Dangerous Games

[cbraund]

The Dangerous Games Pentology

Dangerous Games

To Die For (Dangerous Games II)

Patriots and Tyrants (Dangerous Games III)

Organised Chaos (Dangerous Games IV)

Illusions of Victory (Dangerous Games V)

Hope you enjoy(ed) reading these stories!

Chris AKA Nemesis

***************************************

Prince Alexander grimaced as his father, the great Phillip of Macedonia, conqueror of Greece, stood and prepared to leave.

Had the poison not worked?! Or was his father strong enough to ignore such pain? Surely it should have killed him as soon as he drank it!

Phillip walked towards the door, and it was opened by the two guards, who saluted.

Phillip was loved by his people and his army, as was Alexander. But unlike Alexander, Phillip was loved by people who knew his true self, as it was the same side he showed to the TV cameras. Alexander however, was loved by those who knew him or had seen him, due to his having inherited Phillip's ability to make everyone feel special, but not by those who knew him behind closed doors.

His girlfriends had come and gone, most becoming his fiance, but then finding out his true colours. Some left his palace alive, some didn't. Those who did usually were in a bad way.

But Phillip couldn't see the evil in his son. He was a doting father, and usually let Alexander have everything his own way. But recently Alex had wanted to invade Russia, a country five times the size of the Greeks, in military power too. Phillip had refused, and a row ensued, with Phillip later apoligising, but not backing down. He didn't know just how far his son would go to get his own way.

As his hand fell back to his side from giving the salute, Phillip felt a pain in his chest, like he had been stabbed. He put his hands over his heart, trying to stop the pain, but it overwhelmed him. He collapsed to the floor, spluttering.

Alexander stood, and looked without pity at his father.

"You should have let me have my own way. Then I wouldn't have had to do this. Such dangerous games you play, father."

Those were the last words Phillip ever heard.

*********************************************

A pale. shaken Alexander appeared on TV later that night.

"I have come before the nation to announce the sad passing of my father." he began, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"Today, he collapsed after dinner it what can only be described as a heart attack. All possible means of death are being investigated, but natural causes seem likely.

"I declare a week of national mourning for our great King. And I nor anyone after me will ever take the title King. That is so my father will be known as the only King Greece ever had, and so can be revered as the god he was. I will instead be known as the First Prince.

"That is all for now, I must leave to be with my father's body. Thank you for your time, and goodnight."

The TV cameras switched off, and Alexander laughed at his own acting. He had chosen First Prince because King made him sound old, not because he wanted to remember his father. And as for his tears, he was glad he had those eye drops.

Anyone who didn't have access to top security in the government would never see this side of the First Prince, a feat of good media management and his own acting skills. He was glad, he wanted people to believe the show he was going to put on for them soon.

********************************************

Spartacus, named after the city of his birth, Sparta, and never knowing his surname, was shocked by the announcement, as were all of the men around him.

The King was dead!

Spartacus felt sorry for Alexander, having to take the throne so young, and in the footsteps of such a great man. And you could see how badly he was taking it, the men agreed.

As commander of one of the five Royal Guard regiments, Spartacus would have to lead his regiment to Athens to swear fealty to the new King, or First Prince as he wanted to be known.

He began to prepare to leave.

*****************************************

Just a taster, let me know what you think! More to come tomorrow.

Chris

[civman2000]

great start!

[Richelieu]

I knew it!

That SOB Alexander always tries to backstab me! Apparently i am not the first!



Good start!

[cbraund]

lol@ Rich, and thanks to both of you for your praise

***********************************************

They'll be twice as much tomorrow, cause I'm too tired to write tonight.

So cya all tomorrow! Night!

Chris

[steamthunk]

It's always interesting to see how people represent the few characters there are in Civ. I'm waiting for the next part!

[Metaliturtle]

Alexander is funny because his name has 3 names in it

[cbraund]

lol, now on with the story:

*******************************************

Alexander steadied himself on the podium. The public would think it was due to stress, grief and by the end of the speech, anger. But it was due to his anticipation and excitement.

"People of Greece," he began, "there has been a great injustice done to this country, one that I myself have personally felt the effects of. I now have conclusive proof from the Hoplites, our great Secret Service, that two nights ago, an agent from our neighbour, Russia, who had infiltrated the Palace under the guise of a servant many months ago, put poison in the drink of my father. This was an assassination."

