Under the calming light of the moon, nothing more than a routine patrol and response to a distressed call was supposed to happen. Staff Sergeant Mike Randall, totaling just six months on the force, just experienced enough to lead his own fireteam, made it a habit to check up on his men every two-hundred steps. His job was limited to securing the target area—the army had uncovered a target—they needed someone to strike it. Mike was a young, robust man and fearless Ranger. He wouldn’t fly the same flag for a long time, but now he worked alongside men that stood beside him no matter what happened.
Beside him stood his new fireteam: Chieftain Leccamaradel Emma Araish, Lieutenant Maru McCann, Lieutenant Mark Bishiop, Corporal Anthony Richard, and Agent Jorge Levin. They were all trained and ready. That’s what worried the Staff-Sergeant, time and time again did this world prove that no matter how much they prepared, reality would wait to take someone from him.
Here, just outside the town of Juniper, his mission was simple: investigate a disturbance believed to be caused by Yondel terrorist cells. Both Richard and Lecca stood against the idea of deploying to a backwater town, they argued it was an issue that local law enforcement should take care of, but their voices were squashed when Rear Admiral O’Donnell had commandeered his unit. The gentle wind that flew in from the coast brushed over his exposed skin as he proceeded forwards at the head of the formation.
It would’ve been a semi-peaceful evening, were it not for the stench of blood that coated the area he decided to check out. The only thing that he had left of his original gear was his rifle, helmet, goggles, pistol, holster, and hydration pack. Everything, even to the clothes on his back, was either provided by the OMFS or were bought by Mike himself on the few trips he took into town. His weapon remained raised as he approached the wooden entrance to a small shed sitting in the middle of a field. Mike instantly took note of the glaring holes that were punctured in the doorway, no doubt four shotgun blasts.
“Light.” Mike ordered making Richard pull out a flashlight and turning it on towards the doorway.
With the singular light shining upon the room inside, Mike stepped to the side alongside Agent Levin. Both peered in through the doorway, their weapons trained on the seemingly empty interior. His foot shifted on the ground; his eyes narrowed through the single large hole that was caused by the four shotgun shells that had been fired at an unknown time. His hands gripped his rifle tight. With tightened muscles he hesitated to lower his rifle, but eventually he was no longer looking through the magnified sight sitting atop his weapon.
“Boss?” Lieutenant Bishop, a Naval Ground Operator Sailor, said curtly.
“Open the door.” Mike nonchalantly ordered.
Stepping through the door activating his rifle, he shined the bright light upon the small shed’s interior. Hidden behind the goggles over his eyes, and his expression concealed by the half-face mask over his face, Mike froze where he stood. In a moment of hesitation, he reached for his first-aid kit sitting on his battle belt. Then he reluctantly lowered his hand and returned it to his rifle.
There, resting against the wall was a body that was torn to shreds. Only the hand, legs, head, and arms were intact. Blood had been splattered all over the inside of the shed; it had come from a single location, the open chest of the individual who was still breathing, which surprised the Staff Sergeant. With the insides of the chest and abdominal region being completely exposed, and a horrid stench emerging from a nearby pack of maggots tearing apart the lose parts of skin and body matter, Mike determined that the man had survived someone ruthlessly tearing his chest open with a bladed weapon. With the amount of blood, the man had lost, and the damage to his body, the staff sergeant was wholly confused on who the poor bastard wasn’t dead.
Who was he? That was the question that persisted in Mike’s mind as he knelt beside the man. Nerveless, the mission they were assigned was something akin to search and destroy, but now it seemed it was an unofficial investigation due to the bodies outside of the building and the destroyed truck they had found a half-kilometer from the target building. Waving his hand, both Agent Levin and Princess Leccamaradel stepped forward. “What’s happening?” He asked as he spotted a gentle purple hue emerging from the man’s organs.
“Magic.” Levin responded looking over his shoulder.
“Correct. The man is keeping himself alive with a small amount of magic.” Lecca added.
