“HOW MANY SURVIVED?”

“Not enough, Chief.”

Lieutenant Thomas Shoehorn kept himself low on the rubber boat that sped down the Lightning Coast. The cold air and harsh winds threw his messy blonde hair everywhere and he tasted salt forming on his lips. He slowly rubbed his hands over his chest, tucking his fingers into every pocket on his vest, fastening loose straps, and tugging important items into place. The E-7 beside him did the same, with him opting to double check his firearm for proper function.

“Ready to kill some more, Chief?”

“It’s not every day that we’re stacked against our own.” His frown turned into a grin, “President Harding informed us that we wouldn’t be fighting crazed monsters anymore. Our targets for this campaign will exclusively be humans. We just need to be ready for anything.”

Shoehorn pursed his lips as a silent thought came to his mind. He refrained to speak as Chief made a curt nod to the driver of the boat. In one swift motion, the three boats on the coast banked left and raced into the open sea under the cover of the snowstorm that had engulfed the east coast of Zivaland. The were on a methodical exit away from the FCS Cold Winter; the original extraction point was deemed to hot by their captain, so they moved to Bravo Site for a waterborne exit from the fight.

Once finished checking over himself, Shoehorn slowly adjusted himself on the boat and laid down. A bright light cut through the thick snow, and in response, his fellow brothers raised their weapons as they remained flat against the deck. They were not to engage the enemy but evade them. If conflict came from their treacherous journey, then so be it; bullets made of steel would cut down the opposition while A-Class spells would prevent any resistance. Today was a rare exception, direct action would not be the priority. Even as members of the STPC, they often found themselves shooting more than saving. This evolution however required was beyond any normal mission—escorting President Harding, Princess Leccamaradel Emma Arish, Agent Mike Randall, and Admiral Martian was something none of them had done—not even protecting normal civilians could be compared to this high-stakes mission.

Shoehorn was selected for this mission and was placed in charge of the STPC platoon. His Chief was a backwater operator that had recently surfaced within the MSF, but he held no complaints as together, they conducted the smoothest retrieval and rescue mission any special operations forces could ever hope to achieve. He oversaw everyone, but his three teams, Blue, Gold, and Red were able to storm the Cold Winter without a single casualty.

The lieutenant held his machine pistol tightly as the boats passed under the harsh beam of light. They had just managed to slip passed unnoticed, which was a benefit to them. They had woken up the entire naval base that the Cold Winter was posted at, and now they had less than ten minutes to get out of the area of operations before security detachments began performing perimeter sweeps in their heavily armed MHG-32 Combat Patrol Crafts. His eyes blinked to the silent staff sergeant and princess in his own boat. The two were unconscious still, and thankfully they would recover from their exposure to Co2 within a matter of days. All that mattered was getting them out alive, President Harding demanded that much when he and the near fatally wounded Admiral Martian were separated and delegated to Blue Team. It was a near miracle that the destroyer had enough EEBDs within two compartments to treat the four VIPs. None of Shoehorn’s men carried respirators outside of their own issued equipment.

President Harding still was the same Marine as he was twenty years ago. Standing well beyond his fifties, the politician eviscerated the standard quid pro quo that was expected of men of his caliber. He not only took up arms, but he stayed in the fight the entire time, not bothering to let his presidential duties to interfere with the direct protection and security of his nation. He was a mirror image to Princess Leccamaradel, and that was enough to put him on the wrong side of people’s favorite list.

Harding’s first month as president had reached a critical stage; 102 confirmed threats against the office and another thirteen persons of interests were arrested on suspected terrorist charges. All were prosecuted and found guilty. “Down with the traitor,” read one of the unnamed letters. “You are on the wrong side of history!” Back in the day the Office of Military and Federal Security was still in its infancy, and it was the Federation’s newly minted army who had to take charge of the presidential detail while the fledgling agents maintained all information security. To say that Harding was unrelenting and reckless was an understatement. His actions would always put those wishing to harm him at risk, as he almost took matters into his own hands to kill a man when he threatened his newly born daughter.