Alexander paused to let his words sink in to his people, and to let them begin to feel the anger and hatred he hoped to nurture.

"This is a crime against Greece, and a crime against a brave and great leader. This crime will be punished, I swear by the almighty God it shall be. Once I have given this speech, I will be going straight to the border to oversee the invasion of Russia. They shall feel our wrath for what they have done!" he thumped the podium with his fist to emphasise his last few words.

He was on the balcony of the Palace making this speech, and looked down at the sea of faces below him. This was supposed to be his coronation speech. He intended to make it a good one, and he had. First he had seen shock, confusion and then hatred on those faces. Now he saw strength, anger and a determination to bring justice to the enemy.

It was working a charm.

"The Russians will feel the might of Greece descend upon them and send them into the fiery abyss that is Hell for this crime against God's servant on Earth! My father was appointed by God, and now they have killed him! I want revenge, I want justice, and by God I shall have it! Are you with me?" he roared.

"YES!" came the shouts from the crowd. They were jostling for position now, an excited mob looking for blood.

"I promise that within the week, I will have conquered the Russian scum!" Alexander turned and walked back into the Palace, still hearing the cries and cheers of the crowd even when the doors had been shut.

"Sir, a week?! That's impossible!" his Defence Minister cried.

"It will be done easily if you give me the resources, and with the money I put into the military, I damned well should have them! And if I don't have those resources, and so I fail, then you will pay a very heavy price. I mean, no one likes to see their wife and children being tortured by the Hoplites, do they?"

The Minister turned pale. Alexander knew that some men were too brave to be cowed by torture, especially military men. But threaten their family, and they would suddenly become very loyal indeed.

**********************************************

Spartacus was enraged when he saw the evidence that Alexander had released of a Russian man admitting to the assassination. How could that man kill a king? Didn't he have any sense of loyalty or honour?

He was glad that the man looked beaten up, and probably tortured into given his confession. When it came to assassins, the Hoplites could be very harsh, and for once, Spartacus was glad of their heavy handed measures. He now hoped this man would face the punishment he should, death.

The thought that the confession extracted by torture might be fake never crossed Spartacus's mind.

And nor did it cross anyone else's minds. They just believed it like the sheep that they were, in Alexander's opinion.

*********************************************

Alexander poured over the map, taking in every detail he could. One thing he had surpassed his father at was planning a war.

The Russian army was split into four large groups, each one bigger in size than the entire Greek army.

They were poorly trained and equipped, but that didn't make them any less of a threat, and the First Prince knew it. He would have to prevent any of the army groups linking up, as two would provide overwhelming firepower, which could destroy his small force, however advanced it was.

Individually, the army groups were about an even match for the Greeks, their numbers cancelled out by the Greek's technical and tactical superiority.

But he had to destroy four of them.

HoW?

********************************************

[Metaliturtle]

Very well written CB!

[civman2000]

very good...reminds me of crazyboy's death of the russians/crazy lincoln/_________ (dont remember the name of the 3rd part)

[cbraund]

The Greek Army was 25 regiments strong, its Air Force 10 fighter, 5 bomber and 5 dive bomber squadrons strong, and its Navy weak at only one battleship, three destroyers, two submarines and a few transports.

In comparison, the Red Army was about 120 regiments strong, split into four Army Groups. Army Group South was the strongest at 34 regiments, Army Group East the weakest at only 26 regiments. Army Groups Centre and West both contained 30 regiments. The Russian Air Force was a fighter-only service of 40 fighter squadrons, Russian doctrine dictating that the Russians use their number to rule the skies, so the Red Army could do the damage that a bomber would inflict, but more accurately. The Russian Navy had three battleships, five destroyers, four submarines and many transports in the Black Sea. They had more in the Baltic, but they were weeks sailing time away.

Alexander hoped to destroy the Black Sea Fleet in port by taking Sevastapol, their main base. But it would take a major battle, as the area was defended by Army Group South.

Stalin's obsession with Moscow had resulted in all 40 fighter squadrons being placed there, meaning that any Russian fighters would take at least an hour to reach Sevastapol. But Alexander had a plan for them as well.