Mike looked at the blood puddle below his boots. This sight reminded him of the body he saw in Peshawar and his stomach churned to the nightmarish image. “So, he’s keeping his blood circulating and filling any holes in his organs.” He deuced taken aback by the idea that the invisible, science defying power could go this far.
Beside him, Lecca mouthed a silent prayer, the man blinked several times as his eyes gentle clamped shut and his organs slowly stopped shifting. He was dead. Within an instant, flies and maggots raced into the body, they had found their new source of food. Having seen enough, Mike rose from his spot and walked outside of the shed with the princess and agent following in tow.
“So, what now, boss?” Lieutenant Bishop asked taking his eyes away from the star-filled sky.
“Work with what we have. Find anyone that might be alive and see if we can’t take them in for questioning.” Mike said. “We need to find out who got here before us, and we need to understand why the order was given in the first place.”
“This is a shit-show.” Richard whispered.
Doubling back away from the now deceased man, the squadron exited the building and began to investigate the nearby bodies. They spanned out into a ten-meter spread line. It was a simple way of finding the evidence they needed, but if time was wasted on finding useless clues, they would lose whoever was responsible for the raid.
Coming across a body dressed in olive-drab fatigues, Mike called his squadron to a halt before kneeling down. Richard stepped up next to him with a grim look on his face as he looked at the bloodied, mud-covered body. “Should you even be walking, Sarge?” He calmly asked. His mind drifting to the incident on the frontier no less than two weeks ago.
“Who knows. I was cleared.” Mike explained as he reached out his gloved hand and grabbed a bloodied, bent knife laying on the ground. “Seems this guy was stabbed to death. Wounds are all over his abdomen and trail up to his neck.” The staff sergeant commented dropping the knife back on the ground.”
“So, we’re dealing with people that rather carve us up than shoot us like normal people.” Richard sighed.
“Remember, different world.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want to get caught up in something that we have no business in.” The corporal spouted sardonically. “The last mission should be our focus. We need to punish those who attacked the capital, and we were getting close to discovering who was responsible.”
“The mission was handed off to the Army. It’s no longer a simple issue of terrorism as we’re talking about an entire nation conducting a first strike maneuver, no less assassination attempts on the Federation’s leaders.”
Richard breathed lightly as he looked between the bodies around the area. He grasped his rifle and kept it steady as he walked away from Mike poised to find some way to keep his mind occupied in these uncertain times. Stepping up from the corpse, Mike wandered near Jorge Levin. He was currently scanning the area, looking for possible hostiles. The OMFS agent noticed the staff sergeant and directed him to a nearby, demolished car.
“Something large enough to take out a truck hit this car. Looks like it hit the front and tore through. We only found two bodies.” The agent explained in a heavy Slavic-sounding accent.
“Do we know who they were?” Mike asked.
“No. Their clothes were burned off and anything that might help us identify their bodies have been turned to mere ashes.” Jorge explained with an apathetic look scouring his face. His eyes traced over the charred bodies. Just based of the skeletal structure, the agent could easily ascertain that the occupants were a single male and single female. “They could be a pair of lovers, or in the worst case, a patrol that was ambushed and torched.”
Mike didn’t like how this sounded. “If there were civilians caught in the crossfire, why haven’t local law enforcement nor their families looked into their disappearances?” he wanted to know the reason for them being deployed.
“Both groups put up a solid fight. They must’ve had weapons that were capable of such damage. It’s either that or magic.”
Standing under the moonlight it was clear that this place was nothing more than a mass graveyard. Bullet casings, bodies, dried blood, and magic residue was spread all over the property. As far as the young staff sergeant could go by, this was no different than the many sights he had seen throughout his time in the army. And here he was still, looking death in the eye, standing beside it, unwavering.
“Two parties have formed.” Jorge mentioned as he ran a black, gloved hand over the burnt vehicle, “Loyalists to the Federation, and nationalists. The attacks have proven to bring out a fiery response from the people, and most are calling for blood. For how they want to achieve such horror is mixed, but the same remains and I doubt the president can delay a military response any longer.”
