China Will Grow Larger

Viewing 10 posts - 1 through 10 (of 11 total)
  • Author
  • #12653

    China Will Grow Larger

    (A Command & Conquer Generals "Expansion Pack" We'd Love to See)

    ((This fanfiction piece uses characters, items and organizations used in Command & Conquer Generals Zero Hour, copyright 2003, Electronic Arts, Inc.  This piece is done solely for the non-profit entertainment and education of the author and the readers.  No challenge to the rights or ownership of the mentioned characters is intended or implied, nor should be inferred.)) 

    "More tabamel!" the general barked from his huge, plump cushion.  A servant girl quickly dashed up to his hooka, flipped it open, and put in more tobacco mixed with honey into the bowl.  After a few puffs, he grumbled, "What is keeping that Dr. Thrax? He should have been here by now."

    Seated on a nearby hassock, a Chinese man, barely into his majority years, glanced over at his fuming host.  While he was distracted, his Arabian female companion reached over, fascinated by his laptop computer.  He quickly smacked her hand.  "No!  No touchie!" he snapped.

    Just then, footsteps sounded.  The general looked up expectantly, then curled his lip in disgust.  That wasn't the doctor.  A thin, dusty, weary, sweating man trudged into the room.  "General?" he panted.

    "What," the general growled, "do you mean by fouling up my parlor with your filthy, flea-covered carcass without my bidding?"

    The peasant fell to his well-worn knees and bowed.  "Many humble apologies, General," he groveled, "but you told us to report to you as soon as we had finished moving the supply stash up north to the depot."

    "I told your foreman to report.  Where is he?"

    "He collapsed from the heat, sir."

    The general hissed through his teeth.  "Well, then… what's your name?"

    "Jamil, sir."

    "Well, then, Jamil, what about the supply pile to the south?''

    Jamil looked up reluctantly.  "The south, sir?"

    "Yes.  By the ridge."

    Jamil dragged his well-worn sandal's toe in a circle on the cool tile floor.  He thought that work was meant for tomorrow. "Um… I do not think we have started that one, sir."

    "Well, then, you workers still have something to do, then, don't you?"

    "Yes, sir, but…"  Too late, Jamil quickly shut up.

    "But what?" the general demanded.  Jamil wondered if he should respond.  "I said, WHAT?!"

    "It's… the south stack… it is so far away… and it will be dark in a couple of hours."

    "Well, then, you had better get started right away while it is light, hadn't you?"

    "But… pardon me for asking but… might we have a truck to help us?"

    The general stared at Jamil for the longest time.  The silence was scary.

    "It would make things faster," the laborer offered meekly.

    "BWAH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" the general suddenly roared with laughter.  "Truck, he says!"

    The hacker and the girls guffawed along.  Jamil didn't see what was so funny, but as a proverb said, if one morning the rich man says it is midnight, behold the stars.  So he chuckled along.

    "Why stop there?" the general chortled.  "Why not use a Quad Cannon? Or a Scorpion Tank?  Or maybe even a Scud launcher?!"

    "Well," Jamil said, "a truck would be much more practical–"

    "Jamil, you imbecile!"  The general's face instantly switched from mirth to maliciousness. "The GLA needs every combat vehicle on the field it can muster!  Do you want the accursed minions of corruption and oppression to destroy our homes and your brothers just because you do not want to put your back all the way into your duty?"  Before Jamil had even the chance to answer, the general leapt up to his feet, jerked the peasant up onto his shoddily sandaled own, and turned and shoved him to the door.  "Now get out and do not dare show your face in here until ALL the supplies are sorted and stored!"

    "Can I at least have some shoes?" Jamil whined.

    "Here's a boot!"  And the general kicked him out.  Jamil landed near the feet of a veiled officer, who glared down at him.  Not needing two assaults, Jamil scrambled up and out of his way.   Watching the lackey scurry off, the mysterious man strode right on into the general's parlor.

    "Ah, Dr. Thrax," the general said.  "Come, sit, enjoy a puff of my hookah."

    The doctor waved it off politely.  "I fear I must decline.  Smoking will kill you, you know."  He then peered hard at the seated Chinese hacker.  "And who just who is this?" he sniffed with high distrust and disgust.

    "A recent associate of mine.  Please meet Mr. Bom."

    The hacker stood up and offered his hand with a smile.  "Lao Zi Bom."

    Dr. Thrax nodded but didn't shake it.  "I came right away," he said to the general.  "I'd like to return to my work.  What is so important?"

    "Something that may help you with that plant regeneration formula you've been struggling with," said the General.  "After the good Mr. Bom had informed us that a joint Chinese/USA patrol had discovered your lab here, and where the troops were, he also offered his services with helping us crack into the nuclear isotope lab's database back in Beijing."

    "Ah, yes," Dr. Thrax beamed with an evil, narrow-eyed glimmer.  "I'd been hoping for something to help with the mutagen part of my biological wing."  He looked to Lao Zi.  "And when did you get up with our cell here?"

    "I'd been in web contact with the good general for a couple of years now, and in fact, I was attached to the very patrol that was sniffing around this area.  I broke away and came here just yesterday."