He wasn't known as "the Great" for nothing.

**********************************************

The Russians pressed the attack harder. They had rushed out to meet the invaders, angered at the trespassing. The Greeks had dug in, but now their tanks were on the verge of being driven back by one more assault.

In the din of battle, no one heard the tanks rolling up behind them, until Alexander and his Royal Guard regiments opened fire from a ridge above and behind the Soviets.

The Russian T-34s began to turn to meet this new threat, but then the Greek tanks they were attacking began to break from cover, and counter-attack, the lighter tanks running around the flanks to complete the encirclement.

It was like sheep being herded, packing the Russians into a tight group.

Then the Zeus dive bombers appeared. All 5 squadrons dived down onto the battlefield, letting loose their bombs onto the Russians below.

The results were devastating, destroying many of the venerable T-34s. Those who survived were quickly routed by the Greek tanks.

It was a massacre, Alexander thought happily. The largest Army Group had been destroyed without too many losses.

*********************************************

An hour earlier, Russian radar operators had picked up an incoming bomber raid.

"All five squadrons." the operator told his superior.

"Any fighter cover?"

"None at all, sir."

"Could they be hiding below radar cover?"

"Sir, the land around is quite flat, allowing us to see much closer to the ground than in most other areas. So no, there is no chance that they are hiding below the radar."

"It will be on your head if they are!" the superior warned him, as he phoned in the report.

The air force commander decided to go all out and get a victory for Morth Russia. He would send all 40 squadrons.

*******************************************

As the Russians drew to within missile range, the Greek Mars fighters slipped out from underneath the wings of the bombers. They had taken off separately, and then slipped under the bombers wings, close to their fuselage to create the image of just the bomber on radar screens.

The antiquated Russian fighters were based on old designs like the British Spitfire, or the German Bf-109. The Greek fighters were carrying the latest weapon.

Four Sidewinder air-to-air missiles each.

They opened fire before they were in the shooting range of the Russian fighters.

10 squadrons fired 4 missiles per plane. Most of the aircraft in the Russian Air Force were destroyed straight away. Only about 3 squadrons survived, and those closed to begin dogfighting with the Greeks.

But it was for nothing, they had lost their only advantage - number, and so the pilots would now die for the Motherland.

********************************************

"Our next target," Alexander whispered to Spartacus as the general inspected the troops with him, "is Moscow."

*******************************************

[cbraund]

Zhukov stared at the map, his brows furrowed in concentration.

To win this war, Alexander must destroy the three remaining army groups, he thought.

One army was to the east, past the Urals. The western one was in Leningrad, and the central one was in Moscow itself.

The combined might of the Western and Central Armies was 60 regiments, more than enough to crush Alexander's force.

He realised Alexander would expect him to guard both cities with the armies as he was doing now, under pain of death from Stalin, as no valuable city should be given up without a fight.

But Stalin had given Zhukov free reign. Alexander would strike Moscow next, he decided, thinking that Army Group West would stay in Leningrad.

He was going to get a rude surprise, Zhukov thought.

**********************************************

Spartacus looked in disbelief at his First Prince once more.

"Split your force infront of a superior enemy?! Your father would never have done that!"

"I am not my father!" Alexander cursed. If Spartacus wasn't his General of the Armies now that the idiot who last held the post had got himself killed, he would have had him shot.

"So how do you intend to destroy two armies with half of your force each?"

"Not exactly half. I will take 15, you will take 10 to St. Petersburg."

"Leningrad." Spartacus corrected him, reminding Alexander that he had used the pre-Stalin name for it.

"St. Petersburg once I take it." Alexander snapped.

************************************************

Spartacus had gone hours earlier than Alexander, as it was intended that he should hit St. Petersburg at the same time that the Prince hit Moscow.

Spartacus entered the city to find it deserted. In an instant he realised what had happened.

But there was jamming on all the radio channels, so he couldn't contact Alexander.

"To Moscow!" he roared.

***********************************************

Alexander cursed as the Red Army refused to come out of Moscow and fight. Oh well, he would have to hit them while they were in the city. It would be a bitter fight, but he had called up a huge air attack, by his bomber, dive bombers and even his fighters strafing the enemy tanks.

Now Moscow lay in ruins, and most of the Russian vehicles lay helpless under the rubble.

