The Blessing
It’s funny how quickly people can change, especially if their life depends on it. My name is Frank John Bortone. I’m 17, and my friends and I have done things and seen things that most adults only imagine about, only see in their darkest and deepest nightmares.
It was April 10th, 2007. It seemed like a normal enough day; the sun was just coming up as I stepped out of my basement into the brisk spring air. Little did I know, that basement was the last part of my old life I would ever see. “Sup.” I turned to see my friend Rob walking towards me. That was our daily routine; out of our houses by six and at the bus stop by six-ten. Rob was about my height, skinnier, with light brown hair. He was wearing an Ecko sweater and baggy jeans. The headmaster graciously let us wear dress down that day. I was wearing a pair of BDUs; we were supposed to be going on a paintball trip. The bus came around six-twenty, and our long day began. After about five minutes of riding, the bus stopped, and Gianluca got on. He was a few inches taller than I was, thinner too, with short cut, black hair. He was wearing BDUs too. We’d been friends since the fifth grade, and we were always looking forward to school paintball competitions we could participate in. We all got off the bus, and entered the subway. That’s when we first noticed that this wasn’t a normal day at all…
“Asshole…” Gianluca muttered. Some idiot had just knocked into him, as he ran out of the station. The turnstiles were straight ahead, but there was something near them that was a rare site in Queens. Five heavily armed and armored cops stood by the service booth, coldly scanning the throngs of commuters coming and going. I immediately recognized them as Hercules units, the city’s anti-terror force. I stopped and said to one of them, “Excuse me officer, is there anything going on? We don’t normally see you guys around Queens.” He replied, “You look like a bunch of smart kids. Listen, all I know is that the nation’s been put on red alert since four this morning. Keep your eyes open guys.” We thanked him and walked down the steps, onto the platform. For some reason, we didn’t think much of it that day; we probably should have.
Following our usual train ride, we got off at 14th street, and stepped onto the sidewalk. We had crossed the street and were about to go into school, when I heard a familiar voice. “Frank, come over here! Your friends, too!” It was my Uncle John, so my friends and I walked over to his Chevy Suburban. “What’s up Uncle John? What are you doing here?” “Listen…” he said, “…you trust me, right?” “Of course.” I said. My uncle just whispered, “You and your friends need to get in right now.” Rob said, “We have to get to school Frank, come on.” “Wait, I know Frank’s uncle…” Gianluca said, “…this has to be something big.” My uncle replied, “Trust me, missing a day of school is the least of your worries today.” We got in, and without a word, he began to drive to his house in Westchester.
When we arrived, the first thing I noticed was strange, but not totally unexpected. There were some unmarked cars that I figured belonged to the feds, and another car, that I noticed had Russian plates and a large trailer behind it. “What’s going on here?” I began. Uncle John just said, “You’ll see in a minute…” We walked in to find some very large Russian men, with AK s and body armor. “HOLY SHIT! YOU GUYS ARE SPETSNAZ!” Gianluca exclaimed. I was speechless, confused and terribly excited to find out what was going on. Rob just stood there, overwhelmed. “So, John, these the kids you told us about?” The larger Russian said. My uncle said “Yeah, we’re gonna need to teach this one…” gesturing towards Rob, “…but my godson and his friend are ready.” The Russian grinned and said, “Mr. Bortone, Mr. La Manno; follow me please…”
We followed him outside and he led us over towards the trailer. “You apparently know what I am,” he said, “So I will just tell you who I am, and why I am here.” He introduced himself as Aleksander Romanov. He was the leader of a Russian special unit assigned to prevent terrorist activities on American soil, or if necessary, to eliminate a present threat. He opened the trailer and said jokingly, “I bet you’ve never fired one of these before!” He opened one of three heavy steel cases and handed me the contents. He started, “This is a Barrett -” “-XM 28 Anti-material sniper rifle” I quickly said. “Ah, I am impressed comrade, you know your rifles.” Gianluca stared at it hungrily, until the Russian laughed and said, “Of course we didn’t forget you, Mr. La Manno. You will also receive one.” He opened a second case and handed Gianluca his rifle. As I stared at the rifle I held in my hands, Aleksander began to explain, “You see comrades, I originally led a