“Incoming message from HQ!” Riflemen Paul Jones shouted from his seat.

“Pass it!” Shoehorn said.

“MSFHQ, Lieutenant Shoehorn. High Value Target Zeta located at Naval Station Lightning’s Special Weapons Depot—break—times five riflemen, times one magician. PID and neutralize target before extraction of target Pheonix.”

“PID and neutralize target Zeta at Naval Station Lightning Special Weapons Depot, Shoehorn Aye.” The junior officer let out a heavy sigh before switching channels on his radio, “Blue Team, keep distance from the shore. Red team, follow up to the pier, we’ll storm the southern beachhead, over!”

“Roger pier.”

It could be worse. Just another hit. The lieutenant told himself.

“Thirty seconds to target!” Jones shouted, “What do we do with the princess and agent?”

Shoehorn looked down at the deck. Both mentioned had been slowly awakened by the rough seas and the shouting of his men. He noticed how Lecca seemed unaffected and in perfect combat readiness. Mike was still shaken, but he seemed together enough to not immediately rip off the pressurized mask on his face “They’re stuck with us!” Shoehorn responded as he looked towards the oncoming coast that was alerted to their presence by the boat’s roaring motor.

“Taking small arms fire! Moving to intercept point; target is watchtower, southeast!”

“Well, isn’t this just a load of bullshit!” Jones cried out as he kicked out his leg to prevent Mike from falling over from a sharp turn. “Got to babysit a princess and her boyfriend, huh?”

Gigantic tracers slammed into the ice-cold seas. “That isn’t small arms fire! That’s a MK-38!” Shoehorn screamed into his radio as Red Team continued to pursue their objective.

“Stay down Lecca!” Mike screamed as a rogue wave splashed an enormous amount of freezing water on those trapped inside the boat. He hugged her tightly as she shivered from her soaked, torn clothes. He let out a fury of curses as the boat banked once more, finally on target to make landfall in the snowstorm.

“Who the hell just had to piss off the Navy!?” Jones screamed at the top of his lungs.

“Red Team! Gold, made touchdown!”

Cutting through the heavy storm, a large fireball grew from the coast and secondary explosions erupted in the ocean. Lieutenant Shoehorn turned his head away from the casualty as he anticipated the remaining ten seconds until landing. “Hang on!” He boomed as the rubber boat was thrusted up and ran aground. Within an instant his four riflemen jumped out of the boat and began to sprint ahead under the cover of the heavy snowfall. Mike and Lecca were just as hasty, but they remained in the rear as the junior officer marched ahead at a brisk pace. “MSFHQ, Gold Team, on the ground and moving to target! Red Team is cutoff, requesting times two thunders, over!” He said into his radio as his fireteam moved through the snowdrift swiftly.

“Munition effectiveness at 30%, routing nearest battery to your battle grid.”

“Oh, so now what? You’re going to drag the army into this?” Jones sounded like he couldn’t believe a single word he was hearing.

“Can it.” The team medic grumbled.

Waltzing patiently through the dark snowdrift, Shoehorn and his riflemen reached a clearing. Silently halting near a collection of large boulders, the six watched as a eight-legged arachnid lumbered through the snow. It was larger than even a tank, yet it remained deathly quiet as it climbed atop one of the boulders and sat waiting. Thick fur sat around the exoskeleton providing a shield from the freezing cold, and its beady red eyes scanned over the white paradise as an unnerving crackle escaped its mandibles.

Looking away from his gunsight, the lieutenant saw large craters and blast shadows slowly being concealed by the white snowfall. The arachnid was out of place in this heavily militarized and deforested area. This was no natural habitat, especially not where they stood. For this creature to live here, seemingly thriving here was something beyond any of the trained gunmen hiding below.

“Keep your head down. Don’t give it a reason to target us.” The medic said over the radio.

“It’s spooked from the gunfire and explosions. I’m surprised that Red Team is still in one piece if these things are roaming around.”

