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31-03-2010, 06:35 PM | Post: #1
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Part One

Chapter One: Curse

The rocket hit the plane with a distant sound. The plane swerved for a second, and then plummeted, exploding about two-hundred feet before crashing horizontally and coming to a halt at the edge of a cliff. Dust and smoke rose from the burning wreckage. Jagger looked up from where he was sitting, in his dug-out bunker, to see the remaining debris falling down.
“No, no, no, no... no, no... no!” He shouted into the battlefield.
His friends were on that plane, they were travelling north to the frontline. Jagger was in a state of shock, he couldn’t move. He could only think;
‘Damn – All the memories they’d shared, the battles they had won. It all ended like that.’
Jagger then thought aloud,
“Wait! They could have survived... they probably parachuted!” By shouting this, he earned himself several strange looks from his fellow soldiers. He ignored them.
Jagger's senses picked up as he jumped out of the trench he was in and adrenaline rushed through his body. He began running towards the area of the crash site, around five-hundred metres from his assigned bunker, Royal bullets thudded into the ground around him.
His Sergeant shouted "Get back here!"
But he was oblivious; his one objective was to help his friends. He had to get to them. A Royal soldier charged out of an enemy dug-out and began running and firing towards Jagger, Jagger was too fast and too determined though; as he grabbed his knife and threw the heavily sharpened tool into his enemy's left thigh. He had aimed for the face, but he was running too fast to establish the correct body position the National Military Academy had taught him. The knife did render the Royal’s leg useless, allowing Jagger to move on without any more trouble from him.

As Jagger got closer to the crash site, he couldn't see any ejected parachutes. He quickly decided that they could’ve landed over the edge of the cliff and in the sea-water below. Little did Jagger know: A Royal sniper, positioned in a watch tower about a kilometre away, had his scope reticule directly over Jagger’s head, but a stroke of luck had a bird fly in the way, distracting the sniper and giving Jagger the few seconds he needed to close in on the crash site, where he was just out of range for a worthy shot.
'I can do this: I'm going to make it, they're going to make it. They'll be ok, when I get them out of this we’re leaving the army. We can all go back home and this war can go on without us.’ Jagger thought as he slowly and surely ran out of breath.
The crash site; now directly in front of him, harboured no sign of survivors. Jagger took a few paces, past the wreckage. He dropped onto his knees, as he looked out to the ocean over the cliff. The sound of the water crashing against the cliff seemed calming at first, he blocked out all the explosions, gunshots and sounds of battle. So he could only hear the sea for a few minutes. That is until it slowly faded; to the sound of Jagger’s voice.
"None of them survived... they're all... dead" he mumbled. A tear smoothly ran down his cheek and after a few seconds dripped off of his face, falling into the sea.
He got out his radio, pushed the green button and said desperately, "Jake, Cooper... Nutty? Do you copy?"
As soon as he said this, a strange sound came from what seemed like a piece of burnt-out plane wing not far away.
"Do you read me? Guys?" Again the strange sound came from the piece of debris.
"What... the hell..." Jagger said as he slightly shifted over the piece of plane, he saw a hand poking from underneath. After a few more seconds, he found the strength in himself to push it away completely. A Soldier lay before him on the floor, pale as moonlight. He coughed and spluttered, then finally said;
"This is, Corpor-” he broke into a coughing fit. “Corporal J. Johnson, what is your situation?"
Then Jagger started laughing.
"Jake! Jake! Jake... are you ok?" Jagger shouted in ecstasy.
"Heh’, not that smart are you kid." Jake pointed to the huge metallic spike sticking through his thigh and stomach.
"Oh, oh, god." Jagger said, looking away and retching.
Jagger put down his rifle and knelt down by Jake's side.
"It's going to be ok buddy.” Jagger said as he put his arms under Jake’s body and tried to lift. Just as Jake began to rise off the floor, Jagger felt a sharp, cold, biting pain in his back. He screamed, dropping Jake back onto the floor. Jagger was lying a yard or two away from him, clutching his bleeding back. The Royal who had stabbed him approached him slowly, almost mockingly.

Jagger tried to back away, grabbing at the thick, almost black mud which was present as the ground on the battlefield, hauling himself backwards. Holding on to those last few seconds of life. The wielder of the knife came to him, laughing. Jagger gave up his feeble attempt at survival, dipped his head in defeat and said.
"Do it."
The Royal halted for a moment. Taking in his submission.
"With pleasure," he replied slowly. Dropping his knife and beginning to unbutton his pistol holster.
As he slowly drew it out, Jagger saw that it was one of the new 'Super' weapons; designed to kill all the more effectively. Jagger had time to raise his hand in one last act of vulgar defiance as the Royal took aim.

Jagger felt a surge of fear and his eyes were forced closed by it.

A Gunshot, louder than the others, rang through the battlefield, as a man’s body went limp, and the cold entered his soul. Another’s thirst for final blood was quenched, one more death to add to the toll.

This, is the curse of the battlefield.

Chapter Two: Letter

Shadows, lights, sounds, voices, smells, a blurred contrast of senses. No specific images were received through Jagger’s eyes. Until today, two months after the incident of the crash and of Jagger being stabbed, Jagger woke up. He was lying in what seemed to be a hospital, grimy and dull, but a hospital of sorts. A female nurse came over to him, leant over him, checking his pupils with a small torch before standing upright and announcing;
"Good morning Mr. Brown."
Jagger looked at her and said with a raspy voice; "Hey, do you mind telling me where I am?”
She looked at him with an innocent expression and spoke in a kind, soft voice,
"Certainly. You are in the National Frontline Bay Hospital; we treat Soldiers who are harmed on the battlefield."
Jagger sighed as memories of the incident flooded back. Tears came to his eyes, as he remembered the last words of his comrade. ‘Not that smart, are you.’
'Heh. It's a cruel world' he thought, and then he fell into a thoughtful daze, looking into nothingness.

Eventually he said, "How am I alive, Miss?"
She looked pitifully at him and said, "You are alive because you got here fast enough for us to treat your stab wound."
"What... what about my gunshot wound, the man who stabbed me... he had a gun, that’s all I remember?" He questioned.
"There was no gunshot wound..." Then she exclaimed. "Oh!" and apologised:
"This is for you, it was found in your pocket when you were brought in." She handed him an envelope. Its seal was already broken, so Jagger just slid open the envelope and took out a note.

It read:

Dear Jagger

You’re probably wondering why you’re still alive, well, I guess you could say that like me, you were lucky and you get to live a little longer than the rest of your comrades. For you it may be months or years, but for me, I have minutes. I am bleeding out as I write this, and I am writing to you, my friend, explaining what is happening at this battle, so I can sort of... fill you in; I owe you that. As I lie here in the cold mud my first thought is to explain to you how you are still alive.

I regained consciousness and by instinct I grabbed your rifle to protect myself, I heard someone mutter some words to my left. So I turned around and saw a royal pointing a gun at you, No-one kills my friends. So I waited for the right moment, my hands were shaking you see. And when I was sure I wouldn’t miss, I shot the scum in the square of the back. I then lay in the mud for a few minutes as a Royal squad ran onto our position. I guess I was playing dead. Eventually a National sniper team must have shot them as they searched the wreckage of the plane. These men fell down like good soldiers though, accepting death, unlike me and you eh?

I crawled back towards the battle, away from the cliff. At first I thought, with my blurred vision; that the Nationals number was reducing. But then a huge National force came in from the west bringing heavy armour. I think. (I'm not so good at directions). But I was happy for a few minutes as I realised that the Nationals were going to win. And I could hear screams of ‘They’re retreating’ or ‘Victory!’

Eventually as I lay there in the cold, I felt death's even colder embrace hit me. But a monstrous sound must have scared even death itself off, as a surge of heat came over my body, my ears cracked and screamed and my eyes were forced closed. As soon as I could open them again, I saw that a humongous fireball had engulfed the battlefield. The fire began to spread towards me and you, but a shockwave slammed into our bodies first, sending us rolling off the edge of the cliff. I caught your hand and grasped at the remaining ground above the cliff, trying to grab onto something. I succeeded just in time.

As I held on, I was screaming in agony, I know now that my arm was in fact fractured. I wasn't giving up on you though. So I held on until the sun began to set. An hour later, after the battle had finished, I felt someone pull us back up: A Man wearing all black clothing, including one of them fancy Kommandant’s coats, a gas mask covering his face with an officer’s hat pulled over the top of it. When we were pulled up; the sky was a deathly red, it was so amazing.

The carnage the impossible weapon had caused was catastrophic, charred bodies lay everywhere; bits of vehicle were strewn across the empty battlefield. The man dragged me into a large, unfamiliar looking jeep. I mumbled what I think was; ‘Where are we going’. I don't remember what he said. I just remember his voice: The voice of a Leader.

I've just been told I have around an hour to live before the infected blood from the metal shard is processed thoroughly by my vital organs. What a way to go. Not even the honour of dying on a battlefield. You know, I always said I wanted to die on the beaches of the ‘Buccaneer’ Bay. I'd ask you to take me there right now, being such a loyal friend. But apparently you are unconscious right now. Three beds along to my left I am told, if I sit up I can see you. Sleeping like a baby. Well: I have nothing else to say now. Shame really, I would have liked to leave you with more. Unfortunately this is all I have.

Well, Goodbye Jagger Brown. I’ll see you wherever I'm going.

Highest Regards

P.S. The man in the Kommandant’s coat said he'll visit us, if we survive. The Doctors are telling me it’s looking good for you. So; hopefully you'll get some answers from him!

Jagger dropped the letter on the floor, as the tears began to pour down his reddened cheeks.

Chapter 3: Midnight

Jagger woke at seventeen minutes to midnight; he must have cried himself to sleep. He looked down at the floor to see if the note was still there. It was. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, which was hard, considering how tightly the sheets of his bed had been put on. His back ached, but for a wound of that magnitude, it had healed fairly well. He slipped his legs out of the side of his bed. Then he began to walk down between the aisles upon aisles of beds which were precisely opposite each other, one row of beds on one side of the wall, one on the other, each opposite each other. He walked through the middle of them; limping a little as he went. Slowly but surely making his way to the end of the rows of injured men, where a large archway stood, which Jagger presumed lead out of the Hospital. Lights skimmed through the window to his right-hand side, they startled Jagger and he dived down under one of the beds. Grunting and clutching at his back, trying to ignore the pain that diving onto the ground had caused him.

A car had pulled up outside the hospital. He could hear men talking; footsteps began making an echo in the long corridors of the hospital. After a few seconds, three men appeared at the archway. Two were wearing Elite National clothing, which had been darkened, either by the amount of light in the room or by intentionally making the dyes on them darker. The other one was wearing a Special Forces hat, on it was a strange rank sign Jagger didn't recognise. He was also dressed in a midnight black coat. Their faces were all covered by black masks, and they all carried a knife and an 'Uber' pistol was holstered by each of their sides. They walked quickly up to Jagger’s bed. They didn't seem too surprised to see he wasn't there, but Jagger heard them muttering. They began looking at all the patients, making sure they hadn't gotten the wrong bed.
One of the Elite-wearing soldiers pulled out a small radio and said to it, "Target is not present in section one, standby; we may be slightly late to the LZ."
With that they began to walk back to the archway. Just as they were about to leave, the one in the black coat sharply whipped up his hand into a 'Halt' type gesture. He then turned around, slowly walking towards the bed that Jagger was hiding under. The mysterious figure arrived at the end of the bed. Then to Jagger's relief he walked around to the side of the bed, looked at the patient lying in it, slapped the patient hard on the cheek and said, in a calm, controlled voice;
"What is your name, son?"
The patient was startled and replied back in a shaken voice "m-my-my name is- is SpiderWalker."
The man looked at him and said, "Are you scared, SpiderWalker?"
"Scared of what, sir?" SpiderWalker replied in a confused and bewildered voice.
Jagger shut his eyes just wishing for the man to go away, then he opened them, and the mysterious man’s face was right in front of his, he was in a press-up position, with his hands and feet supporting his body off of the floor: Looking Jagger directly in the eye, only about four inches away from him.
The man then said, in a mocking voice... "Scared of monsters, under your bed?"
Then he stood up, clicked his fingers and the two other men briskly grabbed hold of one of Jagger's arms each and began to drag him out of the hospital. Jagger screeched and shouted as he was dragged through the entrance hallway, but it was empty. No-one else could hear him. When outside, there was a jeep waiting for them, with a man dressed in the same elite clothing leaning with his lower back on the front of the car, he was on a radio to someone. As soon as he saw the three men and Jagger, he closed the radio, then said,
"What took ya' so long?"
"Lad got scared, tried to hide," laughed one of the men who had dragged Jagger.
"What about his friend?"
"Bed was empty, don't know where he's gone, likely dead."
"Shame... well, lets get him in the jeep." With that, Jagger was hoisted into the back seat of the five-seated jeep. As the engine turned on, and the jeep rumbled and vibrated, Jagger tried one last time at shouting for help. And as he did, a man to the left of him who’d previously been on the radio simply looked at him. And punched him, knocking him out; the group then drove into the darkness. While Jagger dipped in and out of consciousness for about thirty minutes.

As the jeep eventually slowed down, the men exited it and they lifted Jagger out and lay him down on the floor by the jeeps right side. The one who had the radio before pulled it out again and said;
"Ok, we’re ready for our ride home, we are present at the LZ?"
The reply came quickly, “Roger that, E.T.A. thirty seconds.”
With that, Jagger could hear the distant sound of a plane, then ten seconds later he could see it in the sky. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, nothing like the standard fighter planes of the National army, larger, with a thicker body; it appeared that instead of using magnetic plates to ride on the wing they could actually get inside the plane!

The plane landed around thirty metres to the right of where Jagger lay, and the men who had 'captured' him were standing. It shook the ground around it, making Jagger slide down, face-first into the ground. Jagger hauled himself back up and attempted to say;
"What is happening, where are we going?" but it came out as a strange mumbling sound.
One of the men told him to be quiet. The back of the bottom of the plane opened to form a ramp with a strange hissing sound. Then the two men, who had picked Jagger up at the hospital, lifted him up again. They made their way to the plane and walked slowly up the ramp. The man in the black coat continued walking into the pilot’s cockpit while the others sat down in seats lined up against the wall of the planes.

Two men who had been in the cockpit walked out a few seconds after the man with the black coat went in. The two men who were carrying Jagger sat him in one of the seats and strapped a seat-belt around him.
"Hold on mate, you won't ever have had a ride like this before" one of them said.
They sat down and buckled themselves up. A sound buzzed and the voice of the man in the black coat came through speakers around the plane:
"This is Delta, team Echo and Alpha, returning to base with the package, team Bravo be ready for our return, we are comin’ home." And with that, the plane began to plough forward, accelerating very quickly. Jagger’s mind was racing with questions. The main ones being;
‘Who the hell are these people?’
‘Where the hell am I going?’
‘What do they want from me?’
‘Am I going to die?’
But he knew if he said any of them out-loud, he’d probably just get punched again. Besides, now that his friends were dead, and there was very little chance of him going home. He was up for an adventure. And with that thought, the plane took off into the night sky.

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31-03-2010, 06:37 PM | Post: #2
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Part Two

Chapter 4: Arrival

The man in the black coat was right, Jagger had never had a ride like it. He felt so sick. He must've thrown up around eight or nine times, it wasn't that it was a bumpy ride particularly, it was just, well, the speed of it. He'd never traveled above the 300-350mph that the National planes could travel. This monster of the sky must have done at least 800. After around an hour Jagger's journey in this sky beast was coming to an end. As they flew past a village, past a lighthouse and over a cliff with the sea glittering below, the black-coated man turned on his onboard radio and said, "Skyhook... engage"! A few seconds passed, then something thudded into the back of the plane, the engines of the plane began to reduce in speed and it dropped horizontally into the sea below. Jagger tried to turn his head to see out of the back end window of the plane. He couldn't turn his head fully, but he could roughly see a rope sticking out of the back of the plane, slowly being tugged in towards the cliff, when the cliff began to open, thats when Jagger really decided to wonder what the hell he had got into. After the cliff side had opened there was a massive metal plate on the inside of it, which also began to open, like the jaws of an old tired dragon, slowly but steadily opening. The plane picked up speed, skimming over the water, backwards, being dragged by the strange rope thing. 10 seconds later they shot up the ramp and straight into the 'tunnel' inside of the cliff. It was dark and the image of the sea was getting smaller and smaller as Jagger was hauled away from it, then the draw-bridge type ramp came up and the metal doors closed, then, Jagger presumed the cliff, which was likely being used as camouflage, closed over the metal plates. The plane slowed and came to a standstill after around half a minute of being dragged backwards. Then the lights came on. Jagger had never seen a room so big. Two massive wall lights, opposite each other in the room turned on, then the next two, then the next two, then the next two, and so on and so forth. Everytime one more set turned on, Jagger thought, 'C'mon, that has got to be it' but no... they just kept turning on. Jagger did not get to see the end of the large 'corridor' but instead he was hoisted by the arm and carried through a large doorway in the side of the wall to the right in the massive inner-cliff runway. As soon as all seven men had passed through the door. A single metal plate, slowly came down and covered the entrance. As they walked through several of these 'Security mechanisms' as one of the elite wearing men had explained and told Jagger, they reached a corridor around 30m long. In it were 16 doors, 8 going down each side, the six men all went to a, what seemed like, random door and started trying to unlock it, with various keys. The first 5 on the left side were labelled: 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9. The first 5 on the other side were labelled: 0, 2, 4, 6 and 8. All the labels had a strange imprint below the numbers, Jagger noticed it was the same imprint on the back of the soldiers specialized elites, and on their helmets, and the back of their gloves, even on a small badge on the left-most side of their chests. Then Jagger noticed they were wearing a second badge, that had a number on it. The five numbers he could see on the men were: 6, 9, 1, 8 and 3. Then it clicked and he exclaimed, "this is where you LIVE!" The man in the black coat turned around and said "yes, this is where we live, this is where we get our orders, from National High Command, and out there is where we work, on the battlefield." Jagger sniggered, "you guys live in a rock, pfffttt!" "The man in the black coat turned around, his whole body this time and said, "this is the most secure and hi-tech rock you will ever see." The man then turned and began inserting different keys into the door again. Jagger thought it over then said, "touche," he then wanted to keep away from the awkward silence that he got whenever he didn't attempt to engage in conversation with these people and said, "so, they all have badges corresponding to their room numbers, how about you. Wheres your badge?" The man in the coat didn't even look up. He just stopped. After about twenty seconds, he turned his head, looked Jagger in the eye, rolled up his sleeve, pulled his hand up to Jaggers eyeline, turned it around and said; "there, is my badge." On the back of his hand there was a scar, or a burn mark, Jagger didn't quite know, all he knew is that is resembled a zero.
"Ohhh," Jagger said, wincing and looking away. Jagger tried to change the subject, "so, what do the numbers mean?" "They are our designated squad numbers." another man replied, one who had not yet spoken to Jagger, his badge had a one on it. "Squad numbers?" "Yeah, we are.. as you can see, an elite National squad, first class. Phoenix Division." "WHAT. WHAT!? Phoenix division were wiped out years ago!" Jagger said, startled. "Everyone except us" was the reply, plain and simple. "So, whats the squad name?" Jagger asked calmy, pretending he wasn't completely shocked to be in the same room as a Phoenix Division first class operative. "Delta Squad, the name of the squad is Delta Squad... and I think its time for your briefing." "What?" was the only thing Jagger could stammer, before everyone emerged from their rooms and began to march towards a door some way down the corridor.

Chapter 5: Selected

As everyone entered a room with a 'Briefing Room A' sign on the door, Jagger noticed that it had all gone quiet again. He didn't like the quiet with these people, but, he could tell that quiet was how these guys liked to keep things. Inside the room there was a long metallic table, ovular in shape, at this table 12 expensive looking, dark leather, polished seats were present, each with a number on it's back. There were three men already sitting in their assigned seats. "Good morning Bravo team" the man in the black coat saluted the three men in the seats, they all saluted back and said "good morning, commander." One of them muttered something like, 'early enough for you sir?' Everyone else took their seats and Jagger was left standing their, feeling rather sheepish. The man in the black coat, who was apparently the squad's commander, gestured for Jagger to sit down at an empty seat at the opposite end of the table. Jagger gormlessly went and sat down at the other end of the table. The talking began fairly quickly, however it was organised speech and everything each member of the Delta Squad said, was as short as possible and to the point. Then, the commander turned to Jagger, after around half an hour of informative speech to and from the rest of his squad, and said, "hello Jagger". Jagger looked around at each member of the squad before replying; "erm.. hello... sir?" "I guess your wondering why you are here..." "Yup" said Jagger in a jumpy voice, then he mentally punished himself for being so... so... normal, around these people. "Well Jagger, I'm afraid to say that this is going to require you to read some more," said the commander. "What do you mean?" Jagger asked questioningly. "Check your pockets" was the only reply, not from the commander but from the man with the badge number three. He didn't even look up, he was just writing something on a clipboard that was being passed around the table. Jagger checked his two trouser pockets, nothing was in them. He checked his chest pocket... and nothing was in them. He checked his back pocket and... he found nothing. He then looked up, went red in the face (although he didn't know why, it was obviously their mistake), he said "excuse me, but, theirs nothing in my pockets." The number three man looked up and said, in a calm voice with a strong polish accent, "check your inside pocket," Jagger reached for his first inside pocket, without taking his eyes off the man, but the man said "no, not that one, that one has your watch in it, nice watch by the way, however what you are looking for is in the pocket on the left side, further down than the one with the picture of your family." Jagger's mouth fell open. This man had been inside all of his pockets, while his jacket was zipped up and he was wearing it, he hadn't felt a damn thing! "How... how did you know.. how did you do that?" This time the commander replied; "His codename is not Ghost, for nothing." The 'Ghost' man smiled at his commander.

As Jagger reached into his pocket, sure enough, he felt a note. He slowly pulled it out, until he held it in front of his eyes. It was folded so he could not instantly read it. "Lets go, leave the lad in peace for what he is about to discover." the commander said, and everyone in the room stood up as one, saluted, and walked out of the room. The door shut behind them with hardly a sound. Jagger suddenly felt fearful. This note, it could tell him anything. Jagger thought, it can't be that bad, but what if it was? He sighed... as he un-folded the note.

Dear Jagger

I don't know what you know about me. I think, they told you I died within the early hours of the war. In a jeep accident? No Jagger. I wouldn't have let that kill me. I fought through the war, no clumsy little accident could kill me. I've seen marvellous things Jagger, with these people you are (hopefully) in the company of now. Now I know at first they may seem cold and a bit quiet and even, sometimes a little scary, I've been through the exact situation you are in now, but when you get to know them, you are going to have one good time. I've been through thick and thin with these people. You know that grounded and burnt out ship on the Buccaneers bay? Guess who that was... yes, me and the Delta Squad, kickin' ass and never lookin' back, taking orders from the National Leader himself. Well of-course you know me,
I always need the best... heh... well.... Your my brother, I sure hope you know me eh? Well, anyway, I got together with the Delta Squad around four years ago, (the day after I was presumed dead). I had befriended a man called Zachylealger, who was Delta's radio man (not that I knew at the time). During the battle of Hacker Hill, was when fate had decided to put me with the Delta Squad and give me the ride of my life.

Four Years Ago:
A hill, somewhere near the seaside.

