Well, thinks its been long enough that i can get away with posting this. So, without further ado...

Part IV

Consciousness floated in like a drunken swimmer. First came a kind of woozy nausea, followed shortly by a killer headache. For the moment I was over taken by a huge sense of déjà vu. Any minute now the CD player will start again, I thought, as the headache intensified like a Hollywood blockbuster. But as I opened my eyes, I quickly realised I was somewhere completely different. For one, there was light. Harsh, artificial light, blinding my tear-drenched eyes. I felt like I was in the grip of a bad migraine, and there was a metallic taste in my mouth. I tried to move my hands, but they were tightly bound behind my back. I was vertical, with my hands and feet bound to a pole of some description, cold and hard against my spine. The room was small, maybe four or five metres across, and maybe a bit more than that wide. The room was bare of anything, no furniture or windows. At first I thought I was alone, until I heard a soft snore. I glanced around until I found its source; a figure slumped in a chair in the far corner of the room. A figure dressed in black from head to foot with a black beanie sitting half-heartedly on top of his long unruly hair. An automatic rifle lay lazily against the chair. I wondered if this was the man responsible for my headache and current predicament. Something told me he wasn’t alone, though. I seriously doubted that he’d dragged me here all by himself, wherever the fuck this was. Summoning up the courage, I figured it was about time I got some answers. I coughed, well, more like breathed air out of my mouth. Sighing, I tried again, this time some words. “ahh...Hello?” Well, at that volume I wasn’t going to get any results. I was about to try again, third time lucky, when the door flew open.

A giant man strode into the room, followed closely by two others, all of the carrying rather nasty looking rifles. “Bonsoir, Docteur Jennings. I see you’ve finally decided to join us.” His French accent was rich and thick, his voice booming. He was handsome in a rugged, bear-like way, his shoulders bulging and hair long and wild. His eyes were a deep blue, piercing and cold. He regarded me with an elaborate stare, as if I was a particularly amusing museum exhibit. I cleared my throat.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said, going for a brave bravado, but sounding more like a sick monkey, hoarse and squeaky.
“You’re right, docteur, we have not. In fact, I would’ve been a mere babe when you visited this clinic for the final time.” I did some rough calculations and decided that I had been right with my earlier estimation of roughly forty years. This would make the calendar only a couple of years old. What the hell had happened here? I wondered. What the hell was happening right now was probably a better question. “My name is Jean-Claude, and I am a freedom fighter for the Armée de Libération.” Great, I thought, I’d been reanimated in the middle of a fucking war zone. Doesn’t that just the cake?
“So how the hell do I fit into this?”
“Oh, that’s very simple. You are here to stop this.” With a flourish, the giant stepped to the side to reveal a large trolley behind him. And on it...
“Oh sweet Jesus, that’s a fucking nuke!”

I stared in horror at the device before me. It looked so innocent, a small tube inside a large, clear container. Except that large tube was filled with weapons-grade uranium and had the capability of wiping out whole cities and destroying miles of land in an instant. The clear container was a radiation shield of some description, explaining how the soldiers could stand so close without a HAZMAT suit. These men had just gone way up in my book. These were more than dangerous patriots, these were mad men.
“You’re insane!” I cried. “It will kill you too.”
“I’m afraid not, docteur. You see, we’ll be long gone before this device detonates. Already, our soldiers are falling back, making the Americans believe that we are weak. Filling them with false hope. No more!” He spat the last two words, anger burning in his eyes. “No more shall the Americans abuse their power! No more shall they flaunt around as if they own the world! No more shall they treat others with disrespect and threaten our nations with blackmail and war!” Something bugged me.
“You guys aren’t your average terrorist group, are you?” The giant gazed at me, stunned, then burst into laughter. The other men joined him and soon the room was filled with raucous laughter.
“Terrorists!? No, no, no, you have us all wrong. We are not terrorists. We are the elite special forces. The best of the best.”
“Oh.” And then it dawned on me. “Oh shit, you guys really have invaded America, haven’t you?”
The giant smiled and nodded. “You really are quite stupid, docteur Jennings, aren’t you? They’d give the Noble Prize to anyone in those days, no?”
“No, actually. You try being a genius after just being smacked in the head. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” Jean-Claude smiled, a harsh, unsympathetic gesture.
“Funny, that’s actually what we call him.” He signalled to the other men. “I’m terribly sorry to leave you like this, docteur, but unfortunately, we must be going.”
“Wait, what the hell?”
“Have no fear, you shall not live to see the fall of your country.” The giant lifted his left hand, the one that had so far remained behind his back. I flinched, but it only contained a small remote. Smiling, Jean-Claude flicked the switch and behind him, the nuke kicked into life with a blur of colours and lights. The LED screen showed the fatal countdown, currently sitting unmoving at 30:00. I started to thrash uselessly against my bindings.
“There is no use struggling, docteur, the binds will only pull tighter. Those stupid rebels should never have reanimated you. They hoped, naively, with your knowledge you could stop us. They were wrong. Farewell, docteur Jennings. Have a nice life.” Jean-Claude smiled and flicked another switch. And then, as quickly as they had first, they were gone, leaving me alone, staring at the countdown towards my doom, listening to the sound of helicopters, whirring overhead.
Last edited by kdownes at Dec 19, 2008,
Typo, second sentence. By needs a y.
...staring at the countdown towards my doom..., didn't like the word "doom". It's so typical.
I would recommend sorting out the expletives (if UG is the only place this is going) with some empty bold/other tags (like fuck). I just find things decorated with asterisks on here ugly.

Apart from that, good. Unlike the others, this one actually got me excited. Until about halfway through paragraph one, I was thinking that this was more of the same, boring descriptions of feelings, getting older and older, but now there's other things, people, ideas, themes. It's really developing, finally. And I'm wondering, how long is this going to go on for? It's quite a slow pace....
I'm going to read these all in one go and then say what I feel when I've finished going through them all.
Sam, theres maybe two or three more parts max and its about to take off. Trust me. Part Five is going to start off with a full explanation of why he chose to be frozen, so that'll be a bit slow, but after that, its going to be non stop. As for the typo, my Y key is dodgy, so it doesnt suprise me. ill fix it shortly.

Dan, i cant wait
This one was the best ! I don't know why, but I had the feeling this would only have four parts... This one was the one which developed more the story so far.

By the way, I'm not going to give advices on prose, because I feel I can't do it (don't ask me why).

Keep going Kyle.
Thanks for the crits, Andre. Yeah, Part III is more the necessary plot advancement. Its kind of hard to build up suspense in that part. But Im glad you liked this part. This ones my fav.