“Magic, mud, and blood.” Mike whispered.
“Staff Sergeant!”
To the sudden call of his name, Mike turned towards Richard who called out to him. The corporal walked swiftly with a slim object in his hands, and upon his superior inquiring him on why he had suddenly interrupted, the young man held up a slim patch. “I don’t recognize this unit.” He said displaying the insignia on the patch made of three colors, gold, red, and blue, and single torch laid in the center of the patch with the colors representing the different colors of fire held within.
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“Some sort of infantry unit?” The staff sergeant inquired turning to Jorge.
“Can’t say. Which body did you take it from?”
Richard turned around and pointed towards a distant tree that was well separated from the battlegrounds on the fields and around the small wooden structure. “Just over there. The guy was wearing some unfamiliar gear. He doesn’t look like the soldiers, nor the guys inside the shed.” He explained trying to paint the difference of the body he found. “Heavy weapons and gear. Also, body armor, if you can believe that.”
“Is any of it salvageable?”
“No. Shot to hell.”
Standing up from the ground Mike surveyed the surrounding area. Hs gently exhaled and watched his breath disappear into the frozen air as he stepped to the side. The two-inch snow underneath his boots crunched as he began his walk to the tree his men had gathered around. Over the distant horizon, the sun began to emerge creating a haze of blue and orange colors amongst the dark, black sky. Though the so called “winter months” had long passed, the cold wave had just arrived within the Federation, and now the staff sergeant was missing the semi-warm spring he had just two weeks back.
His men were gathered around the tree trying to warm themselves as they kept watch of the surrounding approach. By luck they wouldn’t be in a hot zone, but this was something different that required the upmost patience of all present. The objective the army called upon them to achieve was long failed even before they arrive, and that much worried Mike as he arrived making his troopers gather around him in a semi-professional manner.
Looking amongst each trooper before him, Mike could only think back to the raging storms he had once lived through. He was born in New York, so he was no stranger to freezing weather, considering he lived up-state it was second nature to him. Those on the Frontier wouldn’t have immediate access to food, water, shelter, or heat. He could only imagine how many would die from just the freezing cold weather.
“Two-one. Randall. Captain wants you back as soon as possible. Students from the 1st have shown up.” Malkovich suddenly cut over the radio. Only Lecca was taken aback by the voice, but she was less frightened than before when she met the Rangers.
Pressing the radio on his chest Mike sighed, “Copy. RTB.”
“Guess we’re on the move back?” Bishop asked pointing the barrel of his rifle high into the sky.
“The situation is fucked, so yeah.” Mike said as he turned on his boots. “Form up around me! Three-meter spread.”
Forming a semi-circle formation, Mike walked beside his troopers silently down the fields and towards a small road where their insertion vehicles were waiting to be collected. The grass ahead, and the patches they walked through were more than enough to mask their movements. The only ones that ever saw them coming was the spaced-out wildlife that made room for them to navigate the thick brush, and only the deer in the distance would be so daring to grow close to them.
Scanning over the horizon Mike kept watch of the deer that grew close to him. He was at the center of the formation, so his men also noticed how close they were. Each one snorted and stamped their feet. Their beady eyes stared at the covered and uncovered eyes of the riflemen.
“Fuckers.” Richard cursed as he entered a staring contest with one of the bucks.
“Just ignore it. The vehicles will scare them away.” Lieutenant McCann said as he was the first one to climb onto one of the three trucks on the road.
“Load up gentlemen! We need to get back to camp in ten!” The convoy leader shouted from the front vehicle.
“After you.” Richard chuckled as he stood to the side holding onto the handlebar.
“C’mon get on!” Mike ordered. “We got a timetable to stick to! Be efficient gentlemen!”
All climbing aboard the trucks, Mike was at the end of the truck bed. To his left was Bishop and sitting across from him was Richard and McCann. As the trucks took off, Mike turned off his AR and let the dark environment surround him. All he could see was the men he was with only lit by the single light on the roll cage above them.