    "So that explains why the prisoner count was one less than we expected."

    Relaxing on his big, overstuffed cushion, the general nodded and puffed some more.  "I trust our renumeration will be sufficient for your, ah, services to the Global Liberation Army."

    The hacker patted the big briefcase and the million U.S. dollars inside.  "It should be.  So as my own Deng Xiaoping has said, it does not matter if the cat is black or white, as long as he catches the mice."  He reached over to the young harem girl and tickled her chin.  "Of course, you, my dear are bigger than a mouse.  Much cuter, too." The girl forced a chuckle.

    "Well," the general chortled, "perhaps you'd like a try of some of the local blend mixed with some Chinese flowers, uh?  Rashida!  Get Mr. Bom the special stuff for this occasion!"

    Lao Zi reached for a tube.  "May I try some of this first?"

    "By all means."

    Dr. Thrax walked over, somewhat interested.  He glanced at Lao's computer.  "Is that new?"

    "Used, but quite cutting edge," Lao Zi said.  "The previous user doesn't need it anymore."



    Bone-weary and beaten, Black Lotus ached all over, especially in the head.  She started to roll it to clear it, but her neck was fastened down by what felt like a big metal cuff.  She felt cuffs around her ankles and wrists, too.  She was locked down on some sort of flat steel table. 

    Her vision sharpened as best it could in this dark, dry place.  It definitely wasn't cool, though.  She guessed the room temperature was at least 35 degrees Celsius.  At least she wasn't set out directly in the sun. 

    She quickly recalled what had happened.  She'd been sent with Dragon Squad in a Troop Crawler to scout Area 44 for any sort of activity.  They didn't appreciate having to go ahead of the American forces to sniff for traps, bombs and other neat little surprises.  But though her only weapon was her laptop, she was a soldier, and obeyed orders.  So did they.  She had hoped they could stay hidden, and if they were spotted or found anything, that some quick hacking would've shut down any operations or vehicles long enough for her fellow troops to get away.

    When they entered the Area, she'd spotted Sergeant Bom typing something very fast on his own notebook computer.  He seemed like he was cramming to pass an exam.  Before she could ask him about it, he quickly snapped the PC shut, and acted like nothing was up.  He had a very short attitude about it.  She just chalked it up to his being put out due to his having to cede the hacker section's CO spot when she showed up.  Seniority.  She couldn't help it.

    But before she could grill him more about it, the Troop Crawler's radar and stealth-buster ace, Sergeant Sum Ting Wong, had spotted some vehicles that weren't there on the last sweep.  Before he could radio them to identify themselves, a volley of rocket-propelled grenades slammed into vehicle.  Sgt. Bom sprang for the emergency exit quickly… as if he'd known in advance what was going down.

    The troops bailed out as quickly as they could.  Caught in an RPG blast, Sgt. Wong sadly didn't clear his station in time.  Terrible loss.  And the Red Guards rolled to take position… right in front of the rifle barrels of a mess of waiting GLA Rebels.  Lao had sunk to his knees already.  She was about to run, hide, and evade, but a rifle butt slammed into her skull, and she blacked out. 

    Slowly, despite her splitting headache, she recalled something that she'd caught reflected in Bom's glasses before the ambush.  A spreadsheet of some sort… and she figured out what the letters said backwards on the head banner… Lingstrom-Probst Commerzbank GmBH.

    And there had been a figure way higher than his, or even her, current pay grade could cover.

    That Lao Zi Bom had sold them out!  She was so angry, she wanted to spit, despite her parched, cracking throat. 

    Somebody was going to pay for this.

    Sadly, though, Black Lotus feared it was going to be her.

    To Be Continued…


    I am deeply intrigued by this story. *is a huge fan of C&C*

    Good job, I hope the next part comes quite quickly.  🙂


    Sorry I let this one fall by the wayside.  I keep meaning to finish it… I gotta uninstall Minesweeper and block MSN's Zone Games.  Here's something to tide us over…***

    As the hot, unrelieving wind kicked up sand in his face, Jamil trudged across the desert as slowly as his day's work had passed.  He wasn't kidding himself.  If he didn't get something to drink quickly, he'd end up like his foreman. 

    Blinking the last gust out of his eyes, he saw a building that wasn't there last week.  Much more modern than what he'd seen before.  He then remembered he'd brought pipes and plumbing supplies to the construction site there.  Certainly there would be water there. 

    He picked up his pace a notch more.  But then his hopes took a hit when he saw a foreboding guard blocking the front door.  It was an old acquaintence (not a friend, but at least he'd never struck at Jamil).  Mus'ad.  "What do you want?" he growled.

    Jamil didn't look him in the eye. "I am hoping to get some water," he peeped.

    "River's ten kilometers that way," Mus'ad huffed, pointing. 

    "Mus'ad, look, I am hot and–"

    "No, you look.  I'm under strictest orders straight from Dr. Thrax.  Any unauthorized personel within ten steps of this building are to be shot.  You're within eleven.  Now move on!"

    Jamil's heart surged up his throat.  That paranoid madman?! "Dr. Thrax?! Was he the one I saw in the palace a moment ago?"

