Front Lines (Chapters 1-5)

Telos is currently in the process of rewriting much of these five chapters, so there may be inconsistencies before he is complete.

Chapter One: Drop

Fort Descetro was not actually a fort at all. It was a bunker located almost a kilometer underground, and happened to be the headquarters of خنجره (which translates to "Dagger") - a powerful terrorist group based off the coast of Malaysia, with close ties to both al-Qaeda and the Taliban. It had been designed by the insane ex-military Malaysian named Raphael Hassar - who was also the de facto leader of Dagger. Because the bunker was set so deep into the ground, a missle would not be able to do any significant damage to the interior. Additionally, it would cost many lives to mount a full-scale assault involving the Malaysian military on the seemingly impenetrable bunker. That's why the Front Lines team - Timer, Scope, Rapid and Shade - were sent in...

Alexander McGarath was tall and thin, with a graying mop of hair and a pointed nose. He was the mission manager and Head of Operation: Front Lines, a secret government-sponsored dedicated to destroying illegal organisations. They were the absolute best of the best - the elite of the elite. Each of the four members (Timer, Scope, Rapid and Shade) had received two years of solid training in their respective fields. At that moment, the team was on a private military jet designed for speed, and they were roaring toward the Malaysian coast, not far from the equator. They were headed for Fort Descetro, on a mission to assassinate terrorist leader Raphael Hassar and cripple the activities of Dagger. The team planned to drop in via parachute, kill the guards, stealthily infiltrate the bunker, locate and capture or kill Raphael Hassar, then rig the entire complex with explosives and blow the whole facility to kingdom come.

"Have you all studied your plans of Fort Descetro? We'll need them." Mr McGarath intoned.

"I have," replied Trent Williams, codenamed Timer. He was an expert in explosives and bombs, and commonly carried an RGP-29, a type of mini-rocket launcher. It was designed for anti-tank use, but Timer preferred to use its powerful blasts against foot soldiers. Across his chest were two chains made of grenades linked together. They criss-crossed over his torso and around his back. In a pouch on his belt rested a kilogram of plastic C-4 explosive. C-4 was like plasticine - except it caused very strong explosions when detonated. Timer carried everything from timed bombs (hence his name) to mines and remote-controlled "boom packs", as he liked to call them. A single silenced mini-UZI rested in a pocket on his arm, in the unlikely event that he ran out of other things to throw at his opponents. Behind the mass of bombs attached all over his body, Timer wore khaki-colored combat pants and a shirt, which provided a degree of camouflage. Because he carried so many varieties of volatile explosives, shooting at him was suicide. As a result, he never bothered to wear any body armor, apart from a helmet to protect himself against any falling rubble. Timer had wavy blond hair which was obscured by his helmet when he was on a mission, but at home he liked to texture it with hair gel. Due to his maturity and intellect, Timer was the commander of the squad and issued many of the orders.

"You think I'm an idiot? Of couse." explained Scope, already pulling on his parachute. Scope was tall and lanky, with short dark hair and hazelnut eyes. He was primarily a marksman, utilizing a heavily upgraded version of the bolt-action 7.62x51mm calibre "Bor" sniper rifle. For closer combat, he carried a silenced Glock that he used to pick off his foes. Scope usually wore a fire-proof and bullet-proof trenchcoat with boots that almost reached his knees. For this mission, however, he was in a light-weight khaki tunic and trousers.

Scott Marshall, or Shade, lurked behind. He was a mysterious man who specialized in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, though he was also an excellent negotiator. Despite his skills in negotiating, Shade had a dark temper that usually resulted in someone going to the hospital. He had been known to take down thirty trained men with nothing but his bare hands and a fiery determination. As usual, Shade wore a black jumpsuit, despite the humid air. Shade was equipped with everything from throwing shurikens and knives to knockout gas and poison. He carried a single mini-UZI identical to Timer's, but he rarely used it, preferring to do the work with his fists instead. Shade was very experienced in everything physical - karate, judo, gymnastics, kung fu, fencing and swordfighting, taekwondo and even a modern form of ninjutsu - which made him a formidable opponent.