It would be hard, but the battle was won, he could feel it.

Then came the word.

"Sir! Enemy sighted to the rear!"

Alexander stared at the man in horror. It couldn't be! The Russians had no other men!

Unless... unless it was the Western Army! But surely Spartacus would have radioed back?

He tried a radio link to St. Petersburg/Leningrad.

All he got was static. Jamming! he thought.

He prepared himself to meet his father in heaven.

On second thoughts, I'll go to hell, Alexander frowned.

*********************************************

"The Prince is in danger!" the pilot heard over the radio.

He conferred quickly with his commander. The bombers and dive bombers would return home. They couldn't help the Prince, and were too valuable.

But the five squadrons of Mars fighters would return to the battlefield. They only had enough fuel to either get home, or to return and fly about for ten minutes, strafing the enemy, and finally crash when they ran out of fuel. If they turned back, they would never make it home.

The pilots all agreed though. The Prince was Greece. And they were all willing to die for him.

********************************************

Alexander's army was nearly destroyed. Every regiment had taken losses, and most were decimated apart from the four Royal Guard regiments, who were surrounding the Prince and were determined to die rather than surrender him to the Russians.

The T-34s swarmed around them, about five regiments worth of tanks surrounding their leader.

Then Zhukov launched his final assault.

The T-34s ploughed into the group from all sides.

Alexander knew that the end was coming soon.

***********************************************

The Mars fighters dived out of the sky, and began to strafe the Russians, desperate to help in any way possible.

One pilot saw a T-34 break through the Royal Guard ranks, and begin to close with the Prince's tank. Just as it was about to open fire and kill the Prince, the pilot plunged his plane into it.

The fireball destroyed the tank and its crew, and the pilot and his plane.

But the Prince was safe.

Other pilots began to follow this example. When their ammo or petrol ran out, they would go kamikaze against the Russian tanks.

Zhukov thought that this was madness, until he saw one heading for his tank.

Effective tactic, actually, he thought unhappily.

His command tank blew up.

***********************************************

All the planes were gone, and only a regiment of tanks remained around the Prince. Still about fifteen regiments of Soviet tanks encircled him, ready for one last push. Zhukov was dead, he knew from the Russian radios. But Stalin himself had taken command from the Kremlin.

Then the Russians began to disperse, about three regiments attempted to break the Royal Guard around the Prince, eleven regiments moved to try and fight a new threat, and one regiment, hit from behind, broke and ran.

It was Spartacus, hitting the rear of the Red Army has hard as he could.

Alexander had never been so pleased to see someone.

***********************************************

The battle was won. Greece only had ten regiments left, but they had destroyed all Russian forces west of the Urals. Stalin had faced trial for murder, and was executed. Spartacus became a national hero, and the remnants of the Royal Guard regiments merged to become one regiment, the Prince's Guard.

Spartacus was their leader, and leader of the entire Greek Army, one below the Prince himself.

In an effort to show that the Greek occupation of Moscow was peaceful, Alexander led a football team of the Greek Army against the football team of the locals.

Spartacus was by far the best player there, but knew that he must make his Prince look good, so passed to his Prince infront of goal often so he could score. The Prince had four goals, and Spartacus had had one, that the Prince had ordered him to have himself.

Then Spartacus was fouled in the penalty area, and he motioned for the Prince to take it.

Alexander stepped up, and smashed the ball into the right hand corner of the net.

But it was saved by the goalkeeper. The locals jeered that the Prince had missed a penalty.

After the match, Alexander stormed through the dressing rooms, ignoring the jubilation of his team.

"I want that goalkeeper dead!" he screamed at the Hoplite Director.

"Very well sir."

"Say he tried to kill me after the match, that he was a Russian extremist. Beat him up, obtain a confession, then show the video on TV. If he won't confess, kill him and run the story as you saving me."

The Director of the Hoplites nodded.

********************************************

The Eastern Army had finally tried to cross the Urals, but were destroyed by the revitalised Greek army. Russia was finally Alexander's, and he was welcomed as a warrior Prince to most Greek citizens.

Spartacus was in his new office when the Greek Defence Minister entered, looking nervous.

"I need your help. The Prince is a murderer, and must be removed. Watch this tape if you don't believe me." he handed over a tape.

