Chapter Text
13th April 2015
A sunny cloudless day dawned upon Washington. The parade was in full swing with people cheering at the black car glistering in the sun containing the two important figures which have been the centre of attention for the past weeks. The colourful surroundings portrayed the false calamity that the people have been clinging on these last weeks.
The possibility for war has been rising and falling for years but has intensified in the last few months, after the Russians built a new type of nuclear warheads, but a faint light is finally shining upon the horizon for these people and they are clinging onto it with their dear lives. The two figures were waving at the people, false smiles plastered upon their faces trying to portray the image that everything now is now settled and that peace will and security will soon follow, but all knew it was far more complex than just a smile and a wave.
The car pulled up at the White House, ready to house the most followed entities at the moment. A heavily armoured security guard walked slowly towards the left door of the car, where the President of the United States Jerry Lockhart was sitting, showing the reality of the danger that that action conveyed, whilst another armoured guard moved towards the right door near the Russian President Dmitry Voronchev with the same caution.
The Leaders climbed up the stairs and moved towards the platforms to start their speeches leading to the signing of the decree. The US president went up the few steps leading to the platform and started his speech, hoping that nothing goes wrong as he knows that if a slight mishap happens, this would turn into the most gruesome war.
***
On a high building, 2 kilometres away from the signing parade, a man opened a briefcase and began assembling the several parts of the M107 LRSR .50Cal sniper rifle. After assembling the rifle, he stood prone behind it at the edge of the building letting its stock rest comfortably on his shoulder, gently brushing the cheek. Standing beside him, a small radio flickered as the US president’s speech could be heard amongst the applause of the present public as he stepped down to make space for the Russian President. He looked through the scope, and aimed lower at the president, waiting…
As the Russian president concluded his speech, the sniper finally taking a deep breath, aimed, held his shoulder steady to the stock and pulled the trigger, not missing his prey, a deadly bullet puncturing his skull. As he stood there admiring his work for the seconds that followed, screams and orders could be heard from the radio and chaos could be seen through the scope of his rifle. Satisfied, he quietly rested down the weapon and pulled out a small walkie-talkie, finding the frequency he issued a small statement
“Tsel’ Vypolnennaya [Target Executed]”
“Horosho Jason, Vernut'sya k shtab-kvartire [Good Jason, go back to HQ]”
Standing up he turned towards the roof door and walked slowly out, never glancing back, knowing deep within that this action will changed the world as we know it, driving the world into oblivion.
***
16 months Later
16 months from the fall of the Russian President, 16 months since his skull was punctured by a bullet, 16 months since the Russians vowed for revenge on the Americans, 16 months since the first missile was fired towards the US. After decades of fear, their nightmares started to take shape. A war, which is said to be more dangerous than what the Cold War was planned to be, was in full swing leaving destruction everywhere around the world. Several prominent countries ended up in ruins and more ended up in that state with each passing day.
The only hope to end this war was to capture the man who started it all, but where to search for him? He was a ghost, unknown to all except maybe the ones he worked for. Whenever they manage to get any closer to him, he always manages to escape, leaving a bloodbath behind.
In a gloomy corridor inside the DOD HQ, a Colonel was walking down the aisle, moving towards his office. From the other end, footsteps were echoing throughout, each thud closing in faster, but he still didn’t take any notice, until he heard a voice calling him.
“Colonel! Colonel Sermanni! Please wait! I have important intel for you. Colonel Wait Sir!” the voice of a young secretary could be heard from the other side of the corridor.
Tom, like all the other people in the corridor, reacted to the excited voice and turned towards her, seeing a small petite figure of a woman in her early 20s dressed in a navy blue suit and a mini-skirt, her chestnut hair bouncing with each step running towards him in those high heels, which he never understood the concept of, her chest held firm with all the clothes of the uniform, waving a file in his direction. Upon recognizing the young woman he smiled and waited for her to catch up.
“Ahh Ms. Morgan, what’s so important to live up to your “Baby Horse” nickname, running down here?” Tom curiously asked
A flushed faced Alex quietly handed him the file swiping sweat off her face before it smudges her perfect makeup. Tom’s curiosity was peaked when he read the red stamp CONFIDENTAL on the front. Wasting no more time, he opened the brown cover before halting in his tracks. A chill went down his spine and a cold blooded sweat ran down the side of his forehead. His face turned into a ghostly white ash. He felt light-headed, the gravity intensified by an uncountable measure pressuring his head.
Jason Moraz...
Two words. A Name. The Reason for this War and all of the shattered lives left in its wake. Worldwide destruction.
“You bastard!” were the first thoughts that entered his mind.
“Is everything ok Colonel?” Alex quietly asked seeing how his face expression changed in the process of seeing inside the file.
“Ye…yes Morgan, go back to your station and forward me any new intel regarding this case. Treat it as highest Priority.” Tom dismissed her quietly.
Turning to his secretary Tom walked to her and showed her the picture. Rachel Buehler’s eyes opened wide and her mouth was wide agape.
“Is…Is that Moraz? They found him?! Where is he now!” Rachel sputtered
“According to this intel he’s in Montenegro now, I think he found Latvia too cold for him” Tom punned a bit.
“Bloody I’m sure you meant…” Rachel commented back ruefully.
“Call in Team Delta, They’re the most prepared and adapting for this mission”
Rachel looked at him in disbelief, and words of protest soon began falling out of her mouth.
“You have to be joking, from all the Teams, THEM?”
Tom stared at her blankly and began racking his brains. He knew what she meant. This was madness, but nothing could be done, they were on his trail and they had better move and act upon it before he escapes again. Looking back at Rachel he nodded and confirming his orders again he told her to phone them up.
“Yes, Team Delta, in Boardroom 4 ASAP, less time wasted, more chance of catching him so call them up Buehler. I want them in my office in 1 hour”
Rachel just sighed, knowing how stubborn he was, she nodded in confirmation to his order and grabbed the phone, dialling an internal extension she waited for the other end to pick up while Tom proceeded to the designated boardroom.
“Lt. Col. Rampone” a weary voice rang out in the phone. “Need anything Buehler?”
“Gather your Team, all, ASAP to Boardroom 4, you only have 1 hour chance to gather them all up. New Intel on Moraz…” Lowering her voice on the last sentence.
Christie just froze, thinking she misheard she asked again about the intel, but it was no mistake, she heard it right the first time. Her everyday nightmare now turned into reality. She has to face him again, even worse, she has to lead her new team against him. The word new hurt a lot.
“Lieutenant, you still here?” Rachel worriedly asked
“Yea...yeah, I’m here...”
“I’m sorry... I tried to protest, but Colonel is stubborn, and your team is really the most adaptive”
“It’s ok Buehler, you don’t need to excuse yourself, that's why we're here...I’ll..I’ll get right to it. I’ll start calling them”
“Lieutenant?”
“Yeah?”
“Please take care...”
“I’ll try” Christie’s voice completely broke off at the last 3 words, croaking the words out.
Christie sighed and put down the receiver. Leaning back on her chair she took a deep breath and tried to calm down her nerves which were taking over. Her mind raced back to that eventful mission re-living the nightmare wide awake now. She cleared her thoughts and lifted the receiver again, calling each and every troop in her squad instructing them to meet in the hallway leading to Boardroom 4. Leaving her for last, she dreaded having to call her for this particular mission, but orders are orders so she picked up the receiver
“Lt. Wambach…”
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