Holding Lecca’s hand tighter, Mike lowered himself against the boulder and looked into her gleaming brown eyes. He felt a tug at his heart as his shaking body fought against the frigid cold, but he was warm enough to say the words, “Stay right behind me.” He was arrogantly confident that he could make it past the arachnid without drawing any attention, and now was the time to put his skills and abilities to the test. Humans were one thing, but animals were another. Shaking her head ever so slightly, Lecca placed her trust and wellbeing in her beloved’s hands. She knew the sharp look in his own shining brown eyes, and she was willing to support him through this new tribulation.

“Here.” The princess said leaning in close to her lover under the snowstorm.

Both felt a gentle sensation brush on their lips. It was only for a ticklish moment, but upon an unwanted separation, Lecca could not hide the gentle warm hue that spread across her face. The sharp gaze the staff sergeant held soften instantly, and his mind became calm. His beating heart slowed and in one swift movement, he placed his lips upon her forehead.

“Staff Sergeant,” Lieutenant Shoehorn knelt beside the Ranger. His gaze was still concealed behind the mask he wore on his face. “We’re going to take that thing out. I need you to get to a minimum safe distance and protect the princess while we go hot.”

Looking out from behind the boulder, Mike stared at the side of the arachnid. The revolver still sitting in his holster felt heavy and a cold sweat covered his entire body. The four riflemen armed with nothing, but machine pistols and spare grenades would attempt to take the fight to a being that size. It almost seemed impossible, but the Ranger held his tongue as it was clear that these men had faced against such foes before and were beyond experienced with a simple extermination mission. They also have magic, he thought to himself. Mike wasn’t sure if he should be envious that he didn’t have magic or consider himself lucky.

“I’m going to burn this fucking thing with hellfire, boss.” The medic said over the radio.

“Standby. Latch, Tough, you in position?”

“Yup-Yup.”

“Set.”

Looking over his shoulder, the lieutenant let out a small chuckle as he moved his left hand against the boulder. “See kids? We’ll show you what war looks like.” He mumbled as a shard of energy busted through the stone shattering it into thousands of shards. With Lecca and Mike falling into the snow, the arachnid was immediately drawn to the thunderous boom that emerged from Shoehorn. No wasting a second, his fireteam began to pepper the large monster with small caliber bullets and as he rose in the deep snow, the lieutenant let an overwhelming shower of pointed shards fall upon the arachnid.

“Boss! Naval Security just caught on! The whole damn eastern field just lit up!”

Grabbing his push to talk the junior officer shouted as he sprinted ahead in the dark snow, “Stay on it!” Without fear he began to fire bursts of lead at the arachnid. The first strike with the boulder wasn’t enough to immobilize the monster, so in a coordinated effort, the MSF hunters began to shed themselves of their grenades opting to let the high velocity shrapnel do an untold number on any exposed part of the spider-like creature.

“C’mon we need to move!” Mike shouted as he spotted a pair of headlights moving away from the naval base. It was no doubt a fireteam of MAs moving to respond to the sudden threat that just appeared on the base’s front door. Grasping the princess by the hand, he dragged her through the snowdrift. She grunted in pain from how forceful he was pulling, yet she said nothing as the oncoming vehicle stopped short and eight shadowy figures hopped out.

“1-1 you are cleared to engage! Kill them all!”

From one of the shadows a bright light emerged from his arm.

An enormous explosion shook the entire field sending snow flying high into the night sky. Large clumps began to fall with some falling danger close of Mike and Lecca. “Go! Keep running!” Shoehorn bellowed through the gunfire and explosions.

“5-6 we’ve got squirters heading towards the forest, advise?”

“Prosecute as needed, but the elimination of the riflemen is priority.”

“Noted. Leaving fresh corpses, out.”

With his heart trying to tear itself out of his chest, Mike didn’t stop sprinting ahead with the Princess right beside him. She had long abandoned her dress shoes at the beach and her freezing breaths were masked in white as they cut through the tree line. “Fuck.” The staff sergeant coughed out as a sharp pain grew through his abdomen. He pressed his left hand against the origin point and held his breath as they came to a crawling stop under a large oak-like tree. Falling to his knees, the staff sergeant laid still in the thick snow.

