| The armies were massing on the hills, on the outskirts of the city, it was clear that they wanted to confront the boy, with the minimum of damage to the civilian buildings. Isn't that just too bad, thought the boy, who did not like being awakened from his nap, with the sting of hits, from the cannons of the war helicopters. Twelve Apaches in formation headed towards his face, each with a ruby laser sight line, pointing to his eyes. Puffs of smoke indicated the launch of the air to ground heat seeking missiles, while vapor trails marked the trajectory of the ground based missiles . A line up of sixty tanks approached in formation, their cannons blasting, their sights were focused on the boy's exposed groin area. A number of surveillance jets passed over the boys head, reporting back to their base commanders, observing far from the melee. Then there was the ground troops, like a marching swath, the tiny soldiers covered the ground, behind the tanks. Their swastikas flying behind the fighting troops, indicating where the command units were stationed. This was their concentrated effort as saving their city. The heat seeking missiles struck the boy on his thighs and stomach area, the made large explosions, but they might as well have been blasting at twelve foot thick steel plates. The boy felt a slight sting, this did little but anger him, another volley was launched, It was the shot's toward his eyes that bothered the boy, he shielded them with his wrist, as the cannons let loose. Again, the blasts exploded on the boys arm, without so much as breaking his skin. The Helicopters backed off, and circled around for another pass at the giant. They were fast, but the boys reflexes were terrific, the boy whipped his hand, grabbing the first machine, and like swatting at a gnat, the boy easily knocked it out of the sky, it plummeted to the ground in a fiery explosion. The Apaches broke formation, now each one was zooming in toward a different body part, hoping for a more massive hit. They were desperate to draw blood. One flew behind the boys back, and came up behind his neck, cannons blasting, the boy swatted it like a mosquito, it squashed against the boys back. With Full weaponry blazing, five helicopters made a charge towards the boys face, They had accurately surmised that the only place the boy might be vulnerable would be at his eyes, they were going in for a point blank hit, the boy swung around, the blasts directly hitting the side of the boys face, They were sending their most powerful weapons up against the boy. The missiles had no effect, other than a short sting, more often than not, the boy was able to nimbly dodge the trails, and then retaliate by charging the launchers. At the first volley, the boy just stood still, seeking to gauge the worst that they could dish out, but after being hit, although not hard enough to be anything more than a nuisance, He decided to go on the offensive. First, all the Helicopters had to go. The Jets were trickier, but after the air forces were taken over, he would mop up the ground assault. They attacked savagely and just as quickly were dispatched. The boy swung, with catlike reflexes, at speeds that the ground troops could not anticipate, knocking aircraft out of the sky, and directing the fiery wrecks toward the forces below. The boy could catch even the fastest helicopters in his hand, with crushing force. He jabbed and punched, dodged and blocked, all the while delivering death blows toward his attackers. The jet bombers were flying higher than his reach, dropping their most powerful payload, one hit, actually drew blood. A small trickle ran down the boys shoulder. The boy searched quickly for some projectile to launch back at them, he had to do something to bring the speedy high flying craft down. Pilots soon realized the folly of flying low, as the boy pulled them from out of the air in mid-flight, and dashed them to the ground, the smart ones kept their altitude. The boy swooped to the ground, grabbing a hand full of tanks, these he jettisoned, like a child skipping stones on a lake, at the high flyers. He laughed as a tank tore through the fuselage of one of the slower moving bombers, as the plane broke up, a puff of twenty parachutes dotted the sky. Drifting closer and closer to the boys anxious grasp. The boy tore the screaming paratroopers to bloody shreds. Attack me, will you! Like David defending himself against Goliath, the boy proved to be an uncanny shot, The sky was full of parachuters abandoning their doomed craft. He grabbed handfuls of tanks, directing them at the remaining jets, and sometimes at the ground based launchers. Terrified, the tank commanders, reversed their weapons, not aware of the ground forces that were following close behind. Many of their own men were caught under the retreating tanks. The generals seeing how their own tanks were being used as weapons against the aircraft, commanded the tanks to get out of there, but where could they go to escape the boys clutches? The larger slow flying bombers all met fiery ends, but there was one last bomber quickly entering the range, it was flying twice as fast, and the boy figured that this was probably the biggest weapon yet, it was flying so fast that it made a pass at the boy, shooting a red beam, the boy grabbed at it, without strain and missed it, it got by him, leaving a long but shallow cut along his side. Strike one, thought the boy, the cut didn't bother him, it was only a scratch. He followed the path of the jet, as it banked left and circled around while climbing to safety. It was going to make another pass, as it started its next run, the boy noticed a bay door opening in the front, it was armed with some kind of missile, it was aimed straight at his chest, it was approaching super fast, the boy didn't wait for the launch, he ducked low, the jet didn't fire it's main weapon, but it darted past his ear, he had been cut again ! Strike two. Angrily he grabbed a handful of tanks, and flung them at the retreating bomber, it still had it's major bomb, and was going to make another attempt. As a race car entering it's final curve, the plane banked and adjusted altitude for the approach. The boy crouched like a catcher waiting for the plane, he had a plan. The jet was flying low now, the pilots watched the mountain of a boy loom larger, they set the data and came up with a path that would lead to a direct hit. Just the concussion from the impact alone would stop the giants heart, all they needed was one shot. With grim determination to carry out his plan, the boy held his position. The jet was darting in racing toward it's target. The boy stood still, the countdown came, Ready, Aim?The boy at the last moment, like a bullfighter stepped to the side, and spun to his right, the jet passed too close, the pilot and crew were jolted as the boy grabbed the wing of the craft in his spinning left hand. Without letting up speed, the boy spun the jet back in the direction of the troops. The weapon fired and the boy watched as many of the ground troops in the back, were incinerated by their own weaponry. The jet itself could not right itself and adjust it's course. It slammed like a fireball into the headquarter station, setting off a second ground explosion. Allright! Shouted the boy, Now it's my turn. He vented his fury on the ground troops. Their weapons were useless. Die you miserable scum, he stomped on the retreating forces, heads were smashed for miles around, The ground ran red with the blood of the fallen. The boy was breathing heavy, after the slaughter, but he was elated. Now he would do his job and finish off the city. "All that you do is just, do what you have to, do what you want to, and know that however you punish them, the punishment is deserved" So the voice sang in the back of the boys mind, but he couldn't recall who said it. |