team of two other men. Regretfully, they were shot by members of a very dangerous and influential Afghani splinter cell…” Gianluca and I looked at each other, anticipating his next line. “The Premier has ordered that I return to Russia immediately, so I decided to hand this task off to people I can trust. All military marksmen are registered and watched carefully, and most adults are entered into the federal registry.” He paused and said with confidence, “The only people capable of performing these tasks are teenagers, young enough to stay under the radar, and old enough to meet the emotional, mental, and physical requirements needed to be an effective sniper.” My uncle stepped out of the house and said, “Aleksander is an old friend of mine. When he mentioned his plan, I mentioned the two of you, since I know you both were capable and mature.” Suddenly, the other Russian ran out of the house. “Comrade Romanov! The American president has ordered a nationwide lockdown. The military is leaving for the mid-west and the police units are retreating to their precinct stations. The streets are empty, except for the terrorists, and us…” Aleksander calmly said, “The fate of this city is in your hands. In these wooden crates are rounds for your rifles, cleaning kits, rations, and other various pieces of equipment like NVGs, body armor, and surgical kits. In this final case are a few pistols and a spotter’s scope for your friend. ” He paused, and said finally, “I hope to see you again someday comrades. Good luck. You have my blessing, and the blessings of all who know of this program.” With that, he got in the car, and drove off, leaving us with two very large rifles, some crates, and a seemingly impossible task to complete.
The Baptism
CRACK! The shot rang out and Rob said into his mouthpiece, “Hit, center mass; tango down.” I took a breath and eyed my handiwork; it was really the perfect shot, right through the heart. “Holy shit,” Rob said, “that’s already eight today. More than we had for all of last week.” Gianluca added, “I guess they’re becoming bolder.” I laughed and said “You would think they’d be afraid to step foot outside.” I peered down at the doorway through my scope. That was where the last three had come out of. “Gotcha you piece of shit…” Gianluca squeezed the trigger. CRACK! “Hit, center mass; he’s down.” Nilson said. We found him on the roof of Xavier, with a dead terrorist, a bloody saber and an emergency radio. He was more than happy to join our little group, and was particularly keen on the idea of cleansing the streets of New York of the latest pest problem. I was personally overjoyed. I had always dreamt of being a sniper; all the movies I’ve seen and books I’ve read and people I’ve talked to eventually convinced me that I was meant for it. The idea of it is so alluring; being so far away, distant and separated from everything else, and yet, having so much power over the outcome of everything. Some people might call it a “God complex”, we call it “realized omnipotence.”
The Offer
It was only four in the morning, the terrorists weren’t even awake. Gianluca and Nilson were on shift when Rob and I had woken with a start. “Frank, do you hear that?” Rob said in a hushed tone. “Yeah,” I responded, “that’s a chopper, and it’s been at the same tone for about twenty minutes. We’re being watched.” Rob scanned the horizon with the spotter’s scope. “I see them, off to the North. They’re friendlies.” Gianluca looked and said “They’re moving towards us now.” “Well,” I said, “Let’s roll out the red carpet.”
When the chopper landed, we received some shocking news from a Federal agent. The government had been watching us and was interested in supporting our little group on one condition; we needed to disappear. If we could be identified, the terrorists might single out loved ones and friends. The agent said that with our permission, we would be deleted from all government databases, except three. First, we were to have a confidential file created to record our kills. The second was that we were to be registered as free agents, a pre-existing database that had about six other people on it. The final database was a little more serious, and a great honor. We were filed as a classified Spec-Ops unit and given the name “The Saviors”. From that point on, were on an official government mission. We were to receive government supplies and a “permit” to let us legally perform our duties. Rob and I were designated as one unit, and Gianluca and Nilson as the other. As for the “disappearing” part, all of our citizenships were suspended for the time being, and our passports and identification papers were destroyed. To the rest of the world, Frank Bortone, Robert Brosius, Gianluca LaManno and Michael Nilson were dead and gone.