“Mike!” Rushing to his side, the princess placed a hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. Looking his body up and down more than twice, she saw that the man was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Moving her palm and placing it against his neck, she instantly withdrew it from how hot his skin was to the touch.

Fever. He won’t make it through the night unless we can find shelter.

Mike’s radio barked to life, “Confirm kill on three tangos. Moving on to next objective, over.”

“Go for Alpha. The rest will close in on Zeta.”

Picking up the radio and attaching it to her combat belt around her torn skirt, Lecca removed her kaki pistol from its holster. She stared at the metal frame and ran her thumb on the worn grip tape. The blocky night sights were faint to the eye but were just bright enough to acquire a target in the near pitch blackness of the forest. To save him. Like he sacrificed his life to save everyone’s. Lecca remained ready. There was one chance she had to create an opening to get the sergeant out alive: strike while the hunters come chatting, seed doubt into their minds, and cause enough trouble. That was her obsession.

Holstering her pistol, the princess grabbed Mike from under the shoulders, and with all her might she pulled him through the thick snow letting out a sharp grunt each time her arms burned in agony. Within the three minutes she spent dragging her staff sergeant deeper into the forest, she found the perfect hollowed tree to hide him in. The insulation wasn’t much, but it would prevent him from gaining hyperthermia, and thankfully there was no sign of any fauna as the hole seemed to be made artificially by tools or explosives.

“On site, hunting targets.”

To the roar of a truck engine, Lecca hid behind a thin three. She was just able to hide her entire body and she became one with the darkness as eight riflemen jumped out of the track wielding rifles and bright flashlights.

“They’re here! Find them! Kill them!”

Before the men moved away from the truck, they remained in a defensive position scanning the forest looking for their targets. “There are a few abandoned buildings out here. That should be our first check.” One of the riflemen, which Lecca believed to be the LPO said before stepping out with his fireteam to the south. They marched fifteen meters before stopping once more and scanning the darkness, their white lights leading the way.

“I don’t like this open area.”

“Me neither.”

“Don’t move too far, MA1!”

“Never will, LT.”

Peering around the corner of the tree, with outstretched arms Lecca aligned the night green sights of the pistol against one of the riflemen’s heads. She slowly released the breath she held and any movement in her body halted for the second she needed to squeeze the trigger back. A single snap erupted and echoed throughout the hollow forest. As red blood dripped onto the snow below, the LPO grasped his shipmate as the rest of his fireteam hit the deck minimizing their profiles.

“Contact!”

“Single shot! Sniper?”

“Johnson! You alright?” The LPO shouted as he pulled the wounded man behind the truck.

“Kinda? My head feels weird.”

“Holy fucking shit! Is that your brain?”

“I said my head feels weird!”

Tucking the pistol away in her blazer, the princess once more held her breath as her heart pounded against her chest. Finding the will to breathe, she let out a teeth-chattering huff before stepping away from the tree at a snail’s pace. Shoot and scoot… She told herself daring to make herself a target against the death-black light of the forest. The mana that had been slowly gathering in her arms provided some warmth, yet the tingly sensation made her uneasy.

“Where the hell did the shot come from?” The lieutenant in charge boomed.

“Don’t know! It was isolated, no repeat backs!”

Finding the next tree to conceal herself behind, the princess lowered herself against the frozen wood. They were spooked, and there were still seven gunmen in play to eliminate. Stay alive, Lecca.

“Find that shooter!”

With the leader’s fireteam moving divided into the forest. The princess waited patiently. She was playing a death game with these men, and it would be wise of her to find a way to get out with Mike without finding a way to engage the enemy. There was little choice she had right in the moment, but she still searched for the proper solution.

“God I can’t feel anything? What did the bullet hit exactly?”

“Don’t think son. Just keep your eyes open, alright?”

