the two brick walls of a waste processing plant. The right side mirror was completely crushed against the wall, creating a nerve-racking screech that deafened the ears. 

The two enemy vans behind them were forced to brake suddenly because the alley was too narrow to pass side-by-side. This gave Nathan a precious fifty yards of distance.

"Are you crazy?!" Adam snapped. Both of his hands gripped the cracked dashboard. "This industrial park is a dead end! We're trapped in a maze of abandoned factory carcasses!"

"The main road is a graveyard," Nathan cut in coldly without taking his eyes off the gaps between the rusted containers ahead. "They control the air and the outer perimeter. Our only chance is to block their line of sight in closed terrain."

The car swerved wildly. It cut through piles of wooden pallets and empty chemical drums. White smoke from the busted radiator began seeping through the air conditioning vents. It carried the sweet smell of boiling coolant. 

Cleo coughed violently on the floor in the back. Her trembling fingers gripped the silver briefcase until her knuckles turned deadly pale. Her silk dress had torn at the thigh. It revealed smooth skin that was now bruised from the cabin impacts.

"Miss Cleo, stay down!" Nathan ordered sharply through the rearview mirror. "If your head pops up even an inch, a ricochet will take your life."

"I-I know!" Cleo replied with a choked voice. "But this briefcase. This briefcase cannot take a hard hit! The magnetic field stabilizers inside could malfunction if they take excessive impact!"

Nathan scoffed cynically. "To hell with your magnetic stabilizers. The only thing you need to worry about is your heart stopping."

Nathan spotted an alternative exit at the end of the alley. It was a narrow gap leading to a container disposal area that pointed toward the riverbank. If they could reach the river levee, they could ditch the car and move silently under the enemy's thermal radar. 

He cranked the wheel to the right with a handbrake turn maneuver. The front tires gripped the wet asphalt, spinning the car's body out of the mouth of the alley.

But the moment the SUV's nose emerged into the open area, Nathan's eyes caught a glint of metal behind a stack of concrete highway dividers.

Five men in black assault vests and balaclavas were already standing by in a half-circle formation. Three of them aimed automatic assault rifles. The man in the center rested on one knee, shouldering an olive-green tube with a pre-loaded cone-shaped warhead.

"Back up! Back up, Nathan!" Adam screamed hysterically. His voice pitched out of control.

"RPG!" Nathan roared. 

SWOOSH!

A tongue of flame shot out from the rear of the enemy's launcher tube. The warhead spun rapidly in the air, cutting through the thirty-yard distance in the blink of an eye. 

Nathan didn't try to back up, because doing so was absolutely impossible. With cold combat calculation, he yanked the steering wheel to the right with all his might and slammed on the emergency brake at the exact same time. He forced the side of the car body to take the impact to protect the fuel tank in the back.

BOOM!

A massive explosion slammed into the front left side of the Suburban. The shockwave crushed the steel pillars, tore off the driver's side door, and flipped the three-ton vehicle into the air. The world spun in a chaotic blur of shattered glass, shredded metal, and blinding flashes of fire. 

The car slammed hard into the concrete barrier, spun one hundred and eighty degrees on its roof, before finally coming to a dead stop upside down on the asphalt with its wheels still spinning wildly in the air.

A momentary silence blanketed the ruined cabin. There was only the hiss of flames and dripping oil burning on top of the hot engine block.

"Ugh." Nathan groaned softly. His head hung upside down. He was held in place by a seatbelt that pressed into his chest making it hard to breathe. Warm blood flowed from his left temple. It dripped into his eyelids and blurred his vision in deep red.

He released the safety buckle with one hand, letting his body drop against the crushed car ceiling. A sharp pain pierced his ribs, but his tactical awareness refused to fade.

"Adam. Cleo. Ryan!" Nathan whispered hoarsely. His hands patted down his tactical belt to make sure his spare magazines and his MCX rifle were still there.

"I-I'm here," a muffled groan came from the right side. Adam was wedged between his seat and a buckled door. His right shoulder was dislocated, but he was still breathing. His wild eyes stared out the shattered window.

In the backseat, muffled sobbing came from behind a pile of torn upholstery. Cleo was still alive. She was curled up in a narrow gap beneath the rear dashboard. Her beautiful face was covered in black soot and blood from a broken nose.

But Ryan wasn't so lucky.

The guard who sat next to Cleo had died instantly. A crushed steel pillar had slammed into his chest, pinning his mangled body between the steering wheel and the engine that had crumpled into the cabin. His eyes were wide open, staring blankly at Nathan.

"Ryan is dead," Nathan said coldly, shutting off his emotions instantly. On the battlefield, mourning was the same as committing suicide. "Adam, help Cleo out through the back window. Hurry!"

Nathan kicked out the remaining cracked windshield until it gave way. Crawling over the broken glass, he exited the wrecked car first. The cold air stung his lungs, mixing with the thick scent of gunpowder.

From twenty yards away, the five armed men began moving forward with measured steps. Their rifles were aimed at the wrecked Suburban.

"Check the primary targets! Secure the briefcase. Finish off anyone still breathing!" their squad leader yelled in heavily Eastern European-accented English.

Nathan didn't give them a second chance. 

Resting on one knee behind the rear wheel of the overturned car, Nathan raised his Sig Sauer MCX assault rifle. His eyes locked onto the silhouette of the RPG gunner who was trying to reload from his backpack.

POP! POP!