Next to Shade stood Robert Gray, AKA Rapid, the weapons specialist. He was the "tank" of the group, and carried numerous types of automatic and semi-automatic weapons in pouches and holsters all over his body, ranging from a Sig Sauer to the CAR-15 submachine gun. He wore brown military-style boots and a heavy bulletproof vest. Rapid was very brawny and excelled in street boxing, which was helpful when he assisted in interrogations.

After donning their parachutes (which were colored light blue, to blend in with the sky), the crew of Operation Front Lines was ready to go.

"On 3-2-1..." called Timer, before plummeting out of the hatch and falling toward the shallow areas of the sea. Following him came Scope, Rapid and Shade. Scope pulled on a cord and from his backpack sprung a thin fiber parachute. As he glided down through the humid air, he felt the common rush of euphoria that skydivers experience, followed by the usual jolt of panic as the water rushed up to meet him. Scope curled into a ball as he landed with a splash into the cold salty water. He swam to the surface, shaking liquid out of his hair and eyes when suddenly a loud boom came from behind and a blast of flame lit up the sky. Scope spun around to see the plane, with Alexander McGarath on board, detonate in a tremendous fireball. Smoke curled upwards like a billowing ghostly hand.

"Look out!" screamed Shade.

Scope lunged towards the shore as the red-hot remains of the plane fell in his direction. He avoided the debris, barely escaping the clutches of the ruined aircraft. As the blazing pieces of metal hit the water, an immense cloud of steam enveloped the surrounding area. The foursome flailed around blindly as they waiting for the thick haze of vapor to disperse.

"What the fuck was that?!" yelled Rapid as the wall of spray evaporated in the hot Malaysian sun.

"The plane exploded! I bet it was sabotage! That's our private jet, it hasn't failed us before, so there must have been a bomb. That explosion was pretty big, there's no chance Mr McGarath survived." said Scope grimly. Shade remained silent, but his brow was furrowed. It might have just been his imagination, but Scope thought he saw an uncharacteristic tear trickle down Shade's cheek.

"Are you sure it wasn't just a malfunction of some kind? We shouldn't jump to conclusions like that." suggested Rapid.

"No, that was sabotage. I know my explosives; you could see by the way the flames expanded from the middle of the aircraft that it was a bomb. My guess is that it was something volatile detonated by a smaller explosion, such as an IED, or improvised explosive device." answered Timer.

"So someone knew we were on this mission." Shade stated darkly.

"There are less than twenty people in the country that know we even exist. Only five or so knew we were on this mission, not including us. I suspect there's a traitor, or we're under surveillance. However, now is not the time to discuss this matter, regardless of its seriousness. Let's move." ordered Timer.

With that, the quartet marched solemnly up the beach and disappeared into the thick humid jungle.

Chapter Two: Entrance

The jungle was sweltering, but very damp. The air itself was so thick with moisture that it felt difficult to breath. Mosquitoes circled around the team, covering them in itchy red sores. They had all received injections against malaria, but that didn't protect them against the irritating welts the mosquitoes caused. Palm trees and vines towered above them, creating a dense green shade that did nothing to relieve the heat. The plants grew very close together, which meant that the four operatives often had to use their government-issue machetes to hack through sheets of the overgrown vegetation. Rapid growled as yet another mosquito sunk its proboscis into the soft skin of his neck.

"If I get bitten by one more mosquito, I'm gonna fuc-"

"Mind your language, Rapid." Shade interrupted before Rapid could finish his sentence.

The team continued hiking through the hellish tropical forest in silence, aside from the occasional angry grunt from Rapid.

"What a dump!" smirked Timer as the squad trudged up to the isolated mound of metal. Scope pulled on a pair of heat detecting goggles to check for snipers. As he put them on, his vision turned green with orange-red blotches where anybody stood. Scope looked toward the top of Fort Descetro. There, he sighted over 20 rust colored blurs where snipers waited.