Personal Interest
Although we focused mainly on elimination, I’ll never forget the escort mission we took on. We had recently come across a group of students from Ferrer, and they were all desperate to get out of their school. We knew some of them, and after eight weeks with only other men as company, it was a nice change of pace. With our newly acquired government aid (including some M-4s), Rob and I proceeded into the building to prepare the students while Gianluca and Nilson covered us from the roof. Almost as soon as we stepped outside, the bullets started flying. Rob and I were lucky enough to eliminate most of the terrorists, and Gianluca did admirably as well, but one lucky jackass drew a bead on me and squeezed off a shot before Gianluca could perform .50 cal surgery. The bullet struck me in the right leg, just above the knee. It was absolutely unbearable, but I had to stay vigilant. There were people depending on me, and I wasn’t about to disappoint them. “God damn it!” I screamed, “Can you see any more of those fuckers?” “No,” Gianluca said, “but you guys had better move quickly. Their friends will probably come looking for them.” “Fine.” I replied, as I bandaged myself up. “Let’s go.”
The terrorists were dumb in most respects, but they were apparently smart enough to lock down most of the subway stations. We only had one shot to get back to Queens; through Union Square. Gianluca and Nilson had secured the area from the roofs, so we all met up in a recently abandoned store to try and come up with a plan. After being shot in the leg, I wasn’t too keen on taking another hit. Union Square was a big problem. It wasn’t locked down because the terrorists had a habit of using the trains to move men and supplies. “Crap.” Rob said. “There’s a bunch of them coming out of the station now, we’ll have to wait.” “Okay then.” I said. “Lets settle in, we’re just going to try again tomorrow.”
“Hey, wake up…” Gianluca whispered. “I think the terrorists are checking the block.” I opened my eyes with a start. “What? When are they gonna get here?” “In a few minutes.” I stopped for a moment and tried to remember if there was anything in the supply crates that could help us. “Here’s the plan,” I started, “I’m going to take one of the M4s and distract them while Rob and Nilson get the students into the station. Cover them up here, and then secure the station. I’ll meet you on the platform in twenty minutes.” “Frank are you crazy? You’ve just been shot in the leg, you can’t run from them.” I loaded the M4, and said with a grin “Who mentioned anything about running?”
About three minutes later, Rob along with Nilson and the students were huddled in the subway stairs while Gianluca entered and cleared the first level of the station. Four shots rang out and Rob heard the all-clear signal. The students were ushered into an ugly old maintenance train. It wasn’t fast, but it offered the most protection. “Ten minutes.” Gianluca mused, “If Frank doesn’t make it back by then, we leave.”
CHUCKCHUCKCHUCK! I cringed involuntarily as concrete bits flew up around me. It wasn’t going as planned. Suddenly, the terrorists stopped firing, and I heard a voice call out to me. “It’s alright, the terrorists are taken care of.” I grabbed a broken piece of glass and looked behind me. There was a tall man in a black suit holding a smoking MP5. The terrorists were all dead. I took a chance and stood up, only to fall down again. My leg was really bad. “Well Mr. Bortone, it seems like you had a bit of a situation there.” “Who are you, and how do you know my name?” I asked. “Come now Mr. Bortone, you should know that. Did you forget about the free agent list already? My name’s William Anderson.”. He smiled and helped me up. “I’ll help you to my chopper, the medic can take care of your leg.” “Sounds good to me,” I said, “I just have to get to Union Square in four minutes.”
“He has one minute left.” Rob looked at Gianluca skeptically. Gianluca thought for a moment. “I know that Rob. He’ll make it.” Nilson walked in to the drivers compartment. “What’s up Mike?” Rob asked. “Well,” Nilson began. “We’re pretty popular with some of the girls back there, you should go talk to your adoring fans.” Gianluca turned around in the driver’s seat. “Any sign of Frank?” Nilson looked at the floor “Not yet, hopefully he’ll be here soon.”
I stood on the platform banging on the train doors. “Hey guys, did you forget about me?” I heard scrambling inside the train. The door opened and I rushed in. I yelled “Lets go Gianluca! ” He pushed up the accelerator and we began to move. Gianluca looked at Rob and said“ I told you…” I sat in the back of the car and checked my leg. Nilson walked over. “Hey Frank, what happened out there?” I looked up. “Mike, you wouldn’t believe it.” He paused. “Try me.” After a little while, I sat back after having finished my story. “Frank, did he say anything about terrorist movements?” I reached into my vest and took out a piece of paper. “Here,” I began “are all of the known terrorist barracks and storage facilities.” I thought back to my conversation with Mr. Anderson. “He also mentioned that the terrorists would be following us and would stop at nothing to kill us.” Mike cut in “So that’s why you’re sitting at the back of the train with a loaded gun.” I thought for a moment. “Yes, that’s exactly why. Oh yeah, how are the girls doing?” Mike grinned and took out his own sheet of paper. He handed it to me and said “Here are the names and numbers of eight girls. They want to meet you after.” I was stunned. He added “Don’t disappoint them…” He walked back into the next car, and I looked out at the tracks behind us and listened to the serenade of the clacking train tracks.