Two 5.56mm bullets punched through the RPG gunner's neck and jaw. Blood sprayed into the air. His body collapsed against the dirt.

"Contact! He's still alive!" the attacker on the right shouted.

Nathan shifted a fraction of a second before a barrage of enemy bullets shredded the tire rim he was using for cover. Using a rapid pie-slicing firing technique, Nathan leaned his body from a low angle beneath the car's chassis. His rifle barrel aimed at the legs of two attackers who were moving too openly on the gravel.

BANG-BANG!

Two low shots shattered the knee and ankle of the second enemy. As the man fell screaming, Nathan raised his aim half an inch and fired a single execution shot right into his forehead. 

The third enemy tried to throw a hand grenade, but his right arm was exposed when he pulled the pin. Nathan shot the man's elbow until the bone shattered. The live grenade slipped from his grasp and dropped right between the poor bastard's legs.

BOOM!

The grenade explosion ripped through the third enemy's body and threw the fourth enemy back several yards with steel shrapnel embedded in his chest. Three dead, one dying, leaving one last attacker who immediately dropped prone behind a stack of giant concrete pipes.

"Nathan! Get out now!" Adam yelled from behind the car wreck. 

Adam crawled out from the crushed rear window while dragging Cleo roughly by the wrist. Adam's breathing was ragged. His face was deadly pale, but his gaze wasn't fixed on the remaining enemy or Nathan's blood flowing heavily on the asphalt. 

Adam's eyes were glued straight to the silver briefcase that had been thrown from the cabin when the car flipped. It lay thirty feet away in a wide open area on the dusty road. One corner was slightly torn, revealing a dim golden glow from its metal seams.

Adam swallowed hard. His lips trembled wordlessly as his inner voice whispered with pure greed. "That thing. That thing is still intact in there. Perfect."

"Run to the textile factory in the back!" Nathan snapped. He dropped an empty magazine and slammed a fresh one into his rifle with a single firm snap. "I'm laying down cover fire!"

"My briefcase!" Cleo suddenly screamed. The girl broke free from Adam's grip with unexpected strength, intending to turn back and run into the middle of the open field. "My father's briefcase is over there! I'm not leaving without it!"

"Don't be stupid, Miss!" Nathan barked. His blood-soaked hand snatched the collar of Cleo's coat and yanked her behind the car. "It's wide open! That last shooter is still waiting behind those concrete pipes!"

"You don't understand!" Cleo's tears spilled out. They mixed with the soot on her cheeks as she desperately pounded on Nathan's armored chest. "Inside isn't just my father's research! There is an ancient artifact from the ancient Persian era that controls all the cellular mutations of this project! If Black Dragon takes it, millions of people will die! I'd rather die here than let them take it!"

Nathan looked into Cleo's eyes for a full second. There was no pretense there. There was only pure desperation from a woman holding a secret far too heavy for her shoulders.

"Damn girl!" Nathan cursed in annoyance. 

He glanced toward the pile of concrete pipes where the last enemy was hiding. The shooting angle was terrible. Furthermore, the roar of backup Black Dragon vans could be heard in the distance, getting closer from the highway. Their time was up.

"Adam, take her to the factory emergency door right now," Nathan hissed without looking back. "If you let her die, I will personally put a hole in your head."

Before Adam could reply, Nathan sprinted out from behind the cover of the SUV wreck.

RAT-TAT-TAT!

A barrage of gunfire from behind the concrete pipes instantly greeted him, sparking off the asphalt near his feet. One bullet grazed the steel plate on Nathan's left shoulder, burning the skin underneath, but the former mercenary's pace didn't slow down for a single millisecond.

Moving in a zig-zag pattern with explosive speed, Nathan fired three suppressing shots toward the concrete pipes. This forced the enemy to duck his head down. In one smooth sliding motion on his torn knees, Nathan grabbed the handle of the silver briefcase on the ground.

The metal of the briefcase felt incredibly cold to the touch. It was so cold it pierced right through his tactical gloves. It was accompanied by a strange low-frequency hum deep in his ears.

"Got it!" Nathan thought to himself.

He stood up, shot dead the last attacker who had just tried to raise his head from behind the concrete pipes, and then turned to sprint toward the steel doors of the abandoned textile factory where Adam and Cleo were waiting.

Nathan shoved the two of them past the threshold. He then slammed the five-inch-thick steel door tightly shut and locked it with a rusted iron bar. 

Inside, darkness and the musty smell of cotton dust welcomed them. Sunlight only entered through the cracks of shattered stained glass on the sixty-foot-high ceiling.

Nathan gasped for breath. His chest heaved up and down as he fought through the pain from his cracked ribs. Blood from his temple had now soaked the collar of his uniform. 

Leaning against the cold brick wall, Nathan raised the tactical radio on his shoulder. He pressed the transmission button with a trembling thumb.

"Command Center, this is Team Alpha. Convoy ambushed in the west industrial sector. Four vehicles destroyed. Ryan is KIA. We have the asset and are surrounded inside the old textile factory. Requesting immediate emergency air extraction on the roof. I repeat, requesting emergency extraction!"

Silence crept through the vast room. 

Nathan brought the speaker closer to his ear. There was no headquarters operator's voice. There was no helicopter coordinate confirmation. 

There was only the long, heavy, cold sound of thick static replying from the other end of their military radio frequency. It was a clear sign that their signal repeater tower had been severed from within their own command system.