    "Yes!"  Mus'ad brandished his rifle.  "Now leave!"

    Defeated, intimidated and thirsty, Jamil slumped his shoulders, ready to go away. But a nagging feeling wouldn't.  Something wasn't right about Mus'ad's face, it seemed greyer.  Even his posture was off, stiffer, stonier.  Mus'ad didn't quite seem 100% human.  (Well, he never was a soft heart, but now he looked even less so.) 

    Jamil decided to test something.  "I also noticed there were some new girls in the General's halls."

    Mus'ad's forehead wrinkled.  "Uh?"

    "New girls.  They must be additions to his harem."

    The soldier squinted his piggy eyes and said nothing for a few seconds.  "Pretty ones?"

    "I would think so."

    After a moment Mus'ad nodded.  Then he half smiled, and his real self showed through a little more.  "I'm checking it out." He threw Jamil his rifle.  "Cover for me."

    "But I am not allowed to take a weapon," Jamil protested.  "I am just a peasant."

    "Then you're under GLA orders!  Watch the door and don't let anyone in until I come back!"  And he double-timed it over to the palace's back entrance.

    Holding the weapon unevenly, Jamil looked at the door.  Then he looked at Mus'ad until he disappeared into the palace.  Then he scanned the horizon to make sure no foreign unfriendlies were around. 

    "I think I should keep a closer eye on what exactly I'm guarding," he rationalized to himself.  And he opened the door and let himself in.


    "Hoooo, hoohoohoo hoooooooooo!" 

    Eyes rolling crazily, Lao Zi was stoned out of his mind.  "Man… that is one… good… smoke."

    The general laughed along.  "I figured you would enjoy it."

    Sitting and sipping a coffee through a straw and a tiny slit in his veil, even Dr. Thrax seemed more relaxed, even guardedly jovial. 

    "So, anyway, in my civ days I just puttered around, trying to see if I could break in, man," Lao Zi giggled.  "I was, like, just bored.  And they hadn't even changed the passwords in over a year."

    "They hadn't?" the general inquired.

    "Shoot, the storage facilities near Lanzhou and Xian still had the original passcodes that came with the Windows 2000 systems!" he cackled. 

    "Weren't you concerned about getting caught?" Dr. Thrax asked.

    "I was.  By Black Lotus."  Lao waved it off.  "They sent the Red Guard to pick me up.  But High Command saw what I could do, called me a genius, and recruited me with their cyber division." He took another puff. "Even if I were caught today, I'd just say I was checking their security, and criticize them for not tightening up."

    The doctor snorted.  "With China one of the biggest hacker centers of the world, I find it most hard to believe its military would be so lax."

    "Oh, please.  I can show you myself.  Can you get wi-fi here?" 

    "No need.  I can connect your laptop directly into our own LAN here."

    Mellowed out and amenable to that, Lao then staggered over and pecked away.  Soon he showed off his skills, still 'leet even after his toking.  He cracked into the warehouse with ease, and as a bonus, tapped into the security cameras showing Hong Kong Chief Executive Donald Tsang in the shower, and rearranged the military lane's traffic alert signs in Shanghai so they read, "USA Pathfinders Are Turnips."
    "Very, very impressive," said the general.  "Perhaps you can also arrange it so the Red Air Force military hospital in Guangzhou can transfer a few kilograms of their human genome isolation isotope to their storage facility in Kashgar."

    His laughter died down quickly at that.  He seemed to sober up in a hurry.  "That will cost extra," he said dryly.

    "Oh come now," smiled the general.  "Just for a goof.  They won't miss it."

    He waved his hand no.  "Business is business."

    "Ah, yes," Dr. Thrax nodded.  "Just like my friend Jarman Kell would say.  Very well.  Maybe you might be interested in a trade?  Something that might be worth, say, your services and, oh, the cash we just gave you?"

    Lao Zi stared, trying to focus.  Then he started giggling again.  "Like what? Certain photos of my previous C.O.?"

    Dr. Thrax actually chuckled at that.  "Even more valuable."  He reached in his coat's pocket and pulled out two small small vial. He passed one to the general, who sipped it readily.  And Dr. Thrax held up the other for their guest to see. 

    Lao Zi squinted.  "What's that?"


    The hacker's forehead wrinkeld.  "Antidote?  For what?"

    The general snickered with a snort as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.  "For the poison you just inhaled!"

    Lao Zi's face paled grayly.  Then he started cackling again, partly from the drugs, partly from the panic.

    "Mr. Bom," the doctor cautioned, "that poison can drop an adult camel in ten seconds.  It's a little slower on humans, moreso with the dilution by the tabamel, but not that much slower." 

    Soon Lao Zi's breath got very coated and shallow.  He tugged at his collar.  It was like asthma to the fourth degree.  Quickly he pecked into the laptop, and shunted a load over to where his hosts indicated.  But he said, "Your contact will need an authorization code to pick it up."

    "So give us one," said the general. 

    He trembled.  "I want my cash!"

    "I've never seen a hearse with a luggage rack, Mr. Bom."