“Hey…” I looked towards the door and the rather attractive girl that had just walked through it. “…you‘re Frank right?” I sat up straight and said “So they tell me.” She laughed and sat down next to me. I looked at the track behind us before continuing. “So, how are you doing?” “Fine thanks to you and your friends, I’m really glad that you were there to help us.” She thought for a moment “Frank? How did you and your friends start doing this.” I winced knowing that I couldn’t really tell her. “You’re gonna laugh but, If I told you I would have to kill you.” She had a look of horror on her face. “Oh my God…” She muttered. I said, “I really didn’t mean that…” “No, the track…” I looked out the window. “Get back to the other car!” I yelled. “Nilson! Rob! Get your asses over here and bring your guns!”
Rob and Nilson burst in. “What’s wrong?” Rob asked. “Well, aside from the fact that every time a girl likes me she has to go running away somewhere,” I paused. “there’s a train filled with terrorists about 700 feet behind us.” Nilson’s jaw dropped. I thought for a moment. “Rob, get the girls into the first car, we can’t fight the terrorists from here; so we’re going to have to pay them a visit.” After the girls were safely crammed into the first car, Nilson and I grabbed our M4s and waited by the door. “Rob, one more thing.” I said, “Release the last car from the conductor’s compartment. Stay with Gianluca and provide security. We’ll see you soon.” Rob nodded and said “Good luck.” He ran into the conductor’s station and hit the release. Our car slid away and would soon link with the terrorist train.
CLANG! The car attached itself to the front of the enemy train. “Ready Nilson?” He laughed. “Frank, I was born ready.” We stood up and opened fire. Luckily, the terrorist train consisted of one car and we didn’t have much trouble taking out the terrorist troops. We had one problem though, the large bomb in the center of the train car.
“You know Frank, I never had problems like this until I started hanging out with you guys.” I just stared blankly at the bomb while my brain tried to comprehend what had just happened. Nilson paced back and forth for a few minutes but eventually broke the silence. “Wait, Frank…” I looked up at him expectantly. “…what if we detonate the bomb above ground?” I thought for a second and realized that we could pull it off. It would be tough, but so were we.
Gianluca sat at the controls and scanned the comm. channels. Rob was busy pouring over a map of the subway lines in Queens. Suddenly, Gianluca snapped to attention. “Rob, I hear a broadcast… We’re not alone!” Rob grinned wildly and turned on the train’s PA system. “Attention, we have something that everyone might want to hear.” Gianluca handed Rob the headset, which was then held up to the PA’s microphone. “…cannot just sit around idly…need…put up a resistance…fight the good fight…” Then, just as soon as Gianluca found it, the signal was lost and there was only silence. Gianluca and Rob sat back down and stared at each other. “Rob, we need to find them.”
“Nilson, watch your end!” CLANG! The bomb slammed into the ground and we winced, expecting to be no more than shit stains on the ground in a second or two. It never happened. We both breathed a sigh of relief and continued up the emergency stairs. The bomb was surprisingly light, but we weren’t about to risk having it blow up in our faces because we stopped being careful. “Hey Frank, there’s light up ahead. We’re almost there.” I said a quick, silent prayer. “Thank God Mike, I can’t do this much longer.” At just that moment, I felt a cool breeze hit my face. We put the bomb down, and stepped out into…chaos.
“Frank, what the fuck happened here!” I was appalled. “I don’t know Mike, I just don’t know…” We saw the familiar facades of 63rd drive, but bombed out and on fire. We stood on the subway grate we had just come up through and tried to stop ourselves from losing it completely. Middle Village had become a war zone and there was, seemingly, nothing left. We heard an engine through the crackling sound of the fires and prepared to make a final stand.
A truck pulled up and a thickly accented Russian voice called out. “Hello my friends!” Nilson was confused, but I knew who our mystery driver was. “I’m glad you came Aleksander!” Nilson looked at me quizzically. I laughed and said “I’ll explain later.”