Suddenly, there was a cry of "Intruders!" from above. Scope dived out of the way as multiple shots tore apart the tree behind him. He took his new M-26 sniper rifle and lifted it to one of the terrorist snipers. In 15 seconds, Scope pulled the trigger 20 times, and in moments all the enemy snipers were incapacitated or dead - from where he was Scope couldn't tell, and he didn't want to risk attempting to find out.

"Go!" Scope whispered to Timer, gesturing for him to destroy a door a few yards ahead, guarded by a pair of confused sentries. Timer grabbed his mini-rocket launcher, fitted a rocket into it and fired. The small missile flew forwards, slamming into the door. It immediately exploded, destroying not only the entrance but blasting apart the guards as well.

"Move out, team!" commanded Timer, pointing at the smoking remains of the reinforced steel door.

Rapid stepped inside, only to step back out again. The entire room was criss-crossed with gleaming red rays of light and thin metal wires.

"Hell! It's an anti-intruder system and a bunch of tripwires! If we touch one of those beams, the whole damn fortress will know we're here, and if we hit one of those little wires we're history! Do any of you have a security hacking device?" cursed Rapid, spitting on the ground.

"Allow me," said Shade, pushing Rapid aside. He reached into a pocket and withdrew what looked like a regular pistol. Shade pointed it at a grate covering an air duct. He fired, but rather than a bullet, a cable came out. The end of the cable fastened onto the grate, and Shade pulled the trigger a second time for a winch mechanism to haul him up. He removed the grate and crawled inside the air vent, then tossed the grappling gun back down to the others.

"Let's move, before Hassar's men find us!" Shade hissed as he disappeared into the air duct.

The others quickly followed. They all knew it wouldn't be long at all before someone found the wrecked door and dead guards, and they had precious little time to accomplish their goal before they had everyone in the building after them. Scope came last, and replaced the grate behind them as they shuffled along the cold metal tube.

"Does anybody actually know where we're going?" inquired Rapid.

"Umm..." replied Scope and Timer simultaneously.

"Shade?" the three said in unison.

"I don't know for sure, but I think this is the way to Hassar's private quarters," explained Shade, trying to remember the building plans he had been shown soon after accepting the mission.

Soon the team came across another grate. Shade signalled to wait as he silently prised it off and peered down below. A pair of armed guards paced back and forth along the corridor like clockwork tin soldiers. Shade bunched his fists and prepared to take them out.

Chapter Three: Hunting for Hassar

Shade dropped from the air vent, rendering one of the guards unconscious with a flying kick to the head. He quickly disarmed the other, then grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

"Tell Hassar to surrender, or else!" Shade warned.

"No!" the guard replied.

"Wrong answer," said Shade. From his pocket he withdrew a 90,000 volt stun-gun and blasted the guard with it. "I said, tell Hassar to surrender!"

"O-ok, just let me get to my radio!" stammered the guard in rough English, reaching to his belt. Shade let him tumble to the ground as reached for his walkie-talkie. As soon as the guard had it within his grasp, he barked in Arabic (which Shade understood anyway), "Intruders! We're under attack in Block E-5 by -"

He never got to finish, for Shade had lifted him up and hurled him across the room with almost inhuman strength. There was a sickening crunch as the guard hit the wall so hard that his neck broke and he lay on the floor, unmoving.

"Let's go team!" called Timer from above as he dived down from the air shaft and pulled out a stick of C-4 explosive. He plastered it against the door, then told everyone to get back. When they were all several hundred meters away from the powerful plastic bomb, Timer activated it and blew the opening apart with a thunderous roar. A screeching alarm went off while Rapid strode through the rubble, unholstering a pair of hand-held automatic weapons. Unfortunately, he was met by both an alarming and somewhat disappointing sight. Rather than a helpless Hassar, he faced at least 50 heavily equipped soldiers. Shrugging, Rapid aimed at their kneecaps and held down the triggers of his guns. He walzted forward, easily mowing down the enemies. Thanks to his state-of-the-art carbon nanotube fiber armor, he wasn't severely injured when he was shot. However, the force of the bullets badly bruised him wherever he was hit. Rapid thought it was a miracle that none of his ribs were broken. When the final trooper dropped to the ground, clutching his blood-pouring knees in pain, Timer took charge, directing them back down the corridor.