    He quickly typed some more, and held a finger one inch over one key.  "I just undid all the work I did for you!  And I set the computer to reformat the hard drive in thirty seconds.  If you don't give me the antidote AND money, my computer will erase itself, I'll die, and you will get nothing!"


    "I'm not!" 

    The seconds ticked away.  Sweat went down Lao Zi Bom's brow.  His breathing grew more labored.  The general and Dr. Thrax sat patiently with their hands folded.  Then finally the timer on his laptop read :05… :04… :03… :02… :01… :00.

    Horrible grinding noises came from under the keyboard as the screen went blank.  Lao Zi fell down to the floor, choking and rasping, and staring up at his murderers.  "You… you…"

    Dr. Thrax shook his head in mock sadness.  "How terribly tragic.  A horrible loss of a good computer man.  I guess the Global Liberation Army will have to struggle on without your help."

    "Not necessarily," said the general.  "As I believe our guest's crazy next door neighbor Kim Jong Il has said, there are three kinds of fools in the 21st century:  those who won't learn English, smokers…" and here he held up his hooka's tube, which wasn't connected to the bowl, "…and the computer illiterate."  He pointed to his own LAN computer.  "We sent a little bit of spyware into your deck, which monitored, saved, and backed up all your actions onto our own partitioned hard drive.  We've got every password, address, information packet and letter peck we need to go back and do it again." 

    His skin turning a literal shade of green, Lao Zi Bom wheezed shrilly, unable to speak.  He silently mouthed, "How could you do this to me?!"

    "What did you expect?  You betrayed your own nation for money.  You probably would've done the same to us once you'd left.  We simply got the last laugh first."

    And the treasonous computer ace then turned a full ashen green, and started to retch and gag.  A rattle sounded in his voice box… and then his chest sank for the very last time.  And then his body started to smoke as it began its rapid decomposition.

    Dr. Thrax tightened the veil around his face.  "I've seen this countless times.  And while I appreciate it, I'm still not quite used to the smell."

    The general nodded.  "Me, I simply cannot watch such a gruesome fate to someone I've known all these years.  Let us go to the harem.  Rashida!  Broom and dustpan!"

    To Be Continued


    Woot update!  😀

    Cant' wait for more.


    Very nice!


    :mrgreen: Good job Jimmy….good job. *bows*


    Jamil walked down the hall.  "Rifles aren't supposed to slosh like that, are they?" he whispered to himself, as he heard the liquid move inside.  It looked very much like a spray with a nozzle at the end of the barrel.  Was it a flame-thrower?  He finally found another similarly armed, similary grey-faced guard posted at a door, who looked his way.

    "About time," he muttered.  "My watch ended an hour ago."  And he tossed Jamil a ring of keys and marched for the exit. 

    Jamil blinked.  How could security be this lax?  But then he could tell in the guard's nervous eyes he just wanted to get out of there in a hurry.  The worker wondered if he was missed yet at the stack of supplies.

    But his curiosity got the the better of him.  He took a peek through the door, which had a plexiglass window.

    Inside the room was a laboratory all full of pipes, tanks, faucets, and locked glass cabinets with bottles, beakers, tubes, canisters, vials, and other things.  Many of them had the three intersecting cresents warning logo.  Biohazard.  Even he knew that stuff was dangerous.  No wonder the guard was ready to leave.

    And he saw a sink inside.  Just what he was looking for.  Fumbling through the key ring, he  searched for the one that would unlock the door.  After the fifth try, he found it, and opened up.

    He walked in, ready to stick his head under the faucet and grab a mouthful or three.  But off to his left, he spotted something else.  A refrigerator.  It reminded him of one time he'd gone into the nearest town.  A store there had two grand luxuries:  an electric generator and a working cooler.  He'd looked into there and saw all sorts of colorful, sweet drinks that'd tickle the nose… and the cool air felt so good. He would have stood there all day until the storekeeper yelled at him to buy something, or close the door; he couldn't afford to cool the whole desert.

    Maybe there was something to drink inside?  He reached for the handle… and saw a keyhole just over the handle.  A lock.  His heart sank. 

    Before he turned away back to the sink, though, he noticed the fridge was making a lot of noise working. 

    He then remembered just after he'd opened the cooler's door and before the store owner yelled at him, the cooler's motors kicked in.  And the small fridge here was working overtime itself now just like that.

    Could he hope… dared he?

    He did, and tugged at the door.  Yes!  It was ajar by a hair, and the lock hadn't latched shut!  Swinging it open, Jamil found thirteen containers inside:  12 red tins with a white wavy stripe each, and a brown mediciney-looking bottle.  He instantly recognized the tins as Coke cans, and the other — well, his reading ability was near zero, since he'd been pressed into hard labor at the age of ten.  But he could make out some of the Arabic on the brown bottle's label:  nu… nutri… nu..

    He smiled.  Nutrients!  It must be good for you! 

    His throat ached.  The brown bottle seemed about one and a half liters large.  Certainly they wouldn't miss too much if he just had a sip.  He pulled the stopper out, raised the bottle to his lips and tilted it back.

    "Phleaugh!"  He quickly spat the medicine out without swallowing a drop.  "How do they expect someone to drink something that's good for them if it tastes so terrible?"