"What?!" Spartacus was overwhelmed by the Minister getting to the point so quickly. However, he did put the tape in his machine.

It showed the King dying, and recorded Alexander's words.

"You should have let me have my own way. Then I wouldn't have had to do this. Such dangerous games you play, father."

"NO!" Spartacus yelled. "He must mean that is the reason he wouldn't help him, or something!"

"Yeah, and Stalin was a nice gentle man!"

Spartacus held his head in his hands. He knew that the King had been poisoned, told by Alexander himself.

And now it seemed that the Prince had done it!

"Very well. You will have my support in removing the Prince." Spartacus felt a piece of his soul removed by those words. He was betraying his true ruler, and the feeling tore him apart inside.

**********************************************

Alexander listened to the tape recorder once more.

"You will have my support in removing the Prince."

"Turn it off!" he ordered. "So this was his game during the match, get me to take the penalty so he could make a fool out of me!"

"With respect sir, I think he still was loyal to you then."

"Don't answer me back! Kill the Defence Minister now! And kill Spartacus too!"

********************************************

As the Defence Minister's helicopter took off, the Mars fighter, a new one straight from the production line and with a Hoplite pilot, opened fire upon it with a Sidewinder missile.

Spartacus knew that meant that Alexander had bugs in his office. Why hadn't he thought of that?! He grabbed his pistol and began to leave the building, determined to get away before he could be killed.

*******************************************

[cbraund]

Spartacus had a plan now. He had broke into a top secret airfield, that he knew about due to his position. He had taken a Harrier borrowed from Britain.

Now he was flying over Athens.

There it was, his target. The Athens National News Centre. They were due to go on air in five minutes at ten o'clock, the most popular viewing time, and even more people were watching now to see the footage of Greece's great victory over the final Russian forces that had tried to cross the Urals.

But he would hijack the station tonight.

He landed the Harrier softly on the skyscraper's helipad, and climbed out. He rushed to a door, and began to make his way down to a studio.

He had been here many times as a military expert for the news, and to make Alexander look good. He knew his way around easily, and wasn't stopped by anyone. Everyone thought he was here for his usual business, as Alexander had told the Hoplites to make sure that Spartacus's body was in that helicopter with the Defence Minister before he would tell the public about the tragic "accident".

Spartacus turned left into the studio that was hosting tonight's news, and the host, seeing him and thinking he could help in the analysis of the battle, motioned to him to take a seat next to him as the station went on air.

Spartacus plopped his video into the television and video combo built into the set. It was a huge widescreen TV, often used for presentations.

"Here is the news at ten." the newsreader said as the red light went on. "Tonights headline, victory in Russia! We have the footage and top military General, the Hero of Moscow, Spartacus with us here!"

The newsreader read through the other headlines, then turned to Spartacus.

"What do you think will happen now in Russia, Spartacus?"

**********************************************

Alexander screamed with rage as the News at Ten came on.

"It's him!" he roared. "You said he was dead!"

"I said we thought he was, sir!"

"Well that isn't good enough! My guard, shoot this man!"

Alexander's bodyguard pulled his gun. The Hoplite Director turned pale.

"This is the price of failure." Alexander glared as the man was shot.

"Now," he said turning to the Deputy Director, "I want Spartacus dead. Get a Hoplite pilot in a plane and tell him to bomb the building immediately."

"But sir, that could kill thousands!"

"Do it!"

***********************************************

Spartacus stood, ignoring the newsreader's protests.

"I come before you to show you that the war in Russia was wrong. They did not kill the King. His own son did."

Spartacus paused as gasps rang out around the studio. The producer considered pulling the plug, but then realised what good TV this was.

"You ask for evidence? Here it is." Spartacus pressed play on the video recorder. The TV screen flickered to life, and showed the security video the Defence Minister had given him.

He could see doubt about their Prince's morals in the faces of many of the studio workers now, but some looked accusingly at him, as if he had made it all up.

He continued with his speech, finishing:

"For all of you who were loyal to the King, I call on you to rise up and remove this usurper from the throne!"

The line was then cut as the Hoplites had phoned in, threatening the studio director with death. But he had the story of a lifetime, he grinned.

********************************************

Alexander appeared on all TV networks two minutes later, live from the Palace Press Room.