I was crawling and panting, crawling and panting. Crawling up the hill with my friend Zach by my side. Zach had disobeyed orders from someone, I hadn't a clue who, but he disobeyed them to come to this battle with me, for he obviously didn't want me to die. You could see the men at the top of the hill, being slaughtered by enemy MG fire. I guess you could say me and Zach were crawling to our doom. But crawling we were, as our Sergeant shouted "Forward!" and we moved up the hill. Not on the frontline exactly, but almost. Bullets hit the floor around 2 metres from where we lay. With an all too familiar 'Rat-a-tat-a-tat' sound. Bodies were falling back from the hill, into the mud. Then rolling, sometimes onto me, sometimes onto other members of my battalion, mostly into the mud. An artillery shell, slammed into the ground far too close to us and I heard one of my unit members screaming. I looked over at him. Shrapnel was everywhere in the poor lad's face. Blood, streaming down his skin. He rolled onto his back. Screwing up his eyes and screaming for someone to 'end it.' Shouting, 'It's not my war' and 'I want to go home.' But, we all knew, that as soon as you sign up into the Military, it is your war and you can never, ever, go back. For five long minutes, his screaming went on, I even thought about killing him, out of mercy. Then I remembered that my Sergeant would shoot me straight away if I did that. The man must have gone insane, as, he stopped screaming, pulled a pin from his grenade, which caused every man in a five metre radius to curse and jump up and run, in, very similar directions, meaning, AWAY from the grenade. The insane man then jumped up, and then ran over the edge of the hill, screaming, 'EAT IT!' The only thing I ever saw of him then was his guts, as they all spewed back over the hill. "Didn't he know it was only a three second timed grenade?" said Zach. Then I said "probably, but, shrapnel gets to you... you know." This made Zach snigger. Our Sergeant shouted "FORWARD!" me an Zach looked at each other. Knowing this was the last time we may ever see each other, and then we both said, in perfect unison; "Broken, we fall. Together, we die. But... United. We stand," we then both ran up from our prone position. Guns a'blazing.

Thats all I remember from that battle, because as soon as I went over the hill apparently a grenade went off a few metres to my left. The next thing I knew, I woke up, in a hospital, reading a letter from Zach, just like you are now. Then a man came in. They abducted me, I'm assuming this is what they did to you. Unless their methods have changed. Which I doubt, as they are highly effective. Now when I got to their base, and sat in the same seat you are sitting in right now. I was told to check my pockets, when I did, I found a small note, from Zach (again), who had been wounded in battle and had lost both arms and one of his eyes. The note said that Zach had entrusted me with being the next soldier to be Delta Squad's radio man. Naturally, the adventurer in me said yes. Now my brother, I am afraid but at the same time gladdened to say, it is your turn, to take on the roll of Delta Ten. As their radio man. As I am by now, most likely dead. I was in a jeep accident actually, ironic eh? Well, at least this gives me the comfort, laying in my hospital bed right now, slowly dieing, that I did not lie to you. I did die in a jeep accident, four years too late. But I did. (Even if the jeep accident involved a few RPG's and a large tank). So... give Matrix your answer. (The one with the scar on his hand). Yes or No?

Good luck Jagger.

Give my love to mother, and take some for yourself.


Jagger put down the note on the table. He was starting to hate reading, it only ever told him bad things, he thought. As he lay his head on the desk and began to cry.

Chapter 6: Welcome to the Jungle

Two days later: Victory Village

“Dog Pack has landed” said a man who was sitting at a desk on a radio. “Hmm.. Roger that,” A man, with a hideous looking scar running from below his right temple, through his left eyelid and down to his left cheek bone. The man paused for a minute then said, “we better proceed with the mission then.” They walked down a long iron corridor into an elevator. As four men joined them. One of them pressed a button on the elevator controls. They waited a few seconds, then they arrived at the highest man-made point in a village called Victory. The church tower bell, which was in fact the highest point in victory moved up, through the roof of the church, in it’s place an elevator shaft had been revealed. A few seconds later, six men appeared in the shaft, in an elevator, they stepped out of the shaft slowly. One of the men pulled out a pair of binoculars and pointed them towards the hill to the road that joined the back of the village. Just as the radio-man had said, there were two jeeps coming down the road around half a mile from the village. The dust from the jeeps concealed the mens faces to be seen clearly. But the lookout with the binoculars was sure that they were the objective. A large, mountain of a man, that the others referred to as Dozer picked up a keg that he had strapped to his back, then kicked it, with a monstrous “UH!” The man with the scar on his face turned round, his green but muddied coat turned swirled around two seconds after him, as he turned he drew his pistol from his holster, brought it up with the momentum from the turn, aimed at the keg, shutting his scarred eye. He fired, the shot cracked through the hills that surrounded Victory. The keg, exploded with an even louder crack, like an amplified echo of the gunshot. The explosion of the keg was the signal. A sniper on a cliff over-looking Victory, aimed at the driver of the jeep and fired. Then clipped in his next round, aimed, and fired at the driver of the second jeep. Both jeeps swerved into the side of the road. One rolled and flipped over into the road-side ditch. The sniper took aim once more, this time at the latter jeep’s fuel tank, located on the back underside of the jeep. Just as he was about to pull his trigger, he fell to the floor, dead.

Jagger pressed the button on radio, which was onto his collar. “The sniper is down,” “Roger that Delta Ten” came the muffled reply. Now all Jagger had to do for a while was sit and wait. Then report on anything that might go wrong. Might go wrong. Jagger didn’t like the mights and possibilities any more. Jaggers friends might have survived the plane crash. The Nationals might have won the battle, but no... because the Royals had no sense of honour, and they had killed a thousand men with one, deadly weapon, which only required the clicking of a button. This war might have been in the Nationals favour. That was not true either, the Nationals only territory was a mid-sized section of the seaside which had been seized by a month long skirmish. Mights were useless. It was the things that were completely and utterly, definitely going to happen that Jagger was going to try to stick with. Jagger came out of his daydream to the sound of his radio, “status, Delta Ten?” “Erm...” Jagger looked over to the crashed jeeps.

By now all of the Royal Squad had made their way over to the crashed jeeps. As they had mysteriously lost contact with their sniper, who had failed at his job of making the jeeps explode. The man with the scar (who was obviously the leader), had said that the sniper had probably lost his nerve, due to the killing such a highly ranked National squad. He would apparently be... ‘dealt with later.’ The survivors of the jeep crash amounted up to three. They were all quickly and efficiently shot in the head. Then tossed aside, like a browned apple core. Then the man with the scar sat down on the side of the road. His team turned to him, after a few seconds, the man with the scar said, “Go back to the hideout, give Lion Pack the go ahead for the attack on the National coastline. The squad that would lead them are out of the way. “Heh, don’t you think it was simple, sir?” one of the smaller men said. “I mean, a Squad, with a reputation like this one, even though no Royal man knows their name, all we had to do, was get the information that they were going to pose as Dog Pack to get some intel on the offensive against the newest plan against the National seaside. Then we just shot their jeeps!?” The man exclaimed, the scarred commander looked at the person who questioned his plan, then he got a large cigar out from his pocket, lit it, slowly drew the cigar to his pursed lips, had a puff and calmly said; “the best things in life,” he paused and sighed, the effect of the cigar had clutched him in it’s all powerful grasp. He then continued; “are simple.”
Twenty-three minutes later the men climbed the two ladders which lead to the church roof, where the entrance to their hidden complex was located. As they all stepped into the elevator the small man who had questioned the scarred commander earlier, pressed the down button. The lift began its slow descent into the underground sections of the church. The man next to the massive Dozer, with a massive backpack, took it down and turned it over. In the back of it was a screen that filled the small centre part of the bag. He then tweaked a dial near the top left of the screen. An old looking Royal slowly came into focus on the screen. All of the men in the elevator saluted the designated leader of the next big attack on the Nationals. The man said, “why have you requested this video message?” “I’ll speak,” said the Royal who stood next to Dozer. “Hello sir,” the man said, as he saluted once more, “we have been given orders by our squad commander to inform you that the squad who were posing as Dog Pack have been eliminated, they were the ones who were rumoured to be leading the defence of the coastline. “I see... and who gave you the intel that this was going to happen?” the old man said. “Our Royal agent inside the National border line, sir.” Dozer butted in, getting a dirty look from the man who had demanded he should speak earlier. “What was his agent number?” the old man inquired. “Three... erm... three three seven sir.” “... WHAT. According to the Royal records, Agent 337 has been dead for twenty-three days. When was this intel given to you?” the old man said, hoping for an answer above twenty-three. “...only last week sir.” “GOD DAMN-IT!” the man raged “You better not have just killed Dog Pack.” The men in the elevator all suddenly became incredibly confused.

Meanwhile: The much less confused Delta Squad accomplish the last part of their plan:

This was the exciting part, well, it was all exciting, but... Jagger knew he would enjoy flying through the air. Ghost, who was standing around half a mile away from where Jagger was facing off the cliff, shot a large dart, with rope which looked like the rope that the plane had been pulled by earlier, attached to it. The dart landed right on target. Just below where Jagger was standing on the Cliffside. Jagger got his rifle. Placed it over the rope, leaning over the side of

the cliff. As he did this, he suddenly felt dizzy. He dropped down over the cliff, but, like the plan had intended, he was hoisted by his gun and he slid the half mile down the zip line which the rope had created for him. As he reached the rest of the squad they all jumped in the jeeps, The Commander jumped in the driver’s seat of the first one. A man called Rhino drove the second. Another man whose codename was Hawk, drove the third. Jagger got in the back of the jeep that The Commander was driving. In the back seat of the jeep, Delta One; Boomer was slouching there. Boomer and Jagger had become almost friends in the moderately short amount of time it took them to arrive at Victory, as they had sat next to each other on the way.
As the jeeps started up and began to make their to the evac point further down the road, where it came closer to the sea. Jagger said, “so now what?” Jagger shrugged “we just leave ‘em?” Jagger said, looking at The Commander then turning to Boomer, who was searching around in his bag that was now resting on his lap. The Commander leaned his head towards Jagger so he could hear him over the roar of the engines. “Well, we could. But that wouldn’t allow a certain someone to live up to their codename.” “What do you mean?” Jagger asked questioningly... “Well, Jagger, in the same way we don’t call Delta Three Ghost for nothing. We don’t call Delta One, Boomer for nothing either.” At that. A very loud, very explosive sound came from behind the jeeps. Jagger initially thought it was an enemy bazooka that had been shot at them so he ducked his head and covered his ears. He then came to realise it was not them who had been shot at, but, looking back at the church, it was the first of a chain of three explosions inflicted on the church. The first one Jagger did not see. But the other two Jagger saw in full detail. The first one had hit the lower part of the elevator shaft that Bear Pack were using to get in and out of their hideout. The second hit the lower chuch, blowing some of, likely most of, the foundations of the building. This caused the remainder of the church, which was the top part of the elevator shaft (which the Bear Pack were in), to fall down, then the third and final explosion, hit the remaining church, which was in mid-air, falling slightly left of the church as it exploded in one last firework of doom.
Boomer was cracked up, in a strange slightly evil sounding laugh, no, not evil, demented, Jagger thought. “That’s why you call him Boomer?” Jagger said, looking with a raised eyebrow at the man, now wriggling around with giggles in the back seat of the car. “Roger” said The Commander. Boomer, still laughing, tossed the detonator over the side of the jeep. A few minutes later the jeeps pulled up when they arrived at the evac point at the beach. “Ok, lets GO GO GO!” Shouted the driver of the second jeep, Rhino. A submarine surfaced slightly onto the beach. The Jeeps slowly drove into it as the back of it folded down into a ramp. It was a big submarine. “What is it with you guys and ramps?” said Jagger in a jokey tone. “What, got something against ramps?” said Hawk, nudging Jagger, when they got on-board the submarine. Boomer, was the last one in, as he was still laughing like a hyena over the explosion he made.

The Submarines Descended, and as they did, Jagger was watching out of the periscope. “That was fun,” he said as he turned around... he was surprised to find Rhino standing behind him. Rhino was stood very close to Jagger, almost as if he was trying to intimidate the smaller, weaker Jagger. He then slowly said, in a German accent “Yes, well, welcome to the jungle.”

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31-03-2010, 06:38 PM | Post: #3
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Part Three

Chapter 7: Down the local

“So... tell me again how you did it... Commander?” the voice came from a radio on-board the submarine, for the third time in the last five minutes, the Squad Commander proceeded to explain the plan they had executed to get rid of two enemy Squads. The Commander had a hint of amusement in his face, he liked acknowledging peoples amazement at his squads capabilities. “Well, sir, a few weeks ago Ghost managed to gather the intelligence, while on a routine raid, they had somehow found out about our plan. They knew we were going to pose as dog pack. So, we simply re-formed our plan a little. We hacked into the radio frequency of the squad stationed at Victory church. When Dog Pack radioed in that they had not in-fact been attacked by Delta Squad, we simply said we know. Our plan worked from there really, Jagger eliminated the Sniper who was supposed to make the jeeps explode, this meant that they personally had to go and check for survivors, when the squad in the church left, Boomer and I went in, set charges and got out of there. Then, lets just say we drove away with a boom.” The old High Commander on the other end of the radio could only a stifle a mumbled “well done,” before he turned off his radio. “Good job lads.” The Commander said to everyone on the submarine.

The Scar faced man was trying to explain to Battalion leader that he had not intended to kill off a friendly fire team. “But, Sir!!!” he grovelled. “You, you... you... couldn’t understand!” The Battalion Commander sounded mocking over the radio, “Yuh... yea... yes?” “Is that true?” “Poor you, your squad is dead, and it’s ALL, YOUR... FAULT!” “Sir, plea...” The Scar faced man tried one more time, but was cut off mid-sentence “Look, you are going to the seaside, to the next invasion site understood?” The Battalion Commander paused... “You are going to the seaside, but first, you will be part of an experiment, run by the R.A.S.A.G.D. You know the R.A.S.A.G.D... yes?” Scar-face waited and impatiently replied “Yes, sir, I know the Royal Advanced Science Atom and Genetics Division, but... what do they want with me? They only deal with the wounded beyond repair and... erm... genetically suited volunteers?” The Battalion leader laughed, “Yes, and... let’s just hope for your own sake, you are genetically suited!” He paused then said, “or... wounded beyond recognition...” The leader laughed again, then ended communications between the scar-faced. Leaving him wondering what R.A.S.A.G.D. wanted with him. Heh, no doubt this was some kind of insane, horrible and inhumane punishment. He began to wonder, if life would be better as a National, maybe he could just walk into the Seaside town and convert. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. The future would decide for him.

Two weeks later

Matrix was sat on a bar stool in the pub in Buccaneer bay, around forty other people, sat in the bar too. Even though the Bay was Royal territory, the town in it was held by National forces. It was always under siege, as the nearest Royal barracks was very close by near a heavily fortified farm. The rest of Delta, lined up beside him on stools of varying height. All of them were wearing casual clothes, they were not on duty, they were all talking to each other as well, except Matrix who was not uttering a word. He sat, sipping his Dark, almost Reddish Ale. Delta were all enjoying their drinks. Except Jagger, who was too curious about what was up with The Commander. “Matrix?” Jagger said, to which came no reply. Delta had all ordered their favourite drinks first and second time round, but for the third round, Jagger noticed, they had gotten extremely high-percent alcohol drinks, which Jagger found odd, as they were drinking them, very, very slowly, instead of downing them like everyone else. Ghost had noticed a man nearby who was playing his favourite pub game, Dagger-Dare. The man was doing it very slowly. Putting his knife in between each finger and bringing it back up, then targeting the next space between his next fingers and bringing the knife down slowly. Ghost had found this fairly amusing, and had gone over to show the man how it was done. The man had an accent that was a mix of two accents, American and German. He was smoking a large cigar. The man said, “what do you want, good sir?” when Ghost arrived at his table. Ghost slowly took out his own knife. Then did the Dagger-Dare so fast that his hands were almost a blur. “Wow,” the man said, “I’ve never seen anyone do it that quickly, god... where did you learn to do that?” when Ghost gave the reply, “I taught myself.” The man said, “well, I bet I can amaze you, with something that I taught myself, you tell me whether your amazed or not and if you are, you buy me a drink.” The man quickly drew a pistol, one of the new automatic ones. He then set his hand in the Dagger-Dare position. Then stood up, aimed his gun at his hand, and shot the gun, which was unleashing two to three rounds a second. He moved the gun in an arc that matched the way his fingers were sprawled on the table. When the gun was out of ammo and it was making a clicking sound, Ghost looked at the man’s hand. It was unscathed. The bullets had made holes in the table, but not in his hand... Ghost walked away. To buy the man a drink.

Jagger had flinched at the sound of the shot’s, but then was relaxed when he saw Ghost walk back, having not been shot, as Jagger had feared, and Jagger heard a man laughing from where Ghost had just come from, mumbling something like, “one drink... please.” Ghost then bought the man a beer, then came to sit back down with Delta. Jagger’s attention shifted to Boomer. “Whats wrong with him?” Jagger asked Boomer, “Who?” Jagger gestured to The Commander. “Ah, well... Jagger... Jagger I am leaving the army, going back to my wife.” Jagger was momentarily stunned, “how long will you be gone, I mean, you are coming back, right?” Jagger questioned, in a shaky voice, like that of a teenagers whose voice had just broke. “Well,” Boomer said, “I’m part of a special ops team, so... I would not be allowed time off, at all... unless, I quit for good.” Jagger was stunned even more so, Boomer had only just come into Jagger’s life, he was perhaps the kindest and most straight-talking and helpful person in the squad. Jagger had required Boomer’s help more than once, in a difficult situation with one of the other squad members. Boomer was full of advice of what not to say or do. “Your going? Forever?” Jagger exclaimed, turning a few heads in the Bar. “Yup, most likely, unless the war escalates to a level that I would return out of hatred of Royal men.” Boomer sighed, took a swig of his beer, then put his head in his hands. “What’s Up?” Jagger said, “Jagger, I have to... I have got to do this, my wife wants me home, she thinks its getting too dangerous.” Boomer looked up towards Jagger mid-sentence. “So, you mean... you don’t want to go?” Jagger said, meeting his gaze. “Nah, why would I? This job may be dangerous, but we are the men who walk into hell, make something explode, then walk out smiling, having threatened Death and the Devil themselves.” Boomer laughed as he finished his sentence. “Are you drunk?” Jagger questioned, as he did not find the statement funny, more true, than funny. Boomer replied . “No, heh... it’s just...” Boomer smirked. The rest of Delta were laughing now, even Matrix. “What is it?”, “Sir, what’s funny?”

Matrix stood up, the rest of Delta followed his lead, standing up, then kicking their stools and chairs underneath the bar-top. Jagger’s face was twisted in confusion. Matrix turned first. Then the rest. Facing all the other men in the pub. At first everyone looked up, but quickly looking down again, as they realised they had been compromised. “LOOK AT ME!” Matrix bellowed, suddenly... he had stopped laughing. One of the men in the far corner of the pub, slowly put his hand to his ear. Then began to mutter something. Matrix continued, “Do I look like a fool?” He brought out his Pistol, the rest of Delta did too, aiming at each of the people in the pub, in turn. “National Scum” One of the men muttered. “Royal fool, do you enjoy dressing as Nationals, I bet you cross-dress as well, you are not worthy to wear our uniforms!?” Matrix said, and aimed his gun at the intruders face. All of the men in the pub, drew their pistols and small firearms. Aiming them at Delta. The Bar-tender was in shock, “ROYALS!? How did they get into my bar!” He half-shouted, half-screamed. “Rhino turned his head to the Bar-tender, keeping his guns facing the National-dressed Royals. “I don’t know... but we know how you’re going to get out, out of the back door... NOW!” The man did as told... running out of the back door. He tripped over as he went, and everyone in the pub heard him curse. Delta, slowly began to flank around the Royals, to get to the front entrance/exit. They took their drinks with them. Gripping them while holding a gun with the other hand. Except Rhino and Vulcan who were each holding two guns. They pushed their drinks along with their feet. “One of the Royal’s said, “c’mon... theirs 30 of us and 10 of them. Let’s just shoot them and go home,” the Royal who said this, brought his gun up, level with Ghost’s head. Just as he was about to squeeze the trigger, the man in the corner who had spoken with Ghost earlier. Shot the man in the back of the head. Blood spurted up from his head. Over the table. This provided a worthy distraction. Every Royal head turned in the pub. Towards the man holding a smoking pistol. Still aimed at where the dead man’s head previously had been... when he was alive. Using the distraction, Vulcan and Rhino both kicked their drinks into the crowds of Royals, one smashed on somebody’s head. The other landed directly in the middle of the main crowd of Royals. The rest of Delta threw their drinks, and Matrix poured his drink on the floor. This was when Jagger realised why the squad had all ordered high-alcohol drinks on the third round.

Alcohol was explosive.

Matrix lit a cigarette, then dropped it into the puddle of alcohol. Then Delta sprinted around thirty metres away from the pub, which exploded, and burned, burned for a-long time. Before anyone realised.
“Where is Ghost?” Jagger said, looking around at the members of Delta. Matrix’s face suddenly, came into a... OH... OH ****. Expression. Delta ran to the door of the pub. The fires were too strong and they could not bring themselves to run through them. Matrix ran around the back of the pub. Vulcan, Boomer and Jagger followed him. As they came around the pub, Jagger was not prepared for what he saw. Ghost... or what was probably Ghost, lay on the floor, by a smashed window, rolled up against the wall. Inside the window was the bar’s storage room. Which was repeatedly exploding as each keg full of different drink. Was found by the menace that was the fire. A few metres away from Ghost’s body, which was disgustingly burned, his face was un-recognisable. A man crouched. He was not Royal. It was the man who Ghost had been amazed by earlier. He crouched, bent over in agony.
Matrix, went over to him. Just as the rest of the squad ran around the pub. Then stumbled away in horror. Before running forward again to help. Matrix found a note, clutched in the man’s hand. It was short and simple, it read:

Matrix, meet my replacement.

Matrix dropped the note to the ground. That cold, unforgiving streak, ignited. He went and kicked the man in the head. He was knocked out instantly. “Why, would Ghost risk his life, to save that guy?” Jagger enquired. Vulcan walked past Jagger, hoisted the unconscious man onto his shoulders and said, “It doesn’t matter. Point is, we have work to do.”

Chapter 8: Byes and Booms

A burned down Salty’s Tavern. Being re-built by local volunteers, and of course... helped by the source of the fire, The Delta Squad. 3:00pm
“Boomer... are you sure?” Matrix said, a small tear forming in his eye... which was briskly brushed away by his lightning fast hand. “I’m sorry Sir, but I have to.” Boomer replied. Looking down, into the dusty floor, then laying down another brick, pasting cement onto it. “Well, ok... let’s just work out what to do first.” Matrix said slowly. “I... I...” Boomer sighed, “Do you think this pub is going to look better built out of bricks?” Boomer put off something, but... Matrix couldn’t tell what. “I don’t give a damn to be honest,” Matrix said. Hawk, Delta Eight... came over to Matrix a few seconds after that. He said in a fairly deep, Belgian voice, “Sir, high command has been trying to get through our frequency for hours, Jagger only just found out how to receive in-coming messages on the thing.” This made Matrix laugh. “You didn’t tell him?” He chuckled. “I figured he would work it out, and it would be a boost to his initiative.” The friendly man chuckled along with Matrix. “And, did it?” Matrix lightly questioned... “Well, he’s recorded every single piece of information and orders that High Commander Neon has issued.” Hawk smiled at Matrix, then said... “better start getting out of here, we’re needed at the coastline to the west in at least a day.” Matrix looked Hawk in the eye “Is it time?” “No... it will probably just be another Seaside Skirmish, they’re happening all the way up the coast. Except in those ones WE are the attackers, trying to take back our lost land, Commander Neon needs us there because we can’t afford to lose this town, Reefwater, it’s our last major outpost on this damn island, but no sir, this is not the attack we have heard about, at least it’s unlikely.” Hawk shook his head. Matrix sarcastically said “Well, wouldn’t want to return to our homeland now would we, where guns and knives are banned and the threat of war is very minimal...” “Do you ever think of returning home, sir?” Matrix looked around, to see Jagger standing with a clip-board with a few sheets of paper clipped to it. His speech quickened as he reached the end of his sentence... “No, on that island I am no-one. Here I protect people, here I try to make the Royals pay. We were here first, we came over from our home-land over a decade ago, they came four years ago, bringing their guns, no thoughts of sharing the land, only destruction and invasion, I have vowed never to leave this land, until I have dealt with the Royal threat.” “I see sir.” Jagger said, sorry he asked. “Hawk,” Matrix said, swivelling his full form over to see Hawk, who had now donned his shiny golden sunglasses. “Prepare the truck, we got a long drive... and... Hawk, the new guy, he’s coming with us.”

Eight hours later, on the road to Reefwater. In a large Truck.

