Secret Origins: Somba

[Trav McBang!]

Secret Origins: Somba
RP #1 vs Steven Carter

Despite the unwanted casualties, the abduction of the Punjabi child, Balraj, had been successful. The child was everything that Lukas Reinhardt had imagined he would be. Just looking into the baby’s eyes, a feeling that this child would grow to be a brute crept into Lukas’s heart. The celebration time was brief, as the second child of the prophecy was being held in a Samoan hospital for several days before being released. Reinhardt, with Kohler in tow, headed to the Samoan island straight from India.

The second warrior shall bear the markings of a proud culture. He will grow to be as fierce as the first, despite being the smaller of the two. From the darkest corners of the world, he will rise to become a crucial block in the fulfillment of Germany’s dreams.

The Isle of Samoa
April 30, 1983

“Why did you bring him?” Lukas Reinhardt shoved Wolfgang Kohler against the wall. “I am the commander, not you! I can’t have you blatantly undermining my authority!” Reinhardt slowly released his second in command, realizing that his message was forceful enough without the physical confrontation.

Kohler dusted himself off before glancing up at his commander and flashing his signature sneer. “I am simply doing what is best for the Krieg, commander. After all, success is the goal of this operation, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Reinhardt admitted. “That’s exactly why Lindemann wasn’t welcomed in the first place.”

The words hit Kohler much harder than he was willing to let his commander know. Kohler viewed Lindemann as his eventual replacement. The fact that Reinhardt turned a blind eye to the man’s natural abilities enraged Kohler because it reminded him of his struggles to reach the top. “You’re insane,” he barked at his superior. “Christoph is the most talented man that this organization has in the field! Not since Mats Klose has an operative shown such keen instincts.”

“First of all,” Reinhardt said as he held up one finger. “I do not need remind you of what happened with Klose, Wolfgang. If anything, that comparison alone could damn the military career of Christoph Lindemann. Mats Klose was proof that character flaws, such as the stubbornness that Lindemann displays, can and will cause things to go wrong in the field. Lindemann has not matured enough to be placed in a job of this magnitude.”

“But, commander…” Kohler attempted to interrupt Reinhardt and plead his case, but the commander threw up a second finger. He edged his hand closer and closer to Kohler’s face.

“Secondly, Wolfgang, this is my operation. You don’t have the power to make the calls. If I think someone isn’t qualified to be in the field, that’s a call that I get to make, do you understand?”

“Commander…” Kohler tilted his head to the side, unhappy with Lukas pulling rank on him.

“I said: Do you understand, Kohler?” Lukas withdrew his hand from Kohler’s face and placed it on his hips.

“I understand.”

“Third,” Reinhardt held up another finger. “You’ve seen the test results that Lindemann has put up. His anger and aggression blind him. He isn’t a leader, Kohler, the man is a glorified mercenary. I don’t want to risk the lives of my men with that psychopath in the field. Anything could set him off and we would have a firefight in the middle of an open street. He’s simply too much of a risk to throw into the field without proper training.”

“Like it or not, commander, the man seem to be taking to Lindemann quite well.” Kohler looked over his commander’s shoulders, peering through the window of the Krieg safehouse. “What shall we tell them, Reinhardt? They’re preparing to begin this mission is less than two hours…with Lindemann as a member of their team. Surely you can’t change their plans this close to commencement.”

Reinhardt grumbled. Kohler had a point. Inside the safehouse, Til Hahn was carefully studying the hospital layout with Lindemann. They were plotting a two-man infiltration with their third man running surveillance outside of the complex. To order Lindemann’s exclusion would completely throw Hahn’s plans off and force him to rethink the entire mission plan in minute time. “Goddammnit, Kohler,” Reinhardt snarled. “Lindemann can participate in the mission.” Before Kohler could even snap off a comeback or remark, Reinhardt clarified his decision. “I’m not doing this because of you, Kohler. I am merely respecting Hahn’s mission plans and allowing him to carry them out. If Christoph screws up, he’ll be excluded from missions until his damn hair turns gray. Do you understand me, Wolfgang?”

“I understand, commander.” Kohler smiled, realizing that he had overruled Reinhardt’s wishes on a mission that was essentially Reinhardt’s pet project. “However, you don’t have to worry about my operative. He will show why he is the future of the Krieg…not these foreign children that you’re having us abduct.”

