Segment 4

Sokol followed the Unit as they walked toward a featureless wall; the Unit fingered a panel and the wall opened along an invisible seam. Sokol grimaced; the smell had hit him like a ton of bricks, the smell of dead and decaying bodies. No matter how long he was alive in this god-forsaken war he would never get used to the peculiar whiff of the battlefield. Moving forward the Unit and Sokol moved outside, spot fires pocked the ground, mounds of bricks showed where buildings once stood.

The Unit flicked the butt of the cigarette to the ground; it landed on the torn apart body of a Resistance soldier. Sokol looked around and for the first time realized where he was. Glancing at the Unit he noticed that it was wearing a replica of his uniform. His eyes found the Units face, and in its place he saw his own.

"These are my new quarters aren’t they?"

"Yes."

With blinding speed the Units right hand clasped over Sokol’s head and squeezed. The hydraulic pressure worked quickly instantly collapsing Sokol’s skull, in fact his entire head turned inside out. Blood and gray matter was flung all over the place, including the Units fatigues. Tossing Sokol into the mass grave the Unit with Sokol’s name continued walking towards the far side of the camp.

"Holding."

The Unit known as Sokol waited patiently, looking over the phased plasma laser rifle. This was a slow but necessary part of its infiltration mission so although it wanted to terminate humans that would just have to wait. As he stood he flicked a piece of Sokol’s skull from his fatigues, blood and gray matter decorated them, which was good. The fatigues needed to look battle worn otherwise he would be looked upon strangely.

The Units hearing device was tuned into the Resistance radio frequency, and suddenly the line came to life again.

It listened.

"William here, who am I speaking to?"

"The name’s Bullseye chief communications officer of the Resistance."

"Ah Bullseye…it’s been a long time. So what are you calling about?"

"You’ve wanted to join forces with us for quite a while, we’re at a crossroads where we are willing to at least meet to talk about the suggestion."

There is silence over the line, and then William comes back on.

"It’s not a slight to your people but we’d prefer not to meet in a Resistance controlled area-"

"Understood, the same goes for this end no offence meant of course."

"None taken…I take it you have found a good location."

"Yes do you know of the Abbey?"

"If the Abbey you’re talking about is near Gilman’s’ Run then yes."

"One and the same…do you feel that is a suitable location?"

"It’s the place I had always had in mind…just in case meetings happened. When did you want to meet?"

"Tomorrow night…security will be a joint endeavor of course-"

"Of course…tomorrow will be fine. I look forward to discussing our future together."

"So do we William, have a safe night."

"You also Bullseye…Good night."

The Unit retuned its hearing to the local vicinity and smiled to itself. It walked toward the laser-nets guarding the perimeter of the Resistance Detainment Facility. It’s soulless red eyes watched as humans loaded their own dead into incinerators, which continually belched smoke into glib and foreboding sky. What a morbid job, perhaps he would just shoot them, but no more would be herded into position to place their bodies into the incinerators. An endless circle of death.