Matrix looked Boomer in the eyes, squinting. Boomer was forced to look away. He couldn’t hold a stare. Matrix, Boomer, Ghost’s replacement, Tank and Jagger were sitting in the back of the truck. Hawk was driving, Vulcan and Rhino were in an armoured jeep following the truck about ten metres behind. “Matrix” Hawk said. “Yes... what is it ?” Matrix broke his constant stare at Boomer, to look towards the drivers seat. “You need to organise the squad, yes... I mean... the battle at the riverside a month ago, that took a few of us down. Now Ghost is gone and Boomer is leaving. We will be an insufficient number if we do not organise ourselves.” “Yes, Hawk... I understand, it’s just...” The Commander paused. “It’s just...” Hawk beckoned for Matrix to continue, though Matrix could only see his left hand, as the trucks driver compartment was not fully opened to the back of the truck. Matrix said “It’s just... have you noticed, Hawk, that... in seven years of being in Delta, we have not lost a single man, then all of a sudden, in the space of two months, we have lost Delta Four, Delta Two, Delta Three, Delta Nine and Delta Ten. Either we are getting worse, or the Royals are getting better.” There was a pause, then Boomer said, “I think we know which one it is sir, Delta Squad never gets worse.” Matrix nodded. “And... worst, I am about to lose you, Boomer... leaving the army, the last of the first Delta members, leaving... the... army.” Boomer just bowed his head and clasped his hands together between his knees. “Matrix... do you mind stopping the truck at Lotterick?” Matrix looked at Boomer, “why...” He said, stretching out the single word. “I’m getting out there, my family are staying there, away from reeftown, where the battle will be.” Matrix sighed. “Your not coming to fight?” Matrix asked. “No, no I’m not, I can’t risk dying, sir.” Matrix sighed again, longer this time, “I understand,” he said. Matrix pulled out a map, then drew a line in pen which he pulled from his jacket, from their current position, to Lotterick village. Handing the map to Hawk he said “re-route to this position,” Hawk bent round to look Boomer in the face, who was again just looking at the floor, almost in... what appeared to Jagger, to be embarrassment. “Roger that.” Hawk said, turning back around to concentrate on the road ahead.

One Hour Later

Boomer left the back of the truck. The Delta Squad all exited their vehicles, and stood in a semi-circle around Boomer. It was dark, their faces were pale in the moonlight, Boomer looked into the sky, Jagger watched his face wearily, after about thirty seconds, Boomer looked down. Matrix advanced on him, then shook his hand. “Goodbye, comrade.” Matrix said, slowly. “Bye, sir,” a tear came to Boomers eye, he let it fall down his face. Only Matrix noticed. He let his own tear, fall down his face. Which was hidden by the mask that he always wore. Matrix donned his famous dark red sunglasses. Over his mask. Then he re-entered the truck. The rest of Delta said their goodbyes, then returned to their original vehicle positions. Jagger’s goodbye, was shorter than the others, and less meaningful... Boomer might have been the most helpful guy in Delta, but... Jagger was never any good when it came to goodbyes. “Bye Boomer, I’ll miss you.” Was all he could muster. Boomer laughed, “try to stay alive, kid.” Boomer said. With that, Jagger went back into the truck. “Drive” Matrix said. “Copy that,” Hawk said as he eased on the accelerator. Matrix looked into the wing mirror of the truck. Boomer was walking slowly, head bowed to the ground. Matrix said “turn the radio on,” Hawk looked into the rear-view mirror, at Matrix, then at Boomers slowly shrinking silhouette. He turned a dial to the left of the steering wheel. Then another one, and the volume came up. An old war song, made ten years ago played. It was the end of the song almost, the words that were most relevant to war.

Those who walk, walk alone
Those who run, run together
Those who fall, don’t get up.
Those who die, are on the battlefield forever.

The song finished, on one solemn note. After the note ended, the truck was silent again, except for the muffled roar of the engines. A minute later, an emergency broadcast came on, using the familiar warning tone, which was drilled into every soldiers head. This caused everyone in the truck to straighten up and look curiously at each other.

“This is an emergency broadcast for all National troops, this is broadcasting on every available frequency, please pay attention, this is not a drill, I repeat, this IS NOT a drill. Today, at precisely 7:32PM, one hour and fifteen minutes ago, the Royals broke the third conduct of war in this land. They attacked at night, when our soldiers were resting. Soldiers, you are no longer safe at night. The Royals can attack at any moment. Even in the night, when you are supposed to be resting.” The broadcast repeated three times. Then ended in the same eerie silence that existed previously. Hawk turned the dial again, the man on the radio began saying “In a few minutes we will be talking to a National General about the new rumour of Royal ‘Mass Destructive’ weaponry, which was reportedly used recently in a large battle to stop the Nationals from interrupting the Royal advance, the enemy army there was trying to make its way to a rendezvous point where Royal armies will be meeting to launch a massive attack on Reefwater. They were reported to be, huge fireballs, which erupt into the air, obliterating EVERYTHING... more on this new terror soon though, as we talk about the Royals breaking the conduct of No-Night-Fight...” Hawk flicked the radio off, “sorry sir, I don’t want to listen to that crap.” Matrix looked at Hawk out of the corner of his eye and said “it’s not crap, is it? I was at the aftermath at that battle, you didn’t see what I saw, Jagger didn’t even see, he was there, the initial explosive was detonated over a mile away from where he was. Yet it still knocked him off the edge of a cliff.” Jagger nodded through this, looking at Matrix then turning to Hawk. Then back to Matrix, then back to Hawk, and so on and so forth for as long as Matrix talked. “Surely sir, it’s a slight exaggeration!?” Hawk exclaimed, almost fearfully. “No, it most def-” the sound interrupted Matrix. Ridculously so. The sound rattled the truck, causing Hawk to swerve the truck a little bit. “What the-” Hawk was only just heard over the sound, but the last word was still lost. “STOP THE TRUCK!” Matrix bellowed above the sound. Just. Hawk slammed on the breaks. Then he opened the truck door on his side, then proceeded to fall out. Matrix opened up the back of the truck and everyone filed out, the jeep had swerved into a ditch about 30m behind them. The sky was a menacing red, orangey mix. The road from where they had just come from, the road where Boomer was, the village... Lotterick. Looking down the road. Around six miles down, a huge cloud of smoke was pouring out. The smoke looked like it was coming from a chimney, that chimney was Lotterick, even from six miles away, the fire could be seen. Like a glowing beacon. Then the shockwave hit. It was not visible until a mile away. Even then it only appeared to be some kind of rapidly moving heat wave. It moved quickly though, hitting their position a few seconds after it was visible. Matrix was thrown backwards. As were the rest of the Squad. The truck was sent spinning in the air. It landed on Rhino. Barely missed Tank and Jagger, who had landed nearby each other. It clipped Roth’s hand on the way over to Rhino, snapping the bone in several places, the bone punctured the skin at three points. The truck was on Rhino. Vulcan was thrown off the road, out of the trucks path. He now lay in a small shrub. The land became a kind of desert around them. As the shockwave carried immense heat with it, incinerating any vegetation nearby. The shrub Vulcan lay in was also incinerated. The Delta Squad lay unconscious. Some maybe dead. If one listened closely, you would have been able to hear Hawk, who had landed in the road-side ditch, “Ok, I believe you.” Before joining his comrades, in the space between unconsciousness and death.

Chapter 9: The Plan

“The shot was a success ,sir.” A Royal dressed in dark blue clothing, equipped with many pockets for various things, with a lightened blue paratrooper hat on, said in an American tone. “Yes, Corporal, I understand that,” the Major said, “Lotterick is gone, the forces from there are not going to trouble our advance,” after saying this, the Corporals radio buzzed, he picked it up, then held the ‘receive’ button on it. The voice on the other end said, “hello Corporal, please report to your Assault Captain, he will assign you ten-men and then you will be given your brief.” The corporal apologised to the Major, then left to walk at a quickened pace towards his Assault Captain’s tent. Hundreds of men were doing the same, heading towards their assigned captains tents. It was almost impossible to make it through the crowds.
Arriving at his Assault Captain’s large quarters, big enough to fit fifty men (with a squeeze). The corporal was addressed with some hearty hello’s from the lower ranks. “Hey, how’s it going Corp. Gochief?” A man with ridiculously long hair said. “Morning, Chief” a blonde guy with aviator sunglasses, who was sharpening his knife, murmured. Then finally another small-ish guy said “Sup,” Gochief did not reply to any of them. His eyes were too focused on his Assault Captain. “Whats the plan, sir.” This caused twenty-or-so other heads to turn and look towards the Captain. In the middle of the large tent, lay a table with a map on it. It was a map of Reefwater and its surrounding area. “So...” The Captain said. “The plan is, pretty good actually...” “Go on... we don’t have all day” a guy in the back of the room said. Chief turned to scowl at him. The Captain stared at the map, in a sort of trance, after around five minutes of this. He began to explain the plan. “Ok, the main force will come in from the east, there will be around two-thousand infantry and two-hundred tanks. We will deploy our air-force when it is called upon. This will probably be an hour or so into the battle. They will most likely know of our approach. This won’t matter, the estimated number of Soldiers stationed at Reefwater is from eight-hundred to one-thousand. Reinforcements will arrive, but we have destroyed the road leading through Lotterick which is the only road leading directly to Reefwater. This will slow them down. The reinforcements will either cross-country or take another route, we have stationary units placed down all possible routes, that will either destroy reinforcements or slow them down further.” “Sir, how many men are at each stationary unit and how much reinforcements are we expecting?” the man with stupidly long hair asked. “At each stationary unit their are between one-hundred to one-hundred and fifty men. We are expecting up to one-thousand men to come to the aid of Reefwater, but... they will come in small pockets, because they are spread over the country. This means our men will likely take them down.” “Ok sir.” “Now, this is where we come in... the Nationals will have an advantage, they will have cover and barricades and elevated positions, we however, are the ones who will eliminate this advantage, with an advantage of our own. The advantage, of surprise. The Major, has requested that he lead a surprise attack with eight-hundred men from behind Reefwater, we will all mount our shiny, newly developed assault water-craft. They can carry one tank and twenty men each. We will approach the beach. Then deploy the tanks and men onto the battlefield, from behind. There is a bridge that connects the southern road to the lighthouse area. We will come up from underneath this bridge, eliminate any Nationals in sight, we will then place demilitions on the Lighthouse and Bridge, bringing down the main elevated position for Reefwater. We must make sure we don’t blow it up so it falls on buildings, we must take Reefwater with minimal damage if it is to be of any use.” “Sir, why do we take out the bridge, then?” A man who Chief did not recognise asked. Chief answered this one, “Its so nothing can hit our flanks,” The Captain looked at Corporal. Gochief, “very good, corporal, now... the final part to the plan, involves pushing forward and doing a sweep on the village and lighthouse areas. When all National resistance is defeated, The Major will meet with The General from the eastern attack and together they will raise the Royal flag in place of the Nationals.” The thirty-two men in the tent all nodded and murmured to their comrades. “When does the attack start?” Corporal Gochief asked. “Well, it will take us roughly eight hours to mobilise all our troops, then six hours to arrive, it is six minutes past four now, that places our main force on the enemies doorstep at around six in the evening. We might as well wait for a night attack, to give the water assault a higher-chance of not being spotted. So I’d say... the attack will commence at nine P.M.” “Understood Captain!” The men shouted. Then saluted.

“Haha! Your going to lose, man!” A man dressed in elites sped down the road. In his large four-by-four. Two other similar cars sped with him. They were bulky, their engine’s roared through the area, their head-light’s stretching out into the dark and early, misty morning. Zachary was leading the other two, Zeroed and Lowa. They were all fighting for first place, each vehicle appeared to be a blur of colour. Zeroed levelled his car with Zach’s. “When I beat you to Lotterick... you owe me twenty BEERS!!!” “Oh, hell no!” Zach shouted. Speeding up and pulling away. Lowa pulled beside Zeroed. “Hey man, you know what to do... I’ll take his left, you take his right.” Zeroed nodded. They both sped up to ninety-miles an hour. Gained on Zach, then started to shunt him on both sides. Zeroed began to slowly shove his car to the right, only to be stopped by Lowa’s roadster, which was on the left, both men pushing in opposite directions, Zach’s car was taking damage. “Hey guys!” Zach shouted, laughing. “Guys, quit it!” “C’mon!!!” Zach heard a crunching sound. “Seriously, guys, stop!” He said in a matter-of-fact tone. Sensing the seriousness in his voice, the other two drivers pulled off then began to slow down their cars with him. They exited the vehicles a few metres ahead of Zach. “If you guys have broken my baby, I’m going ta’ kill you.” Zach stated as he jumped out of his car. He went straight over to the bonnet of it. Flicked it up, it was smoking. Zeroed ran over laughing and stating “how much did you buy it for? Lowa followed this with a “Cheap old thing.” Zach ignored them and looked for the problem. He thought he saw a dis-connected wire. Then a piece of metal jammed in between something that looked important, and something else that looked equally important. Zeroed arrived just as Zach began to re-connect the wire. “Zeroed, do me favour and jump in the car, when I say go, see if it will start.” He said. “Anything you need me to do, Zach?” Lowa questioned while peering over Zach’s shoulder. “Yeah, hold this.” Zach handed him the chunk of metal. Then gave Zeroed a thumbs up sign. Zeroed revved the engine while looking down at the steering wheel. Lowa and Zach both looked into the bonnet, “I think its fixed” Lowa said, “Yeah.” Zach replied, fast. They both looked up. Then Zeroed and Lowa started walking to return to their jeep. “It’s getting less misty.” Zeroed stated, almost to himself. “I think it’s moving away.” Lowa stopped and looked into the air. It was definitely clearing very quickly. All of a sudden. They could see it, at first it was just a silhouette through the mists. Then over a period of thirty seconds. It came into full view. Lotterick, was burning, no house was without fire. The area around Lotterick was blackened. Then for a mile around, the ground was just dry, cracked dirt and mud. No vegetation whatsoever. “...What... what... happened?” Zeroed fell to his knees. Lowa went to pick him back up. “Our Families...” Zeroed managed to say. “They were... all... they were all in... l...Loterrick.” Zeroed began to cry, and Zach who had ran over to him, joined him. Lowa, seized hold of the situation. “Guys!” He shouted, encouragingly. “Get it together, we must look for survivors! Only death awaits those who do not try!” His words growing in intensity as he spoke. Zeroed stood up and Zach stood by his side. Together they stared at Lotterick. “Your right.” They both said in unison, then entered their cars. And rode towards Lotterick, over the desolate and barren ground.


The sound of two-thousand men, taking five steps in perfect timing. It could be heard anywhere on the country. At the National H.Q. however, were the ones who actually knew what that probably was. “How much intel on this assault do we have?” a man with grey hair and sideburns said. “A little sir... not enough.” A man who sat at a typewriter said, like everyone else in the room, dressed in standard National military clothing. “Damn!” the grey haired man hit a desk full force with his fist. “I want scouts sent out. Get me some intel!” He said, taking a sip out of his coffee.

Two hours later

Zeroed, Zach and Lowa revved their engines up, having accepted that their were absolutely no survivors from the explosion. They cried. But they knew they had to leave. They sped up towards the bridge in Lotterick. It was gone, they didn’t care though, there was a stump where the old bridge was and it provided a ramp which shot them speeding over the river. Usually this would have been exhilarating but, not today. Not on their families day of death. There expressions were the same from when they started the jump, to when they finished, sad, bewildered and helpless. Almost two miles down the road, Zeroed spotted something lying in the middle of the road. He slowed his car down, then looked out to the darkened, burnt fields. Zach and Lowa stopped with him. They all exited their cars. There turned out to be around nine men lying around the site of where a large truck had been thrown over. Most of them were still alive. One guy, had a piece of metal through his heart. Coming in from the back and going out through the front. Another guys legs had been crushed by another piece of large, twisted metal. But he was still alive. They managed to get everyone into their cars. The guy under the metal was the most difficult, requiring Zach and Lowa to push the metal thing back, which was EXTREMELY heavy. As it slowly slid back, Zeroed grabbed the mans wrists and yanked him out. Wincing when he saw the mans legs. The bones had broken through the skin in several places,” They were all on the vehicles. When Zeroed, Zach and Lowa, started their engines and began to speed down the road. Once more.

Jagger remembered this feeling, the feeling of not seeing properly, everything being blurry, sound being distant. He blinked, and the blurriness got slightly better, “Where am I” he tried to pronounce. It came out weird, so he didn’t try again. “I think I got a live one!” He heard someone shout, but it sounded a little distant.” “Me too!” Someone shouted, seeming closer. Jagger heard a screeching of tires on a distant road. Then a man walked around to Jagger. “Hello, sunshine.” He said. Lightly slapping Jagger on the face. Jaggers sight and hearing came quickly back from its distant state. As it did. Jagger remembered what had happened and was sick over the edge of the vehicle he was lying in. “Lovely, just great.” The man said, who was dressed in elites. “W...where am I?” Jagger managed to stammer. “You, are in the back of my car, and that car is headed for the coast, where it will be loaded onto a ship, along with me, then escorted back to our homeland.” Zeroed said, in a mildly sarcastic tone. “Well...” Jagger began, then more realisation flooded over him “NO! We’ve got to get to Reefwater, join the fight against the Royals!” “Relax,” Lowa said... walking over to Zeroed and Jagger, “he’s just kidding himself, we’re going to fight those Royals whether he likes it or not.” He stated bluntly. Zeroed laughed, “Hell yeah, they killed lots of my friends and family when they destroyed Lotterick, they are going down.” “Good...” Jagger sighed. “Wait...” He abruptly continued... “Are they ok? Delta Squad, my friends?” “Most of them...” Zach said... looking up from the passenger seats in his car, he was checking everyone’s pulses. “This one,” he continued, “He’s not made it.” He pointed to Tank. To Roth. Jagger was shocked, “They call him Tank, ‘cause he can take a beating.” Jagger said. “Well... I’m sorry, but this one he couldn’t take.” Jagger felt tears run down his face, he didn’t know Roth personally but... still... Roth was... just a guy trying to stop a terror. Those men do not deserve to die. “And... this one’s legs are badly mauled,” Jagger looked at Vulcan, “Will he be ok?” he said. “Don’t know.” “We’ll get to a hospital, then continue to the Battle.” Zachary said. “Well... ok” Jagger said, “But... you might want to wake that guy up,” Jagger pointed to his Commander, Matrix. “Why?” Zeroed looked at the guy. “Don’t really want to, he doesn’t look like ‘my type’ really...” Zeroed seriously joked. “Just trust me, he’s gonna be pretty helpful.” Jagger smiled.

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31-03-2010, 07:07 PM | Post: #4
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Part Four

Chapter 10: Realisation of Decimation

The man watched them go by. The man that had a scar on his face. He sat in a self-made trench. Just big enough for him to duck and be completely concealed, just big enough... for him to surprise someone. His binoculars were dusty, he had trekked out here, it had taken him almost four days. Then here, he had waited. For this moment. As soon as he saw the explosion, he had become tense. As soon as he heard the engines. He knew his waiting, might nearly be over.
He grabbed his Tank Buster. Which he had found in a nearby abandoned armoury. He grasped it, feeling the cold metals urge to kill swim through his skin. He raised it to his shoulder, then crouched a little, so only the top half of his head was visible. The weight of the weapon almost made him lose his balance. He thought of what these men had done to him, to his squad and to the Royals. This anger surge made him determined. As the engine sound grew louder. His thirst for revenge grew with it. Waiting for the right moment, to strike, to prevail in his mission. His own mission...

“Where to?” Zeroed said over the roar of the engines.
“See that turn, like... two-hundred metres up the road?” Matrix said, through half-shut eyes.
“Yeah I see it.” Zeroed said.
The dust that the car in front made was making it really hard for Matrix and Hawk to see. They were all awake now, their eyes wet from trying to rid themselves of dust.
“Ok back there?” Hawk shouted to the car behind. “Hows Vulcan doing?”
Jagger stuck his thumb up. He was in the trailer around the back of the car behind, it was not swinging at all however. It was actually attached by steel joins. Making it more part of the car than an attachment. Zachary was driving it, Striker, the new Delta member, Ghosts replacement, who was found in a pub, was sitting next to him. He looked pretty scared. Matrix had told him that he would train him after the battle, along with Jagger. Jagger however, was conscious that they might not even survive the battle. Vulcan started coughing. Then blood spattered from his mouth, running slowly down his chin.
“Guys!” Jagger shouted.
Zach turned around, “What is it?” he spoke with a face that was exhausted, however he still cared, so he said “Is Vulcan ok?”
Jagger looked down at Vulcan, then up to Zach, shaking his head. “He’s not doing well, how long till the hospital?” Jagger shouted, his eyes were not just wet from the dust now.
This time Striker answered, “twenty minutes.” Striker weaselled out of the seat he was in, then clambered over the seats and onto the trailer. He came over to Vulcan and Jagger, still clambering. He got to Vulcan, slowly grasped his hand and started telling Vulcan he was going to make it.
Jagger’s facial expression deepened. “Hang on man. Just hang on.”

“They will die!” “They will all die!” The scarred man screamed in his head, then found it had come through his mouth.
The engines were roaring now, inside his head as much as anything. He could hear them, he could feel the explosion. He could taste the blood. He could smell burnt meat. He could see the carnage. Then it became his chance. He had spotted them. The Delta Squad, coming around the corner, they turned at the edge of the rock that was set perfectly for his ambush. So they didn’t see it coming. He aimed his Tank Buster.

“You sure its this way?” Zeroed said. His car stationary, a few metres behind Lowa’s who was around a metre away from going around the bend which was blocked by a rock.
“Yeah, I’m certain, I wouldn’t forget in a time like this, we need to save Vulcan.” Matrix replied, in a tired and sorrowful voice.
“Well... if we take a wrong turn, then... that Vulcan guy won’t make it.” Zach said raising the volume towards the end of his sentence, like he was under stress. His car with attached trailer was stationary behind Zeroed’s
“Well... if we take too long, he will die anyway.” Hawk said, backing up Matrix, as always. Zeroed noticed the lack of emotion in his voice.
“Guys, c’mon this is the right way... I’ve been to the hospital dozens of times.” Lowa said impatiently. Then he revved his engine and turned the corner. Rhino, in the back of his car, shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Zeroed followed, as did Zach. Just as they were about to take the corner. Zach stalled.
“What is wrong with you!” Striker shouted.
“Its not me! The bloody thing just stalled,” Zach cried out, “what the hell is wro-”
Jagger flinched at the next sound. The sound of an explosion.
“Back up! BACK UP!” Hawk shouted. Jagger heard this and that familiar sense of worry built inside him. Just as the back of the car that Zeroed was driving appeared. Another explosion was heard. This time bits of stone and rubble came off of the rock next to the bend, the one that prevented Zach’s jeep from being seen. Zach, who was obviously in shock, was not all that responsive.
“ZACH!!! Back UP! Jagger shouted, scrambling over the back of the jeep and over the seats to yell into his ear.
A few seconds later Zach snapped back into action. “I am!” He shouted back, as he accelerated the car backwards. Much like Striker had early, except in the opposite direction... and faster.
“Careful!” Striker yelled, a little too late, Zach ran over a small rock that made the whole car bounce due to lack of suspension. Yet another explosion slammed into the road, this time it actually hit the road, instead of the rock. Luckily though, Zeroed had managed to reverse also.
“Get out of the cars!” Matrix bellowed as he dived from Zeroed’s moving vehicle, slamming into the ground side-on. The others all did the same, exiting the vehicles, which had been parked abruptly. Not that anyone cared, obviously.
His Scar ran from his eye, his eye was looking through a sight that was attached to his Tank Buster. His finger, was tense over the cold steel trigger. Then his finger pressed it. And a rocket spewed forth from the tube. It slammed into the side of the first vehicle through the gap. Hard. The car, along with Lowa and Rhino was sent rolling into the air. Then gravity brought it into the ground, in an eruption of fire. He quickly turned in his hole, grabbing another rocket, he loaded it into the chamber, brought the Tank Buster back up onto his shoulder then fired, once again. This time the projectile veered off course. Grazing some of the rock, the rocket slid into a small crevice in the large stone and went off on impact. He then loaded again. Firing in between the gap now, trying to hit the second jeep in the line. He hit where he had intended to, but the jeep had moved faster than he expected. The explosion only touched the jeep.
The scarred man screamed, “I’m COMING FOR YOU!!!!” He shouted as he vaulted in his hole and grabbed his assault grade Tommy’s Typewriter, along with the Tank Buster. He ran towards the Rock, climbed up it, then peered over the top. They were just there!