“That’s enough,” Reinhardt barked, cutting Kohler off before he had a chance to say what he truly thought of Operation Maschinen. “We’ve been over this, Wolfgang. I’m the commander, your constant undermining of my plans must stop, old friend.” He patted his long-time ally on the shoulder. “Come, let us check on Hahn and his men. Hopefully this mission goes over more smoothly than the last. The Krieg doesn’t need any more civilian casualties.”

The two men entered the safehouse, where Hahn and Lindemann were carefully studying the hospital layouts. The veteran operative was drawing a thin line on their schematics. Hahn’s eyes never left the paper as he told his men the man in a calm voice.

“We enter in civilian clothing. One sidearm apiece, hidden. We only have to pass two security stations in order to reach the room that holds the child. The security itself is so slack that we can take the child right out the front door if suspicion isn’t raised.”

“Every good,” Reinhardt nodded as he watched Hahn’s plans be drawn out. “What happens if suspicion is raised?”

Before Hahn could answer, Lindemann drew his firearm and laid it on the table. “That’s why I’m here, commander.”

Reinhardt didn’t respond verbally. He cast a weary glance towards Kohler, letting his icy stare do the talking for him. If Lindemann caused any unwarranted problems, he would never see field time under Reinhardt’s command ever again.

----

“You’re sure this will work?” Christoph Lindemann shifted uncomfortable as they walked through the doors of the hospital at sunset. “We don’t exactly fit in with the locals, Til.”

“If we don’t fit in, it’s because you won’t quit looking around like a paranoid undercover military operative.” Hahn laughed silently at the accurate description of his younger partner. “Look at that security guard,” he instructed, before correcting himself. “No, don’t stare, Christoph. Just glance.” The two men glanced at the guard, who was halfheartedly watching a computer monitor. “You see? We fit right in.”

“I’m sure we do,” Lindemann said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “It must be my tan that makes me look so at home in Samoa.” He glanced around the room once more, eyeing a security camera for a moment. “Let’s get this little shit and get the Hell out of here, Hahn. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Fair enough,” Hahn replied. They pushed past the first security guard without problem. The two men filed into an elevator and rode up to the third floor, where the child was kept. As they filed out of the elevator, they found themselves face-to-face with a security guard. He was leaving his station unmanned. As the guard disappeared into the elevator, Til turned to his partner and grinned. “I told you, Christoph. This mission is as simple as it comes. Let’s find that child.”

“That’s another problem,” Lindemann complained. “There must be a hundred babies in this place. How are we to know which child it is? Will he be wearing a shirt that says ‘Take Me’?”

Hahn didn’t dignify his partner with an answer. Partially, his silence was because of his annoyance at Lindemann’s paranoia, but there was a larger issue at hand; Hahn himself wasn’t quite sure how they would find the child. They pushed forth, peering into each room. They saw several babies, but none of them truly jumped out. As they neared the last room on the hall, both men were nervous that this mission might be more irritating than they had hoped. However, as soon as they peered into the room, they knew it was the one. A large baby, branded with traditional Samoan tattoos, was lying in its crib wide awake. His childish eyes gazed at the men with a passion that isn’t associated with most children of his age. Clearly, this was the child that they were seeking.

Hahn ducked into the room, surprised that no parents were around. He looked at the child’s chart, skimming for any clues as to what the story behind it was. “It’s a bastard,” he mumbled. “No father. Mother died during birth. Nobody’s even going to miss this child.” He leaned down and picked up the baby, still glaring at his captors. The icy stare was unsettling, but Hahn wrapped the child up and held it close. Just as they were about to make their way back to the door, a nurse walked in to check on the child.

“Who…” The nurse was stammering badly, scared at the sight of these two strange men in the orphan’s room. “Who are you?”

“Easy,” Hahn goaded her. “We aren’t here to hurt you. We’re just here to …adopt this child. We mean you no harm.”

Despite his words, the nurse screamed. In a knee jerk reaction, Lindemann pulled his firearm. He squeezed the trigger as it came from its holster, burying a bullet into the nurse’s leg. “Fuck!” the German screamed as he realized his pistol wasn’t silenced. Before the helpless nurse could run, he emptied two more shots into her head. He turned to Hahn and shrugged. “Guess this mission isn’t going to go smoothly after all.” With an expression that Hahn swore was a smile, Lindemann dashed from the room and into the hallway, waving his pistol as if he were conducting traffic.

Before Hahn could make it out of the room, he heard another gunshot. As he emerged, he saw another corpse, a doctor, laying at Lindemann’s feet. Christoph didn’t even offer an explanation for the kill. He simply held a hand out, signaling for Hahn to stay back and keep the child from harm. He edged closer and closer to the elevator, knowing that security would surely be on their way. As he shortened his breath, preparing for two quick killshots, something unexpected happened. A civilian father, who just happened to overhear the commotion, dove from his room and tackled Lindemann. The operative’s gun skidded across the floor, leaving the civilian man in a fist fight with the trained Krieg operative.

