Secret Origins: Balraj

[Trav McBang!]

Secret Origins: Balraj
RP #1 vs Obscene/Hargrove

Lukas Reinhardt had barely commanded the Krieg for an entire month. Being appointed the commander was not unlike being given a last place sports team and being told to turn them into champions. The amount of pressure that Lukas had faced in his first month alone had caused his hair to begin thinning. Now, a little over a week since the birth of his own daughter, Kaja, Lukas was making a decision that could shape the organization’s entire future. Lukas was placing the Krieg in the hands of the prophecy.

On the birth of Germany’s most successful ruler, three soldiers shall be born that will lead the country back to greatness after a great fall. Two warriors shall be of foreign blood and the third shall be German born. Together, they shall right the wrongs. The first of which shall come from the land once revered for its trading. As his country once traded with the foreign world, this soldier shall trade nothing but despair.

Punjabi, India
April 28, 1983

“You’re positive this is the correct child?” Wolfgang Kohler peered over his cup of coffee at his new commander. Still sore about losing the Krieg’s leadership position, Kohler made sure to undermine Reinhardt every step of the way. However, this prophecy nonsense was far too easy. The text was vague and ludicrous, perfect for Kohler’s mocking and second guessing. “Perhaps the great prophecy meant that the child would be of traitorous blood.” Kohler raised his glass and took a long, slow sip to hide his smile.

Directly across from Kohler sat Lukas Reinhardt, struggling to read a newspaper in the dim light of their makeshift headquarters, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of a village. The German commander didn’t feel like arguing with his subordinate, nor did he want to go through the process that he’d used to ensure that his child, Balraj, was in fact the child of the prophecy. Regardless, silence would only fuel Kohler’s curiosity. “Trust me, Wolfgang. I’m positive.”

Kohler raised an eyebrow. From Reinhardt’s answer, he assumed that he’d struck a nerve. “But what if it isn’t, commander? Perhaps we have wasted our time coming to this God forsaken land. Can the Krieg honestly afford another setback on a scale this grand?”

“No,” Reinhardt’s answer contained hints of annoyance. “You know better than anyone that another large setback is something that the Krieg cannot afford, Kohler.”

“So what are we doing here, Lukas?” Kohler took a cigarette from his pocket and lit the end of it. He pursed his lips and took a slow drag, blowing the smoke away from his face as he removed the cigarette from his lips. “Are we seriously entrusting the future of our organization to an ancient prophecy found in a ragged, tattered book somewhere? I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but taking such a drastic risk this early into your reign as commander…frankly, Lukas, it has rubbed some people the wrong way.”

“The wrong way, Wolfgang?” Reinhardt laid the paper flat to the table, finally giving Kohler his undivided attention. “Why haven’t any of these concerns been brought to my attention before now?”

“You’re the commander, Reinhardt…” Kohler took another slow drag from his cigarette, dangling the answer in front of his commander without directly revealing it. “Not every man in the Krieg believes in this prophecy with the same unwavering conviction that you seem to have. Honestly, how can you be so sure that this ancient text wasn’t just a cruel joke? A taunt that the charlatan isn’t around to see played out.” Kohler removed the cigarette from his lips, letting the smoke settle in around his piercing blue eyes.

“Do you want the truth, Kohler?” Reinhardt leaned forward in his seat, placing his elbow on the table and meeting Kohler’s stare. “Not speaking as a commander, but as a long time friend.”

“Lukas, if you gave me anything less than the truth, I would be offended. Truthfully, what indication do you have that this prophecy carries any truth?”

“There is no indication,” Reinhardt spoke the words as if the implications of a mistake carried no weight. An uneasy silence hung over the two Krieg officers now that the truth had been so bluntly laid out. Lukas took a deep breath, deciding to further explain his position to his subordinate before any backlash could occur. “Wolfgang, for years the Krieg has attempted to gain respect and prestige while staying stagnant in our methods and unwavering in our approach. For years, we have also repeatedly failed to accomplish our goals. When I was appointed commander, I vowed to myself that I would not make the mistakes of my predecessors. Dormancy is not something that I would wish to be associated with my reign as commander. My hands are tied, Wolfgang. I have to take the necessary risks.”

Kohler sat in silence, slowly taking a drag from his cigarette as the thoughts turned over and over inside of his head. After Reinhardt had beaten him out for the position of commander, he had cursed the decision because he was sure that Reinhardt was just a ‘yes man’ for the higher ups. Now that Lukas had revealed his true intentions, Kohler was impressed. His response wasn’t as the one that Reinhardt had expected. Kohler smiled. “Commander, I am glad to see that you want to better the Krieg through taking risks and forcing our men to be better. However, I am still apprehensive to the idea of an ancient prophecy coming true and leading us to prosperity. Of all the risks to take, are you sure that this is the correct operation to undertake?”

Commander Reinhardt smirked. “I have to be, Kohler.” He looked down at his watch, the minute hand edging closer and closer to the top of the hour. He looked back up to Kohler, wafting the smoke away from his face. “Right now, it’s too late to call the mission off.” The two men nodded solemnly. Reinhardt picked up his paper and began reading once more. Unlike Huffnang, there would be no monitoring and no careful analysis. Lukas Reinhardt had something that his previous commanders did not have. Lukas Reinhardt had faith.