“Suppressive fire, Suppressive fire!” Matrix yelled towards his squad.
“With what sir!? At what sir!?” Striker said in a half-shout,
“Kill anything that moves with anything you can!” Hawk said, receiving a nod of approval from Matrix.
“Check Rhino’ s status Jagger!” Matrix said, before saying to Zeroed. “You got anything to kill whats about to come for us?” Zeroed tossed Matrix a pistol, who in turn tossed it to Striker.
“What? I’ve... I...” Striker began protesting, but the look Matrix gave him made him feel he could do it. Jagger, who was desperately trying to contact Rhino and the other car was distracted by a grunt-like shout. All of a sudden, a royal leaped over the rock. Unleashing a clip of bullets, which lit anything they touched on fire. Hawk was rolling on the floor because his clothing had been caught by one of the bullets, setting it into an inferno.

“Striker!” Matrix shouted. “DO IT!” Striker acknowledged. Pulling out from his cover behind the car, swinging round, bringing the pistol towards the royal. The royal turned also, everything seemed to be in slow motion. Strikers gun was aimed in the correct place first. His finger cracked down hard on the trigger.
“It’s out, Sir!” Striker shouted as he dived down into cover behind the car again. Followed by a whizz of bullets where he previously was. He quickly curled up into a ball beside the car.
“Zeroed? Where the hell is the ammo?” Matrix gave Zeroed another one of his, ‘you are so dead’ stares.
“In my car’s glove compartment, underneath my hat!” Zeroed said in a whiney voice, as if he was about to cry.
“Hawk! Get the ammo!” Matrix pointed to Zeroed’s car, around twenty metres up the road. Now, this would be simple, in most circumstances, but twenty-metres while under fire is like twenty metres into the locked gates of hell.
Hawk got up and ran.
Bullets landed, cushioned into the ground behinds Hawk’s feet. He could feel them and hear them closing in behind him. The rat-a-tat of the machine gun was muffled to Hawk, his one goal, was the ammo in the glove compartment. Once he reached a suitable distance, he ejected into a forward roll. Landing behind the car.
“Jagger, Rhino... what’s his status?” Matrix looked at Jagger, “Please, Jagger. PLEASE!” All Jagger could manage was to shake his head then look down in sorrow. “DAMN IT!” Matrix shouted.

Hawk was hurriedly searching through the glove compartment for the rounds that he needed so badly. The royals fire had been diverted back to the other cars. He was only being suppressed by the throwing of stones and small rocks. Hawk needed this ammo. Or the squad would be torn a-part by burning Typewriter rounds. Then he felt it, in all its cold lead brilliance. Bringing the single bullet out. He threw it at Striker, in a pre-calculated arc it closed in on striker, who, a second later, caught it. Ramming into the magazine of the gun then loading that into the actual fire-arm. He readied, aimed, then fired. The bullet slammed into the royals shoulder, who was stationary at that particular moment. However, this did not cause him to go down, and he continued spraying bullets everywhere. After a few more seconds of this. His gun started to make the same clicking sound Strikers did earlier, but repeated. He dropped it and pulled his Bazooka on his shoulder.
“MOVE!” Matrix shouted. He stood up fast then sprinted in a diagonal line heading left and away from the royal. The others scattered in multiple directions away from the gunner, who unleashed his first trajectory a fraction too late, hitting the ground where striker was a second before. The explosion knocked Striker away a few metres and onto the ground. He was clambering to get up, as the royal slowly walked towards him, with his bazooka being loaded.
Jagger looked back, “Striker! Get up!” He shouted with his hands forming a cup around his mouth to project the sound. The royal smiled at Jagger, in a twisted way. Then aimed his bazooka at Striker.

YES! He had gotten this far! Now was the time to begin the REAL pain. Starting with this guy. A guy was weakly trying to get up twenty metres away from the scar-faced man. Although that distance was being shortened by the fact that he was walking towards the befallen guy. Loading his rocket as he went. Three seconds later he stood ten-metres away from him. Bazooka aimed at his head. The explosion would not damage him here. Only the man on the floor. His trigger finger tightened.
Everything went blurry, his whole body felt like it was on fire and being grinded up by a paper-shredder. He tried to scream in pain. He could not. He tried to twist out of whatever was hurting him. He could not. Then, blackness.

Hawk’s car broke most bones in the royals body on contact. It impacted with an exaggerated crunch. The royal was sent spinning a few metres away from the car. Then he lay in the mud. He tried to get up, but he barely moved. Death’s cold embrace hit him suddenly, without warning.

The moral of the story: Careful of the roads, kids.

Nah, joke. Big Grin

Hawk was beaming. “Roadkill!” He shouted then beat his chest. Matrix and the others however, were not so happy, they slowly advanced back into the cars. Everyone was crying a little.

Two hours later

Matrix was ready to move on, they had buried Rhino and Lowa. They were both dead. They had received a better burial than most Soldiers though, who were just left at the scene of battle. Left to rot, and to join their comrades, in becoming useless mud.

They got in their remaining cars, and set off towards the hospital, to save the barely living Vulcan. Jagger was the only one who was still crying. Out of ten original Delta members. Three were left. One had been replaced by Striker. Then Jagger was added in just before that. That gave them five men. They were going to try to save a large area with five men. Or were they?
“Matrix,” Hawk said “After the hospital, we need to pick up the new guys.”
Matrix looked over his shoulder to Hawk, “I know. That will delay us another three hours.”
Hawk thought then said, “And that’s only if we take the fast one.”
Jagger butted in. “Fast what?”
“You’ll see kid, you’ll see” Matrix said, smiling for the first time since the incident in Lotterick.
They arrived at the hospital. It was dark when they got there, only one woman was at the front desk area.
“Excuse me?” Matrix said, “We need to get this guy seen to immediately.” The woman looked over at Vulcan, who was being hoisted by Hawk and Striker. He was unconscious and his legs were bare, black, burnt and very bloody. She ushered them in. Taking them through a short corridor to a doctor who was sitting at a desk, drinking tea. The doctor stood up as soon as he saw the state of Vulcan. He quickly grabbed a suitcase and lay it down on his desk. Un-clipping it.
“Lay him down there” The doctor said. Striker and Hawk did so, then stepped back.
“How long will this take Doctor?” Matrix asked. Looking deeply into the doctors eyes. As if trying to read his mind.
“I have no idea. The state he’s in is pretty bad.” The doctor cursed when he had a closer inspection of Vulcan’s legs.
“I’ll be back for him in a week.” Matrix said. Leaving the room along with Striker, Hawk, Zeroed and Zachary before the Doctor could comment. The nurse followed them.
“Excuse me but thats nowhere near enough time for him to recover.” She stated loudly.
Hawk turned to her. “Do you know Hotel Charlie?” He asked bluntly.
“You... wha... your..” she tryed to say something, no-one knew what. “Right this way,” she said after a few seconds. She walked back into the main lobby, then behind her desk pressed a button which caused a hidden trap door to open underneath her desk. Everyone dropped inside. When they got it, was dark. The woman lead the group with a torch, down through a damp old stone stairway. When she reached the bottom there was a tunnel. Which was lit well. So she turned off her torch. They walked down the tunnel, which descended ever so slightly. When they reached the end of that. Another button was pressed and a door hissed open in front of them, the doors plaque read, ‘Hotel Charlie’. “Reminds me of your place” Jagger joked. As they passed through the door. Hawk and Matrix’s mouths were the only ones which did not drop open at the site before them. It was the strangest thing Jagger had ever seen. It was a dark black colour. With the Delta Symbol, the same as on their uniforms and Matrix’s Hat, engraved on both sides. It’s body was angular, Its tail was sturdy and quite thick. It had two blades on top of it, that were a little bit lighter in colour than the main body. Matrix and Hawk entered the front, through a semi-transparent door. Jagger, Striker, Zachary and Zeroed entered the back, sliding open a steel door. When they slid it closed it was dark for a few seconds but then the inside lights illuminated everything. A machine gun was on a stand attached to the floor on both sides of the sliding doors. To the back of the helicopter were stacks of ammunition, rations and a few parachutes. On either side of the Helicopter, there were small, wing-like things. They could be just seen through the window when leaning into the pilot area, except they weren’t wings, below them, hung three large rockets each. Then on top of the wing-like objects, another tube like thing, probably the same model machine gun as was on the plane, was present. Another machine gun cannon type thing was in front of the pilots ****-pit. Sitting there, just waiting to rip-apart royal guts. The sound that the blades made when they turned was pretty quiet compared with the roar of the standard plane engine Jagger was used to hearing. As they lifted vertically off the ground, the sound grew a little bit louder, but not much. The ceiling above them opened. Then they took off into the night sky.
An old man was sat on a nearby bench, eating a tuna sandwich, when the ground opened. And a demon of the night a-rose. Two men sat in the demon. The demon was armed with all sorts of technological weaponry. But the man sat there. And he waved. Then the demon flew away.

Chapter 11: Express Recruitment

Chief looked back from his boat at the water spraying from the rotor at the back. They were scouting ahead from the main group of landing crafts. Checking the coastline, for signs of National resistance. They saw none. Only a few civilians trekking over to Reefwater. The on-boat sniper soon dealt with them. Stating “They’ll only make Soldiers out of them when they get.” Before pulling his trigger and ending the possibility. Chief slowly drew the map out from his deep coat pocket. Not intentionally slowly, it was just that he was thinking about the sniper on the boat. How much of a mindless killing machine he was. Born into war and obviously he loved it. Chief hated men like that. Nationals had families and friends. They had brothers and sisters. Fathers and mothers. A man who takes ones life without guilt. Is not worthy to be a man. A monster, is what Chief would call it. The boats radio went, Chief quickly picked it up. It was the fleet leader, the Major.
“Re-route, back to the fleet.” He said. Short and simple,
“On our way sir!” Chief replied. Then directed with his hand to the driver of the boat to turn it around and head back. However the driver didn’t understand, so the speedy iron boat’s re-routing was delayed until Chief told him. Making the sniper smile. Chief looked annoyed, the other people on the boat probably thought it was because the boat didn’t turn around on signal. They were wrong. It was the attack. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t Royals and Nationals just be in peace? Chief looked out to the sea. The sun was slowly beginning to set.

The Helicopter touched down by the road-side. By the side of a full battalion of armed National soldiers, marching towards Reefwater. Matrix was the only one to step out. The man who was most fascinated by the helicopter ran over to Matrix. Panting, he quickly said
“Is it time!?” His eyes met with Matrix’s dark mask. Which he had donned in the helicopter.
“Yes... come with me.” Matrix said, stepping back onto the helicopter.
The rest of the soldiers watched their comrade get onto the helicopter.
“Where you going mate?” One of the men said.
“What the hell? Syco?” One of the soldiers said, then aimed at Matrix.
The situation escalated.
Every member of Delta drew the nearest firearm and aimed it at the threat to their leader. Striker smirked.
“Try.” Striker said.
“Hmmmm...” The man with the gun aimed thought it over in his head. He lowered his rifle, saying; “Alright, bye Syco.” Then walking at a quick pace in the opposite direction. Striker shut the steel shutter that covered the side of the helicopter door. Hawk tried to stand up, more a crouching position due to his height and the ceiling of the helicopter. He quickly walked into the pilot ****-pit area. Two men sat there. They were not Delta members, just volunteers. From a separate National army known as the Knifing Commando Army. They had volunteered due to their befriending of some of the squad members. One of them was an artist by trade, but the war had made a tough soldier of him. Matrix knew him well. His name was MetroidDread, he was the leader of the Knifing Commando Army and he was here because of Matrix’s request. Matrix liked him because he respected that war was like art. Except the picture is bloody and violent. And when the picture is painted. Some people like it. Some people hate it. Depending on whose the victory is. The other guy, was named RaggedTHORN. He was under MetroidDread’s command. Also a member of the KCA, he was the best man for the job of helicopter pilot in Matrix’s opinion. Fast, quick-thinking. He knew how the copter worked, and he knew how it handled. A very good pilot. Metroid was there as a worthy co-pilot. But he definitely did not match up to Thorn’s handling skill. He was a good route planner though, his experience in war-fare made him know a-lot about where the main Royal AA emplacements were. Hawk stepped into the cockpit and showed Metroid a map, pointing to a place on the map and saying a co-ordinate. Metroid nodded, as the helicopter slowly lifted off.

Thirty minutes later...

Jagger climbed down off the Helicopter along with Hawk, Hawk’s large cigar was slowly becoming one of the brightest lights in the dusk that was currently present. He took a draw of it, before Jagger and Hawk set off into a run along the hardened stone path, the cottage at the end of it was of a medium size. It’s door was a red-brown colour and there were three withered steps leading to the door from the end of the path. A single light was on in the house, an upstairs light, third on the right. Jagger walked up to the door, grasped the small iron knocker and banged the custom three times, however, Jagger was quickly startled by a crash of glass. Turning to Delta II, he noticed that the sound had been caused by none-other than Hawk himself. He had thrown a grappling hook through the illuminated window. Jagger looked at Hawk, who signalled for Jagger to break into the house. Jagger followed Hawk’s order, slamming his shoulder into the door. Once, twice, three times and... it fell through. Leaving Jagger lying on the floor. Jagger slowly got up into a kneeling position, from there he got back onto his feet and quickly and light-footedly found the stairway, climbing it slowly, being careful to ‘check his corners’ and to assure that he was not startled and did not fire on a civilian. There were several doors at the top of the stairs, in a corridor that reminded Jagger of the corridor in Delta’s hideout. One doors frame was lined with light. Jagger walked over to it, the floorboards hardly made a sound as he walked, up until a floorboard in the centre of the corridor, which made a loud creaking sound. Jagger flinched as he heard the sound and slowly drew his left foot back off of the floor. Jagger’s ears detected that someone was moving on the other side of the door. He had obviously heard Jagger’s foot misplacement.
“Damn.” Jagger whispered under his breath, he tried to move slowly in the opposite direction without making more sound. But it was too late, the door swung open to reveal a medium sized man with swept back hair which looked oiled and a pair of protective goggle’s hung around his neck.
“WHAT THE F...!” The man began to say, but he was startled into silence when Hawk appeared behind him and shunted his pistol lightly into his back. The man began to speak quickly;
“Who are you guys? What the... what do you guys want? Take anything man! I don’t... just... ok please just take whatever and go... please don’t... god... oh please don’t hurt me.” The man did not break down, but he was ‘begging on his feet.’
“Relax soldier,” Hawk looked around the shoulder of the man to smile at Jagger. “It’s time to go. Grab your kit and move.” Hawk continued to the man.
“What...? What are you... no, NO WAY! Your Delta?” The man sounded astounded at the end of his exasperated sentence. Causing Jagger to smirk, he was proud to be a Delta.
“Yeah, we’re Delta, you’ve been selected and we’re going to a battle, we’ve got transport waiting outside so you better get your ass moving.” Hawk said in a flat tone.
The man looked back at Hawk. “One question, why’d you smash my window?”
“Gives you an idea of how we like to do stuff.” Hawk smiled again, not at Jagger this time.
“Fair enough.” The man said.

They arrived back at the helicopter a few minutes later and Matrix nodded to the new guy in acknowledgement.
“Alright, next guys only a couple of miles away. Let’s get going.” Matrix said.

3 Hours later

All of
All of the new guys sat in the Helicopter seats, being briefed by Hawk and Matrix. There were five newbies, codenamed beforehand, they had each been hand-picked by their predecessor Delta number. Matrix’s plan went something like this; quickly gather all the new trainee’s, fly over the Royal army, find out how big it was, report to High Command in Reefwater, then help defend the town.
“It’s not much of a plan, but it’ll have to do.” Matrix stated as he finished his briefing.
“Now, you have all been assigned your Codename’s previous to this occasion, please now stand, introduce yourself and say your reason for being here in Delta.” Hawk said, then he sat down and awaited for the first to go.
A tall man in a dark coat similar to Matrix’s coat worn when he was not in his Delta uniform, stood up first. He saluted then began;
“My codename is Fixer, I specialise in repairing vehicles and in supporting you squad leader, I am here to act as a third-in command of Delta, by request of ex-Delta two, Tank!” He said, nodding towards Matrix on the word leader.
“Hey guys, my Codename is Striker and I am here because of a guy called Ghost, I’ve been here a little longer than most of you and I’m not part of this Express Recruitment operation. But I have not had a chance to introduce myself as of yet, I was suggested to Matrix by a man who was known as Ghost. I am no sniper, so I do not serve as his replacement, I’m actually Delta Seven. I’m ok with a rifle and good with an SMG and pistol. I guess you could say I’m called Striker ‘cause I’m damn good with an SMG at long-range, I strike ‘em from half-a-mile away.” Striker shrugged and slouched into his chair.
“Alright, erm... Hi I’m Blitzkrieg, I like tanks and I kill stuff with them. I can fix up tanks ok, wow... Delta Five... when I met Snake I never thought he’d choose me to replace him in the squad... “ Blitz smiled wildly.
“Names Aviator, I fly. I fly fast. I shoot fast, what more can you need from a pilot? Need air-support... I’m your man. Thats Aviator, Delta Six.” Aviator spread his arms and said ‘pew, pew, pew.” Pretending he was flying a plane.
“I’m Flash, Delta Four, I move fast, for a LMG expert. I specialise in anti-tank. My ‘zooka is one of my best friends...” Flash laughed at the last part. No-one else did.
“Hey there, I’m Doctor. I’ve been a healer since I was a kid, always carried a first-aid kit wherever I went. Delta Eight is your new medic.”
“Scorch, I burn things, I use my incendiary ammunition A LOT, when I run-out. I get more. I go into every battle with enough incendiary ammo to light some serious ass on fire. I’m a fair sniper, nothing special though.”
Finally, a man sitting in the very corner of the Helicopter spoke...
“Delta Three, friend of Ghost.” He took a draw on his cigar, “He died, now I’m here to replace him as your sniper. I don’t got a codename just yet, I’ll figure mine out later.”
“Alright, I’m Matrix, Delta Zero, this is Hawk... Delta One, any questions?”
“NO SIR!” The squadron replied in unison.
“Then... let’s rock ‘n’ roll!” Matrix said, Hawk went back into the cabin to direct the pilot’s on where to avoid and where to fly over.

The sound of the huge amount of landing craft engines was almost deafening, each man was issued ear-protectors, even they failed to stop the rattling of Chief’s ear drums. Each craft had around twenty men on, and for every three crafts there was one boat, with a mounted MG and two snipers, with one driver and a medic. Altogether, 1200 men were slowly approaching the landing beach at Reefwater, slowly... they were getting in position. On the horizon, land was approaching. Chief swallowed his nerves and stood up in the boat, pulled a pair of binoculars to his face and gazed through them.
No Resistance.

“Alright, we’re headed for the seaside.” Hawk said.
Matrix nodded.
The Helicopter shook with the sound of eight men shouting “OOH-RAH!”
Zachary and Zeroed looked at each other, what was to come?

Chapter 12: Black Hawk Down

Jagger woke up, his eyes batted like the wings of a slow, cumbersome butterfly. The sounds of his surroundings slowly registered in his ears, and the sight soon after that. He detected a smell of damp. He sat in a clump of bags and parachutes, it was soft. He must have fallen asleep here on the Helicopter. His head turned slowly towards the nearest person, it was Vector, crouching next to him. Vector looked like a seasoned soldier, Matrix had also given a quick and official persona of each new member in the flight. Vector had a scar on the back of his neck and his face looked knowing and strong. He smelled of smoke, his thin cigar was quite long, its smoke was thin but it still created a slightly over-powering smell. Vector noticed Jagger’s eyes on him. He turned his head, meeting Jagger’s gaze. He raised an eyebrow in questioning,
“Have a nice sleep?” Vector said, taking his cigar out of his mouth, twiddling it in his fingers, then putting it back in.
“I guess...” Jagger said slowly, his eyes moving from Vector to the walls of the helicopter. “Where are we go-” Jagger was cut off.
“Uhhhh... Matrix, you might want to take a look at this” Thorn said over the comm. link,
“What?” Matrix brought his microphone closer to his face, he slowly walked through to the pilots sector of the helicopter.
“... Crap. Slide the door back Hawk.” Matrix said, after looking out to the fields below for a few seconds from the cockpit.
“Ok....” Hawk pulled on the two black handles on the side of the helicopter wall, the door went back, a rush of air flew in and Jagger shivered with cold. At first Jagger couldn’t see anything, because of the clouds creating a mist that covered the ground. But all of a sudden, the clouds began to clear and the sun stretched over the yellow fields below. The fields were swarming with Royals. All marching in the same direction. Tanks and jeeps moved with the troops, planes circled above them.
The Helicopter shook. Hard.
“What was that!?” Flash shouted, falling over into the hard metal floor.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday are we hit, I repeat are we hit?” Met said over the on-board radio. His voice echoing through the crews heads.
Aviator looked out of the side of the helicopter,
“Negative that is a Negat-” Aviator fell out of the helicopter, blood spraying from his arm. He’d been hit.
“awesome!” Hawk shouted trying to grab Aviator, failing, then retreating back to the inner helicopter.
The helicopter began to spin around.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday; do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? We got a man down and our flight is about to end.” Thorn said it this time, with the fierce determination to keep the chopper in the air.
“THORN!” Matrix shouted after quickly looking out to see what the rocket had done. “The damage isn’t bad, its just dented the god damn armour!”
“I think something has damaged our back rotor!” Thorn shouted, without turning around.
The world outside spun now, with extreme speed, the ground became closer. Royal planes were whizzing around the helicopter, bullets deflected off its armour, creating a firework type effect.
“Colonel!” Matrix shouted.
“Yes Sir!” Hawk replied.
“Do you reckon we’re high enough for a decent jump?” Matrix looked down at the spinning ground.
“Try or die sir!” Hawk said.
“Alright men! Grab a chute and follow me!” Matrix bellowed into the helicopter then he almost floated out of the side of the helicopter, as the updraft took him.
The helicopter hurtled through the air, it was dropping at huge speed, only three or four miles in the air by now.
The rest of the men jumped.

Except Jagger.

Jagger had grabbed his chute and ran for the helicopter door. But the helicopter had swerved and he had been thrown aside and slammed into the other side of the metal interior. The impact had dazed him, the world spun even faster because of the dazed effect and the helicopters rotation combined. He stumbled back to the door, falling over several times. As he reached it, he peered down at the spinning ground. He could see multiple men falling through the sky; Delta. One parachute was deployed which was probably Matrix’s since he jumped first. Jaggers head began to beat inside.
“Aarrrghh!” Jagger fell to his knees in agony. He clawed at the edge of the helicopter as it did a full rotation and almost sent him back into the wall. He pulled and pulled, his vision started to blur, his arms ached to the point of ultimate exertion. He managed to get his chest fully outside into the air. The ground was looming ever closer. His hair was blowing everywhere in the wind, his eyes were almost useless; they watered too much, blurring his sight even more. Jagger reached for the left pocket in his backpack-like parachute. It contained Sky-diving goggles which Jagger clumsily fumbled for and got, after twenty seconds of digging in the pocket. He got them half on, so that one eye was in and the other was not. Then he pulled extremely hard, yanking his full form outside of the chopper.
He almost lost the goggles but then grabbed them and secured them on fully. The feeling in his stomach was very strange, he had never had nothing beneath his feet before, the sensation was thrilling, yet terrifying. The goggles screen were red, making everything else red, the yellow fields below were orange. The royal army was a murky brown colour. Jagger could see Delta from here, they’d all landed in a wheat field about a mile from the royal army. One or two chutes had been left on the floor, presumably giving Jagger somewhere to aim for. Jagger heard a swooping sound and he instinctively tryed to turn around, which was impossible, as he was hurtling through the air at ridiculous speed. The helicopter barely missed him and it went spinning past him, its blades skimmed inches from his shocked face. Jagger looked at the helicopter as it went down.
Then he saw Thorn.
Still sitting in the pilots chair was an unconscious Sergeant. Thorn Ragged, of the 1st divison KCA, National Army. The helicopter began to fall away from Jagger, who knew one thing... That he had to help the pilot. Jagger got himself into a streamlined position, the wind picked up as did his speed and his clothing began to vibrate in the air. He aimed for the helicopter, swinging right, then left, then right again. Slowly he gained on it. The ground seemed to be getting way too close...
As he got very close to the copter, Jagger tryed to enter through the large opening. He failed, his legs slammed into the side of the copter, making him do repeated somersaults in the air. He fell away from the helicopter, which was now above him. This time he slowed down, to his dismay, the helicopter came at him a bit too quickly and he ended up chest first into the viewing screen of the chopper, where Thorn sat, peacefully. He tryed knocking on the window, but he couldn’t. The g-force was too strong to let him, so he resorted to plan B. Grabbing a pistol on his left hip-holster, he pointed it awkwardly at the screen.