Lindemann recovered from the tackle quickly, far more quickly than the man expected. He grabbed a handful of the Samoan man’s hair and shoved his face down onto the tile floor. He unloaded three more punches into the man’s face, causing blood to seep from the corners of the civilian’s mouth. Showing no mercy or remorse, Lindemann snapped the man’s neck with lightning quick movements. A nurse screamed in horror and ducked behind a desk. Christoph stood up, the Samoan man’s blood covering his clothing. Hahn then realized why Commander Reinhardt was so apprehensive about turning this man loose in the field. Lindemann enjoyed brutality far too much. The younger operative snatched his pistol from the floor and turned his focus towards the elevator just in time. The doors opened and with two flashes of his barrel, the security guards were both disposed of easily.

Lindemann pocketed his clip, realizing that any evidence would make it that much easier, even for the sub-par Samoan government, to trace back to Germany. He turned towards Hahn and laughed. “He seems to be enjoying it, no?” Hahn looked down at the child, still glaring upwards at him. The child wasn’t stirring at all, not even a whimper. The carnage and gunfire didn’t faze the Samoan baby at all. Christoph laughed again and kicked open the door to the stairway. “Maybe he’ll make a good operative afterall.”

As the Krieg operatives bounded down the stairs, Lindemann slid another clip into his sidearm. He opened the door to the ground floor and immediately felt a bullet whiz past his head. He slammed the door and ducked behind cover. “Fuck,” he swore. “I thought the security guards here weren’t authorized to carry weapons!”

“They’re not,” Hahn assured him. “The police are, Christoph.”

“Fuck,” Lindemann screamed. He peeked out the small window and counted. Only two policemen were in the lobby. One was behind the security guard’s booth and the other was in the doorway, ushering civilians out. “Luckily for us, we’ve got better training. Follow me and watch my back, Hahn.” Lindemann burst through the door and immediately put a bullet into the heart of the ushering policeman. He then turned his attention towards the policeman hiding in the desk area. He wasted two shots, toying with the man by putting out security monitors. He crept up to the desk, peering over at the scared policeman. At point blank, Lindemann pressed his gun into the man’s temple and fired. He chuckled, an eerie and sinister sound that sounded as if it came from the mouth of Satan himself. As he laughed, a third office emerged from the crowd, holding a shotgun. Instinctively, Hahn pulled his pistol with his free hand and took the policeman out. Lindermann turned around just in time to see the man fall. He looked towards his partner with a smile. “About time you got in on the action, Hahn. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The Krieg operative shoved their way through the crowded lobby, emerging just as their third member pulled up in a black van. They piled into the backseat and the vehicle sped off. As Lindemann voiced his displeasure at the lack of surveillance, as well as his pleasure at his own performance, Hahn took a moment to look down at the child that he was holding in his hands. Despite the carnage and chaos, the gunfire and screaming, the child remained calm. The cold gaze and facial markings of the child, as well as his demeanor, reassured Hahn that this would one day be a great warrior…a great warrior who would represent his nation proudly; the nation of Germany.[/font]

The Samoan Beast, Somba, was born into a world of turmoil and chaos. Never knowing what peace truly was, he grew up with a chip on his shoulder. The ruthlessness that the newborn witnessed from Lindemann left an impression, some would say. Others would speculate that the man was just wicked from the start. Whatever the case, Somba grew to have a reputation larger than Balraj’s. While Balraj remained relatively calm, Somba would often harm his trainer and handlers. Unlike Balraj, Somba was a true warrior…a true warrior who wasn’t shy about harming those who crossed them. With Somba’s mean streak and Balraj’s sheer brute force, Der Krieg Maschinen grew to be mythical figures, urban legends amongst the military of Germany.

With all the trouble of obtaining the two children, Lukas Reinhardt longed to see his daughter. Nine innocents had died for the Krieg to obtain these two massive babies. That blood, while not directly, was still on the hands of Lukas Reinhardt. He needed to get home and remind himself of the innocence that childhood was supposed to bring. Lindemann’s punishment could wait. Kohler’s excuses could never come. Reinhardt only had two things on his mind. Foremost was his baby Kaja, but he also felt a glowing pride in knowing that Germany’s future would be safe thanks to the Krieg Maschinen.