"I think I know where we are now! It's this way!" Timer explained as they took off running.

Soon, a double-thick titanium door came into view. A pair of automatic turrets guarded the entrance to Hassar's quarters.

"Defensive positions!" shouted Timer as the turrets burst to life, unleashing streams of bullets at the four men. Timer scrambled away, for if he was hit everybody would be not only killed, but completely obliterated by his mass of volatile explosives. He tore a mini-rocket refill out of the strap on his back and loaded it into his rocket launcher. Timer shot the projectile straight at the barricade-like door, detonating both turrets. The door, however, remained intact.

Timer frowned in annoyance, taking an assortment of deadly explosives and planting them all over the secure entry point. "This is going to be a big one! Better get clear!" he warned, dashing down the corridor. The others followed him down the walkway, turning several corners in order to escape the blast that was about the destroy the door. "Here we go!" grinned Timer as he pressed the detonator. The moment his finger touched the button, a wall of fire surged through the fortress, engulfing anything and everything in its path. The team felt the heat wash over them as smoke flooded the complex. When the heat died down a little, the four made their way back to the entrance to Hassar's lair. Instead, they found the corridor blackened and a sizzling hole where the door had once been. The team reloaded their weapons, wiped sweat from their brows and prepared to take down the most elusive and deadly terrorist the world had ever seen.

Chapter Four: Reckoning

Rapid strode through the doorway first, his guns ready to fire. All of the lights were out, leaving the room completely black. As he entered Hassar's private quarters, Rapid noticed a small red dot on his left arm. From a speaker in the corner came a loud Mexican voice:

"Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air, or you'll be short of one arm."

Rapid glanced down at the point just below his shoulder, finally realizing what the crimson dot was: a laser targeting device. Rapid knew the shot couldn't penetrate his body armor, but despite this, his lunged to the floor. The sound of gunfire ripped through the air, but it was only Scope, who squinted through his sniper rifle, flicking the switch on his goggles to night vision mode. He scanned the room, but found nothing.

"What's it to be?" crooned the voice through the speaker.

"Show yourself, Hassar!" snarled Shade.

Silence.

"Why doesn't he attack us?" asked Rapid, confused.

"He's bluffing! It's only a laser pointer!" realized Timer.

Suddenly, Shade's ears detected the faint sound of the blades of a helicopter.

"He escaping!" he shouted.

On the other side of the room Timer sighted a second iron door. With his second-last remaining rocket, Timer reduced to debris. He charged past, already inserting his final refill into his rocket launcher. The room he emerged in had two other doors leading away. Timer picked one at random, kicking it down. He howled with frustration that he had entered Hassar's bedroom. A huge king-sized bed occupied most of the space, but the room also contained a large flat-screen television and a second doorway led to a bathroom.

"Oh, @#$%!" cursed Scope.

The team bolted back to try the other door. Scope prepared to ram it, only to be stopped by Shade, who fished a lock gun out of his jumpsuit. With a click, the door burst open and the team hurried through. They were met with a blast of humid air and a gale generated by a sleek gray helicopter which hovered about 70 meters away. Timer lifted his miniature missile launcher and pointed it at Hassar's chopper. He concentrated, waiting for the perfect shot... Suddenly Hassar let loose a barrage of projectiles from his helicopter. The shots ripped into the side of Fort Descetro, transforming the camouflaged wall into a pile of rubble. As the whole fortress began to collapse beneath him, Timer fired his rocket launcher - and missed by mere centimeters. The helicopter turned and fled into the fiery orange sunset.

"I'll get you Hassar!" howled Rapid.

Moments later the helicopter pad descended into the heap of debris that was once Fort Descetro.

"Team, report!" shouted Timer as he climbed out from under a layer of bricks and dust.

"Uuugh," groaned Rapid from somewhere below.

"I'm okay I guess," stated Scope, crawling out from beneath a torn sheet of metal.

"I'm fine. What matters is that our target got away!" growled Shade.

