Two days later, 6:57 am…
Valeria checks out the Internet again, flipping between multiple online news outlets.
“…Venezuelan officers involved in illegal activities, the Red Confederacy declines to comment about the situation and their involvement with a criminal government.”
“…The home of Gustavo Contreras, president of Venezuela’s National Parliament assaulted by unknown troops, his family is safe but he has gone missing, no information about his whereabouts has been reported so far.”
“…United Nations condemns the attack that occurred in Venezuela by foreign troops to a political figure, it will worsen the situation about the global war.”
“…U.S. President Bradford Maxwell, supported by the Vanguard of the Atlantic, has authorized a military operation to restore the democracy and safeguard the human rights of the citizens of Venezuela.”
She stops switching websites, she turns on the TV and sees Venezuelan President Ernesto Castellanos on every national channel.
“I declare maximum alert in Venezuela! The American empire has invaded our land by violently attacking the home of our comrade Gustavo Contreras, taking him as a hostage. They have the boldness to call me an ‘accomplice’ to weapons trafficking, which is false. They say they will take me by force. I call for the people, to the fighting countries of this great continent, for their support. We will never surrender our independence and glory as the previous government always did, and I repeat it: THEY WILL NEVER TOPPLE THIS LEGITIMATE STATE AND—”
The channel is changed, each one showing the same speech, the TV is promptly muted.
“If something is annoying it’s seeing that donkey face on every TV channel.” Valeria says, changing the channels carelessly.
“You can’t hide the truth now, still Ernesto and his buddies try to defend the undefendable,” Roberth says.
“I only want to see videos or any information regarding the arrest of Ernesto, Phrixus told me the VOA will assault the Presidential Palace where he is entrenched,” Valeria says.
***
VOA forces begin to deploy to intervene in Venezuela and head to Capital District, Caracas; the main objective is the capture of Ernesto Castellanos. Meanwhile the metropolis has been heavily militarized since yesterday by the declaration of war. Every citizen of the municipality and their surroundings have gathered any supplies they could get and locked themselves in their homes, afraid of the imminent arrival of the Vanguard of the Atlantic troops.
Phrixus was in a military transport helicopter at the briefing session.
“Pay attention, I am General Troy Roderick in charge of this operation, our mission is simple, capture the VIP and secondarily the other members in the list. It is estimated that the enemy army size is about of seven to eight thousand soldiers, although they have out-of-date weapons and technology do not get your hopes up. They currently have ties with the Red Confederacy so we should expect they will have additional ground and air support. We will arrive to the coast and march towards the capital. You must minimize any civilian casualties and remember, the true enemy is the confederacy, not the country’s soldiers. Any questions?”
“No sir,” everybody inside says in unison.
“In that case,” the General says, “Operation Shadowstep begins.”
***
3 hours later…
Main battle tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, and armored personnel carriers accompanied by helicopters and attack jets advance through a small city. A few residents take pictures with their smartphones and observe cautiously the machinery of war moving to the south.
Phrixus is in the lead transport.
“I have a friend who was at the invasion of Panama in 1989,” one of the soldiers says, pulling out a picture of Angel Falls. “Do you know this waterfall? He went over there once and I always wanted to visit that place as a tourist, not like some invader…” says one of the troopers.
“You’ll do it when this war ends,” Phrixus says.
“If I still live of course! I know you are Venezuelan, are you not even upset about this?”
“I am, but we are kicking out the Red Confederacy! Besides these would-be governors sell the Bellusaxum and the Omicron Stars to the enemy,” says Phrixus.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I see…”
***
25 minutes later…
The dreadful silence is suddenly shattered by the sounds of bullets and explosions enveloping the outskirts of the capital. It seems that the defending army is facing an impending defeat against the Vanguard, since the latter have more advanced weapons and equipment at their disposal. The Venezuelan army begins to retreat inside the city only to delay the inevitable, and the Vanguard arrives at the periphery of the Presidential Palace blocked by bold civilians showing a defiant stance, carrying placards with hostile messages against the invading army and a few of them armed with small firearms.
Phrixus calmly stares down the mob. “A fine demonstration of blind zeal,” Phrixus says. “They will never learn.” He sighs.
“Hey Phrixus, General Roderick wants to speak with you.” A VOA Sergeant hands him a radio.
“General.” Phrixus speaks into the radio.