----

Three Krieg operatives waited in a parked car, watching intently as a Punjabi family began preparing themselves of the night’s slumber. The young couple both marveled at their newborn son, tucked tightly into his crib for the night. Fritz Shouse, the leader of the trio, mentally prepared himself as he watched the parents turn the light in the bedroom out, engulfing the three room shanty in darkness. “Four minutes,” he instructed his men. “By then, the parents should be sound asleep…leaving the child vulnerable for us to take.”

“This is what the Krieg has come to,” muttered Oli Ballack, a fresh faced 18-year-old. “I cannot believe that this is what I’ve signed up for.”

“Excuse me?” Shouse lowered his binoculars and turned to face the new recruit. “You have issues with the objective?”

“Issues?” Ballack shrugged. “I guess you could say that. I just don’t feel comfortable taking a foreign child from its bed.”

“But it is the objective,” Shouse said without showing any emotion or hint of doubt. “If the commander demands it, our job is to carry it out.”

“It doesn’t strike you as odd?” Ballack waited for a moment, but Shouse barely moved. “Our nation’s reputation is poor enough as it is. If we get labeled as child thieves on top of everything else that the world believes, Germany’s future looks bleak.”

“This operation is covert,” Fritz reminded him. “If everything goes as planned, the world will never know that this was an act of Germany. They will simply dismiss it as the petty work of a common thief. We aren’t infiltrating a military base, simply entering a civilian home and taking a prisoner.” The car sat in silence for a while. Assuming that enough time had passed, Shouse opened his car door and stepped out. “Let’s move, men. We’ve got a mission to complete.”

The three men stealthily crossed the street, pressing themselves close to the house’s front door. Shouse raised three fingers, slowly counting them down one by one. As he dropped the last finger, Ballack shot the lock with a silenced pistol. The door creaked open and the men entered what appeared to be a small living room. Oli Ballack took a chance to survey everything. This was a normal, impoverished civilian home. He couldn’t help but feel that a trained soldier such as himself had no business here. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the thoughts. They trudged forth towards the bedroom. Shouse reached down and slowly turned the doorknob. As he opened the door, the men were greeted with an unexpected sight.

The parents of the child weren’t asleep. Instead, they were engaged in an act of passion, neither of them noticing the door slowly creak open. Fritz ducked back into the living room and addressed his men. “Dammit,” he swore. “They’re not sleeping.”

“Perhaps we should come back later,” the third member of their team offered weakly. “Surely they can’t go at it all night.”

“The lock has been blown,” Shouse reminded him. “Leaving would risk compromising the mission entirely.” As he spoke, Shouse pulled his sidearm from his hip. He slowly screwed a silencer onto the gun’s barrel. As Ballack watched this unfold, his stomach began to churn. “This is the only way,” Shouse tells his men, trying to convince them just as much as he was trying to convince himself. He took a deep breath and preemptively asked the Lord forgiveness for what he was about to do.

Fritz Shouse took a deep breath and kicked the bedroom door open. The impact caused the Indian parents to jump and turn their attention towards the man interrupting their night. The last thing either of them saw was the flash of a gun barrel as Fritz Shouse put a bullet in each of their heads. The silencer did its job, as the barely audible noise didn’t even cause the newborn child to stir. Fritz unscrewed the silencer as he approached the crib.

Behind him, Oli Ballack entered through the door. He looked in horror at the two innocent civilians, both of them unclothed and accepted by the clean bullet wounds in their skulls. The looks on their faces were a mixture of shock and disbelief. Ballack held back a gasp and turned his head toward Shouse. His leader lifted the large child from the crib. This child, Balraj, was much larger than most children of his age. Perhaps the prophecy was right after all. Ballack prayed that the prophecy was right. Shouse held the child for the other two men to see.

“This is the child,” he confirmed. His rigid voice was offsetting given the situation. His stiff jaw didn’t waver, despite what he had just done. “Let us report back to Commander Reinhardt and detail the mission. Given the unfortunate circumstance, he will want us to return to Germany more quickly than we had anticipated.”

As the three men snuck from the house, child in hand, Oli could not shake the visions of the poor home that death unexpectedly visited. Months after the incident, the pale faces of the parents would haunt the dreams of Oli Ballack.

That night, the baby Balraj did not shed a single tear. The child was strong, just as the Krieg had hoped for. In time, this kidnapped child would grow to become the largest soldier that the German army had ever known. Although he did not know what had become of his parents, the kid was filled with a rage that would lead one to believe that he actually knew what had transpired that night.

Commander Reinhardt’s first risk had gone smoothly, despite the minor setback of the civilian casualties. Even Wolfgang Kohler seemed surprised at the size of the week-old child. Upon seeing the kid, many opinions about the prophecy were swayed. Reinhardt rejoiced and began planned because the second step in fulfilling the prophecy would need to come quick with little preparation. In just two short weeks, the giant Balraj would meet his partner in destruction…the Samoan Steamroller known as SOMBA!!!