"There's not much we can do about it now." replied Timer.

"The big question now, is how are we going to get back to America?" asked Scope.

"I have a mobile," piped up Rapid, still somewhat muffled by the rubble above him.

"Give it here," said Timer, helping Rapid up. Within seconds, he had snatched the portable hand-held phone and speed-dialed a number. Moments later, a voice answered him:

"Central Intelligence Agency," said the voice. "How can I help you?"

"Put me through to Lester Thomas. Tell him it's RITDDAG." Timer instructed. Moments later, Lester's voice came onto the phone.

"Timer! How's the mission going? Do you need backup?" Lester, who was the Head of the CIA, asked.

"I need you to send someone to pick us up. We're stranded on the coast of a north Malaysian island. You might want to send in a few soldiers as well, just to apprehend any survivors."

"Survivors? What happened?!"

"Well, a bomb went off in our plane, Alexander's dead and Hassar destroyed Fort Descetro. We're extremely lucky to be alive."

Chapter Five: Debriefed

Five hours later, Timer, Scope, Rapid and Shade were flying back to America in a fast military plane. It had turned out that everyone else in the fortress had been killed when it was destroyed by Hassar. The plane soon touched down on a runway in Washington, and the team were ushered through the airport and into a waiting stretch limousine.

"Sweet, we get to ride in style!" commented Scope as he settled into the leather seat. A man wearing dark sunglasses and a suit drove them onto the freeway. Scope's mouth watered as they passed an ice-cream parlor.

"Trent, can I get a choc-"

Timer silenced him with a this-isn't-the-time-or-the-place glare. The fancy black limousine halted in front of a large pentagon-shaped office building. The Pentagon was nothing new for the team - they had been there many times.

"Good old HQ!" sighed Rapid.

They sidled inside and ascended a staircase until they reached the familiar office of Lester Thomas. He was in his late forties but still looked semi-youthful, with short red hair, a small goatee beard and large green eyes. Lester was usually quite understanding, and he was very persuasive.

"Hello, Timer. I take it the mission was a failure?"

"Mostly. Hassar got away and our mission manager is dead. On the bright side, it looks like we've permanently taken Hassar's terrorist group Dagger out of the picture." Timer replied. "But now that Alexander's dead, we obviously need a new mission manager."

"Yes, I've prepared for that. Meet Amy Groves," Lester said, gesturing to a door to his right.

Just then a pretty woman entered from the door Lester had pointed at. She had long brown hair and tanned skin, and wore a tight-fitting leather suit. She strode elegantly to stand beside Lester, and briefly glanced the team up and down before bringing her dark eyes level with Timer.

"Hey, sexy!" Scope crooned, shuffling up beside her.

"Unless you want to get your fingers broken, I recommend you take your hand off of my waist immediately," she responded, scowling at Scope.

"Oooh, feisty!" Scope flirted, suggestively raising his eyebrows.

Amy lashed out, jabbing Scope hard in the kidneys. She then tripped him up and slammed him hard into the ground. To finish him off, she twisted his arm behind his back and grabbed his fingers. By making a fist she could dislocate all of the bones in his hand. He groaned and obediently stepped back, clutching his stomach and his wounded fingers while Timer mouthed "Cut it out!"

"Trent Williams, Andrew Beckett, Robert Gray, Scott Marshal. Nice to meet you."

"A pleasure," said Timer, shaking her hand, "but we usually go by our codenames."

"If that's what you would prefer," Amy acknowledged.

"Amy was a tactician and political advisor in the military, but she has a large amount of combat experience too," Lester explained.

"Lester, there's an issue I'd like to talk about. We believe someone has infiltrated the CIA," Shade began.

"What!?" Lester exclaimed.

"Someone sabotaged our plane. It had to be someone pretty high-ranking, not many people have access to a mission as secret as that," Timer clarified.

"We can narrow it down to within about 10 people then. I'll get to work rooting out the traitor immediately. You can have the rest of the month off in the meantime," Lester declared.

The team and Amy filed out of Lester's office and disappeared down the corridor.

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