“Jag*Radio Interference* A*Radio Interference* We don’t*Radio Interference* It’s Matrix, wher*Radio Interference*

Matrix was trying to contact Jagger from the ground, but Jagger was travelling so fast that it was impossible for him to get a clear signal.

It wasn’t working. Everytime Jagger shot the pistol, it would completely the miss the glass and the bullet would be taken away by the speed of Jagger’s falling.
“awesome!” Jagger shouted, but did not hear, due to the same reason.
Then a miracle happened. Another face appeared in the viewing screen. It was Vector. He gave a hearty wave to Jagger, then smashed the viewing screen with a metal object which Jagger had no time to see. Vector grabbed onto Thorn, then proceeded to let himself glide out of the area where the glass was. Thorn pulled his chair with him. He also pulled his pilots headset, the wire snapped, sending an electric shock through him.
Which jolted him up.

“WHAT THE ****!” were the first words Thorn could manage, as he hurtled through the air held by Vector. Jagger glanced at Vector, who was slowly pulling away from him.
“What an amazing man.” Jagger mumbled, then he established the same position as Vector, who had obviously done this before, and followed him in the air.
The ground was only two hundred metres away, roughly. So Vector pulled his chute, as did Jagger a second afterwards. Thorn’s screaming had subsided. Mostly. The jerk from the chute was not so bad. It hurt Jagger’s back though, but not badly. The two sky-divers and one ‘passenger’ touched down a few metres away from where the squad were positioned, crouching in a small cluster of tree’s.
“Get over here!” Blitz said in a harsh whisper.
“Second!” Vector replied quietly, he cut his parachute chord and ran over to the tree’s. Jumping onto his stomach when he reached them, then crawling over to Matrix’s side. Jagger did the same, but he stayed at Doctor’s side. The whole squad looked towards Matrix.
“Don’t worry Squad. We’ll still be at the fight tonight, we’ve just got to get some transport and stay well clear of those Royals.” He said, with speed.
“Enemy scouting party a click east of us, heading our way, sir.” Scorch said, looking through his sniper scope.
“Hawk?” Matrix questioningly asked his name.
“Aye sir?”
“Confirm that would you?”
Hawk took out his binoculars, looking in the same direction as Scorch did.
“Targets confirmed. Romeo is inbound.” Hawk slowly lowered the binoculars from his eyes and put them back in his utility belt.
“Delta! Get behind the tree’s, do not get spotted! One tree each!” Matrix whispered loudly, and everyone met his eyes.
They followed the order, crouching behind different tree’s in the small cluster.
“Give ‘em hell on my signal.” Matrix said, using the hand signal.
Three Royal jeeps slowed twenty metres in front of the cluster of tree’s. The Royals disembarked and began to spread out a little and sweep the surrounding area. They looked behind rocks, behind tree’s, until they reached the small cluster of trees.
“I don’t like this sir.” One Royal said, as he stood in a group with the other eight Royals six metres in front of the tall green death traps.
“Whats not to like? Not one for greenery?” The sergeant laughed.
“Theres nothing to be afraid of Smithy. Look.” The podgy Royal threw a grenade into the trees. It landed just behind one of the trees on the far right.

Vector’s face was not a happy one. A grenade sat just behind him. He couldn’t do anything about it. The whole squad’s heads were turned, looking between Vector, and the grenade.
“SSSSHIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTT” Doctor mouthed slowly, a small amount of sound came from his mouth.
Flash acted quickly, he bent over to the grenade, staying behind the cover of the tree’s. He grabbed it, then quickly began to disassemble its outer structure, before pulling and snapping one wire inside the grenade. The grenade never exploded.

“What the hell? Why isn’t my grenade going off?” The fat-panda was very confused now.
“I told you I didn’t like this!” The shaking royal began to run back to the jeeps.
“Oh Smithy! Get back here!” The sergeant shouted after him.

“Now!” Matrix shouted, accompanied with the organised hand-signal.
The squadron dived out of the cover of the tree’s. Shooting all the royals within a matter of seconds. Bullets ripped through each and every Royals helpless body, except the one who ran away. He lived a couple of more seconds. Before Vector whipped out his pistol.
The bullet slammed into the Royals back. Breaking it and ending his pathetic life instantly.

“Let’s move out Soldiers!” Matrix said, as the Delta Squad ran low towards the Royals jeeps.

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31-03-2010, 07:38 PM | Post: #5
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Part Five

Chapter 13: March

A siren plays almost melodically through Reefwater. The townspeople stop, the terror and panic slowly spreads like an infection through the town. Each individual’s face is slowly distorted into fear.

Two Soldiers sit inside Salty’s tavern. They slowly look at each other.
“It’s time.” A man sat with a beer in his left hand, a dark polished helmet was in his other hand.
“I know...” Another man, with a turquoise jacket hung over the back of his dark oak chair.
“Where you stationed?”
“South Frontline. You?”
“I’m on an AA North side, first defenders, next to the farm on the hill.”
“Your the ones holding off at the hillside farm?”
“... Good luck, I hear you guys are going to get the worst of the air strikes.”
“I heard that too, the main force is coming from the east and south though, so the guys at farm have been pulled back and they’ve built barricades and a shiny new AA on the eastern side of the lighthouse area for them to use. They’ve dotted bunkers south of the main Village, the south-eastern trench will be ready for use in an hour or two.”
“I understand that. But... well, we best get moving. We’ve got an hour.” The soldier put his dull steel helmet on, it had a soft glow in the dim light of the setting sun which came through a nearby window. He then slipped his arms through a turquoise leather jacket.
“Yeah, your right.” The other man said, placing his black polished helmet on his head.
The men both stood up. Finished their beers, and walked to the door of the dreary bar-room.
“You got a name?” The man in the jacket asked.
“... They call me Lace, used to run the bootshop in an outpost east of here. Outpost was destroyed, I and three others were the only survivors.” Lace shrugged.
“Yeah? They call me Wulf. I don’t sleep much, and I’ve got these.” Wulf smiled, he had two steel canine teeth which were larger than they would be if they were natural.
“Good luck Wulf.”
“Good luck Lace, maybe we’ll meet again when this is all over, we can even go for a real beer!”
“Amen to that.”
And with that, the two soldiers separated, departing for their posts.

20 Miles away. A lonely jeep plunders through the coming darkness.

Zeroed, Zach, Metroid and Thorn were all in a jeep. Speeding in the opposite direction of Reefwater they were around 20 miles away from where they needed to be. But they knew their mission. Matrix had told them what they needed to do, they were doing it. Thorn was still a little groggy. Metroid was nervous and Zeroed and Zach were quietly muttering. It had begun raining, clouds had completely enveloped the sky, making the landscape even darker. The jeep sped through muddy track after muddy track, nothing around the tracks were visible, just fields and mud for miles. The rain was striking the mud and making it jump into the air, pelting the ground, the entire jeeps contents, including the people, were soaked within the first few minutes of this rain. Zeroed was driving, yet he did not complain about not being able to see anything. It was his mission. A few minutes later, Metroid pointed at a light in the distance, blurred by the rain, but definitely there. The light steadily grew closer. Until the entire building was visible. It was torn up, it barely had a roof, its walls were mostly missing, but one corridor remained with walls but no roof. The party disembarked from the jeep, wading through the knee deep mud surrounding the building. They had all been here before. It was the hospital that Delta had used to hide their helicopter beneath. It was obviously not like this when they were last here. Through the rain, an old man could be seen sitting on a bench. He didn’t move, he was completely silent. He was dead, his flesh was ripped and slit and his face was not recognisable as human. Zeroed took a few moments to realise what the dark shape on the bench was, but after he did, he was sick into the mud. Zach, Metroid and Thorn waded on, while Zeroed was forced to crawl a few steps before he could stand again. When they all arrived at the entrance to the least destroyed corridor, they saw another body, this time it was splayed out on the ground before their feet. It had a large blood trail, behind it. This woman had obviously tried to get out of the building. A knife was placed in her back. As the group were all recoiling, footsteps could be heard echoing through the corridor. Zach looked up.
“Hello.” A man stood in a dark coat, half his face was covered by a black leather mask, and his eyes were covered by triangular sunglasses. His hair was free and falling down over his face and the back of his neck.
The rest of the group looked up,
“... Hi?” Metroids voice went higher at the end of this single word.
An awkward pause followed.
“Erm... who are you?” Zach said.
“They call me the Wanderer.”
“Ok, wanderer, what are you doing here?” Zeroed stood to his full height and asked this question in the Wanderers face.

“I’m doing what I can, for the Nationals, and for Reefwater.” Wanderers visible side of his mouth broke into a semi-smile.
“We’re looking for our friend.” Metroid said.
Thorn stepped forward for the first time in a while. “He’s obviously not here Met, he’s dead. Look at this place, even that guy outside died.”
“What happened here?” Metroid asked the Wanderer.
“Hell? What do you mean?” Thorn said...
“A new Royal weapon codenamed Hell. Its part of their new weapons scheme, this one is particularly nasty. Its a gas bomb. Dropped from a plane, anyone or anything that comes into contact with the gas and breathes it in loses control.”
“What does ‘loses control’ mean?” Zach asked.
“Well, aggression levels are sent into an extreme, an urge to beat and smash and kill arises. Turning any living thing nearby into a Predator in any way it can be one. A humans mind only knows how to kill with weapons, so it will. It only promotes aggression, it does not make a human less human. The effects wear off in an hour or so. In which the human realises what he has done.” The Wanderer eyed the knife in the womans back with disgust.
The whole group shuddered in realisation.
“I did however manage to save myself from most of the effects,” he brought out an old gas-mask from behind his back. I tried to escape this place, I ran to the nearest window and tried to climb out. I couldn’t quite manage, but then I saw a face I recognised in the same room I was in, he was in a coma, another man ran in here with a scalpel. He began trying to cut me anywhere he could, but I kicked him into a wall and ran him through with a rusty pole which I pulled off of the patients bed. I then put the patient on my back and ran him into the secret passages of the hospital. Underneath it. Which one of the nurses told me about before, just ‘in case.’ Then as soon as I got there I remember who the man on my back was, he was a Delta. I remembered after seeing the sign on the floor. The big Delta symbol. I’ve met Matrix before, this patient was with him when I met him. I figured I should save him and wait for someone.”
“Well, we’ve come for that guy.” Thorn stated.

The rain pelted Wulf’s steel helmet. It tore up the mud around him, and it soaked his clothing through. His whole unit was stationed around him. They stood in lines and rows, guns held diagonally across their bodies. An ominous glow could be seen in the distance, the Royals were coming. The glow stretched from the south to the east. A huge army. A few minutes later, the first Royals who were actually visible came over the horizon. Spotters looked through their binoculars, trying to count the Royals for National High Command, so that they could form some kind of plan.
“Soldiers!” The sergeant shouted.
“To your stations!” He continued, pointing his hand directly forward.
Wulf and his comrades moved forward into their bunkers.

The road sped past ridiculously fast, it was just a blur, Striker sat in the back, dizzy. Hawk drove the car, Matrix sat beside him, Striker behind him and Blitz behind Hawk. Doctor manned the rear MG. In the other jeep, Vector drove, Flash sat at his side, Scorch on the MG.
A siren plays almost melodically through Reefwater. The townspeople stop, the terror and panic slowly spreads like an infection through the town. Each individual’s face is slowly distorted into fear.

Two Soldiers sit inside Salty’s tavern. They slowly look at each other.
“It’s time.” A man sat with a beer in his left hand, a dark polished helmet was in his other hand.
“I know...” Another man, with a turquoise jacket hung over the back of his dark oak chair.
“Where you stationed?”
“South Frontline. You?”
“I’m on an AA North side, first defenders, next to the farm on the hill.”
“Your the ones holding off at the hillside farm?”
“... Good luck, I hear you guys are going to get the worst of the air strikes.”
“I heard that too, the main force is coming from the east and south though, so the guys at farm have been pulled back and they’ve built barricades and a shiny new AA on the eastern side of the lighthouse area for them to use. They’ve dotted bunkers south of the main Village, the south-eastern trench will be ready for use in an hour or two.”
“I understand that. But... well, we best get moving. We’ve got an hour.” The soldier put his dull steel helmet on, it had a soft glow in the dim light of the setting sun which came through a nearby window. He then slipped his arms through a turquoise leather jacket.
“Yeah, your right.” The other man said, placing his black polished helmet on his head.
The men both stood up. Finished their beers, and walked to the door of the dreary bar-room.
“You got a name?” The man in the jacket asked.
“... They call me Lace, used to run the bootshop in an outpost east of here. Outpost was destroyed, I and three others were the only survivors.” Lace shrugged.
“Yeah? They call me Wulf. I don’t sleep much, and I’ve got these.” Wulf smiled, he had two steel canine teeth which were larger than they would be if they were natural.
“Good luck Wulf.”
“Good luck Lace, maybe we’ll meet again when this is all over, we can even go for a real beer!”
“Amen to that.”
And with that, the two soldiers separated, departing for their posts.

20 Miles away. A lonely jeep plunders through the coming darkness.

Zeroed, Zach, Metroid and Thorn were all in a jeep. Speeding in the opposite direction of Reefwater they were around 20 miles away from where they needed to be. But they knew their mission. Matrix had told them what they needed to do, they were doing it. Thorn was still a little groggy. Metroid was nervous and Zeroed and Zach were quietly muttering. It had begun raining, clouds had completely enveloped the sky, making the landscape even darker. The jeep sped through muddy track after muddy track, nothing around the tracks were visible, just fields and mud for miles. The rain was striking the mud and making it jump into the air, pelting the ground, the entire jeeps contents, including the people, were soaked within the first few minutes of this rain. Zeroed was driving, yet he did not complain about not being able to see anything. It was his mission. A few minutes later, Metroid pointed at a light in the distance, blurred by the rain, but definitely there. The light steadily grew closer. Until the entire building was visible. It was torn up, it barely had a roof, its walls were mostly missing, but one corridor remained with walls but no roof. The party disembarked from the jeep, wading through the knee deep mud surrounding the building. They had all been here before. It was the hospital that Delta had used to hide their helicopter beneath. It was obviously not like this when they were last here. Through the rain, an old man could be seen sitting on a bench. He didn’t move, he was completely silent. He was dead, his flesh was ripped and slit and his face was not recognisable as human. Zeroed took a few moments to realise what the dark shape on the bench was, but after he did, he was sick into the mud. Zach, Metroid and Thorn waded on, while Zeroed was forced to crawl a few steps before he could stand again. When they all arrived at the entrance to the least destroyed corridor, they saw another body, this time it was splayed out on the ground before their feet. It had a large blood trail, behind it. This woman had obviously tried to get out of the building. A knife was placed in her back. As the group were all recoiling, footsteps could be heard echoing through the corridor. Zach looked up.
“Hello.” A man stood in a dark coat, half his face was covered by a black leather mask, and his eyes were covered by triangular sunglasses. His hair was free and falling down over his face and the back of his neck.
The rest of the group looked up,
“... Hi?” Metroids voice went higher at the end of this single word.
An awkward pause followed.
“Erm... who are you?” Zach said.
“They call me the Wanderer.”
“Ok, wanderer, what are you doing here?” Zeroed stood to his full height and asked this question in the Wanderers face.

“I’m doing what I can, for the Nationals, and for Reefwater.” Wanderers visible side of his mouth broke into a semi-smile.
“We’re looking for our friend.” Metroid said.
Thorn stepped forward for the first time in a while. “He’s obviously not here Met, he’s dead. Look at this place, even that guy outside died.”
“What happened here?” Metroid asked the Wanderer.
“Hell? What do you mean?” Thorn said...
“A new Royal weapon codenamed Hell. Its part of their new weapons scheme, this one is particularly nasty. Its a gas bomb. Dropped from a plane, anyone or anything that comes into contact with the gas and breathes it in loses control.”
“What does ‘loses control’ mean?” Zach asked.
“Well, aggression levels are sent into an extreme, an urge to beat and smash and kill arises. Turning any living thing nearby into a Predator in any way it can be one. A humans mind only knows how to kill with weapons, so it will. It only promotes aggression, it does not make a human less human. The effects wear off in an hour or so. In which the human realises what he has done.” The Wanderer eyed the knife in the womans back with disgust.
The whole group shuddered in realisation.
“I did however manage to save myself from most of the effects,” he brought out an old gas-mask from behind his back. I tried to escape this place, I ran to the nearest window and tried to climb out. I couldn’t quite manage, but then I saw a face I recognised in the same room I was in, he was in a coma, another man ran in here with a scalpel. He began trying to cut me anywhere he could, but I kicked him into a wall and ran him through with a rusty pole which I pulled off of the patients bed. I then put the patient on my back and ran him into the secret passages of the hospital. Underneath it. Which one of the nurses told me about before, just ‘in case.’ Then as soon as I got there I remember who the man on my back was, he was a Delta. I remembered after seeing the sign on the floor. The big Delta symbol. I’ve met Matrix before, this patient was with him when I met him. I figured I should save him and wait for someone.”
“Well, we’ve come for that guy.” Thorn stated.

The rain pelted Wulf’s steel helmet. It tore up the mud around him, and it soaked his clothing through. His whole unit was stationed around him. They stood in lines and rows, guns held diagonally across their bodies. An ominous glow could be seen in the distance, the Royals were coming. The glow stretched from the south to the east. A huge army. A few minutes later, the first Royals who were actually visible came over the horizon. Spotters looked through their binoculars, trying to count the Royals for National High Command, so that they could form some kind of plan.
“Soldiers!” The sergeant shouted.
“To your stations!” He continued, pointing his hand directly forward.
Wulf and his comrades moved forward into their bunkers.

The road sped past ridiculously fast, it was just a blur, Striker sat in the back, dizzy. Hawk drove the car, Matrix sat beside him, Striker behind him and Blitz behind Hawk. Doctor manned the rear MG. In the other jeep, Vector drove, Flash sat at his side, Scorch on the MG. Reefwater approached on the red hazed horizon. Like a beacon of fate, it approached. Its lights filling the dark sky with the emotions of the world.

“Squad, Lock ‘n’ Load!” Matrix shouted.
“Yes Sir!” They all replied in unison, arming their weapons.
“OOH-RAH!” Matrix shouted with his Squad.

The lights of Reefwater grew closer, and as they did. The sights of War came into sight, overturned tanks, burning buildings, burning people, gunfire lit up the ground, and artillery tore up the ground around Reefwater. But the Delta Squad turned away. They had to make a de-tour.

The time for battle was almost upon them. Upon them all. Fear, Power, Destruction. Tools of war, which one would decide their fate?

The fate.

Of the Twenty Third.

Chapter 14: Besieged

The Royal tanks flooded over the hill like a deadly tidal wave, rushing across the ground and tearing it up. The rain came down and it was louder than everything else, pelting against the ground, the buildings, the vehicles and the soldiers. Lightning was also shooting down from the dark sky, one could say, the heavens had opened.

Wulf fired his bazooka at one of the tanks; it did damage, but failed to destroy the armour.

“Lets do this boys!” He shouted to the men around him, loading his bazooka and taking another shot, which swerved off-course.

“Damn it!” Wulf spat in the direction of his enemy.

“Down soldiers, get your heads down!” The sergeant shouted, all the soldiers dived into the half-dug trench. Two tank shells flew over their position and slammed into the ground a few metres behind them.

Wulf started to get back up, and then he instantly hit the floor again as another group of tank shots flew into their position, some actually shattering the left side of their defences. Two soldiers who were two slow at getting back down had lost a limb each, combat medics dragged them off back into the town screaming.

“Sir, we need to get out of here! Those guys are just going to do that agai...” Yet another tank shell ripped the ground up a little way from the sergeant.

“You have your orders Soldier. This, is your post.” The sergeant was cold, he turned away and walked a few paces back into the small bunker.

“Bastard!” Wulf shouted after him. SHey
Scowling in disgust, he turned back and activated the mounted machine gun, it took a few seconds before it began unleashing its rounds, when it did it vibrated the ground around him. He roughly aimed it at three people in the turrets of separate tanks. Two toppled out of the tank-tops and one was quick enough to duck inside the heavy armour. The tanks that Wulf fired at had noticed the sudden rattling sound coming from his direction, their turrets all turned as if they were connected. Paused for a moment, then opened fire on Wulf’s position. Wulf had no time to react. The ground behind him burst into flames and the Sergeants bunker was ripped up in an instant. Several of his fellow Soldiers were mortally wounded and died within a second. Wulf realised he hadn’t been injured and before the smoke had even cleared, he was sprinting across to the next bunker. Another tank shot hit a few metres to the left of him while he was running, causing him to flinch and duck slightly, but he kept going. When he reached the next sooty, bunker, the tanks had lost him amidst the fire and smoke.

The bunker contained only three men, they were bloody, blackened and bruised. They didn’t say anything, nor did they even acknowledge that Wulf was there, they just stood there, panting. Waiting to be called out to the lines again. It stank of sweat and smoke, the smoke was so strong that it stayed on the tip of a tongue, Wulf could almost taste it. A radio in the corner of the room, on top of a small wooden desk, emitted a loud beeping sound. One of the Soldiers walked purposefully over to it, he picked up the receiver, after a few moments of silence, he put it down again. The farm on the hill has been taking. Royal forces are moving in from that direction as we speak. Of the men placed at the hill, most are dead. However, there is a report of a prison truck rounding survivors up.

Wulf had only one thought.


He sprinted out of the bunker door, back onto the intense burning of the battlefield. A Royal tank was positioned about ten metres in front of him as he ran out, causing him to skid to a halt. It looked at him with its one eye, he looked at it. Wulf instantly felt defeated, he fell to his knees, in fear, no. In acceptance. The Royal inside must have been laughing, savouring the moment. He slowly began to press the fire button. Proving that nothing can be savoured in war, as a man who was inside the bunker, ran out with a rather large bazooka. Steadying, aiming, firing at the tank; blowing it into the air. Wulf was helped back on his feet by the man, and sent on his way with a;

“Good luck, Comrade.”

He ran through the town, women and children were running about hurryingly everywhere. It was hard to navigate through the smoke and them at the same time. Eventually he reached the other side of the town, he could, by now, see the hill. The farm was just a mess of rubble, fire reigned the area. Wulf could see nothing at the hill, no tanks, no soldiers. It got worse as he snuck his way over there, dodging between trees and rocks, just in-case. He stood among the fire and rubble, it was all destroyed. Around him; burning, destruction.
A wounded Royal crawled out from behind a destroyed tank, he was behind Wulf. Slowly, he drew his pistol from his chest holster. Taking a shaky aim at Wulf’s lower back, his finger slowly pressurising the trigger.

Wulf slowly began to turn, he felt like someone was watching him. The Royal’s finger finished pressing the trigger, the gun clicked and the shot flew out of the barrel.

Wulf heard the shot fly by him, felt the wind carried by it and dived into the rubble a few feet to his right. He did a quick hit check on his own body, he wasn’t hurt. He grunted and summoned enough courage to take a quick look over the rubble. One Royal, lying next to an over-turned tank. Wulf drew his pistol, standard issue, meant for short range encounters. He rolled out of cover and quickly dispatched the Royal by shooting him in the arm.