Bullets flew past the train. “Rob, I would appreciate some help here!” The train was running at full speed over the elevated rail line, but the terrorist forces were still taking potshots at it, with decent accuracy. Rob backed away from the window and turned to Gianluca “Have a spare clip?” Gianluca checked the duffel bag. “Nope, we’re out completely.” The train pulled to a stop in the station. Gianluca had gotten the train on the “M” line and they had just pulled up to the final stop by Christ the King High School. Gianluca took a quick look out the window and quickly sat on the floor. Rob didn’t even have to ask, he knew that the platform was chock full of terrorists, and they had no ammo. He looked at Gianluca. “We better hope Frank and Nilson made it back…”
We sat in the back of the truck with some Spetsnaz who were going to help us out. It smelled like a combination of vodka and gunpowder, but we didn’t care. Nilson and I sat complacently, loading up on ammo and wearing some top of the line Russian armor. Aleksander looked back at us. “Mr. Bortone, we have received reports that your friends are in trouble; we’re on our way now. There is heavy resistance, so be ready.” Nilson looked at me. “Well Frank, out of the frying pan, into the fire…” I looked at him. “That’s so old Mike…”
Gianluca sat next to Rob in the cab while the students sat in the considerably safer passenger section. The train was secure, they couldn’t get in, but everyone was still tense. Suddenly, a single shot rang out; loud and true. They knew it was familiar but they had to be sure…
CRACK! “Tango down, six more to the left.” I cradled the now familiar rifle in my arms and lined up another shot. Unexpectedly, the headset I had forgotten about crackled to life. “Frank, is that you taking those shots?” It was Gianluca, and he sounded pretty bad. I took another shot which Nilson confirmed as a kill. “Who else would it be?” Aleksander crawled up next to us on the roof. “Mr. Bortone, my units will clear the last few enemies. We can make our approach.”
As I walked up to the station, the first thing I noticed was that the train looked like shit. I was surprised it held together for so long. With a whooshing noise, the doors opened, and everyone stepped out, completely unharmed. Aleksander’s forces had cleared the threats from Middle Village, and the escort mission was at its end. Our main mission however, was far from complete.
Surrounded
It had been two days since the completion of the escort mission, and in that time, our teams had thirty-four confirmed kills. The terrorists knew we were there and that we were a major threat. They wanted us dead, no matter what the cost. Aleksander pulled a few strings and managed to secure some extra hardware. We now had two more Barrett rifles, extra armor and most impressively, a new means of transportation. It wasn’t fast or pretty, but it was tough as hell. A modified Chenowth Fast-Attack Vehicle, it had enough armor plating to stop all but the latest anti armor rounds. I hated to think how much it cost, but I wasn’t complaining in the least.
Gianluca walked around the FAV in silent admiration. He looked at us and said “I’m definitely driving.” He did, and very well, too. In about twenty minutes, we were back in Manhattan, and intent on finishing what we started. In five minutes, we were engaged in what would prove to be the most difficult battle in our military career. Luckily, we weren’t alone.
As we pulled up to what had become our designated HQ, we saw the government agent who had first spoken to us. We walked up to him to find out why he was there. He saluted briefly, and then began to speak. “Gentlemen, we have become aware of the terrorist who is controlling the flow of men and supplies into Manhattan. You will be working alongside the other free agents for the remainder of this war. Here are their dossiers. Good luck.”
We stood there for a moment and examined the dossiers given to us. Most of the other free agents, including Mr. Anderson were ex-special forces, and yet our team was given seniority. Rob closed the folder he was examining, stared at the ground for a second and spoke. “Well, let’s get moving, we’re gonna need to make some plans.”