"I am sure you have all just seen the ridiculous video, and heard my General's rants. I feel nothing but pity for Spartacus, he has been duped by those who oppose me.

"I didn't kill my father, whatever that misguided fool might say. All cameras in the Palace are silent, they don't capture sound." He showed the same video now, without sound, a quick trick by the Hoplites. "See?"

"I admit I didn't rush to my father's aid, but it was because I was shocked, and upset. I am hurt that those who dislike me would use my grief against me to remove me from the throne. That is why I must, with a heavy heart, order that anyone who opposes my rule shall die."

***********************************************

Spartacus reached the roof, and ran for the pack he had ready. He saw the fighter in the distance, and knew he wouldn't escape by Harrier, but he had reckoned that he wouldn't be able to anyway. That's why he had a bungee rope made from special material, used by secret agents. It had been "Goldeneye", a James Bond movie which had inspired this stunt.

Spartacus jumped from the side of the building as the fighter pilot dropped the bomb on the tower.

************************************************

"And I regret to inform you that Spartacus has been killed. I don't regret his death so much, but the fact that he took a whole skyscraper full of people with him. As you know, he used the news building for his own use. He had a Harrier, and tried to take off in it again. A nearby pilot had to open fire in self-defence, as the Harrier was fully armed. But Spartacus, instead of aiming the plane away from civilian areas, ploughed it straight into the top of the building. The plane acted like a bomb, tearing down into the building and exploding, causing the entire structure to fall. We estimate there may be many thousands dead. Let me offer my sincerest condolences to the faimlies of those lost, I know how hard it is to lose a loved one."

***********************************************

Spartacus had hit the ground just before the bomb exploded, and had run as fast as he could away. He was cut by glass, and covered in dust, but he had escaped alive. Now he headed back to the barracks of the Prince's Guard.

Charlie Smith was the first to notice him, and he quickly shoved Spartacus into the mess area so he wouldn't be seen. The whole regiment was in there watching the news.

"Says he killed a skyscraper full of people!" he heard one guy shout.

"Did I? Don't you mean the damned Prince got his pilot to drop a bomb on the building?! I never attempted to escape by Harrier!" Spartacus snapped.

The men spun around, amazed by the voice.

"Sir! You're alive! But you were supposed to be in that Harrier!"

"Didn't you hear me? I wasn't in it! He's a lying toerag, our Prince!"

"Don't you dare say that, traitor!" Spartacus's executive officer spoke harshly.

"Why not? You recorded it like you usually do, Johnson? Good, now go back to when the Prince first mentions me being killed. Now switch over the channel to CNN, and see when their time says that the building exploded."

"The Prince says it at 5:11.45, the building exploded at 5:11.47," Johnson said quietly. All of the men gasped.

"He killed the Prince!" shouted one.

"Let's go kill him!" shouted another.

Spartacus had to control them first.

**********************************************

Greece was splitting into two camps, loyal and rebel. The loyalists believed the Prince's story, which was about 6 of the remaining Greek regiments, and most of the militia. The rebels supported Spartacus, and were 4 regiments in number. Most of those had been convinced finally by the video evidence of the tower massacre, which Spartacus showed to anyone he could, but most loyalists would shoot him on sight, so he couldn't do it to often. And he couldn't broadcast it on TV, Alexander had orderd all TV masts destroyed to stop "rebel propoganda".

All of the regular army regiments were heading back to Athens, the main city in the dispute. It was Alexander's seat of power, and the rebels went there to remove him, and the loyalists went there to defend him. The militia units stayed in place.

Spartacus found Smith holding his head in his hands by his tank. The big battle was about to occur. The Prince had sent his regiments out to destroy the rebels, while he controlled it all from the Palace.

"What's wrong?" he asked Smith.

"My brother serves with the Athen Dragoons. I'm hoping he's injured or already dead, because I don't want to fight him!" the nineteen year old appeared close to tears.

Spartacus sat down next to him.

"I've already given the order that anyone who can be spared shall be, we will take prisoners, as unlike Alexander, we are not barbarians. I hope we take him prisoner."

"I hope so too. But I can't believe that this could happen!"