    Then he heard a groan behind him.  Turning around, he saw a big plexiglass window on the wall.  It showed the next room:  inside was an Oriental woman in a military uniform he didn't recognize.  She was locked down atop a lab table.  He drew closer to the window for a better look.  The Chinese prisoner looked quite shapely, and her face was lovely, despite the bruises and swellings from her beating.  He shook his head.  He knew women should know their place, but she didn't deserve that.  Even if she WAS the enemy.

    Then Jamil got a good hard look at her skin, and his heart sickened and raced at the same time.  Her face looked just like Jamil's foreman's before he'd gotten sunstroke.

    He raced to the other room's door and searched furtively for the keys.  Certainly the interrogators couldn't pull any vital information out her if she died. 

    Still, no point in making it too comfortable… he'd give her the bitter drink.  He would have a Coke.

    He took out a can and the brown bottle. Leaving the rifle by the door so she wouldn't take if if she broke free and jumped him, he crept up to the captive.  Her breath was pretty shallow.  He tilted the bottle's mouth to her lips and poured a small trickle.  She didn't go for it.  He poured a little more, just a sip's worth.  Still not moving.  Finally he tilted a bit more…

    And he almost jumped when her lips wrapped around the bottle's mouth, and grabbed a big gulp when he stopped being stingy with it.  He broke off, and eyed her.  Her face twisted in disgust, but as a proverb went, thirst is the greatest drink sweetener.  She gulped it down, and her body's color looked a little more like itself.

    Satisfied and locking the door behind him, he went back to the fridge, stopped up the bottle again, and put it back in.  Then he grabbed a Coke, closed and locked the fridge, popped the can open, and knocked it back.  Mmmm, he thought.  The Americans might be insufferable accursed infidel dogs, but they knew how to make a good fizzy drink.

    After he finished it all too quickly, he put the can in a waste basket, took the strange rifle and headed out to the hall.  Locking the lab door behind himself, he decided it might be wisest to go to his original sentry post outside. 

    Twilight was already there.  The sun had disappeared faster than Jamil's Coke, and the desert air was almost as cold already.  He looked around, hoping that Mus'ad would come back and relieve him soon.  True, the guy'd have to explain why that guard wasn't at the laboratory's door, but better him than Jamil.

    Blam!  He heard a single pistol shot off in the distance.  From the palace.  Jamil squinted, and there was enough light to make out a body thrown out of the back door.  He saw two figures coming out after it.  And he cringed. 

    It was Dr. Thrax and the general.


    "That will teach him not to violate my women," the general growled, packing his smoking Colt .45 back in its holster. 

    "I feared leaving my lab was a bad idea," Dr. Thrax groaned.  "Now we've got to dash back and make sure the place is still secure."

    As they drew closer, the mad scientist squinted.  "Wait a minute… I don't recognize that guard.  Well, I do, but he's not one of mine."

    The general stared.  Then he started.  "That's Jamil from earlier!  What is he doing there?!  You!  Put down that weapon and stay right where you are!"

    As Jamil dropped it with a clatter, they broke into a quick jog, and closed the distance.  "Jamil!  Did I or did I not tell you to get to work on the other supply pile?!"  The worker trembled nervously.  "Answer me, you pile of offal!"

    "Y-y-y-you did, sir."

    "Well, what are you doing HERE, then!"

    "M-m-m-mus'ad ordered me to watch the place while he was gone."

    "He did, did he?" The general marched right up into Jamil's personal space and leaned his shoulder at him, pointing at it.  "Do you see these?  What are they?"

    "G-g-g-general stars, sir."


    "No, sir.  But he did have a weapon, sir."

    The general snorted in disgust.  "As do I."  And he reached for the .45 again.

    But Dr. Thrax held up a hand.  "General!  If you please!"  And he closed in at the trembling laborer and looked him over.  After an eternally long moment, he picked up the liquid rifle.  "Were you really intimidated by this weaponry?"

    "Yes, sir."

    The doctor nodded. "Do you have any iota what's in there?"

    "N-not really, sir." 

    Thrax's veil didn't hide his sinister, menacing grin very well.  "Follow me in.  You're going to get an object lesson on the hazards of protecting what you do not know."

    And he led the way, with Jamil tailed by the general, who still kept a hand casually near his pistol's holster.


    "Another guard AWOL?" the mad scientist grumbled as they reached the lab. 

    "You've got to do something about the discipline of your troops," the general smirked.

    "I will, I will." He turned to Jamil.  "Starting with this one.  Jamil, right?"  He extended his hand and swept it around the room.  "See all this?  Have you ever heard of something called Anthrax Beta?  25% stronger than the regular stuff?"  Jamil nodded.  Dr. "Well, this is something we've just developed called Anthrax Gamma.  Even stronger than that."

    He reached for a control panel and twisted a dial.  The door to the Chinese prisoner's room airtightly hissed shut. "This is what might have happened to you if you'd opened the wrong thing, Jamil.  And what WILL happen to you if you don't follow the high command's orders to the letter from now on." 

    "Wait a minute!" the general protested.  "That's Black Lotus!  She probably has vital information!  We must interrogate her!"