“GAH!” The Royal shouted and dropped his pistol. Wulf ran over and kicked him very hard in the head to finish him off, when he saw another person crawling out of the rubble. Wulf brought his pistol up, level with his right eye.

“Hello?” Wulf said, loudly.
Slowly approaching the crawler, Wulf’s tension grew.
“I said Hello!” Wulf pounced on the crawler, turning him over and revealing his face, which Wulf’s pistol was now firmly pointed at.


“Ah, sorry ‘bout that.” Wulf holstered his gun and stood up, offering a hand to Lace who gladly accepted. Dusting himself off, Lace began to speak;

“Thanks... Wulf... isn’t it?” Lace questioned.

“Yes... What happened?” Wulf gestured to their surroundings.

“Nothin’ good, we were overwhelmed pretty quick too, there were a ridiculous amount of tanks, they just ran straight through us. I think I’m the only survivor, and...”

“And what?” Wulf said as he walked over to the dead Royal, picked up his pistol then discarded it as useless.

“And I’m hit...” Lace removed his hand from his lower ribs to reveal a lot of blood and a ripped up jacket.

“...” Wulf recoiled, falling softly onto his knees.

“I ain’t got long left Wulf...” Lace covered his ribs again, with a sigh of pain.

“Neither do any of us Lace, neither do any of us.” Wulf nodded, looking out to the town. Tanks had pushed in through the main road and were making their way down towards the lighthouse.

A loud siren rang in their ears.

“Thats the retreat Siren, we fall back into the main base, underground.” Lace said.

“Yeah, we get in via the lighthouse?” Wulf questioned, he hadn’t been there since his training a long time ago.

“Yeah, theres a stairway at the bottom, then three vault doors, two fifteen inch thick steel doors, then one 20 inch thick, nothing can get in there. Not even one of those Royal Fireballs.” Lace laughed, and broke into a coughing fit.

Wulf tried to steady him,

“Medics, there’ll be Medics there.” Wulf sounded a little excited.

“So?” Lace looked up, from his slightly crouched position.

“So... you’re going to be ok, lets get movin’!” Wulf said.


“We’re making a little de-tour.” Matrix said.

“What do you mean?” Striker said.

“You’ll see.” Hawk said, winking at Matrix.

30 minutes later, the entire Delta Squad did see.

A large Air-Hangar.

“If we’re going in, boys. We’re going in Airborne.”

Chapter 15: Into the Rabbit hole

“So, Wanderer, do you have a real name?” MetroidDread asked.

“I probably did.” He replied slowly, provoking strange looks between the others.
The now heavier rain was coming down hard. It was actually painful to be hit by it, especially whilst travelling fast in a jeep. All was quiet, except for the occasional out-loud thought or question, and the sound of the rain. Metroid was driving, Wanderer was next to him. Thorn and Zeroed were in the back, Zach was sitting on the back end of the car, holding on, and the patient, Vulcan ; lay across Thorn and Zeroed’s laps.

“Why are you called the Wanderer?” Thorn asked looking towards the wanderer, then towards Metroid whose eyes met with his. He then felt in his dark-grey coat pocket for his bottle, and, drawing it to his lips carefully took a sip of whiskey.

“They call me that because they don’t know who I am, One day I just ‘wandered’ into that place, I couldn’t remember who I was, how I’d got there, where I’d come from. I still can’t. “

“Damn.” Zach said.

“Yeah, so I stayed in the Hospital, hoping for them to help me, they called it amnesia, said I would recover. Five years, and nothing. One day a man wearing a mask walked in, I went and asked him what the mask was for, and he said it was to forget. I explained my situation to him, and he simply answered that I was lucky, that he’d rather be me.”

“And that was Matrix” Metroid stated.

“Yes.” Wanderer smiled.

“I never really notice Matrix’s mask. It’s just something you get used to.” Metroid said.

“Yeah, well, a few days after I met him, a parcel was delivered to the hospital for me, it contained this.” Wanderer tapped his half-mask.

“Oh, I see...” Metroid sighed.

Another awkward silence ensued.

“Whiskey?” Thorn held his bottle up a few minutes later.

“Sir! Engines are online!” Doctor shouted.

Matrix turned around, nodding at him. He had a welding mask on and a blowtorch in his hand.

“Matrix, we’re going to start loading up the the bombs and shells.” Flash said.

“Alright, get on with it.” Matrix replied as he turned back towards his welding.

Hawk and Striker were all busy with an assortment of paints, painting a large emblem on the side of the air-ship. Flash and Blitz were beginning to load ammo onboard, and Matrix and Vector were strengthening some of the joints around the outer surface of the vehicle. Jagger sat with Scorch and Ranger, watching on the horizon; the town of Reefwater, the sky lit with fire and the sirens splaying all kinds of warnings. Ranger had a guitar in his hands, strumming away at it a kind of slow-hard-metal song, inside the hangar a hammer could be heard beating against steel. It made a lone drum beat that Ranger played to, his playing and the sirens and the hammering all triggered emotions in Jagger. This was it, all or nothing, very soon to now, Jagger would be in the midst of the sirens, and the fire. Tears fell from his eyes, he couldn’t see past the next hour, walking into the unknown, gun in hand.

“Three... Two... One.”

The man next to Chief pressed the detonator. The lighthouse erupted into fire, it creaked and waned. The metals used to make it were giving a final shriek of defiance. Then another set of explosions went off, toppling the lighthouse. As it fell the lower part of it slammed into the ground, the rest of it fell off of the cliff, crashing into the ground and rolling bouncing and smashing a hundred metres until it made a gigantic splash into the sea.

“Good job.” Chief whispered into the radio.

The Royals had landed on the beach, and Chief was one of the first ones off. They’d expected at least a bit of resistance, but not one shot was fired. Only the occasional sound of a shot came from the town as well. Chief and the passengers on his boat and another boat were all slowly crawling their way under the bridge, trying to sneak up on the remaining resistance near the lighthouse, follow through and meet the main force in the middle of the town.

As Chief came over the top, he raised his gun, ready to shoot anything that moved.

It was like a ghost town, strong winds made bits of ash and very small pieces of debris rattle along the floor. Chief slowly began walking, his left foot first, then his right foot at a ninety-degree angle. Giving him a stance that enabled him to quickly spring into cover and crouch, if he ever needed to; Chief walked in this stance for about ten steps before a flood of Royals came from behind him, running normally. He joined them, and began to run. When they turned the corner for the town, a short distance away, sat upon some crates. Were the Royals who were supposed to meet them in town.

“... Hello Sir.” Chief said, as he approached the Major.

“Welcome to Reefwater!” He said, stood up, and shook Chief’s hand.

“... Looks like you didn’t need us then...” Chief continued, gazing at his surroundings.

“Heh, the Nationals retreated as soon as we broke through their frontline, our spotters saw a huge amount of people running into the lighthouse. Not just Soldiers, civilians too. I’m not an expert, but I’d say you could fit about one hundred to one hundred and fifty people in that lighthouse, with a squeeze. The spotters estimated about two-thousand people, over a period of thirty minutes, entered the lighthouse.” The Major said, still standing, staring at where the lighthouse used to be.

“They must be underground...” Chief stated.
“Thats what we’re thinking, but we haven’t got around to clearing the rubble from the lighthouse yet, so we can see if there is an opening.” This time a man to the left of the Major spoke, in a strange accent.

“Let’s get going then. All of our men are off taking their spoils and searching for survivors, so we’ll have to take the back-up force to shift all the debris.” The Major slowly began to walk in that direction. The others followed and picked up pace with him

“C’mon Lace, we’re almost there.” Wulf said, as they climbed down into the elevator inside the lighthouse. Wulf had to help Lace, because he could only crawl on his own.

Wulf pressed the button. As soon as he did, the whole elevator rattled and threw Lace and Wulf in separate directions.

“What the...!?” Lace shouted as the tremors came to a halt.

“They’re attacking the lighthouse, c’mon damn it!” Wulf shouted as he hammered his fist into the buttons once more.

Again the elevator shook, more ferociously this time. After about ten or so seconds of the violent shaking that threw Wulf and Lace into multiple surfaces, the whole elevator began to become almost weightless for a few seconds. As if it was falling...

“... Is this supposed to happen?” Wulf shouted over the creaking metal.

“Uhhh... Don’t think so... “ Lace said.

A very loud sound, like a dying monster, came from above. Wulf and Lace both looked up, to see a slowly opening hole above them, they were getting further and further away from it.

“The lighthouse is falling!” Lace formed a cup with his hands around his mouth, projecting his full shout towards Wulf.

“But we’re not in it anymore!” Wulf did the same.

“Then I guess the elevator worked!” Lace bellowed back.

A hissing sound could be heard, and the falling slowed down. The elevator slowly came to a standstill and the double cage doors opened. Wulf and Lace fell out, in front of a dozen National soldiers, all weapons pointed towards them.

“Hold fire!” The one at the front said, the one who looked the most nervous.

“Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” Wulf and Lace put their hands in the air, they were still sprawled on the floor.

“They’re on our side, relax.” The man lowered his gun, as did the others.

“Welcome to Base 17, five-hundred metres underneath Reefwater. As of now, the last safe place in Reefwater.” The man continued, and then looked at the elevator. It was slanted in its shaft, ridiculously so, and parts of it were on fire.

“Get that cleaned up.” He said.

“There it is...” Zach said and pointed with a rigid finger.

The hangar stood on a large hill a mile into the distance. To the right of it, about another few miles away the town of Reefwater was ablaze with sound and flames, which could be seen and heard even from a long distance.
As the hangar grew closer, Zeroed and Thorn began to wake Vulcan. Three men could be seen standing in front of the large hangar door, jumping and waving with both arms high in the air.

“Repeat... is anyone left up there?” The man who had been at the front of the soldiers after the elevator crash spoke into a large microphone, placed inside of a desk. Wulf and three other men stood around him, they were in the main control room for Base 17, where another fifteen or so Nationals were busy calculating their low chances of survival at a large array of complicated looking machines and large computers, most looked rusty and under-used. Lace had been taken to a medical centre somewhere in the base,

The man sighed, “Is anyone there?” he said again into the microphone. They’d managed to project his voice into all devices capable of playing sound within a 30 mile radius.

“Leave it for a while.” Wulf said, putting his hand on the man’s shoulder.

They all got up and walked into a room nearby, it had a set of seats, and they each took one.

“So... you two got names?” The anonymous man said.

“Yeah, they call me Wulf, and the other guy is Lace, and you?”

“John.” He said.

“...Nice.” Wulf smirked.

“So, John what are we going to do?” a man to the left asked.

“I don’t know. We can’t wait here forever; sooner or later they’ll find their way in.” John replied, taking his hand and putting it so that it supported his head.

“We better go speak with High-Command.” The guy on the left said, coughing afterwards, clearing his throat.

All the men then stood up, Wulf last. They started walking in single file through several rooms, the first was a steamy kind of kitchen. They seemed to be hurriedly making food. The walls and ceiling were a sickened green and on the floor were dirty-white tiles. The next room was a long corridor with the same kind of style; green walls, brown scratched floor. It had several iron doors lining its walls. At the end of the corridor was a large black vault-like door. John walked up to it and pressed a green button on some kind of radio attached to the wall nearby.

“Identify yourself.” The radio said, with slight interference.

“Sergeant Sharp, and a few of my squad.” John said whilst holding his finger on the button.

The radio made a loud buzz sound. John nodded and then twisted the cold black handle to open the huge steel door. Behind it there was another corridor, wider this time, and cleaner, even the doors in it looked shinier. They walked through a door two doors down from the end. The room they were now in had one wall made completely of glass, it was about twenty to thirty metres long, and it had a double door in the middle and at the other end. Through the glass, a massive hall could be seen; full of people. The huge din of sound slowed and stopped when the soldier walked through the glass corridor.

“What is this!?” Wulf said, startled.

“This is Sector 3 of Base 17, one of five sections of the base designed to house civilians in a time of crisis.” John replied, as they walked on.

“Wow.” Wulf stuttered. The people were all watching them walk through the glass; any soldier they saw now was probably just a sign of hope. When Wulf, John and the others reached the end of the room, and through the door; the sounds picked up again and the hall was full of speech.

Through the doors, another vault-like door was seen. Exactly the same as the first except this one was silver. John did the same procedure, pressing the button speaking to a woman on the other end, identifying himself, this one took longer and had more questions. After a minute or two, John received permission to open the door, and as the buzz sound came; he did so. Through this door was, what looked like, a cage. John and the other got in it, through a large opening in the front. Wulf hesitated, to John’s amusement.

“It’s another elevator.” John said, smiling. Then remembering his situation, and remembering Reefwater, his smile faded.

“Right.” Wulf said, stepping in.

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31-03-2010, 08:40 PM | Post: #6
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Part Six

Chapter 16: Airbourne

“Alright, here is what is going to happen.” Matrix said, he stood in front of two large boards, one with a map of Reefwater and its surroundings on it, the other with a plan of their vehicle. The entire Delta Squad and their friends, who had fetched Vulcan, all sat on dark wooden chairs placed about a metre and a half away from the boards. This set-up was in front of the large vehicle that they were going to use. Another figure stood leaning against the wall to the right of Matrix and his boards; his face was shrouded in shadow.

“Vulcan will fly, obviously.” Matrix pointed to Vulcan with the metre ruler he held. Vulcan waved sarcastically, his heavily casted leg propped up on another chair in front of him.

“Why obviously?” Thorn covered his mouth as soon as he said this, it had slipped out.

“... Obviously because he’s the only one who knows how, you didn’t think I’d send you to get him because he likes to fly it... did you?” The rest of the Squad and the people in the room sniggered, Thorn went red in the cheeks, and Matrix slammed his ruler down on the board whilst shouting

“Vulcan will fly, Thorn and Metroid will be on the forward turrets, Zach, you’ll be in charge of dropping our payloads, try not to destroy anything that looks expensive... and Zeroed, you’ll be controlling the onboard grenade launcher.” Matrix said, pointing to each position on the plan, and taking a large breath afterwards.

Zeroed nudged Zach and when Zach looked to him, he raised his eyebrows quickly a couple of times. Zach just shoved him and beckoned him to be quiet.

“What about me?” Wanderer asked, raising his hand and lowering when Matrix looked directly at him.

“Who are you?” Matrix walked over to him, eyeing him up.

“We’ve met before, y’know, in the hospital, they call me... ummm... Wanderer.” He spoke quickly, raising himself slightly out of his chair.

“Didn’t I give you that?” Matrix was looking at Wanderers half-mask.

“Yeah, with a note.” Wanderer relaxed again, slouching back into his chair.

“Very well, help Vulcan, be his co-pilot. He’ll tell you what to do.” Matrix returned to his boards.

“Aye sir.” Wanderer said, provoking a strange look from Ranger, because he always liked saying that.

“The Delta Squad, will be occupying grenade launchers 3, 4 and 6. Zeroed you get the fifth grenade launcher because it is centred, works the best, and we won’t be on them for long. Delta will also operate the two MG’s that are in the hanging basket below, don’t worry guys, the basket is made of solid steel. Anyway, On my signal, All Delta’s will meet in the cargo-hold, where Zach will be dropping bombs, we jump on my signal. Any questions?”

After a few seconds of silence, Matrix continued...

“... We’re expecting there to be minimal National resistance left, the town will be mostly or completely Royal. This does not mean we can destroy anything we want, our objective is to capture, not to obliterate. It’s going to be hard boys, good luck.” Matrix walked over to the man who was leaning in the shadow.

“This is Mr. Kirilenko, he’s Delta’s personal outside-engineer. Kirilenko, would you like to show these boys what you’ve brought for us today?” Matrix nodded to Kirilenko, and he nodded back. As he stepped out of the shadow, his features were revealed, silvery hair, slightly wrinkled face. He had quite a large nose and wore dark goggles over his eyes; his lips were thin and cracked, he was probably around his late fifties. He slowly walked in front of the boards as Matrix stepped back. In his hands were two very large metal suitcases. Ten seconds standing in front of the group, then he dropped the cases on the floor. They made dust spout into the air, and the sound of them hitting the ground echoed through the walls of the hangar.

“Greetings.” He spoke softly.

Kirilenko knelt down, unclipping and opening one case, then turning unclipping and opening the other. From the first case, he pulled up a camouflaged body-suit, it was light grey, with a few blue patches. It was all one piece that covered the legs and the torso, it also had a hood.

“This is the Krafty Mark III camo-suit, its camouflage is the most efficient of its kind and makes it much harder for you to be detected, from distances of over two-hundred metres, with the naked-eye. It’s one of those things that can just give a little edge over your enemies in battle.”

He laid the suit on the ground in front of him, then turned to the case again. This time he drew out several pieces of dark grey clothing. The first was a vest, then some wrist and elbow protectors, shin and knee guards, upper-leg and groin guards.

“This is Krafty Mark III advanced combat armour: It fits over the camo-suit perfectly, and is specially made to produce almost no restriction to normal movements or speed while wearing the armour. Its light, its flexible and most importantly; it can stop medium-arms fire from a range of twenty metres.”

Now he turned to the second case, searching in the case for a few moments, he pulled out a mask and a pair of gloves and boots.

“Krafty Mark III comfort kit, fingerless gloves, fit-all balaclava and I’ve had these boots made to fit your feet size. Basically they’re just providing another small advantage in the fact that they’re comfortable, and won’t be a nuisance during a fire-fight, the gloves are fingerless they’re skin tight and they’re thermal. The boots have specially designed grips on the sole; they’re particularly good on ice. The balaclava... is... just a balaclava.”

He knelt down once more, this time he drew out a helmet with attached goggles and a very modern looking knife. He also brought a shoulder-waist belt, with equipment on it, out.

“The helmet and knife are Krafty Mark III Helm, and Krafty Mark IV Straightblade. The helmet is incredibly strong, don’t ask me why, it just is. In our tests, it has been found to be capable of stopping sniper shots from a distance of five hundred metres, any firearm closer than thirty metres is its danger zone though. The goggles are toughened. They’ve got night-vision mode, along with several other situation modes, including snowstorm and hurricane. The helmet has a built in headset that allow the wearer to speak with anyone wearing one that’s set to the correct frequency. The knife is an alloy using aluminium and titanium, with a small amount of steel and chromium; making it very light and strong. The utility belt has all your standard stuff on it, grenades, extra ammo, but it also has a radio with a range of 2000 miles.”

As Kirilenko laid out the equipment together on the floor, Flash raised his hand.

“Guns?” He said, as soon as Kirilenko looked at him.

“Just getting to that, dear boy.” Kirilenko said, mockingly.

When he had done laying the equipment out, he reached into the bottom of the second case. He slowly brought out four different guns.

“These are my babies.” Kirilenko continued, almost stroking the guns.

“The PKM,” Kirilenko held up the largest gun.

“A light machinegun with an un-paralleled fire-rate, along with good accuracy and a fair reload time.” He set it down.

“This is the SVD, we made it specifically for you Ranger. Everythings normal about it, except that it requires no adjusting for the shot, and it is incredibly accurate.”

“And this is the AK74u, probably the best assault rifle out there right now. Accurate, fast, deadly.

“The pistol you’ll all use as your backup is my personal favourite, a KZ8, my own design. It’s got an attached flashlight and laser-pointer, effective up to sixty metres.” Kirilenko span the pistol around his forefinger then set it down.

“Thankyou for shopping with Krafty express, please come again.” Kirilenko nodded, walked, then took a seat at the back of the briefing area.

“Zach, Kirilenko will be helping you dish-out bombs, just because we’re short on men.” Matrix said, returning to the front of the briefing and winking at Kirilenko. Matrix then nodded at Hawk.

“Alright Delta’s and friends, let’s lock ‘n’ load, and rock ‘n’ roll!” Hawk shouted this and as the echo ran through the hangar, the men burst into movement, each selecting their preferred weapons and collecting their clothing.

The shovel contacted the steel with a loud striking sound, which rang and hung in the air for a moment.
“Sir! I think we’ve got it!” A long, greasy haired man shouted over his shoulder, calling to the Major.
The Major walked quickly, stumbling on some debris on his way.

“Chief, get over here. Get your squad clearing this area.” The Major said.
“On it Sir! Squadron, over here, get this cleared.” Chief gestured to the floor where they had found the shaft, hopefully leading into the base.

A few minutes later, the last of the rubble was thrown away. Now in-front of the few Royals lay a large square metal surface, about five metres wide. They tried to prise it open with shovels, but it was far too-well sealed.

“Chief?” The Major turned to him.

“Sir?” Chief turned to him.
“Call in a tank.” Chuckled The Major.

The feeling of the Zeppelin taking off felt like being weightless for a few moments. And then everything settled down inside Jagger’s stomach again as he walked over beside Zach.

“Good luck, Zach.” Jagger slouched his back onto the wall beside him.

“And yourself,” Zach replied, looking out of the small slit in the steel frame of the Air-ship.

“I just hope... I hope things go-” Jagger was interrupted by a very loud buzzing sound. It came from the speakers aboard the vessel. Jagger’s eyes brightened in realisation, a radio transmission!

Jagger and Zach both ran through the three Iron sectioned-rooms into the cockpit, where Vulcan sat on a comfortable looking leather-seat, and all the other men stood. The room was packed full, but everyone had just enough room to stand. The voice on the radio slowly came into focus:

“Is anyone left up there?” It said.

“Jagger, get on the radio.” Matrix’s eyes searched the room for Jagger, until he found him and beckoned him over. The other soldiers made a path to the radio by shuffling in either direction.

“Hello?” Jagger’s voice shook as he pressed the button for speak on the microphone.

The reply came back as, what sounded like; a room full of people all shouting “Hello!” At the same time.

“Hello? We are the survivors of the Reefwater attack, we need assistance! We’re trapped in Base 17, underground! Identify yourselves? Who are you?” A man on the other end desperately shouted.

“We’re Delta Squad, the 23rd Squadron of ex-Phoenix division.” Jagger’s words fell calmly out of his mouth.

“Ex-Phoenix? Are you for real?” The man on the other end spoke slower, and calmer.

In Base 17

Time seemed to freeze before the 23rd Squadron speaker said his next word.


The room in which National High-command, Wulf, John and his squad sat burst into the sound of confused chatter and gasps. After a few seconds, the small man sat at the head of the table stood.

“Enough!” He shouted. His voice reverberated through the room, echoing off of the old dull green walls.
He banged his fists on the iron table in the middle of all of them as-well, and walked over to the radio receiver, which John held. John quickly offered it to him, and he took it briskly.

“Matrix, are you there?” The Commander’s voice was that of an experienced, war-bitten veteran.

Indistinct sounds were made, as the microphone was presumably passed over.

“Yes, Commander?” A new voice spoke over the radio. The Commander instantly recognized it as Matrix.

“How far away are you?” The Commander said, resting his hand against the wall-mounted-radio-box.

“Only about eight clicks East, ETA two minutes.” Matrix said.

Wulf specifically noticed the Commander’s brow dropped, the corners of his mouth twitch slightly and his shoulders slouch. Within a few seconds he regained his posture. And carried on:

“How many men do you have?”

“Enough.” Was the short and somewhat cold reply.

“How many is enough?”

“Between ten and twenty.”

This time the Commander’s mouth quivered into a small smirk, he quickly wiped it away with seriousness.

“What is your transport?” The Commander turned around and rested his back on the radio-box. Giving his arm a deserved break.

“Air-ship, Zeppelin, basically a big bad-ass steel balloon, and it’s 1 minute and 37 seconds away from starting to save you all.” Matrix said, and then a loud sound came in through the radio, which was probably the squad cheering.

“Matrix Out.” Was the last thing received, before the familiar beeping sound of the transmission ending, and a whole lot of white-noise.

The Commander, a few moments after the end of transmission simply stated:

“Excuse me,” as he walked straight out of the door, down the intersecting corridor, and into the elevator that lead to the civilian level of Base 17.

When the elevator began to rise, The Commander flipped out a small portable radio from his pocket. He threw it in the air and caught it again, in a sign of confidence. He turned it on, and didn’t need to tune which frequency he wanted, because he’d done that before the meeting.

