V1-030

"Mother fucker…is that the god damn Biohazard Symbol!" Now on my feet, I raced to get closer to the TV and even placed my face against the flat digital display screen.

"WOAH, WOAH WOAH, DON'T TELL ME THAT PSYCHOPATH PLANS ON UNLEASHING A VIRUS ALL OVER THE PLANET!"

Hearing my frantic tone, Renton was beside me in a heartbeat as he half shoved, half pushed me to the side enough so that he could get a good look at the prominent biohazard symbol on the missile meant for Washington, DC.

A bit annoyed by the constant pushing of my little brother, my head whipped toward Dad as he placed both hands behind his head and groaned with his eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought.

Having been the first of us to examine the missile, he had not only found the symbol but even noticed the small red code printed below it. The reason for his dissatisfaction was simple; he recognized that alpha-numeric designation.

The code was considered classified information to the public. Still, our Dad, having been ex-special forces, was privy to such knowledge during his tenure in the military, and once I saw it, I was able to piece what little information I had together, thanks to his reaction.

'X-120-BH-UP-NNWHP.' The numbers and letters were printed in bright red, and the camera zoomed in slightly on them as if allowing the world to read them, and my brain spun up as I tried to figure out what they meant.

If there was one thing about the United States military that could be counted on, no matter which branch, it was their weird quirk, their overuse of Acronyms.

This quirk was practically a standard issue, and nearly everything from food such as MREs (Meal Ready to Eat) to jobs or even missile codes were all written in Acronyms, which had always given Renton and me a headache, especially since our Dad seemed to LOVVVE using them.

However, this was good because I knew every acronym the US military used made sense...or at least it was supposed to.

'Come on, Dean, think, what was that fucking code sequence again….' I thought as I hurried away from the tv and assumed a similar posture to my Dad's, hands behind my head and eyes closed.

'BH, that means Biohazardous…that much is obvious, and the first digit is X, that should be one of those highly secretive projects.'

'120 is useless to me because that is more of a serial number than anything, so X-120 is the chemical compounds identification number.'

'And I recognize the NNWHP, that should be Non-Nuclear Warhead Payload, but what the fuck is UP….' Unconsciously, I had been mouthing the letters UP over and over, drawing my Dad's attention beside me, and he cleared his throat before speaking.

"Unknown Pathogen," while I contemplated what the U-P could stand for, I heard a loud cough, followed by my Dad's murmuring, causing my eyes to shoot open in surprise.

"X-120, Secret Project series 1, product 20, BioHazardous, Unknown Pathogen…."

"Non-Nuclear Warhead Payload." Finishing my Dad's words, our eyes met, and we turned to look at my brother, who was staring at us as if we were zoo animals.

"What… in the…fuck just happened…" Renton asked with a high-pitched voice and a weird facial expression.

Dad and I frowned in response and shook our heads in sympathy; Renton had always been an act-first ask-questions-later kind of person and wasn't known for using his brain.

Unfortunately, before I could answer him, a shallow rumble came through the Tv speakers, and everyone in the room's attention shifted back to what was happening on the live feed.

A billowing white cloud of smoke resembling a cloud began spreading out from under the missle, and it slowly rose off the launch pad until we could see a highly focused blast of fire underneath.

This sight alone was enough to silence the three of us altogether, and even Carleigh's sobs were cut off as we watched in horror while the missile shot out from the tube-like silo and disappeared into the sky.

"IT'S TIME, PEOPLE OF THE WORLD; IT'S TIME FOR ME TO SHOW YOU ALL THE STRENGTH HIDDEN WITHIN. IT'S TIME FOR ALL TO SEE MY VISION COMING TO FRUITION!"

"FOR YEARS, WE HAVE BEEN FORCEFULLY PUSHED DOWN, BEATEN, ABUSED, TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF, AND CONTROLLED BY THOSE CONSIDERING THEMSELVES THE HIGHER POWER."

"NO LONGER, NO LONGER WILL THOSE GREEDY CAPITALIST BASTARDS, SITTING ON THEIR THRONES BUILT ON OUR STURDY BACKS, PUSH US DOWN."

"ON THIS DAY, I USHER IN A NEW WORLD, AND SOCIETY, AS YOU KNOW, SHALL FALL TO MY MAGNUM OPUS, MY REQUIEM!" Screaming into his microphone, Niklaus stood on his feet in the corner of the screen while the feed shifted from one missle to another, all airborne and heading toward their targets.

"THE STRONGEST WILL PREVAIL, THE WEAK WILL FALL. WITH THIS SINGULAR ACTION, I GIVE YOU THE TOOLS TO BECOME A NEW SPECIES; WITH EACH MISSLE, I GIVE YOU THE POWER AND CHANCE TO BECOME MORE THAN YOU EVER IMAGINED POSSIBLE!"

"THE WORLD WILL BE YOURS; ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS FREELY ACCEPT MY GIFT!"

"SAY GOODBYE TO THE MUNDANE WORLD YOU HAVE BEEN FORCED TO SURVIVE IN; GOOD LUCK, PEOPLE OF THE WORLD; I WILL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE!" The moment he stopped his manic ranting, the screen faded to black, and there was only silence.

With the feed cut off, we all sat stunned by what we had witnessed until Renton broke that silence.

"Dean... how long do we have?" He asked, pulling me out of my stupor and forcing me to gaze down at my watch with glazed eyes.

"Don't quote me on this, but if we go by the timer, all of those missles should reach their point of impact and detonate in two minutes and thirteen seconds." Dropping my arm, I took a deep breath before standing up and dusting off my uniform trousers.

"I see…two minutes…damn," Renton stated in an absentminded voice.

Meanwhile, I noticed my Dad dropping his arms and looking between my brother and me.

On the other side of the living room, Carleigh was saying prayers and sobbing even louder while her two sons held onto her; both had frightened eyes.

Shaking my head and feeling it was better to leave Carleigh and her sons to share their last minutes in peace, I sniffled and walked over to the window, still wide open and free of the barricade from when our Dad had gotten home.

Noticing my movement, Renton grunted and followed suit, falling in line behind me as we walked across the room to the open French-style window.

With me exiting first, the two of us climbed out the window, walked out to the center of the street, and were followed by choruses of "Where are you going?" and "What are you doing?".

But they fell on deaf ears as my brother, and I stood out looking towards the northeast, where we remembered Kennedy Space Center was located.

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