We entered our storehouse and stopped immediately, amazed at what we saw. The military had apparently decided to do a little bit of remodeling. What was formerly an old warehouse was now a shining symbol of American firepower. Wall to wall, the building was packed with every weapon and vehicle imaginable, complete with all the necessary ammunition and fuel. As we walked towards the rear of the warehouse, no one spoke. We couldn’t believe what we were seeing, there were M1-A1 tanks sitting proudly, recently adorned with an amazing urban camouflage. I approached one of them cautiously, not sure if what I was seeing was real, and noticed a note placed on the glacis plate. I opened it and read it aloud: “To the Saviors of this city, the United States government has authorized the use of extreme firepower and tactics in the effort to secure Manhattan island. A chopper will reach your compound shortly. It will be carrying two tank crews and the other free agents, who will serve as your partners from this point on. ” I was about to continue when we heard a loud noise coming from outside the compound. Nilson looked towards the heavy steel door with a look of fear. “That can’t be good…”
We rushed into the back room and looked at the security cameras. We were surrounded by the largest terrorist force we had seen yet, and they were very well armed. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the agent who was overseeing our progress. “We are surrounded…” I paused to gather my thoughts. “…What’s the ETA on the tank crews?” He spoke into a radio for a moment and then sighed. “I’m sorry, it’ll take at least five minutes, and by the looks of it, you only have two left.” Gianluca grinned, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nilson climbed on to of the tank. “This time, I’ll drive.”
The Abrams roared to life and proceeded towards the steel blast door. It opened slowly, and a number of the terrorists managed to get in before the tank could open fire. Gianluca mowed them down with frightening ease while Rob grabbed a shotgun and crouched behind a supply crate. I ran for an M-60 and headed towards the blast door, being careful not to get too close to the scalding exhaust from the M1’s turbine engine. We had been doing well so far, but I couldn’t help wondering how soon it would be before our luck ran out. Whether it was a miracle or brute strength, we had managed to hold out for four minutes, and I could hear chopper blades in the distance. “Frank, look out!” Rob tried to warn me but he was just a little too late. A terrorist had snuck up to me from my right and was about to take me out of commission, I was pinned, and weaponless. I honestly thought my time had come, but help had a knack for arriving right when we needed it the most. I heard a number of MP5s fire off all at once, and the terrorist that stood above me fell silently to the ground. I stood, shakily but unharmed and surveyed the scene. Once again, all the terrorists lay dead, thanks to my fellow free agents. I laughed quietly to myself. “Well Mr. Anderson, you always seem to know exactly when to show up.” He grinned. “Come now Frank, it’s my job. I’d like to introduce you to the rest of the free agents, we are fully at your disposal. The tank crews will relieve your friend and restock. We have much to do. Tomorrow is a big day for us.”
Requiem
It was settled. Tomorrow morning, we would head out with the hope of putting an end to this war once and for all. We climbed into a heavily armored truck. It looked civilian, but it was not ordinary in any other way. We strapped into our seats and prepared for our thirty minute ride to the terrorist compound.
“Can you believe it Frank?” I looked at Gianluca. “Huh?” “Well, you know. This. What we’ve been doing.” “I know what you mean.” I looked around at the rest of my friends. Rob was asleep, trying to rest up for the next firefight. Mike was wide awake, but his mind was somewhere far away. My attention returned to Gianluca. “Listen Frank, we’ve been friends for a long time so whatever happens, it was a pleasure working with you like this.” “Same here man…” Nilson snapped back to reality. “Yeah. This has been pretty amazing for me.” Rob opened his eyes. “Hell, four weeks ago I didn’t even know how to use a rifle.” Aleksander called back to us from the cab, “Two minutes comrades! Be prepared for heavy resistance!” I looked at everyone. “Here’s the plan: Gianluca and I will fight our way through building B and get to the roof. We’ll provide over-watch while the two of you proceed to building C and power down the complex. Once the go-code is given, rendezvous with free agent teams three and four in the lobby of building A. After that, we only have one more target, the terrorist commander, located on the penthouse level of building A.” The truck screeched to a halt. I got up and went to open the rear hatch. “Let’s get it done; no mistakes.” I threw the hatch open, and rushed out into the compound’s courtyard.
As discussed, Gianluca and I ran to the left and headed to building B while Rob and Mike ran to the right, heading for building C. At the same time, Anderson and his colleagues landed their choppers on the tops of their respective target buildings.