“I’ve heard a lot about you guys.” McCann said over the roar of the engine. “Though not much is known on the grape vine, it seems that the higher-ups across all branches are interested you lot. There’s even talks about taking you away from the OMFS.”
“Really? Why are they so into us? I’m sure there is nothing that would paint a target on our backs.” Ramirez responded surprised by the confession McCann made.
“For starters, it’s common knowledge that you are all from the kingdom. That much makes you all an intelligence goldmine, yet the OMFS has failed to pull anything we can learn against our next enemy. Second, the gear you have is making all of the R&D guys wet themselves. Finally, some people say that they wish to form a unit based on your current situation, foreign officers and enlisted men working under the Federation’s orders.”
Mike hummed along to the conversation as it continued. His mind drifted away to the convoy he was currently a part of. He had spent more than enough time in small and large convoys than most drivers could ever imagine. When he was just a mere boot, he was often selected to drive generals and other high-ranking officers to important events and other day-to-day places for business. This, however, was different. An unknown feeling and itchiness crept up his left arm.
Looking around the pitch-black world around the three-vehicle convoy, Mike felt the cool air pressing against his skin and chills running up the back of his neck. He placed his free hand on the roll cage and looked around for a potential threat. Though contact with an enemy would be limited, it wouldn’t be impossible. Considering that the site they were ordered to strike had recently been through an extensive firefight, he doubted that the enemy wouldn’t send any reinforcements or clean up units. Everything about the mission put him on edge, and the growing conflict between the kingdom and Federation was about to boil over. For now, the immediate area was clear and there was little to see that would put him on alert.
Mike grit his teeth as a frustrated look was hidden by his helmet and facemask.
“Pulling through the gate now!” The driver shouted.
Finally separating himself from the endless dark, Mike was thankful for the artificial lights. Though the makeshift camp was relatively empty, a few soldiers from the Border Guard worked around the clock moving supplies to the army troops along the border bolstering their forces from the growing threat of demons and kingdom’s soldiers.
“Alright, get out!” The driver said forcing the grumbling soldiers and sailors out of his truck.
Landing his boots firmly on the snow-covered ground, Mike noticed Leccamaradel walking up to him with a worried expression on her face. “Something the matter?” He asked only to gain a small shrug from the princess. “We’ll talk about it later.”
With his men moving to the command tent where Captain Thompson was station, Mike grumbled as he witnessed several soldiers being pulled by Navy Corpsmen and Medics towards the only tent that was active with surgeons on standby. They had recently engaged a pack of demons on the borderline to the Frontier and had sustained mass casualties.
“There’s been an uptick in Demon sightings within the Frontier. How come we never came across any when we crossed?” Mike inquired as Lecca kept pace with him.
“Since humanity has grown in mass, the only locations you will ever find Demons and other monsters are either in their scattered nests or the unknown regions well beyond the Federation.” Lecca stated walking beside the staff sergeant while cradling her rifle in both of her arms.
“Damn. I don’t know if we should be glad that we missed all the action.”
“Either way, the only reason why men would be hurt against such monsters is primarily due to extermination missions and the more common method of alerting and angering a pack.”
“Right.”
Holding the entrance to the command tent open, Mike’s team quickly escaped into the warm interior. Upon entering the tent, the group noticed all the communication devices and operators strung about at different tables. Captain Thompson was located right next to the leader of this camp, Colonel Forester. They overwatched and commanded an ongoing recon mission happening within the Frontier.
“Raven One-One, Gold Actual.”
“Go for actual.”
“Have confirmed sighting on Kingdom troops moving throughout the Frontier.”
“All Raven units be advised, live fire on Yondel forces is strictly prohibited. Only engage in self-defense.”
“No guarantee that they won’t share the same courtesy, sir.”
“Then don’t get seen, out.”