“Major?” He spoke closely into the radio.

“What is it, Colonel?” A ruffled voice spoke back after a few seconds of waiting.

“How far into the base are you?”

“We’re at the front door, it’s weak enough to be blown off with a few barrels of TNT now.”

“Good, but we have a problem. There is an enemy squadron moving in from the east, they’ll be here in less than a minute, they’re in some kind of Air-ship.”

“Just one squadron? I have over one-thousand men just sitting lazily in guard-towers and over-run bunkers, some are even eating lunch in their tanks. It will be no problem, I’ll set my men on the East-bound Anti-Aircraft guns at once.” The Major’s voice got louder and clearer as he spoke, as if his confidence grew as he realised that the odds were very much against his enemy.

“Roger.” Replied The Commander.
“Sir? Listen closely.” The Major’s voice had returned to its original ruffled state.


The Commander then heard, what sounded like a lot of metal crashing together. He immediately knew it was the explosion of the elevator shaft-door: Which meant the Royals had breached, and in a few seconds, Nationals would start being killed.

“Remember, I am going to be wearing the Blue Head-band, don’t shoot me.” The Commander said as he tied a navy-blue headband around his sweaty fore-head.
He had betrayed his country, his homeland. All because he was scared, he knew the War was a lost cause. He knew it’d be over soon, and the National Island would be annihilated by the new Royal ‘V2’ weapon, and other horrors from their new chemical weapon scheme such as the gas that turned people on each other. He’d ordered one of these gas-attacks on a nearby military-hospital. Because the Royal Commander made him do it, just to test his allegiance: As if he hadn’t already, when he ordered the destruction of Lotterick with a V2 Vengeance missile. And once Reefwater was captured, that left the whole coast undefended. The island would be in range once they built missile silos there.

The Commander was broken out of his thought-bed by the sound of the elevator doors hissing open, and the sound of The Major’s reply on the radio;

“We’ll try.”

Chapter 17: Weapons Free

Chief broke into a coughing-fit, the dust was almost too much to bear. Every movement he made echoed, and there was a distant ringing sound from where he had failed to completely cover his ears from the explosion. He was hanging in the ex-elevator shaft of Base 17’s entrance, attached to a make-shift harness, abseiling down the side of the wall. He wasn’t alone, three others had been sent down with him, two of his squad and a gunnery-sergeant, whose muscles were extremely big. When they reached the bottom, they unclipped their harnesses and in-front of them there was another blown-through doorway, still smoking. The sight that greeted them as they walked through, guns firmly planted into their shoulder and aimed straight ahead, was not a pretty one. Blood smeared across the walls of the entry corridor. Even the gunnery-sergeant ripped a piece of cloth from his sleeveless shirt and used it to cover his mouth. Chief just decided to try to breathe through his mouth. The smell was disgusting, he’d smelled it before. The smell of death. As they turned the first corner, they could see the first corpse. It was a National Soldier, still clutching his blood-covered SMG. His eyes were distant, similar to the eyes of the next few sprawled bodies. The grey walls had been painted a new colour by the time they reached the third corner, and they found the first Royal body. He’d been shot straight through the head. His weapons had been taken, and his eyes were closed.

“Damn” the gunnery sergeant bluntly stated.

“Makes me angry, this guy had a mother and a father, and maybe a family.” One of the other members of the squad said.

“Yeah, I’d like to gut the National who did this.” The gunnery sergeant started to move past him.

“Looks like someone probably did.” The other squad member spoke, at the back.

There were eight National bodies at the end of the corridor, they’d been slaughtered. Chief was a little bit disgusted that his comrades hadn’t thought about the fact that these Nationals had families too. His foot hit something firm, and his weight slid out from underneath him. He toppled into the pile of bodies. His eyes met with another on the floor, they looked scared. But then he realised that they had looked scared, now they didn’t care. The Gunny helped him back up, muttering something about clumsiness, but was drowned out by the sound of echoing gun-fire coming down the corridor.

“Ah, we didn’t miss the fight.” The Gunny said, turning and sprinting down the last stretch of the corridor and into the first control room of Base 17. The scene there was no prettier, just fresher. The next room was where the most recent killings had taken place. A body on the other end of the room slowly slid down a wall with it’s back dragging a trail of blood behind it. It’s final breath was exhaled slowly. The thing that made Chief angriest was that it was a woman. He walked straight to the front of the group.

“Who shot that woman?” He questioned loudly in front of the group, slamming his gun onto the wall to prove his anger.

“I did...” A large man walked forward, flashing his shoulder to Chief, a shoulder which bore the mark of a lieutenant. He was obviously leading this squadron, and outranked Chief by far.

“Sorry Sir,” Chief’s tone changed quickly.

“Let’s move along.” The lieutenant shouted. The group jogged into the next room. Where they opened fire on a small resistance of three men, armed with pistols. Chief heard more foot-steps from the corridor they’d recently come out of. Another Royal Squadron, the plan was to send around one-hundred armed-to-the-teeth soldiers down here. Even if the Nationals had more men, their numbers wouldn’t count for anything in these tight corridors.

The group started down the next area, a wider room. At the end of it was a big vault-door. Two of the men from the Lieutenant’s squad planted TNT on the door, along with the Gunny, who readied his large bazooka, took twelve paces away from the door and told everyone to;
“Stand back.”

“Three, two, one!” The two TNT planting squad-members shouted. The Gunny opened fire, a rocket shot down the corridor and hit the door just as the TNT exploded. Throwing the door backwards, off of it’s hinges. This allowed the entire squadron to run through the hole in the wall. They entered a corridor, with six doors on the right-hand side. After a small discussion, they split into groups of 3. Chief went with one of the Lieutenant’s squad members and the Gunny; they took the door two-doors from the end. They entered it with guns first, slowly and in a slightly crouched stance. One foot carefully placed before the other. There was no threat here. It was a large corridor, but oddly one of it’s walls was made of glass. And seen through it, hundreds of people sat on a cold wooden floor, trying to hold in their fear. Children’s whimpers and cries were held in by their parents hands. The two groups stared at each other in shock for about twelve seconds, before the Gunny laughed. An evil laugh, a laugh that said; ‘Oh dear, you lose.’

The Gunny took his shotgun, and placed it against the glass. The shatter made Chief jump, his heart was racing. He was going to have to slaughter these innocent people. As the three stepped down into the large hall, people scrambled away as they approached them.

“No mercy.” The Lieutenant’s man said.

“Agreed.” Muttered the Gunny.

Chief said nothing in reply, but his eyes began to water up. He quickly blinked the liquid away. The Gunny’s double-barrel-shotgun touched a few civilian heads, as he walked, but he didn’t pull the trigger. After a minute of wading through the crowd of civilians, the Gunny halted, motioning that the others should do the same. One thought ran through Chief’s head. ‘Please no.’ The Gunny’s hands brought his shotgun level with a small child’s head. A woman who was only a few yards away screamed and began to sob, she tried to lash out, but the other man walked over and drew his pistol. Pressing it against her temple. Tears streamed down her face, and Chief’s heart sunk. This is where he had to make his big decision. The other two men stood only a few feet away from each other.

“You’re going to kill innocents?” Chief blurted out.

“Heh, I always knew you were weak for this stuff. Yes, we are going to kill innocents. They belong to our enemy, so they die.” The Gunny spoke without looking at Chief.

Chief’s face was distraught, he shut his eyes. Trying to block out the sound with happy thoughts. There was no way out of this. He apologised, in his head, to his dead parents. Then as the two guns went off, he managed to open his eyes.

“There has been a slight change of plan.” Matrix stated to the gathered squadron.

Hawk spoke;

“We’re going to remain above the clouds until Matrix gives the signal, we want the surviving Royals to remember this day. So Matrix is going to make the first appearance.”

“I’ll talk to them, get them wondering. Get them over-confident, gain their concentration and maybe they’ll group together a little. So that our first strike makes a big dent.” Matrix continued.

“Then, when the ground is cleared, Delta drops in with Matrix, and the others remain on-board the zeppelin to provide air-support and an eye-in-the-sky.” Hawk looked at Matrix while speaking, who nodded.

“Delta will then work their way through the village area to the lighthouse, where we will enter Base 17 and clear it out. Hopefully; saving the day. Understood?” Matrix finished off their duet of tactical planning with a salute.

“Sir, yes Sir!” Came the ground-shaking reply.

Five minutes later, and Matrix was with Zach in the cargo-bay. He was kitted up for a HALO jump. And Zach was just helping him to tighten his parachute straps. Vector and Ranger had decided to join them, giving Matrix a small pep-talk.

“Make it epic, Sir.” Ranger nudged Vector.

“Yeah, make sure they remember the name Delta.”

“I’ll try boys, now get to your posts.” Matrix said as Zach finished tightening the straps, and he turned towards the now opening bay-door. Vector and Ranger quickly left the scene.

“Good luck, sir!” Zach shouted over the now-dominant wind that came from the opening.

“Thanks, I’ll see you at the end of the battle!” Matrix shouted back. He ran towards the door, his red-tinted goggles protecting his eyes from the wind. He jumped out, arms spread like an eagle. Then gravity took him and he began to fall, his hair splaying everywhere, and his clothing filling with wind and giving a bounce-type effect. As he came through the cloud-belt, he could see Reefwater and he aimed himself for the road towards the village. As he approached the ground, he reached for his parachute pull, pulled it. After a few seconds a violent jerk sent a shock through his body, and as it faded away, his feet touched the ground.

He cut the parachute’s cords away with his knife, then pulled out a mega-phone from his belt.

“Greetings Reefwater!” He bellowed. All the nearby Royals turned his way, tank turrets aimed at him. MG emplacements aimed at him. He definitely had their attention. More Royals flooded into the nearby area, keen to hear what this ‘messenger’ had to say.

“So, I can see that you’ve managed to take this place by force. Well done.” Matrix clapped slowly. The Royals cheered, this guy couldn’t be serious.

“But, now that you’ve taken the last National outpost. There is a Protocol that is to be used only as a last-resort. It involves your slaughter.” Matrix smiled at them all.

“Would anyone like to guess the name of the Protocol?” He asked.

When the Royals gave no reply but a short moment of confused mutters, Matrix continued.

“Together it’s killed over ten-thousand Royals. It’s saved thousands of innocent lives, and taken only those that are necessary. It’s never failed a mission. And it’s never afraid. Most importantly, it’s invincible.” The Royals just laughed, this guy was so full of it.

“No guesses?” Matrix smirked.

“No?” His heart pounded faster.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to destroy you.” He drew his pistol, and unclipped an unseen object from behind him.

“Oh yeah!?” A young Royal shouted, walking to the front of the now large Royal army.

“You and what army!?” He laughed, and the other Royals joined in.

“Well...” Matrix threw a red canister high into the air. He shot it with the pistol at its highest point. It exploded into a large ball of fire, and made an extremely loud sound. The sort that could be heard in the heavens.

The Royals sniggered, was that supposed to hurt?

“I think... I think you missed.” The young Royal said, doing a strange mocking dance.

Matrix coughed, “This army.” He continued.

As soon as he finished his short and abrupt sentence, a shadow spread across the entire Royal army. Whatever the object in the sky was it was partly-in-front of the sun, so that it couldn’t be focused upon. Slowly, it covered the sun, and the glare was reduced to nothing. On the large Air-ship in front of them, the Royals could now read... ‘Protocol Delta.’

“Oh,” the young Royal managed to stutter, before the Zeppelin opened fire and he was torn apart.

On-board the ship, Vulcan could see everything that was happening from the gun-cams. The grenades were doing the most damage, destroying everything they came into contact with. No exceptions. The machine guns were aiming specifically for those who escaped the grenade-barrage.

Ranger had decided to leave his post and go into the cargo-bay, where he sniped from his wide-view position.

Nothing escaped this punishment. No fire was returned because the Air-ship had aimed for the AA guns first. Hundreds of men were slaughtered in less than a minute, by a small team, with some big-guns. The little resistance that did come, was from Royals who had tried to shoot down the vessel with their hand-held weapons, which had no-effect on the thin steel armour.

All was fine, until a Royal tank managed to fire a shot towards the main hull. Every person aboard the ship thought the same thing at that moment, minus one. Ranger exhaled slowly, this shot counted. He fired, the recoil of his silenced rifle was soft, but the tension that followed was not. He’d had to calculate the wind at this altitude, the distance, the speed of the tank-shot and the speed of his bullet all in less than two seconds, then put them together and choose where to shoot. There was a two and a half second delay, and to his relief, the tank-shot exploded before it hit it’s target. Everyone on-board gasped with relief, and a million thank you messages came through Ranger’s radio.

“Alright Delta, get down here. We’re moving in.” Matrix’s voice came through the radio.

“On my way sir,” Ranger said. Along with all the other Deltas.”

Chief stumbled back through the last corridor, he stopped as the elevator-shaft stood in front of him. He remembered what he was doing and began to run again, straight at the ladder, then climbed like a frightened monkey. He’d betrayed his own nation. Killed five of his comrades. The Gunny and other man were both going to kill innocent civilians, he had no choice. And he had ran into three more Royals, who were posted to stop any escaping civilians. Instead they’d tried to stop him, so he had to kill them as-well.

At the end of the ladder, he was so tired. He’d not rested at-all since he’d began running. He flopped over the top of the shaft, and crawled slowly out. He was met by a hard steel object to his head. His vision blurred, and the pain shot through him. He tried to crawl away from the source, but he was hit again. He touched his hands to his head, blood covered his finger-tips. He lay his back to the floor. Looking up, seeing the Major’s angered face.

“I knew you were a coward.” He spat in Chief’s face. Chief could only mumble meaningless words back.

“And cowards must die.” He kicked chief in the ribs, and punched him in the gut.

Blood ran down Chief’s chin and nose. His head hurt so much right now, to be honest, he wouldn’t mind if he died. The Major pulled out a revolver from his holster, cocking it back. It was pressed hard against Chief’s bleeding head.

“Goodbye, coward.” The Major said, and in return Chief kicked him hard in his ‘man-area.’

He dropped the revolver, and fell to his knees.

“You play dirty, I play dirtier.” Chief murmured at him.

Sitting up, he grabbed the loaded revolver. He slowly managed to bring himself to his feet. When he did stand, he was punched in the face, by the now standing Major. He just ignored the pain and aimed the revolver at The Major’s ugly face. But he was quick, he ducked and he tackled Chief, just as the revolver went off. Chief hit the floor and his vision was sent into that all too familiar blur. The Major stood over him, and placed his foot on Chief’s head, trying to crush his skull. Chief struggled but his neck hurt if he tried to move. He tried to grab for the revolver, before realising it had fallen down the elevator-shaft. Then he saw a sharp metal shard within reaching distance, his head was pounding. And he could hear his skull starting to crack. He lunged for it, grasping it with his two longest fingers. He managed to slide it into his palm where it cut him slightly, but that was nothing compared to what his enemy felt when he slammed it into The Major’s calf-muscle. The Major cried in pain and stumbled back, hopping. He started trying to pull the shard out of his leg, but before he could: Chief charged him, knocking him backwards into the elevator-shaft. The Major hung onto the top of the ladder, his fingers were covered in blood and sweat. Chief’s eyes were merciless. He stamped on his hands, until The Major was forced to let go.

Chief watched as the man he once so respected, fell to his doom. He turned around, there was a grappling hook attached to the top of the cliff the lighthouse once stood on, he peered over the edge. It appeared to be a viable way down. He took of his jacket and twisted it round, then placed it over the grappling hook line. He then zip-lined down to the beach below. Chief’s body was in such massive pain, he thought he’d pass out at any moment. But he forced himself to crawl into the first engine boat he could see. It was a small four-man infantry carrier, with an engine that had just enough fuel to get this place out of sight. That’s all he wanted. To get away. He started the engine, and set course for away from the beach. Then he slowly passed out, his final thoughts being:

‘I am a deserter.’

‘I am a coward.’

‘I am a traitor.’

Chapter 18: Movin' Up

“Counting Six Romeo, Sir!” Striker shouted over the gunfire,

“Roger that, blow us a hole.” Hawk directed Striker, as he tossed him a grenade.

“Understood!” Striker threw the grenade. It bounced 3 times, and landed directly next to one of the Royals who had holed themselves up in a sandbag bunker. The explosion threw the sandbags in all directions, and allowed the Delta Squad to move up the street.

The Squad was split into three fireteams; Striker, Hawk and Flash, Were pushing up through the street, the head of the spear, as it were. Matrix, Blitz, Doctor and Jagger were supporting them, moving from rooftop to rooftop. Vector, Ranger and Scorch were staying behind the first fireteam, providing Long Range support, and clearing up any ‘unfinished business’ that the first fireteam left behind on their speedy advance.

“Matrix, we’re pinned down.” Hawks voice came over the radio, along with the sound of bullets hitting wood.

“Second.” Matrix said. He signalled for his fireteam to move up, they stumbled over roof-tiles and when a large gap appeared, they leaped it one at a time. Doctor action rolled onto the next roof, while Matrix and Blitz just took the pain. Jagger’s jump was awkward, and he landed on his stomach. Doctor leant him a hand, and as he got to his feet he brushed the dust off of his stomach. The roof they now stood on was flat and had a small stone fence around it. There was an MG emplacement facing where the lighthouse once stood, about two hundred metres forth.

“Blitz, get on the gun. Everyone go prone.” Matrix nudged Blitz, who then crawled there. The fireteam went prone, to minimize the possibility of incoming sniper fire. Doctor took his SMG and placed it on the edge of the stone fencing, crouching and taking a scope from his belt, clipping it on to the gun. Jagger and Matrix shuffled up next to him, a pair of binoculars in hand. Jagger just sat down, he felt like a hindrance. Matrix took a look through his binoculars, Hawk and his fireteam were all clearly visible taking cover. Hawk was behind some crates on the left side of the street, Striker and Flash were in a stone and wood market stall on the other side. Flash had popped his head up for a look, and had received a warm welcome of dust and specks of wood in his eyes as bullets slammed into the surrounding wooden frame. He quickly withdrew his eyes from view.
Matrix took a small object from his backpack, whilst one hand still held the binoculars he peered through. His vision moved left from where the market stall stood, to a bunker of sandbags. Three or four men dressed in khaki green uniforms were using pistols and an MG turret to give Hawks fireteam enough reason to hide. Matrix lowered the binoculars, and raised the other object to his eye. It had a scope on top of it. He pressed a button on the front, and it made a repeated beeping sound

“What is tha-”

“Second Blitz, you getting this Vulcan?”

“Roger, target marked.” The fuzzy reply came over the radio.

“Tell crew they’re Weapons Free on that target. Make it burn.” Matrix finished with the strange item and put it away.

“Doctor, Blitz, Start firing on my mark.” Matrix held his hand in the air, it had three fingers up. Then two, then one.


Blitz and Doctor squeezed their trigger fingers in unison, Doctor the one on the machinegun in the left shoulder and Blitz didn’t try to aim, he just pointed the muzzle in the enemies general direction. Jagger instinctively covered his ears with his hands. About three seconds into their firing barrage, the bunker was lit up in fire and dust. A shadow moved over the street and everyone knew what would be there if they looked up.

Ranger, Vector and Scorch watched from behind.

“Well then.” Ranger said.

Vector radioed into Matrix, “Well, just don’t ask us then.”

Scorch laughed childishly, he aimed his bazooka in the air and fired. It landed directly where the bunker once stood.

“My contribution.”

Chief was rudely awakened to a sharp buzzing sound. His boats engine had cut out, and he was at peace among the gently rocking waves, and the calm sound of their splash against the side of his vessel. The buzz sounded again, and Chief remembered where he’d just come from. War. He rolled from his current laying position, to a crouch. He had been lying on his comm.-radio. He picked it up and looked at it. After a few seconds, the same message came through that had made the buzzing sound.

‘All Personnel at Reefwater are advised to evacuate immediately. Ten mile distance is required for survival certainty. Repeat, All Personnel evacuate Reefwater immediately. Offense Protocol Zero-Two-Niner has been activated.’

Chief looked up to the sky, the clouds covered the sun, lightning had started while he slept. Rain started to come down heavier than before, when the battle had started. Chief crawled to the other end of his boat. He squinted, he could faintly see the outline of land. In the centre, the land had a glow. The fires of the town, he assumed. Slowly but surely, the land faded from Chief’s view. Chief’s thoughts drifted back to Protocol Zero-Two-Nine. That was the solution. Really? Royal High-Command were now full of warmongering thugs, in Chief’s honest opinion. That Protocol is quite simply total annihilation of the target. Reefwater would become exactly that. Reef water. Lost to the sea for eternity. Obviously with their vast army, the Royals had still managed to be beaten. Unorganized and unintelligent. High-Command focused on the numbers, not on the skill. Half of the pigs probably didn’t realise they’d been attacked. Chief would cross the waters, and reach the National homeland. He’d try to defect. If the Nationals thought he was a spy, he’d prove his loyalty. He’d kill Royals, cut off their heads. Whatever. He just wanted a place where he could trust people. If they killed him on sight, so be it. Chief didn’t know if that would be better, but at least that way he didn’t have to think anymore. Thinking hurt.

Protocol-Two-Nine. Thermo-nuclear eradication. What horse awesome.

“How are things going up there, Zero?” John asked.

The reply didn’t come for about half a minute.

“We’re almost in the base. Just a little more of a push. No casualties to my squadron so far. We’ll be seeing you in a minute.” Delta Zero spoke.

“You might want to hurry it up. We’ve got nowhere to run and there are hundreds of men rushing through Base 17 corridors. And they’re trying to break into the High Command Centre. The civilians in Sector One are all dead. We managed to get Two and Three in the emergency rooms. But there’s a little over-run, and we’ve packed this room full of those who were left. It’s getting hard to breathe in here. We probably only have a few minutes left. Just get your ass down here. Fast.”

John took his hand off of the ‘speak’ button and took a deep breath. Wulf looked at him.

“All good?” He said.

“Mmhmm.” Was John’s simply reply.

“Then I’ll go check on Lace.” Wulf started to walk off.

“Wulf.” John put his hand on Wulf’s shoulder.

Wulf looked at him questioningly.

“In-case they break in and kill us before I get the chance to catch you again. It’s been an honour.” John offered Wulf his hand.

Wulf took it, and interlocked his fingers with John’s. He then brought his shoulder into contact with John’s and when their shoulders made contact he put his other hand on John’s back. John did the same.

“An honour indeed.”

And with that Wulf left. Forcing his way through the massive crowd of people.

The Medical Room had been evacuated and two of the radio rooms had been converted into make-shift hospitals. (Since the need for radios were useless anyway, the only form of backup that was coming was Delta).

Wulf made his way through the civilians, the women and children cried and clung onto his clothing, saying things like:

‘Save us,’

‘Make it stop.’


This made it hard for Wulf to move easily. But he kept pushing on. Anyone in a Soldier’s uniform received this treatment, in a time of war and crisis people look up to soldiers like gods.

Wulf turned a corner and in front of him was the room in which Lace was resting.

He attempted to walk through the door, but was stopped by a nurse who exclaimed;

“No sir, you can’t go in there.”

Wulf smiled at her and said, “I think you’ll find I can.”

He simply walked straight through. When the woman dived back in front of him and shouted for help, it was too late.

Wulf had already seen it.

This wasn’t a medical room.

It was a graveyard.

Bodies lay strewn on the floor, pale and cold. Wulf felt sick. He’d seen bodies before, but these were different. They stank. In the battlefield, everything stank. But here, the bodies had a distinct smell. Wulf hurled onto the floor. Dropping to his knees whilst doing so, he then rolled onto his back.

“Uhhh...” Was all he could manage. A minute later he rolled onto his front, to bring himself back onto his feet. When he recognized the body in front of him. He crawled to it’s side, and it was definitely him.


“No... no.” Wulf stuttered.

Wulf couldn’t speak. He’d actually thought he’d made a friend who, when the war was over, he’d go for drinks with at the local pub. Remember the war days. Stories and jokes. Laughs and tears.

Forget it. Goodbye Lace.

‘We’re all going to hell anyway.’ He said as he left to get back to John.

