September 6, 2017

5.30 am, London, UK

“Team Six's military transport plane should be overhead right now." Darya says as she stares in disdain at the black silhouette on the hologram illuminating her dark office.

“Vengeance will soon be mine!” Mad Scientist says through his disembodied voice, “Most excellent work Darya.”

“Screw this up and I will make you regret it.” Darya responds.

“I am Chair.” Mad Scientist says, “I am in charge! I give the orders!”

“The only person that can give me orders is the General.” Darya says ending the call.

12.30 am, Cancun, Mexico

“Reaper confirms 30 heat signatures. 5 in the house, 7 pairs patrolling the buildings in two perimeters, and 11 in the barn.” Fire says tapping his tablet, “Eggheads at Langley suspect the girls are being kept in the northeast quadrant of the barn.”

The noise and vibrations of the fast-moving C-130 Hercules necessities near-shouting for communication. Each team member’s tablet shares a synchronized display, therefore, Fire’s highlights are clearly seen by everyone. The cabin lights are red. Team Six huddles in a circle. Parachutes on their backs, helmets on their heads, goggles on their eyes, gloves on their hands, and the rest of their gear in between their legs.

“We will rendezvous here, 200 meters southeast of the target.” Fire says, “Shade and Wave will sneak ahead and secure the girls then wait for our arrival. Quake will make a distraction to draw enemy focus in the southwest direction meanwhile all the guys will form a box 50 meters from the farm then clear out combatants as we close in. Spectrum will clear the house then join me and Aviator will join up with Quake. The FBI will be an hour behind us.”

“Great cloud coverage and low winds. They won’t see us coming, Chief!” Quake says.

“There, you went and jinxed us. Bring your wooden head over here so I can unjinx us.” Spectrum says, reaching out to grab Quake who quickly docks away.

“No plan B this time?” Wave asks.

“Yeah… this gang did overwhelm and annihilate the Secret Service security detail,” Aviator says.

“Adapt and improvise.” Fire responds.

Shade assents silently with a nod.

“We are over the drop zone.” Fire says, “Operation Nestlings Recovery is green. Maintain radio silence until mission end.”

The cabin lights turn green. On cue, the Technical Sergeant in charge of the parachute jumps vertically pushes up the side door, instantly flooding the cabin with a deafening noise. The Sergeant gives a thumbs-up signal to Team Six.

Fire responds with a thumbs up, making his way to the door as the others line up behind him. Looking at the moonlight punching through the clouds below, he leaps out of the C-130.

5 minutes later... Fire skillfully avoids trees, touching down on the forest floor with a gentle thud. He quickly scans his surroundings while efficiently uncoupling from his parachute with practiced movements. He methodically checks his watch to gain his bearings while folding his parachute.

Fire pulls out equipment from the heavy gear bag. He puts on a dark half-face gas mask. He pulls out his Glock 19 pistol then skillfully attaches a silencer. Night vision goggles replace the skydive goggles. He slings an M16 onto his back. He adds grenades and ammunition to his tactical utility belt. Once done, he hides the gear bag and parachute beneath a pile of leaves. One final mental checklist then step-by-step, he begins moving towards the rendezvous point.

Conspicuously absent from his uniform is any American flag or emblem. Team Six operates in necessary muddy waters America does not want to confirm publicly.

10 minutes later…

A whisper of the Sea breeze rustles the trees. Moonlight dyes the forest floor shades of grey and shadows. Leaves crunch beneath the silent encroaching footsteps of Team Six. 200 meters ahead, lights shine from what should have been deserted farmhouses. Masked men with guns patrol the barn and adjacent house.

With a raise of Fire’s left hand, the team splits.

Fire takes up position behind a tree, gun in his right and knife in his left. He checks his watch, 12.47 am local time. Right on time, an explosion ripples through the forest. Fire counts down from 10 seconds. Safety off. Advance.

The first pair of gang members are totally unprepared for the silent bullets from behind them. Perfect headshots to their brainstem. The next pair aren’t so lucky when they come to investigate. One got a clean shot to the skull. The other foolishly tried close combat, throwing a punch with great gusto and no form. He is up against someone ten times stronger and battlefield sharpened. His efforts get him a broken arm and 7 inches of sharp steel slitting his windpipe. His death is soundless. He never stood a chance.

Scanning the corpses, Fire sees that none looks older than twenty years old.

If only I could’ve recruited them into The Orphanage… Perhaps you will be better in the next life with better conditions, Fire laments mentally.

Fire presses onwards, quickly dispatch another pair of assailants as he steps into the clearing. Spectrum soon joins him while switching to an M203 grenade launcher. Fire quickly removes his silencer and replaces his ammo. Both remove their night-vision goggles because of the light pouring out of the glass windows from high up in the barn. Fire checks his watch, 12.50 am.

Quake and Aviator should be 30 seconds away, Fire thinks.

Fire signals to Spectrum to fire a smoke grenade through the glass window overhead.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Fire kicks open the barn door and runs in.

Something is immediately wrong. There is no one in the barn.

Fire and Spectrum uneasily advance. Both scanning towards the supposed location of the abducted women yet finding neither them nor Wave and Shade. 10 seconds later, the other side of the barn is breached by Quake and Aviator. Both parties stare at each other in confusion.

The entire space is suddenly illuminated. Steel barricades rise to block the entrances. An invisible second floor is unmasked, revealing dozens of fully armed people all pointing their weapons down at the team below.

“We meet again, Fire!” Mad Scientist’s metallic voice booms through the silent barn from unseen speakers.

The team searches but can’t find the source of the cold voice.

“Where are my manners, here I come,” Mad Scientist says. A glass platform rises from the ground. Four armed men in bright yellow hazmat suits escort a hideous figure in a wheelchair. A breathing apparatus hangs from his face, echoing aloud each techno-mechanical breath taken. The figure’s face is scarred beyond description, hiding beneath a set of giant tainted goggles.

“I intend to have some fun with you first so do not resist.” Mad Scientist says, “I also have both your teammates and the president’s granddaughters.”

“Who are you?” Fire asks, gun pointing at the Mad Scientist. His head growing sluggish yet he stubbornly attempts to plan an escape.

“I got so excited that I forgot to reintroduce myself.” Mad Scientist says, “Last we met, you burned down my lab while I was still in it so you might not recognize me now. I am Mad Scientist.”

“What do you want?” Quake asks.

“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME, BOY!” Mad Scientist says, “Only Fire may speak with me.”

“So, what do you want?” Fire asks. His mind slowing.

“Your death but right now, your total surrender.” Mad Scientist says, “Just allow the gas to work.”

After a moments’ hesitation, Fire drops his weapons spurring his team to do the same. Their bodies swaying.

“Just another minute and you will be down. Just relax.” Mad Scientist says, “This is for my revenge and science.”

“What did you do?” Fire struggles to ask.

“Ever since you stepped into this building, you have been gassed with a new serum of mine and I am eager to see the effects.” Mad Scientist says, “Actually, everyone else apart from my escorts has been gassed. Why waste good specimens after all?”

As if on command, all the guards drop their weapons while some even topple over the guard rails onto the floor in pain.

“Oh! I forgot to mention the pain.” Mad Scientist says, “I am just too excited today!”

That’s when the pain hits Fire. His nostrils burn, spreading through his throat to his lungs. He falls down in agony, struggling to breathe. He is too weak to even rip off his mask. He can’t even cry out. His mind and heart races. With his failing senses, he sees his team also fall in pain.

“Seize Fire! I have a special show planned just for him.” Mad Scientist says in glee, “Throw the rest with the other lab rats.”