"What the hell are these things," came the voice of Venedikt Pralnikov, Chairman of the People's Council. He was old, in his mid 80's, but he seemed at least a couple decades younger. He had an ugly scar across his face, a reminder of a more violent past. "This is like something out of a bad sci-fi video game..."
He was looking at the slides of the Flood Virus in it's various forms displayed on the wall by an overhead projector. He was sitting at a table, and around him sat the Vice Chairman, Vladimir Ovseyenko, and the Premier of the Council of Commissars, Orel Dementieva. A shadowy figure, smoking a Morley's cigarette as he operated the projector, was the Commissar of Information, Dmitri Shepilov. He was also the head of the People's Security and Intelligence Bureau.
Shepilov spoke in a deep, rasping, smoker's voice. "The media in East Germanias has been calling it the 'Flood Virus'. This appears to be a misnomer, however, as the creatures appear to be the result of parasitic infection." He paused to take a drag on his cigarette before continuing. "Reports indicate that control of Berlin has largely been lost. In time, they will breach the borders of East Germanias and begin to spread elsewhere in the region. They also appear to be taking advantage of mankind's technological achievements. They could be on our shores in a matter of hours if they so chose." He narrowed his eyes cautiously, watching the Chairman's reaction as he took another drag on his cigarette.
"I see. Do we have plausible deniability? If word of this was to spread... the resulting panic would be too much to contain." Pralnikov looked worried, still watching the slides.
Shepilov turned his gaze back to the slides as well, puffing on his cigarette. "We do. We have set up cover stories in the event that a conflict should take place near any populated areas. We also have provided the press with appropriate motivation behind a military exercise on Berlin. If we are to contain this, we need to act now."
Pralnikov nodded.
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Two small jets boomed across the sky above Berlin, decorated with the stylized iron cross of Rasvidi. Below them sprawled chaos; fires raged and dead bodies were everywhere. None of them moved. Occasionally, the recon pilots could see flashes of strange creatures darting across the roads between buildings. They never had a clear look, however. All they had been told was the city had been hit hard by some kind of epidemic.
They were flying high, much higher then the cloud tops had it been a cloudy day, circling around the city. Their optics used advanced imagery to examine minute details far below them, details impossible to see with the naked eye from such heights. Through their viewscreens, however, they could almost make out the license plate numbers on the cars below. They had been on recon for about an hour, and the bombers were about to show up.
"Recon Flight 117 to 119, requesting visual confirmation on unidentified aircraft at approx. 5,000 feet. Over." The radio in the cockpit crackled. The pilot looked at his screen, and at first saw nothing.
"Recon Flight 119 to 117, cannot confirm visual contact at this time, repeat cannot... nevermind, I see it now. Visual confirmation. Over." He saw it now, flying low over the buildings. It looked like... well, he had no idea what the hell it looked like, but it was flying. It looked organic to him. It looked like it was only a dozen meters away on his viewscreen, causing him to shiver, but there was at least 65,000 feet separating the recon planes and the... thing, whatever it was, below them. It didn't even know they were there. The bombers would have a tougher time, however.
"Recon Flight 119 to 117, will try to establish contact with B-Squadron 376, 398, 409, 512 shortly to inform presence of potentially hostile aircraft. Over." The pilot began to radio the bomber squadron, but he had a sinking feeling in his stomach.
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