Lecca found the opportunity to move once more, she circled around the distant lights that moved eastward of her position. With light feet she tried to avoid making any trails, yet it was impossible with the amount of snow on the ground. It would only be a matter of time until they found what she had left behind. Each step she took, the nerves on her feet became numb and soon she felt nothing as she practically ran through the snow silently. Sweat poured down the side of her face. Lecca’s body fought to stay within homeostasis and a small gasp escaped her lips as she slowed on the opposite side of the truck no less than thirty meters away.

Withdrawing her pistol once more, she aimed the weapon. And paused.

“Keep your eyes open kid.”

Her eyes widened.

“MA1? I can’t feel anything, but how can I still move?”

Lecca saw as the LPO struggled to answer the question. His uniform was stained a deep and dark red as a dying man laid still in his arms. The right side of the rifleman’s skull was ripped to mere pieces and the gentle pink of his mushed brain was visible for all to see. Both men had tossed aside their firearms. There was no need for them in this dire time.

“Please kid. Stay alive. You still have that promotion board coming up, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Master Chief is a bitch, ain’t he?”

“Careful, he can hit you with punishment for that one.”

“Respectfully, suck a dick.”

Letting out a small chuckle the LPO saw the tears escaping the young man’s eyes. He didn’t know what to do to either save him or let him die peacefully. Perhaps his presence was enough, yet he still looked around into the deep-black forest in hopes of just spotting the one that was responsible for this casualty. Lecca looked at the MA1 in the eyes. Her silver hair fluttered in the harsh wind chill, and with her pistol still raised, the princess kept her finger on the half-decompressed trigger.

“Goodbye kid—”

Not another word escaped his mouth as a shard of lead cut through his throat and sent blood gushing out onto the frozen exterior of the truck. Letting out a harsh groan, the young MA fell to the ground and let out a shrill cry. “LPO is KIA!” An MA boomed as he turned the corner and stared at two corpses on the snow drift. The remaining riflemen formed a defensive perimeter around the lieutenant as he kept his firearm raised towards the deep dark.

“Fucking move! It’s the princess! It has to be!” The junior officer snarled letting rage cloud his decision making. Charging ahead alone, the other men sprinted after him with the goal of leaving the area before anymore casualties would befall them.

Lowering her arms, the princess stood tall against the woodland. With shaking hands, she holstered the tan pistol and turned around marching into the night.

“Forward element, Recon 1, three times riflemen eliminated. Moving on the X now.”

“Roger up Recon. Batteries are standing by, paint the munitions depot, over.”

“Commence infiltration. Mass drivers are primed for firing get that target painted.”

With Mike attached to a hefty lanyard, Lecca awaited her body to gather the strength necessary to pull him through the deep snow. The MAs that had hunter heard made mention of several abandoned buildings within the region. It would only be a matter of time until she found one and claimed it for both her and Mike to hunker down for the night. Looking back over her shoulder as she began the treacherous trek, she saw that the agent’s face was glistening, and head that his breaths were harsh.

“Blue Leader, interrogative, President and Admiral Martian are secured. Should we move to assist in the evacuation of the additional VIPs?”

“Negative, armored units are already deployed.”

“Bit overkill. Roger’ed up though.”

Removing her pistol from its holster, Lecca groaned as she kept it close to her chest. White lights were beginning to close near her position. They had caught her trail. Pounding against her chest, her heart began to push beyond what it could achieve on a day-to-day basis and a surge of energy flooded her cold body making it warm in an instant.

With some luck she would leave this nation alive and return to her own.

“Load AP.”

“Up!”

“Fire!”

At the drop of a hat, the entire forest shook as an explosion brighter than the moon cut through the darkness.

Publicly Available Information: Armored Reconnaissance:

Within the Federation Army, three divisions of armored calvary have a directive to not engage the enemy, but to locate, research, and record unknown hostiles. Comprised of the best mechanics, operators, and engineers the army could offer, these units go beyond the call of the usual soldier and face constant attack in the name of information and truth.