    Dr. Thrax shook his head.  "That would be fruitless.  I've read her dossier.  Won't crack, and she probably knows we'd kill her anyway after she talked."

    He pressed a button.  From overhead, a purple gas leaked out and descended.  It coated her, as she wriggled furioiusly but futilely against her shackles.  Shortly, she started to sweat, and her face and fingers swelled, like an allergic reaction.  She groaned loudly, like she had a very bad migraine.

    Jamil held a hand up to his mouth.  The general leaned toward the window for a better view.  "Looks very effective… though I thought it would be quicker."

    Dr. Thrax's brow furrowed seriously.  "Something's not quite right.  She should have turned lavender and be coughing up her lungs by now."

    Black Lotus' legs bent at the knees.  That puzzled the officers, since she was strapped flat against the table so she couldn't move at all.  She was also bending her arms at the elbows.  Her groans got shorter and more staccato, like she was giving birth. 

    "Wait a minute," the general murmured.  "Are her limbs getting longer?"

    "And thicker," added the stymied doctor.  "They're bending because there's no other way to make room."

    "Her body, too," Jamil peeped, fascinated.

    And yes, her trunk was growing stouter, truly man-sized.  She arched her back, raising her pelvis up.  Stitches snapped, and buttons popped and flew off, clacking on the floor.  And while she was never less than athletic, her now-too-small midnight-dark uniform coat revealed her red tank top and a broadening body.  The GLA men saw signs of six-pack abs pushing through.  Under her coat sleeves, her Coke can-size biceps were growing as well, pushing the fabric up.  Her thighs broadened as well, about soccer-ball thick and expanding.  And her chest?  Well, her bodice never was slight, but they were steadily ballooning to the size of the mens' heads, and beyond.

    And as she kept on growing, her groans got lower and more guttural.  And she started to growl with them.  Stitch pops became tears.  The sleeves ripped away from her coat's shoulder holes, revealing strong arms with biceps the size of two-liter Coke bottles.  And her forearms, her neck, and even her wrists and fists were thickening.  They pulsed, and veins surfaced as she tugged against her restraints.  Finally with a "NnnnnnyeeeaAARGH!", she wrenched her right arm free, ripping her wrist cuff right off the table's mounting. 

    That made the officers and Jamil jump.  The worker backed into the wastebasket, knocked it over, and dumped the empty cola can out.  Dr. Thrax looked down at the clanking tin, then stared up to Jamil's face, which didn't hide things very well.

    "You!  You know about this?!  Did you get into my fridge?!" Dr. Thrax accused.

    "I-I-I-I…" Jamil stammered.

    Thrax fished up a tiny key, unlocked the fridge, and swung it open.  "Just as I thought!"

    "I am sorry!" Jamil whined.  "I will pay you back for the Coke as soon–"

    "Stuff the Coke!"  Thrax pulled out the brown bottle, and checked the fluid level.  He then leveled his eyes at Jamil's with the most dangerous glint ever.  "To try to deceive the judicious is to bare your back for the scourge, Jamil.  Did you or did you not give that woman anything to drink from this bottle?"

    Too terrified to do otherwise, Jamil nodded shiveringly.  "I did, sir."

    Crack! went another cuff next door.  Thrax's veil fell, revealing his jaw dropped all the way down.  "YOU IDIOT!!" Slamming the bottle down on a counter, he grabbed the lackey by the throat and slammed his back against the wall.  "Do you have any iota what you've just done?!  DO YOU?!"  Jamil just shook his head stupidly.  "That is a prototype regenerative enzyme I've engineered to make contanimated plants quickly grow back again after a battle!  WMD-grade biological and chemical agents trigger it!"

    "But that woman isn't a plant…" Jamil countered weakly.

    "You offspring of a camel and a whore!  The formula hasn't been completed yet!  IT MAKES ALL LIVING THINGS GROW FAST!"

    Crack! Crack! SMASH! A ham-sized fist burst right through the plexiglass.  Spinning around, Thrax saw Black Lotus, eight feet tall and almost four feet wide, arms akimbo and bursting with muscle, and her coat-now-vest barely keeping the topside naughty stuff covered.  The general whipped out his pistol and fired two shots at her.  Her two-gallon sized upper arms took the bullets, and were hurt no worse than stepping on a nail.  "Ow!  Ow!"  She leapt forward lunging at him, batting the gun out of his grip, scattering it into a corner.  He dove for it, while Thrax turned the dial shutting off the gas so she didn't grow more.  Released, Jamil dashed out the door for his life. 

    Not looking, he clipped past another soldier charging in with one of those liquid guns.  The trooper snapped to when he found the commotion.  "Toxin Rebel Achmet Agrabah reporting!  Stand clear, sirs!"  And he leveled the longarm.

    "NO!" shouted the general.  "Don't shoot!"

    Too late, Achmet pulled the trigger.  A stream of Day-Glo purple fluid jetted out and nailed Black Lotus squarely in the torso.  She grunted, outstretched and tensed her limbs, and clenched her fists.  With gurgling from inside, her body then sloshed and shifted as if she were a water balloon.  Then she expanded, growing taller and taller until her head hit the roof.  Stooping down to her knees, her head soaked up some toxin, too.  Her long, rich, thick black hair then streamed out like Melisande's, and spread down to her 6th-grader sized calves.  She crouched, and steadily expanded until she was the size and mass of an  SUV.  And her body was still filling the room, and pushing against the dividing wall through the plexiglass window space. 

