Mostly writing this whenever I have writers block for my other (fantasy deconstruction) project. I'll try and write a post's worth every week though, regardless.
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Prologue
Kutha (modern day Tell Ibrahim), American-occupied Iraq
Professor David Mallowborn looked supremely pleased with himself, and to be honest, this wasn't entirely unjustified. The discoveries he and his archaeological team had made at the site in the past two months had been nothing short of extraordinary. In particular, yesterday had been impressive. Finally managing to breach the central nave of the sunken Ziggurat, they had unearthed a treasure trove of Sumerian artefacts, enough to silence the various critics of this trip from his own department, and more. That he had surpassed the findings of Hormuzd Rassam, the famous Assyriologist who had spent 4 weeks here in 1881 and had only found broken pots, didn't exactly hurt, either.
He was broken from his self-congratulatory musings as he saw the "sergeant" from BlackRiver Security. He felt somewhat uncomfortable about having mercenaries, especially ones as infamous as BlackRiver, guarding the dig, but he supposed, it was the lesser of two evils. They had help pay for the expedition after all, and Iraq could be very dangerous. Mallowborn remembered his brief time in Baghdad with a shudder. The explosions, the gunfire by night, armed men everywhere... No, even if BlackRiver did have a reputation for ruthlessness, they were undeniably efficient. Even the State Department was said to have a contract with them, preferring their security to that provided by the U.S. military. And he might need that sort of protection here, since not only was Babil Governorate part of the infamous Sunni "Triangle of Death", there were more recent rumours suggesting that Al-Qaeda in Mesopotamia had established a base of operations near Al Hillah.
Despite his reservations about mercenaries, he got on well with their sergeant though. He seemed a bright and affable young man, who had taken quite an interest in their findings. He had explained, somewhat sheepishly, that he'd always had an interest in ancient history, and had paid rapt attention to the work that Mallowborn's team had undertaken.
"Evening, Eddie" he said. The man nodded, before pulling up a crate to sit on.
"Evening doctor" he replied, "how goes the work?"
"Pretty good. It seems that the account of the city in the Shalmaneser Obelisk and Bible is correct. When we breached the inner sanctum of the Ziggurat, we discovered artefacts related to the worship of Nergal."
"He was that creepy god you were telling me about, right? The god of fire and disease and the underworld, yeah?"
"That's correct" said the professor, pleased he had remembered. "Though of course he was associated with other things, like war, for example", he said, thinking again of Baghdad. Noontime and the summer solstice, too."
"Still sounds fucked up to me. Why would anyone want to worship something like that?"
"My best guess is to prevent the destructive aspects of his power's being turned on them."
"I guess" replied the sergeant, sounding unconvinced. "Is there anything more to get out of the temple then?"
"Not really. There might be other sites nearby, but as far as I can tell, we're done with the Ziggurat."
"Good" said the mercenary, as he swung up a pistol he had kept concealed behind his leg, and fired a shot into the professor's forehead.
Mallowborn didn't even have the time to look surprised as the bullet ripped through his brain. Whatever words he had been about to say died on his lips, and he slumped then toppled out of his chair. Eddie looked at him a moment, then got up and pulled out his radio. "The professor is dead. Kill the rest of his team and secure the artefacts for transport."
"Understood, sir" a voice crackled back. "What should we do with the bodies?"
"We can dump then in the Tigris, once we're back in Baghdad. No-one's going to notice a few more bodies floating down there nowadays. Make sure they're unrecognizable first."
"Of course, sir. Over and out."
"Over and out", he replied. Eddie glanced again at the professor's corpse. "Sorry about that, doctor. But there are bigger issues than your vanity at stake here." He glanced up at the brilliant night sky of Iraq, with the stars shining down, and went to work.
=======================
Prologue
Kutha (modern day Tell Ibrahim), American-occupied Iraq
Professor David Mallowborn looked supremely pleased with himself, and to be honest, this wasn't entirely unjustified. The discoveries he and his archaeological team had made at the site in the past two months had been nothing short of extraordinary. In particular, yesterday had been impressive. Finally managing to breach the central nave of the sunken Ziggurat, they had unearthed a treasure trove of Sumerian artefacts, enough to silence the various critics of this trip from his own department, and more. That he had surpassed the findings of Hormuzd Rassam, the famous Assyriologist who had spent 4 weeks here in 1881 and had only found broken pots, didn't exactly hurt, either.
He was broken from his self-congratulatory musings as he saw the "sergeant" from BlackRiver Security. He felt somewhat uncomfortable about having mercenaries, especially ones as infamous as BlackRiver, guarding the dig, but he supposed, it was the lesser of two evils. They had help pay for the expedition after all, and Iraq could be very dangerous. Mallowborn remembered his brief time in Baghdad with a shudder. The explosions, the gunfire by night, armed men everywhere... No, even if BlackRiver did have a reputation for ruthlessness, they were undeniably efficient. Even the State Department was said to have a contract with them, preferring their security to that provided by the U.S. military. And he might need that sort of protection here, since not only was Babil Governorate part of the infamous Sunni "Triangle of Death", there were more recent rumours suggesting that Al-Qaeda in Mesopotamia had established a base of operations near Al Hillah.
Despite his reservations about mercenaries, he got on well with their sergeant though. He seemed a bright and affable young man, who had taken quite an interest in their findings. He had explained, somewhat sheepishly, that he'd always had an interest in ancient history, and had paid rapt attention to the work that Mallowborn's team had undertaken.
"Evening, Eddie" he said. The man nodded, before pulling up a crate to sit on.
"Evening doctor" he replied, "how goes the work?"
"Pretty good. It seems that the account of the city in the Shalmaneser Obelisk and Bible is correct. When we breached the inner sanctum of the Ziggurat, we discovered artefacts related to the worship of Nergal."
"He was that creepy god you were telling me about, right? The god of fire and disease and the underworld, yeah?"
"That's correct" said the professor, pleased he had remembered. "Though of course he was associated with other things, like war, for example", he said, thinking again of Baghdad. Noontime and the summer solstice, too."
"Still sounds fucked up to me. Why would anyone want to worship something like that?"
"My best guess is to prevent the destructive aspects of his power's being turned on them."
"I guess" replied the sergeant, sounding unconvinced. "Is there anything more to get out of the temple then?"
"Not really. There might be other sites nearby, but as far as I can tell, we're done with the Ziggurat."
"Good" said the mercenary, as he swung up a pistol he had kept concealed behind his leg, and fired a shot into the professor's forehead.
Mallowborn didn't even have the time to look surprised as the bullet ripped through his brain. Whatever words he had been about to say died on his lips, and he slumped then toppled out of his chair. Eddie looked at him a moment, then got up and pulled out his radio. "The professor is dead. Kill the rest of his team and secure the artefacts for transport."
"Understood, sir" a voice crackled back. "What should we do with the bodies?"
"We can dump then in the Tigris, once we're back in Baghdad. No-one's going to notice a few more bodies floating down there nowadays. Make sure they're unrecognizable first."
"Of course, sir. Over and out."
"Over and out", he replied. Eddie glanced again at the professor's corpse. "Sorry about that, doctor. But there are bigger issues than your vanity at stake here." He glanced up at the brilliant night sky of Iraq, with the stars shining down, and went to work.