“Phrixus, we assigned you to a squadron to break into the palace and capture the VIP. The rest of the soldiers will stay to guard the perimeter. I’ve been informed that civilians are holding up the entrance, I have sent a crowd control unit to take care of the situation, over and out.”
In less than a minute a multi-purpose vehicle with a disk-shaped apparatus mounted above it begins to slowly approach in front of the angry mob throwing rocks, once in position one of the passengers uses the vehicle’s speakers to address the crowd in Spanish.
“Please return to your homes for your safety.”
Some of the civilian loyalists respond by shooting with pistols. The vehicle begins to charge its device and after a few seconds, it releases a warping wave of energy to the mob, making them fall to their knees while others to the ground, some of them trying unsuccessfully to get up.
“What the hell did that thing do to the people?” Phrixus asks.
“Short-term overwhelming fatigue, they won’t do anything for five minutes, tech made possible by using specific, Bellusaxum-based special conductive materials, we will detain them until they decide to cooperate,” says the Sergeant.
“Right, where is my squad?”
“Where you think we would be?” A familiar voice speaks from behind Phrixus.
“You guys again…” Phrixus smiles to see Floyd, Vincent, and Sylviane.
“Yeah, you are wearing all kinds of weird stuff, like some kind of hunter,” says Sylviane.
“It’s a hobby.” Phrixus grins.
“Ready to do this?” Floyd asks.
“Let’s not keep the tyrant waiting,” Phrixus says.
The squadron gets inside the palace, so far there are not any hostile soldiers while heading to the president’s underground bunker. Vincent enters the information Phrixus retrieved and gets inside. On their way to the transport section they discover the train has already departed.
“Not so fast,” says Vincent. Manipulating the computer console of the mainframe, Vincent quickly manages to hack the train system and makes it return to the palace.
“It didn’t even manage to get that far, it’s just coming...” The train appears. “Right now,” says Vincent.
The train arrives slowly, then stops and the doors open automatically.
“Nowhere to flee,” says Phrixus.
The squadron boards the train, checking every spot and corner until arriving at the very end of the train. Opening the final door they find the president Ernesto, serenely gazing at a picture.
“So, you managed to control the train and corner me?” Ernesto examines the group. “So this is the infamous Phrixus, the scoundrel of the VOA. How can someone betray his homeland, hand it over to imperialistic hands and bring the country to an age of calamity?”
“Quit your nonsense speech, it won’t work for me, you are going to jail,” says Phrixus.
“Never… There are a lot of people who still believe in me! Thanks to my programs, social projects, and ideas I easily convinced enough people to follow my lead, they won’t allow any fool to take the power so easily, the political polarization is so strong that it will remain for a very long time, every nation gets the government it deserves...” Ernesto chuckles. “And now…” He pulls a small pistol from his sleeve, “I will be a martyr and you will be branded as the main culprit.”
“No!” yells Phrixus.
Phrixus rushes toward Ernesto to stop him, but he quickly shoots himself in the head, ending his life and falling to the ground.
“Damn it this is bad, we have to report this to the HQ.” says Sylviane.
“His death will trigger a big upheaval! Why did they have to make things worse?” Phrixus says.
“You know, since we began the operation I haven’t seen a SINGLE soldier of the Red Confederacy, something’s fishy here…” Floyd say.
“We have to check the main office and search for intel,” says Vincent.
The squadron goes to the presidential office and begins to rummage through the room for documents, weapons, anything they can find. Vincent manages to hack Ernesto’s laptop and get access to his files, there are a lot of written documents but an audio record gets his attention.
“I think I found something.” Vincent plays the audio file.
“
The audio ends abruptly.
“Experiments? That sounds wicked, I’ll take these documents to…” Before Vincent finishes his sentence, the laptop begins to make strange noises, lets out sparks and turns off, rendering it inoperative.
“Aghh blazes…” Vincent says. “Rigged to avoid data gathering. There’s nothing I can do now, we must go empty-handed and report what we learned.”
***
A week has passed since the military invasion. Many government officials have fled the country while some of them have been captured. Jose Romero is designated as the new president, despite martial law in effect there are still acts of looting and vandalism such as carjacking, robberies, convenience stores being plundered and a few administrative buildings being set in flames. Venezuela has joined the Vanguard of the Atlantic to restore the nation’s economy by selling Bellusaxum to the military alliance, it will take time for the country to recover, however.