“Frank! Two to the left of us!” I spun around and fired off several rounds. “They’re down, is your side clean?” “Yeah!” We were a few feet away from the entry point when we got a transmission from Rob saying Mike and him were in position. I readied the door charge and shouted into the mouthpiece, “Breach in 10…9…8…” Gianluca shouted into his own mouthpiece, “Anderson reports successful infil. Of the target buildings. Teams two through four are go for stage two.”…3…2…1…” BANG! “Doors are down! Go go go!” We entered the building in a blaze of glory. The terrorist troops inside the building were taken by surprise, and we eliminated them with minimal effort. Gianluca and I ran straight for the service elevator and began the fifteen story ascent to the roof. “Frank…” Rob began to give a sit-rep. “Mike and I are halfway through our building. Anderson’s team reports ninety-five percent of their building cleared. Team four is running into trouble, resistance is especially heavy and they only entered the lobby a few minutes ago.” “Copy that Rob, Gianluca and I are on our way to the roof as we speak. Expect precision fire in two minutes and counting.”
The elevator doors opened and we stepped onto the roof. It was clear, so Gianluca guarded the elevator while I set myself up. “Teams two through four, precision fire is ready. You call them out, I’ll take them down.”
“Team one this is team three, seven targets on the roof of building A. ” “Copy team three.” Once again I lined up the shots and fired. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! “Team three this is team one, seven shots fired. Can you confirm the hits?” “Roger team one, all targets neutralized. Well done.” I used the lull in the battle to reload and shift positions. After I reached a satisfactory perch, I radioed in. “Team one reporting in, fire is up. Repeat, fire is up. Get me some targets.” “Team one, this is team four. Sorry for the delay. One marksman on the top of building D. We don’t have a clear shot, do you?” “I see him…” CRACK! “Team one here, no confirmation needed. He dropped like a rock.” “Copy team one. This is Anderson. All target buildings cleared. At go-code, my team and team two will make a run for building A. Team four will monitor progress. Do you copy?” “I copy team three. ” I checked with Gianluca. “Spotter’s scope is clear. Give the code.” “This is team one. Courtyard is clear. Go-code Alpha. Move in now.”
No one fired on Anderson’s or Rob’s teams, so the breach was quick and clean. “Teams two and three, courtyard is still empty. We’re going to try and eliminate some in building targets.” “Copy team one, watch for friendlies. Team two is moving through the fifth floor, my team is on the sixth. Fire fourth floor and lower.” Gianluca tapped me on the shoulder. “This is weird Frank, there are no targets on this side of building A. Have the others seen anything?” “No. I’ll radio in.” “Team two, hold on fifth floor and keep an eye out for pockets of resistance moving through the corridors.” “Copy Frank, team two is holding, weapons hot.” I relayed what Rob said to Gianluca and called in to team three. “Anderson do you copy? Anderson? Please respond…” Nothing. “Shit. Team two, proceed to sixth floor with caution. Anderson’s team is MIA.” “Copy team one, moving to sixth floor.”
About four minutes later, Rob and Mike called in. “Frank, a five man patrol has been eliminated. No resistance left, so it’s a straight shot up to the penthouse.” “Copy Rob. Anderson and his men?” “They’ve been incapacitated. We’ve stabilized them and team four is on their way to evac them. I’m switching my radio to constant so you can monitor our status.” “Roger team two, be careful in there.”
Gianluca and I waited impatiently on the roof as we listened to Rob’s radio. After a minute or two of walking, we heard a door breach and someone yelling in Arabic. “Team two, status!” “We’re fine here team one. High value target has been captured and can be brought in for questioning.” I sat back on the roof and thought for a moment. We had just completed our mission. There were only a few legal matters left to settle and that was the government’s problem, not ours. “Frank, we did it…” Gianluca sat there with the same strange look on his face that I had on mine. “Yeah, we actually did it…” In a little while, we heard the approach of our evac choppers, and prepared to go home. Well, a new home.
Endgame
Four hundred and twenty-nine kills confirmed. One hundred percent mission completion, including the total removal of terrorist forces from Manhattan and Queens. Slowly, people began returning from the out-of-state shelters they had gone to and the rebuilding started slowly, but things would eventually return to normal. We received commendations from both the American and Russian governments, and were given the opportunity to return to our old lives. Rob decided to do just that; he turned in his weapons and licenses, and was reunited with his family. Gianluca, Mike and I decided to stay with the team. We saw our families to let them know we were safe, and then headed back out to the city. As a token of appreciation, we were allowed to keep the warehouse and weapons. We live there now, waiting for our country to call on us when the time comes. In the meanwhile, we stand guard over our beloved city; and although you may not see us, rest assured, we see you.