    The general pulled out a cell phone and started hitting buttons.  "Alert!  We have a situation in the chemical lab!  Asp Quad Cannon Platoon, and all infantry, report there immediately!  And for Allah's sake, bring conventional assault rifles!"  He barrel rolled away from a sweep of Lotus' grasping hand, now big enough for him to sit in. 

    "Thraaaaax," the giantess rumbled.  Now her back pressed up against the ceiling.


    Abdul-Adham drove the Toxin Tractor toward the base.  He'd gotten his commision to vehicle officer two weeks ago, and he was very proud.  He was planning to get the new Gamma stuff for his tanks.  But now he heard the squawk of the general on the radio, and he saw the rebels sprinting in.  He stepped on the gas.  He knew the call was for the Quad Cannons, but he figured initiative would be rewarded. 

    He toodled toward the new laboratory building, where the troops were assembling, getting rifles ready.  That didn't please him; he'd have to put up with the warnings of friendly fire, contaminating the landscape and fellow troops, blah blah blah. 

    But then he noticed the building was creaking and cracking.  Much of the stone was starting to crumble, and were there some signs of leaks?

    Crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch, ka-THOOOM!  Ascending through the building's roof was this massive naked Chinese female colossus, about three stories tall, long dark hair streaming down to her knees.  Spotlights clacked on, and shone on her muscles and breasts, which looked like they had been blown up by a very powerful pump. 

    Well, he knew a thing about pumps himself.  He turned his on, and got the Anthrax Beta up to the nozzle.  "Okay, China girl," he sniped over the radio.  "I've got a tasty treat for you.  You may find the flavour a little strong!"

    "Wait! Toxin Tractor Unit!" Dr. Thrax screamed through the radio.

    "I've got a clear shot over the Rebels' heads, don't worry!" Abdul-Adham reassured.  "All right, Ling-Ling, come and get it!"


    Gooosh!  A bright blue stream blasted out like from a fire hose and splattered all over Black Lotus.  More internal gurgling, and the giantess spread her arms out, like it was a warm shower.  And she got even huger.  Taller.  Heavier.  Wider.  Her height doubled to six stories.  Instantly, the soldiers and the ZSU-23-4 anti-air guns blasted away.  She rocked back a little, but the bullets hurt no more than a bunch of bug bites.  She glowered down at the little warriors, who now looked like action figures to her.

    "Hey!" she roared.  "Stop that!  That stings!"  And she stomped down in their general directions, scattering them all over.  Then she crunched down on the Quad Cannons, and flattened them and their drivers like Gallagher's sledgehammer would watermelons. 

    A solitary rifle shot cracked.  A sniper had plugged the Toxin Tractor's driver right through the eyes, stopping the cannon's flow.

    "ATTENTION ALL UNITS!" the general screamed over the PA system and radio.  "Return to base!  Use ONLY conventional and explosive fire against this monster!  Anyone using toxins will be dunked in his own ammo!"

    Black Lotus shivered.  The night air WAS bitingly cold.  She wished she had something to cover up with.  Then she looked down.  Aha!  She found a Stinger missle site covered by camo netting!  Reaching down, she stripped it right off, and wrapped it around her torso as best as she could around her waist.  The guys with the rockets fired up, and yes, this did hit her like a fast ball.  Another foot down on the foxhole sent them scurrying for cover, though.  She saw them run for another covered place.  After stripping the netting off for her torso, she found the gate for a tunnel network.  And she heard vehicles rumbling inside.

    "Oh, no you dont!"  And she grabbed the wreckage from the destroyed vehicles, shoved them into the cave's mouth, and blocked off the opening.  So much for the reinforcements.

    Jamil cowered under a truck as he witnessed this mammoth Mu Lin make short work of the base.  Soon she was demolishing the arms dealer's garage.  Then she crushed the barracks just by sitting on it.  Then she powerbombed on the supply stash. 

    "By the Prophet!" he wailed.  "What have I done?!"

    Suddenly the truck he hid under whooshed away.  Black Lotus had grabbed it, and pitched it into yet another Stinger missle site.  He shrieked and started to run.

    Whoomp!  A wall of gigantic fingers landed right in front of him.  Yelping, he backpedaled the other way… and slammed into another finger fence.  He looked up at the immense face hanging over him.  He gulped at the leviathan he'd created.  There was probably only one thing it probably wanted of him now… and it wouldn't do the job as neatly and quickly as he could!

    He reached down for an abandoned bayonet, and aimed it right at his heart.

    Thupp!  He sent it right into one of her blocking gigantic fingers.  The other hand's index finger and thumb then grabbed his arm, and pinched just hard enough to force him to drop it.  Then those fingers hoisted him up, nearly dislocating his arm, and dangled him over 50 feet above the ruins.

    "Where are the prisoners kept?" Black Lotus asked calmy.