“Matrix, This is Vulcan. We have multiple bogeys airborne, we’re going down!” Vulcan screamed over the siren in the Airship. All personnel on-board had retreated to the pilots room. The Zeppelin was on its last legs and numerous fires had started in the engine rooms. There were at least seven Royal planes that had come as air-support, and because the big thing in the air was what was destroying the majority of ground forces, it was the target. The zeppelin lurched, and Zach and Zeroed stumbled and fell over. They helped each other back up.

“Matrix, permission to abort.” Vulcan slowly said over the radio, then repeated himself after a few seconds of no reply.

“Damn-it Matrix!” Vulcan took his finger off of the talk button,

“Screw him, we’re going.” Vulcan said and walked out of the room, the others followed him and tried to stay standing as another lurch almost knocked them off of their feet. They grabbed parachutes from the hooks on the side of the steel walls, and prepared for the jump.

“Okay, while Matrix is away I’m in charge. We jump in this order: Zeroed, Zach, Wanderer, Thorn, Met, Me. Got it?”

They all nodded and approved. They shuffled closer to the edge of the cargo-bay, the opening was large and the wind from it was starting to pull them out.

Vulcan began... “Three, Two, One. JU-” The Zeppelin exploded in a ball of flame. The Royal pilots had made another past, and several bullets had pierced the thin steel and hit the engines and fuel tank. As the debris fell from the sky, so did six limp bodies.

“Throw your smokes and move up!” Matrix shouted. Jagger, Blitz and Doctor threw their special forces grade smoke screening explosives, waiting a few seconds and then his team ran into a small alleyway across the street, bullets tore the ground up around them, Royals were blind-firing into the smoke but they made it without any actual hits. They’d come down from the roofs, as the entrance to Base 17 was less than one hundred metres away. Hawk’s team was waiting on the other side of the street, and Vector, Ranger and Scorch were all sprinting down the main street, catching up to the main force, covered by the smoke. At the end of the main street was a T-Junction, Hawk and Matrix were covered in an alleyway almost at the end of the middle road. There were three main groups of enemies left, about seven were taking cover in a make-shift bunker near the entrance to Base 17, four or so were hidden down the left road of the junction, using trees as cover. The last group was perhaps the toughest, five men in a bunker built of Sandbags, with a mounted turret and a mounted sniper rifle, at that range it’d take a second to acquire a target, a second to steady the shot and a half a second to pull the trigger. One man down in two and a half seconds. Matrix explained all of this to the squad when they’d all grouped up in the alleyway, he’d seen it all from the when he’d been on the last roof.

“Boys, you know the situation. We get into Base 17 no matter what. We’re the only thing left. We’re outnumbered in this situation, but not out-gunned. Prepare for an onslaught.”

“Ready for anything” said Hawk.

“We got your back.” Said Vector.

“Let’s move.” Said Jagger, Matrix looked at him. Right into his eyes, a piercing look, trying to reach into his very soul.

“You really are one of us Jagger.” Matrix closed his eyes, then directed Jagger with his head deeper into the Alleyway. Jagger obliged and walked there, Matrix was a few paces behind.

“You’ve been through a hell of a lot. And with only standard military training, you’re one hell of a soldier. And I’m sure that makes it through the fight in Base 17, you’ll be one of them.” He whispered, so that none of the other squad could hear, as they were all ‘lock and loading.’
Jagger managed a nod, as he was feeling rather inspired.

“Thank you sir.” He managed to stifle.

Delta finished loading up. Jagger was tossed an SMG and a knife.

The air went cold.

The wind grew still.

The rain fell lighter.

The thunder became quiet.

“Move, go go go!” Matrix bawled.

And with that, Delta charged.

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31-03-2010, 08:41 PM | Post: #7
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Part Seven - Finalé

Chapter 19: Rememberance

Wulf jumped at the sound of the explosion. The enemy were getting closer to the High Command room. Two more doors and they’d be at the elevator, descending upon Wulf and the other personnel inside the room. Some of them were women, some of them were young. Some of them were young, pretty, women. All of them besides Wulf and the other soldiers, were innocent and had never been trained with a firearm.
“Positions!” John shouted. Everybody scrambled to get cover whilst maintaining a clear field of vision on the door, and steadying their guns, aimed at it. Over-turned Desks, pieces of electrical equipment and some stored sandbags made up the majority of the cover.
Wulf was towards the front of the room, he had his PKM mounted on a steel desk and was peeking his eyes over the edge, ready to mince anything that came through the door. The sweat on his hands made it difficult to grip the handle of the gun, his finger was at risk of easily slipping and loosing off a few rounds at the door. Then the sound of the next explosion rattled his ears.

Jagger was still startled by the firefight, they’d managed to cross to the entrance to Base 17 without gaining any casualties, and were now rappelling one by one into the broken elevator shaft. Jagger’s turn came and he clipped on, and slid down. The rope burned his fingers through his tattered gloves, when he reached the bottom, Matrix was already leading the team through the blood-stained corridor, gun first.
“Check your corners.” He announced to the group.

The squad passed the first blown-in vault door, the room behind it smelled of blood, bodies littered the floor.

“Vector, Ranger, Hawk, Scorch” I want you all to check for survivors and escort them outside.” Matrix signalled for them to move back the way they’d come.
“On it” Hawk and Vector replied in unison. Ranger and Scorch were already moving.

“Doctor, Blitz you guys get our left flank, Striker, Flash you guys on our right. Jagger, take point, I got your six.”
Everyone re-arranged themselves before moving through the next door, Jagger’s SMG was pressed hard into his shoulder, and his finger was sweating on the trigger, slightly tensed, ready to loose a shot at the slightest sign of trouble.

They came to a long room that looked like it had been made of glass, due to the shards all over the floor. Beyond the shards were hundreds of lifeless civilians. The Royals had slaughtered them. A spark of anger rose inside of Jagger.

“Let’s pick up the pace!” He grunted. The Squad began to move quickly through the corridors, hearing an explosion as they went. They were getting close to the infiltrators.

One more door to breach. One more and they’d be here. John was trying to radio in to contact his back-up, but something had obviously happened to the Delta Squad’s radio, and they’d gone dark. The people inside High Command’s Centre had found all the weapons in the vicinity and given them to the civilian workers inside of the compound. Soldiers had parted with their side-arms and given them out. One woman was even harnessing a fire-extinguisher, everyone in the room know that she wouldn’t be able to last a second against an armed soldier, but it was the thought that counted. High Command themselves were positioned further back in the room, each wielding a standard issue pistol, and each shakily aiming it at the door. High Command were men of decision, not men of action. They told Soldiers what to do, they didn’t ever expect to be in the midst of the warzone. Wulf hadn’t seen The Commander in a while, he’d probably be hiding somewhere in the back. This was no place for men of such importance, but here they were, soaked in fear, seconds away from possible death.

The room was quiet. The whimpers muffled by each and every persons personal pride. Everyone in the room was waiting. Waiting for the next knock at the door, the knock that meant death for them.
And it came, deafeningly. The sound of the explosion was so loud that it left a quiet ring in their ears.

The woman holding the fire extinguisher was the first to die, the extinguisher was punctured, and since it was pressurized it exploded, throwing shards of aluminium into her face. She was not killed instantly, she took a few seconds to die.
High Command were not ready, three of them were shot in the head before they had a chance to duck behind their over-turned desks.
A man in the corner managed to get a good shot at one of the attackers with his pistol, but he was soon dispatched with an SMG barrage to the stomach, he was thrown into the wall behind him, and was dead before he hit the floor.
Some tried to run. They were shot in the back. The survivors of the initial onslaught were those who stood their ground. Wulf unleashed a hellish burst into the smoke of the oncoming invaders, killing three or four of the group standing at the front. It was no use though, their must’ve been thirty highly trained soldiers coming out of the elevator. Wulf dived behind the nearest cover, just as a bullet landed where he had previously been crouching, however, it still managed to catch him in the leg.

“Gah, damn it!” Wulf blurted in agony. He’d been shot before, but the bullet had fractured his bone, rendering his leg useless.
He used his arms to shuffle himself fully behind the cover, before leaning up against it and reaching for his pistol. Upon finding his holster empty, he remembered he’d given it to one of the civilians. His MG would be useless if any enemy tried to attack him if he was backed up against his cover like this, but if he tried to make room he’d expose himself and risk being shot. These thoughts were running through his head, when a dirty black boot stepped onto his newly broken leg.

Wulf roared in pain. A Royal stepped out in front of him. The Royal drew his revolver slowly. Wulf watched as the smoke cleared around him, and he saw the mindless slaughter that had taken place. They hadn’t stood a chance. Across the room, Wulf could make out the lifeless body of John, he still clutched his pistol. Then Wulf felt the cold steel against his head, bringing him back into caring for himself.

The Royal smiled. An Evil Smile. Wulf prepared himself, although there wasn’t much he could do other than shut his eyes.

And then the Royals head exploded.

The Delta Squad burst into the room, dispatching the entire enemy team in less than four seconds. Blood sprayed from every Royal head in the room, they had no time to react.

“We were too late.” Wulf faintly heard one of their voices, before his vision blurred and he fell out of consciousness.
Wulf woke up to a slow rocking motion, he hadn’t felt so calmed in a long time. He sat up and realised he was in a small boat, with no land in sight. He was at the gentle mercy of the sea. He lay back against the single wooden seat and took in the sea air. He had no idea where he was going, and no idea how he’d got here, but he thought he’d enjoy it none the less. A slight breeze swept over the boat.

“Wulf” a solitary voice whispered into his ear.

Wulf was startled, he looked around. He didn’t see anything of any significance.

“Wulf” the familiar voice whispered again.

“Hello?” He said aloud.

“It’s been an honour... “ The voice said again, with an inhuman hiss.

“We’ve got nowhere to run...” The voice grew more ominous.

“Save us!” Multiple spectres cried out in unison.

“Wulf...” The voice grew even more familiar.

“Wulf...” Was it...?

“Wulf...” Lace!

“WULF!” The voice roared.


Wulf was jolted awake, gasping for air, he tried to recollect himself and adjust to his surroundings. He was lying on sand, and a man was looking at him, shouting at him whilst shaking him.

“Wh-Yes, I’m awake!” Wulf stuttered to the man.

“Good, our ride is here.” The man pointed ahead.

The view that lay in front of them was awe-inspiring, Wulf had to push himself onto his feet, using a nearby crutch like object, his leg was still pounding. A Large National Warship, with the National Flag painted on its steel armoured side, sat on the waves about a mile out to sea. The newly risen sun poked through some of the now lighter rain clouds of the previous night, a light drizzle still remained, but this increased the scenes beauty, by giving the sea a strange texture. Multiple boats were streaming their way over the ocean in the direction of the beach. This could only mean one thing for Wulf.

He was going home.

Delta Squad were all sat up against some abandoned crates on the beach, about twenty metres away from where the main group of surviving Nationals were waiting for the rescue boats.

“Good job today.” Matrix said to the men. They all nodded in agreement.

“We saved four members of National High Command, and twenty-odd civilians, you’re all heroes.” He continued.

A feeling of depression had settled over the squad, they were all aching and bleeding and wanting to go home, but at the same time they all knew this was the end. Not one of them wanted to return to War after what they’d seen.

“Matrix...” Flash said. Matrix looked up and gave him a questioning look.

“We’re not coming back here, are we?”

“No. The mainland is lost. We’re going home.”

“But what about our families? The Royal army won’t stop here, they’ll come for our homeland.” Blitz pointed out.

“What can we do but fight?” Hawk replied to him.

“We’re soldiers, when the time comes, they’ll give us the tools and we’ll get the job done.” Matrix said, nodding with Hawk.

“But for now, Gentlemen. This is the end. Once we get back home, we’re to get on with our lives, Hawk, didn’t you say you wanted to open up a pie shop, you fat Royal pig?” Matrix laughed at him.

The rest of the squad followed suit.

“Matrix!” A voice came from a cobblestone nearby path onto the beach.

Their heads all turned to the direction in unison, their dirty, bloodied faces all being shadowed by their own bodies.

“Delta Squad, my Delta Squad!” A man wearing a blue headband ran towards them, and so did another.

“Wanderer? Commander?” Vector exclaimed.

“Sir!” Matrix saluted. The National Commander returned the salute, he only came up to Matrix’s shoulders, so it failed to deliver the same message.

“How did you survive?” Vector asked Wanderer.

“I fled Base 17 before the firefight began, sneaking through my personal escape route. I thought my own survival was necessary, I am the Commander of all National Forces, after all.” The Commander thought Vector had directed his question to him.

“And you, Wanderer?” Vector played along.

“All I can remember is pulling my parachute cord after the zeppelin exploded. Then The Commander found me in the rubble.” Wanderer took a while to speak, pondering his words.

“Indeed, indeed. But let’s save our catch up chat for later, Gentlemen. We need to get out of here. I intercepted a Royal radio signal that said this place is getting Nuked.”

Jagger was about to say something before the Squad all jumped to their feet,

“Let’s move, Soldiers!”

A few minutes later they were all sat on one of the rescue boats, being carted across the sea at high speed. Everyone was silent, just waiting to get to the boat and on their way. Home. Wanderer was constantly reaching into the pocket of his black coat, he probably had something in there that was making him feel less nervous.

When they reached the boat, The Commander was the first to step aboard, and he was welcomed by the Captain of the vessel. Captain Rory L June, served seventeen years in the Royal navy. He’d never seen men in such a state though. They had more blood on their skin than he’d seen in his years of service; the war mainly took place on land, so there was not much naval combat involved. He offered to show the men to their quarters, which were under-deck. He gave the Deltas a choice of singular rooms or one bunked up room. They went with the latter, as most of them agreed they wouldn’t benefit from single rooms anyway, it was roughly seven-hundred miles til’ they reached the mainland, and there was nothing to do to kill time, so they might as well talk and try to get some sleep.

Only a few hours into the journey, and most of the squad were incapacitated on their assigned bunks, still clutching the alcohol provided to them by the crew. Jagger was the only one who was too traumatized to drink, he couldn’t bring himself to relax. His mind was still too full of adrenaline.

They’d lost the offensive war, now they’d have to start playing defensive. The Royals weren’t going to wait to attack the homeland, they’d probably be ready and mobilized within a year. The worrying thoughts of the destruction of the entire National Race were suddenly over-ridden by a more natural feeling. Jagger needed to pee. He dragged himself out into a sitting position on his bunk, it creaked as he went, causing some stirs from his nearby squad mates. They soon settled again, allowing him to jump down, as his bunk was one on top of Ranger. He was dressed only in a dirty white vest and the trousers he’d worn for the battle, the ones given to the squad by Kirilenko. Kirilenko, Jagger wondered what had happened to that aging man. Probably captured by Royals, being used to make them even more advanced weapons. This world was so full of good people getting given bad luck. Jagger started thinking about any survivors of the battle at Reefwater, they’d have been nuked by now. They probably didn’t care. All these thoughts ran through Jagger’s head as he walked the long walk down the tight corridor of the ship’s hull, towards the nearest toilet. All these feelings were of less importance as the pee began to flow. The relief was surprising, it was more than just a natural need, it felt like he was getting rid of the badness he’d experienced. It was over for now. And like Matrix said, when the time came to fight, he would gladly take arms again.
Jagger washed his hands, drying them on his mucky trousers, he then stepped out of the toilet doorway, and noticed something fairly bad. He’d forgotten which direction he walked from, both ways looked exactly the same, and were both equally long, stretching the full length of the ship in total. He looked left, then looked right, then looked left again. He saw someone running down the corridor, in the opposite direction. He started to follow, in curiosity. He soon found himself running as well. He was about forty metres away from the man before he stopped running and starting climbing a ladder, back onto the main deck of the ship. This made Jagger instinctively dive into the nearest open door, and hide behind the wall before he was sure the man had stopped climbing. Jagger followed quickly, he climbed the ladder two rungs at a time, poking his head out of the exit hole just as he got to the top. It was extremely windy and Jagger’s hair was being blown completely off of his face.

Jagger’s heart skipped three beats as soon as he realised what was happening. A Khaki-green Chinook helicopter was extracting someone from the ship. That person was wearing a blue headband, that person was The Commander. The wind was blowing towards Jagger, so he could just hear what they were saying on the Helicopter.

“Let’s get out of here, Let’s go go go! Wanderer Blow the charges in fifty!” The Commander was shouting at the pilot on his radio whilst running to the helicopter, it started to pull off just as he climbed aboard.

As they started to pull away, Jagger climbed completely out of the ladder and whipped his pistol from his Kirilenko trousers. He started shooting at the helicopter, The Commander was laughing, this fool thought he could damage the helicopter. He lent out of the window and gave a victorious wave, this angered Jagger, he aimed for The Commander’s head, but the wind and the speed and pitch of the helicopter were all factors Jagger didn’t compensate for. After unloading a full magazine at his own Commander’s face, his shots didn’t reach their intended targets. One shot managed to hit Wanderer in the head, his body was knocked out of the helicopter and it dropped limply into the ocean below. Another lucky shot also hit the Commander in the waving hand, he drew it back into the helicopter with a high pitched squeal. The rest of the shots were reflected off of the armour of the helicopter and dropped from the air harmlessly.

“RAWWWHRRR!!!” Was all Jagger could manage, he threw his pistol at the helicopter, it fell about fifty metres short, as it was well and truly away now, heading back in the direction they had come from.

Then Jagger remembered something.

The Charges.

He slid down the ladder back into the hull, running back the way he’d originally come from, he had to warn the squad! The room where they slept came into sight, and Jagger’s hopes were raised.

The ship rocked as the first bomb blew. It was at the end of the long corridor, and then the second went, then the third, then the fourth. All in quick succession at measured intervals in every second room. He couldn’t just leave the men he’d gone through so much with behind, he ran towards the exploding rooms and into the one where the Deltas slept, they were all awake due to the violent rocking of the ship and the loud noises of fire tearing apart steel.

“We need to get out of here, NOW!” Jagger ran into the room, exclaiming his urgent news.

No words were needed, the Deltas all followed in quick succession. Matrix lead them in the right direction, they had to go further inwards into the hull and down into the under-hull hangar, that was where the boats were kept.
They rushed down the stairs as water began to spill into the ship, the red alarms dotted around the ship started going off along with the abandon ship alarms. Another long corridor lay ahead of them at the bottom, but it was sealed by several doors.

“Get those open!” Hawk bawled.

Blitz and Doctor all began trying to turn the vault-style wheel on the door, forcing it open. As it shuddered open, the ship took another large hit and it shook so hard that everyone except the two men holding on to the door were knocked to the floor. More water rushed in as Matrix gave the order to get through the door. Blitz and Doctor went through first, then Hawk and Matrix. Vector, Ranger, Flash, Striker and Scorch ran through in that order. But before Jagger could get through, another bomb went off completely filling the room with water, the water pressurised the door into closing, and the latch self sealed itself. Jagger was now completely underwater, he swam to the ceiling to get a gasp of air, before even the ceiling was underwater. He swam back to the door, and tried to open the latch. There was no friction on his hands, however, so trying to open it was useless. He saw Matrix’s face on the other side, he wasn’t underwater, but he was extremely wet. He was pointing behind Jagger, telling him to go back the other way. It must have only been a one way door. Jagger turned and started swimming back down the corridor to the stairs. When he reached them, he looked up. His vision was starting to blur heavily due to the water clogging his eyes, he felt tired. He needed to rest, maybe he could just go to sleep and he’d wake up and this would all be a dream. But he found the will to carry on, and he began to swim upwards until the stairs was no longer engulfed in water, he dragged himself onto the step, he took a few seconds to catch his breath before moving on. He ran back into the corridor in which he’d first seen The Commander. Parts of it were completely blown open to the sea, but the corridor was not underwater. It was slowly tilting into the water below; the ship had begun to sink, and it was getting closer and closer to going under. Another explosion rocked the ship even further, and as Jagger was peering out of one of the holes at the on-coming sea, it threw him out of the ships exterior. He managed to catch the ledge as he fell, but parts of rugged metal sliced his hand deep and he cried out in pain. He looked below. It was either drop and swim, or stay and die. He chose the latter, falling into the ocean below, he made himself as thin as possible so that the impact wouldn’t break any of his bones.

It still hurt. He entered the sea and plunged about five metres into it before the cold sea shocked his system and adrenaline surged through his veins. The salty taste of the sea made him gag. His eyes stung as he started to swim back to the surface. When his head was free of the water, he took a deep gasp and started swimming in what he knew was the opposite direction of the now sinking boat. As he came out from underneath the blown open hull, he realised it was raining heavily, and that a storm was ravaging the ocean to no-end.
But he had to keep swimming.

He swam until his arms were limp and lifeless, and his breath came in short fast wheezes. Then he stopped, and turned to face the ship, he tried to tread water but every so often a large wave would come along and knock him under. From what he could see, he was about three hundred metres away, and there was no sign of anyone else escaping. The ship was now at a fourty five degree angle in the water, and was sinking fast.

“There’s still a chance, there’s always a chance.” Jagger muttered to himself, whilst straining to remain above the cold, salty embrace of the ocean.

And then the Ship exploded. The entire ship went up in a ball of flame, as did Jagger’s chance of rescue, and the Squad’s chance of survival. Everyone would die out at sea, where no-one would know what happened.

Anger welled up inside Jagger, but it was helpless, he could do nothing.

He decided to lay back and try helplessly to float above the waves. The water kept jumping into his mouth and nostrils, his eyes began to grow heavy. The last thing he saw in his mind was Matrix’s face as it told him to go back through the small porthole window on the door that had sealed him and separated his fate from that of the squads.

At least they died together.

He would die alone.

Heroes save lives.
Heroes fight for justice.
Heroes know what’s right.
Heroes die together.
Heroes aren’t fearless.
Heroes don’t come home.
Heroes, will always be remembered.

Battlefield Heroes.
Delta Squad, RIP, October 3rd 2010.
Lock ‘n’ Load Delta

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31-03-2010, 08:43 PM | Post: #8
Awesome story Matrix, you can write really well! I hope much people will comment, like at your old post Big Grin
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31-03-2010, 08:51 PM | Post: #9
Big Grin I hope so too Smile

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31-03-2010, 09:02 PM | Post: #10
Wow gotta say this looks like one mighty fine story. Gonna read it completely when I've got more time.
Ever copied it in Word and checked how many pages you have? Must be lots.

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31-03-2010, 09:03 PM | Post: #11
Awesome*And the crowd is going wiild**Whistle,whistle**Clap,clap,clap**

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31-03-2010, 09:43 PM | Post: #12
Glad you got your Sig up Smile

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31-03-2010, 10:03 PM | Post: #13
(31-03-2010 09:02 PM)ArseenVinct Wrote:  Wow gotta say this looks like one mighty fine story. Gonna read it completely when I've got more time.
Ever copied it in Word and checked how many pages you have? Must be lots.

Matrix told me, that the story was around 21.000 words... Big Grin
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01-04-2010, 04:13 PM | Post: #14
Size 11 text:

40 Pages.

20,947 words.

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01-04-2010, 04:15 PM | Post: #15
Holy **** this thing is actually so long :/

Is this longer than every other war story? I would be interested to know.

If it is I wouldn't boast or anything, It'd just be nice to know Wink

+Its not done yet. I still expect to write another 2 or 3 chapters... I'll stretch as far as 6 more if I can be bothered but...

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04-04-2010, 09:05 AM | Post: #16
Am I bumping?...?...?

Yes I am! Big Grin
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05-04-2010, 07:03 PM | Post: #17
(04-04-2010 09:05 AM)crazylexes Wrote:  Am I bumping?...?...?

Yes I am! Big Grin

Reminds me of Metallica's Am I Evil? cover

El Bump!

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05-04-2010, 09:04 PM | Post: #18
Nicer every time I read it, Baron!

BTW, I have just finished DoW: Origins. Check out the final chapters, they're awesome!
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06-04-2010, 06:11 AM | Post: #19
ok, but I think you finished too early Big Grin I've been writing this since December 14th

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08-04-2010, 12:26 PM | Post: #20
I love this story and is it me or do the chapters get longer every time?
Plus like your new sig

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