The machine gun turrets were raining down upon the UN forces. By then, the Spartan had put away his sword and had met up with a detachment of UN-affiliated troops. They were being held down by a barrage of machine gun fire from the turrets ahead, and were using the remains of a leveled building for cover. A blast of heavy caliber bullets shot Demetrius right in the chest. Though the bullets bounced off the armor on his upper body, the blast nearly knocked him over. "What the Hell?!" he exclaimed. "So that's the way they want to do it, huh?"
Looking over to a soldier belonging to the United Kingdom, he noticed the man had a grenade launcher. "Here, give me that!" Demetrius yelled. Grabbing the grenade launcher then draping the ammunition belt over his upper body, the Spartan then emerged from cover. Not fearing the storm of bullets coming down at him, he marched ahead with the grenade launcher. Once he was close enough, the Spartan fired off a round from the weapon at one of the turrets. As the turret exploded in flames, the surviving Iraqi troops that were operating it were running for their lives - some of them with their bodies on fire.
As the Spartan maintained his steady march among the turrets, the scent of scorched flesh permeated the air. It did not matter if the threat was seemingly neutralized, the Spartan's brutality knew no limits. Fleeing Iraqi troops would be shot down with the grenade launcher and blown to bits. The only response from the Spartan would be an occasional burst of laughter. Also, the Iraqi forces could see that their bullets were having little-to-no effect on the mighty Greek. "That's right!" the Spartan roared. "Run, you little desert rats! Run!" With another laugh, he shot a grenade and took out several more Iraqis. After clearing the turrets, Demetrius turned to the UN troops behind him and yelled, "Alright, let's tear this b*tch up, men!"
With that, the troops charged the instillation. The enemy was defeated, the prisoners were set free, and the battle was won. It was all in a day's work for the Peacemakers. Walking over to some burning debris, Demetrius used the flame to light another cigar. He puffed it some, then took a step back and looked around. "Yup," he said. "We did it." As his wounds began to heal themselves, the Spartan walked over to his fellow Peacemakers.
Pointing to the destruction behind him, he said to the three members, "Well team, it looks as if we 'kept the peace' pretty damn well." Quickly raising his grenade launcher, he fired another round toward a wounded Iraqi who was crawling on the ground a few yards away trying to escape, thus putting the man out of his misery. Sure enough, it was complete overkill; but that was the way he did things. With a sneer, Demetrius took another puff of his cigar then said to Mike and Jason, "Don't worry about unemployment. As long as the human race endures, we'll NEVER be out of a job."
Then looking over to the goddess he said, "Isn't that right, Kiara?" He then gave her a wink. Truth be told, Kiara Sullivan probably knew what he meant all too well, for she had been around for so long. The bottom line was that no matter how much society tried to better itself, it would NEVER change. At least, that was how Demetrius saw things.
Later that night, the Spartan would probably find an open bar somewhere, then just drink the night away. For him, every victory called for a "celebration" of some kind. Some wondered if all the drinking was somehow meant to wash away the memory of all the men the Greek had killed. Whatever the case, the next morning held a special challenge. Apparently, the Peacemakers would making a special trip to..... the palace of Baghdad.
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