Thompson hummed as the colonel finished divulging his orders. He turned his head and noticed the group waiting for him, but before he did that, the captain stepped over to a nearby table with a map strung on top and observed the pieces marked before pulling one off and placing it near a large forest.
“Get that fireteam there, lieutenant.” He ordered.
“Sir.” The young man responded.
Over the past year Thompson had matured and wizened up about many things in this world. Ever since he was able to pull the remainder of his squadron out of the shit show of Peshawar, he had learned many things about his team, and the people he could trust. Amongst the commissioned officers within the Federation’s military and the intelligence officers of the OMFS, he had gained a somewhat unique reputation due to his position as a foreign operative under Federation command. He had been the only field captain within the intelligence agency to actively deploy to field operations against a tangible threat. So, his experience in the real-world conflict put his opinions, that he rarely provided, in great value.
“What’s the sitrep?”
“Two groups, one army, one unknown engaged on the property well before we got there. Once we arrived, we found the aftermath. Lots of bodies.” Lieutenant Bishop responded.
Thompson raised an eyebrow as Colonel Forester turned around overhearing the conversation, “We know the ID of these players?”
“Negative. Unknown patch, unknown unit. They’re Federation based of the gear they had.” Agent Levin answered procuring the patch and handing it to the captain.
The captain looked over the patch and its irregular design. He too couldn’t recognize the unit, so he passed it on to the colonel who grew confused as he held the patch in his calloused hands, “What do you mean unknown?” He asked trying to understand the situation.
“Are they some new SMU?” Thompson inquired recalling his knowledge on the Ravens which were currently deployed.
“Can’t say. Gear and weapons are unlike any we’ve ever seen before, but they share a strong resemblance to the gear the Federation is able to produce for their SMUs.” Mike cut in sharing what he observed alongside Agent Levin in the field.
“What of the troopers that were sent before you?” The colonel asked.
“It was the OMFS Gold team that was on the ground.” The lieutenant Thompson had directed earlier said cutting into the conversation.
“What?” Forester said completely blindsided by the new information. He let out a sigh as he walked over to the map on the nearby table. He scanned it with his hazel eyes and used his hand to create a gentle red glow over the forested area presented. “So, an OMFS—Joint Task Force was taken down alongside hostile forces and an unknown individual? What the fuck?”
His lack of professionalism was understandable for the current situation. Mike can attest the frustration that the mission he was deployed on provided.
“Our intelligence pointed towards a possible threat from Yondel. Multiple suspicious cargo ships were enroute from the East. Are you telling me that there is a third party at play?” Colonel Forester asked with the realization that the threat was well beyond anyone present in the room.
“Did we intercept a message?” Thompson pressed.
“OMFS was tasked with taking in known persons of interest. NIA is currently working on giving a detailed report about a possible tier one threat of Federation soil.”
The colonel stepped away from the table as he marked several places on the map with a red hue from his hand. A look of panic was plastered on his face as he moved to the communications specialist not far away.
“Pep, get me a line to the OMFS director, we need to wake up Blue Team to respond to a Tier One threat.” He ordered almost shouting at the poor man at the table.
“Yessir!” The young specialist responded as he tuned to the Director’s frequency.
Mike stood still as the two men began to get to work warning the proper channels. He only turned his head when he noticed Lecca stepping up beside him and taking his dirtied, gloved hand.
“What’s going on?” She asked not knowing if the staff sergeant would have a proper answer.
Squeezing her hand tightly, Mike found it hard to find the right words to the question as a familiar feeling bubled in his chest.
“Whatever it is, we’ll all put a stop to it.”
Publicly Available Information: Operation Silver Shield:
With intelligence pointing to a possible terrorist attack on Federation soil, the Office of Military and Federal Security has created a hasty response made up of their internal security group, Blue Team, and Army Special Reconnaissance Paratroopers to respond to the threat.
Many believe this to be the work of a splinter cell that has been recently uncovered operating in both the Federation of Zivaland and the Kingdom of Yondel.