"It's a civil war. Civil wars always bring out the worst in mankind. Brother against brother, uncle against nephew, son against father..." Spartacus spat the last few words, reminded of the Prince's treachery. It also reminded Smith of it, and he calmed down, determined to serve his dead King.

**********************************************

The battle raged outside Athens, but Spartacus knew that battle was unimportant. His elite Prince's Guard should easily overwhelm the enemy numbers, especialy backed by other veteran troops who had followed Spartacus in Russia. But even if they lost, it wouldn't really matter.

What mattered was revenge. And that's what Spartacus was after as he led his infantry from the Stealthy Foxes company that had been attached to the Prince's Guard. They followed him quietly to the Palace, where they began the infiltration.

It didn't take long to get through the few Hoplite guards and to the Throne Room. Security had been light as Alexander had expected Spartacus to want to lead the forces outside Athens and prove he was the better leader. But Spartacus didn't have an ego like Alexander. He was here for more personal reasons, such as revenge for his dead King.

Spartacus holstered his pistol as he stepped into the Throne Room. The Stealthy Foxes pointed their guns at the Hoplite guards, forcing them to put down their weapons or be shot.

Alexander was helpless, but he would go down fighting, he decided.

He stood, and walked towards Spartacus.

"You are hereby sentenced to death for treason." Spartacus spoke calmly. "Firing squad, prepare and aim!"

"Wait, brother," Alexander spoke loudly.

Brother?! Spartacus was confused.

"Yes, brother. Do you know why you didn't know who your father was or your mother? It's because you were born when my father had an affair with a servant girl. Yes, the King wasn't perfect. Luckily I had been born from the Queen, and with a heir already, the baby was an embarrassment for our father. He made arrangements for your mother to go away, but she died giving birth to you. And so he gave you to the military to train into a good soldier." Alexander smiled, finding Spartacus's discomfort at the revelations amusing.

"What, you honestly thought you could rise in the army as fast as you did without backing? No it wasn't help from an admirer, but from our father trying to do something good for you. And this is how you repay him." Alexander laughed. "Now, surrender, as I know you can't kill me."

"I will never surrender to you, you murdering b*stard!" Spartacus yelled.

Alexander drew his sword and charged at Spartacus. Spartacus drew his sword, and shouted at the Stealthy Foxes to hold fire.

The two half-brothers fought hard, but finally Spartacus was pinned against the wall. Alexander thrust forward, but Spartacus ducked and threw him over his back. Alexander landed on the floor, dropping his sword.

Spartacus pointed his sword at Alexander's throat.

"You could never kill a relative. That would make you as bad as me." Alexander tried to stall.

"I can kill a relative who killed my father!" Spartacus yelled as he thrust the sword down. He felt satisfaction as he saw the fear in Alexander's eyes. Then they were lifeless. The Prince was dead.

"Long live the King!" shotued the Hoplites. They had decided to switch sides quickly before they were executed.

Spartacus looked up puzzled.

"You are the King's only heir now!" the Deputy Director of the Hoplites grinned. "That makes you the King, unless you want to use the title Alexander made up and dishonour your father!"

"No, King will be just fine." Spartacus grinned as he savoured his victory.

**********************************************

"It is a good job that Spartacus turned out to have royal blood, as he is the only clear heir to the throne. Without him, there would have been more civil war as all the factions fought to put their own person on the throne. But with Spartacus, there can be peace!" the television man spoke happily, finally able to say what he wanted without a Hoplite taking him away.

"Here he comes now!"

The limo pulled up, and the newly crowned King began to walk up the red carpet towards his Palace.

Spartacus never saw the assassin in the crowd, nor the gun under the newspaper. It was aimed at his head as he walked by.

Spartacus's brains splattered the crowd, causing many to scream. Some due to the blood and brains all over them, some due to the death of their new King.

Some due to the fact there would now be another civil war.

******************************************

Hope you all enjoyed it! I know it wasn't as good as Fate of the Dragon, but I ran out of ideas!
Comments please!

Nemesis

[civman2000]

What??? It was better!!!!

[Metaliturtle]

Definitely, the twists at the end were an excellent addition CB, this contest is going to be extremely close

[civman2000]

rotten's new story, this story, maybe ozwolf's "it's good to be dictator" and your new epic are my pics for the finals...then it will be very close...so many great stories