    Jamil somehow scraped up his last bit of defiance.  "Do your worst!" he shrieked.  "I'll show you how a GLA man faces death!"

    "Seen it too much already tonight."

    She tilted her hand back, let him flop back in her palm, wrapped her fingers gently but more securely around his whole body, and moved him closer to her face, which was twice as tall as he was.

    "Listen, Jamil," she spoke softly.  "Do you hear that?  Those are MiG and Raptor fighter jets, and probably some bombers with fuel air bombs to incinerate this place.  They're coming now that I've destroyed the anti-aircraft guns.  The rest of your so-called brothers in arms have fled by now, if the toxins haven't killed them.  Are you going help me save my comrades, or are you going to join the rubble of a demolished thuggish tyranny that never deserved your loyalty in the first place?"

    Jamil stared at his captor a moment.  Then he sighed and looked around.  "There," he said, pointing.  "The pits are there, to the east."

    She smiled grandly.  "Thank you."  And she marched over there, carrying him over.

    And all the other surviving troopers with her unit, and some USA pilots, were down in the craters, covered with steel grates.  While stunned to see their high-rise rescuer, their gratitude was just as big.  Black Lotus quickly uprooted the grates singlehandedly, and the prisoners scrambled up. 

    "If the poisons don't get us, the air strike will!" she said.  "Hurry, climb aboard!" And the Chinese and Americans clamored up her limbs, and shoulders and she secured them as tightly with the camo netting as she could. 

    "And you, Jamil," she said with a sly smile, "get the best seat aboard."

    And she gently towed him toward her chest, and planted him doveishly but firmly between her collossal breasts.  "Secure?"

    Jamil was blushing up a storm as the masses of soft flesh engulfed him.  "I am most comfortable, thank you."

    "Everyone else okay?  All right, hang on.  I'll make this as fast but smooth as I can."

    And she dashed off away from the oncoming planes.


    "I hate having to share information this close to the vest, but this is a major concern," said General Shin Fai.  "Our operative Black Lotus had reported finding a chemical weapon base near here, and she hasn't reported back yet.  Our other intellegence said that some of your pilots scouting around had been shot down beforehand, and–"

    General "Ace" Granger held up a hand and listened to his headset.  Then he smiled.  "Got good news.  Colonel Burton on land recon just confirmed it, and so have our satellites.  Black Lotus is taking all our boys back to our base right now."

    General Fai's eyebrows rose.  "She is near?  You have seen her?" 

    "Seen her?  You can't miss her!"


    Colonel Burton stared up as the soldiers climbed down.  "I'd seen it all," he muttered.  "Until today."

    Black Lotus smiled.  "I believe my days as a covert operative are over.  Stealth ability's neutralized."


    "Word is the boys with our Army medical wings are sending over some top physiologists to find out what they can."

    The colonel looked up to Jamil, still snug in her bodice.  "Well, well, if that don't beat everything.  Heck of a way to catch us a prisoner."

    She arched an eyebrow.  "Us?  Sorry, but we've seen the pictures of Gitmo.  He's staying with the People's Republic."  And she stood up and turned toward the Chinese section.  "Care for something to eat, Jamil? Our cooks do great Muslim cuisine."

    "Yes, please," Jamil said with a smile.


    Rashida staggered through the rubble.  It was terrible what that pig of a general had put her and her fellow harem girls through, but at least they had a roof over her head and food.  The jets and that Chinese monstrosity did not allow them to have even that. 

    She curled her fist bitterly.  Why did all her sisters have to suffer under this stupid war?  If she could work her will, she would make sure ALL of them would be strong enough to stop the suffering, and protect their families.  She'd make sure all the money went to their children, schools, and medicine, not to the nearest bar like too many of the troopers.

    She hacked up a cough.  Without water, she feared she'd not have to worry about any of that again, though. 

    Tossing aside the broken concrete chunks, she sifted through the wreckage, looking for something to scavenge or sell.  Or eat.  Or drink.

    Then she found a dark brown bottle.  Somehow it survived the whole ordeal. 

    Pulling out the stopper, she sniffed.  Mmngh.  Mediciney.  But she raised it to her lips and took a swallow.  She figured with the bad-smelling nasty chemicals seeping all around, she wasn't much longer for this world anyway.  She doubted this stuff would make things much worse.

    …The End…?


    Awesome!!!  😀

    I really hope you do continue the story with Black Lotus *being hit no less by Dr. Thrax's scud storm* or Rashida. 👿


    That's assuming the doc survived, Captain Blah.  👿 

    But… there's always the boss at the end of Zero Hour's Generals Challenge, the Tigress. 😉

    (tries to think of a cool name for the new fourth faction for the Amazons)


    That's assuming the doc survived, Captain Blah.  👿 

    But… there's always the boss at the end of Zero Hour's Generals Challenge, the Tigress. 😉

    (tries to think of a cool name for the new fourth faction for the Amazons)

    >_> I'm sure the Doc survived…

    The GLA has those holes  😆

    and that's true… the Tigress does have access to uhm… everything in the game  😀

Viewing 10 posts - 1 through 10 (of 11 total)
  • You must be logged in to reply to this topic.